#i hated all my ‘friends’ in game and then my mans KILLED them and i was like ☹️ like hello? what is with the aggression??

[t4tdanvis]

dante, travis, vylad, and aphmau qpr makes zero sense outside of my rewrite and that is a tragedy

[hopelessromantic-ghost]

that’s my mans 🥰💖

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

[two-white-butterflies]

three great men and death | daemon targaryen

Description: You were the object of his ire - the foreigner who stole his position as hand. Hate and love are parallel lines. Daemon finds himself running to you after his failed marriages and exiles.

Pairing: the hand! reader/daemon targaryen

Word Count: 3k+ did not bother to check after it passed 3k

A/N: Enemies to lovers. Reader is crazier than Daemon.

There have been stories about his brother's new hand. A great beauty that came from Lys and managed to earn the King's trust. You tell everyone that your purpose as Hand is for the betterment of Westeros, but Daemon does not believe that - how could a foreigner want good for a land she did not come from?

"Power is a curious thing, my lord. Are you fond of riddles?" you inquired, walking past the roses and peonies. "Why? Am I about to hear one?" he asked. His eyes narrowed slightly.

He has slithered his way into your company, seeking to understand you better. He needed to know your purpose; and the best way to undermine the enemy was to pretend to be their ally.

"Three great men sit in a room, a king, a priest and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword. Each great man bids the sellsword kill the other two. Who dies?" you inquired, carefully watching him from your periphery.

You did not succeed by being stupid and trusting. You knew what kind of game he was playing at and it would be best to quench this little rebellion of his before it began. "Depends on the sellsword." he surmises, staring at your face and awaiting a reaction.

"Does it? He's not the crown, no gold, no favor with the gods." you continued toying with him. "He has a sword, the power of life and death." Daemon argued, hidden meaning in his tone.

He's telling you that he wields the sword.

"But if it is the swordsman who rules, why do we pretend that kings hold all the power?" the sides of your lips turned upwards. His eyes twinkle slightly, but it loses its glow the moment he opens his mouth.

"I have decided that I do not enjoy your riddles, lady hand." Daemon turned to look at you, escorting you deeper into the garden.

"What I next say is not a riddle." you breathed, cleverly waiting until his eyebrows merge together. "What is it?" he humored.

The facade breaks, your smile dissapears as quickly as it came.

"There have been rumors of you and the Princess. I understand that you aim to slander the Crown's good name - mayhaps even take Rhaenyra to wife as you've already taken her maidenhead." you say.

"- but I want you to understand that the plan is stupid, and that King Viserys plans to throw you back into Lady Royce's arms." you informed, pretending that you were truly concerned about his wellbeing. Daemon's breath stills.

There was no one around you in the gardens. Not a single soul that was able to hear about the ordeal. "Lady hand." he began, his hands circling around your neck, threatening to choke the life out of you.

"I know the truth, that you did take Rhaenyra's maidenhead. But I will not tell your brother if you agree to my proposal." you held his hand, attempting to pry it away from your neck, but his grip tightens.

"Speak." he commanded, his fiery purple eyes glaring daggers upon your own.

"What I offer is a transactional relationship. I keep my silence, and defend you against any accusation, but you must be on my side." you insisted, that twinkle returns in his eyes. Gods, he was unpredictable.

"Against who?" he interrogated.

"Ser Otto. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. He wishes to rid me of this post. He wishes to make his grandson heir. I am the only one standing between the family that you love, and a war." you breathed.

He frees you from his grasp. A strange smile on his face.

"You prove yourself useful, lady hand." he complimented, before abandoning you in front of the Weirwood Tree.

He lays cooly on his bed, watching as you entered his chambers with a hood hiding your face. "I have brought the evidence that you begged for." you informed, throwing a compilation of letters on his bed. "I did not beg for anything, lady hand." he rolled his eyes.

But he still reads the letters that you've presented him.

"These are compilations of Ser Otto's letters to his brother. Clear proof of his plans to supplant your niece." you explained in simpler terms, maintaining the distance between you, in case he think of something else.

You've been allies for half a year now. You've grown to understand that Daemon was the type of man who allowed his emotions to rule over rational thought. His lack of control gave you the upper hand.

"He wants Aegon as King, and by extension, he wants to be King." you continued, seeing his eyebrows merge together in intrigue. "What should we do? Should we tell Viserys?" he asked.

Daemon already had a plan of action in mind - to kill Ser Otto. But that wasn't the smartest course of action. Your plan was inevitably going to end up better than his.

"Ser Otto is the Queen's father. Viserys has always allowed mercy to persevere throughout his rule. Ser Otto will not be punished. He'll be exiled and in a few years, he will be back for revenge. I say that we keep the evidence and wait for the perfect time to use it against him." you strongly advised.

Daemon smiles at you - a real smile, this time.

He pats the empty side on his bed.

You sigh, but you sit beside him anyways.

"I wish to marry Princess Rhaenyra. I need you to think of a plan that will use this to get what I want." he tells you, pointing at the letters.

A loud chuckle escapes your mouth.

"We have a transactional relationship, my prince. I have given you something and you've not given me anything in return." you scoff.

He tilts his head. "If I kill my lady wife, Viserys might give you the Runestone. It would be killing two birds with one stone." he pondered, smiling to himself as his words rhymed.

"Lady Rhea Royce has cousins." you reminded him.

"Her cousin is sworn to the Kingsguard. The rest of the cousins, you tell me have collectively committed a grave crime that could send them in servitude at the Wall." he schemes.

He casts you a look.

"I will threaten them with a letter, and I know them best - they will flee like a feather on top of a bouncing mattress. This is your path to legitimacy, lady hand - a chance to have a title." he continues.

"Viserys will never allow me to have lands and titles of my own." you looked away from him. A woman from Lys, inheriting a great castle. "The King has always granted your petitions. He treats you like his own daughter. He will give you the Runestone. It is between you and me." he says with certainty.

He takes a deep breath, reaching for his robes on the chair.

He stands up.

"Where are you going?" you inquired.

"To do exactly what I've told you." he rolled his eyes, lifting his grey hood until it was over his head.

Prince Daemon Targaryen was going to be the death of you.

There was a stinging feeling in your heart. Were you cruel for not telling him about the engagement between Laenor and Rhaenyra? It wasn't like you wanted him to remain in the dark about it - but the idea of him marrying his niece brought shivers down your spine.

It felt wrong.

"It behooves me how half of House Royce flees the very second Lady Rhea is murdered. Do you have any idea why that is?" King Viserys asks you while pouring himself a cup of tea.

"They must've murdered her, my king. Why else?" your eyebrows merge together, a line that you've rehearsed a million times in front of the mirror. It was wrong to lie. There was a time in your life where you were pure, unable to lie, but those days were gone now.

You've given this world pieces of your beliefs until none remained the same. This was the law of life - you reminded yourself. There were only two types of people, the preys and the predator. The ones taking and the ones getting took. It wasn't fair, but life was never fair.

"There has been a vacancy in the Runestone. You've been loyal to the crown and to the people of this kingdom, and thus, I wish to endorse you in claiming the Runestone." he says with kindness in his tone.

Your eyes lit up.

You didn't even have to ask him for it.

"I've always admired your dedication. All the sleepless nights that you offered to ensure that my nights would be filled of sleep. There is not that many years in front of me, and before I pass - I wish to repay your dedication and loyalty." he finished.

You force a smile on your face.

"Thank you, your grace. I promise to protect Rhaenyra and if she ever offers me a seat in her council in the future, I wish to offer her the same dedication and loyalty." you thanked.

A genuine chuckle escapes your mouth as you continued dancing with Ser Harwin Strong. There was a certain tranquility in his features. He brought you peace, made you remember a kinder version of yourself.

"You are beautiful, my lady." he complimented you.

There have been hundreds of men that have called you exactly that. There was always lust behind their eyes, but Harwin was different - his eyes had the same twinkle as Daemon's. He looked like he was telling you the truth - that he admired you too.

"I assume that those sentiments have been provided to numerous other maidens in this court, but I still am thankful that you find me thus." you danced to the music, staring deep into his eyes.

You were aware of Daemon's gaze upon your figures. You couldn't understand why he was looking at you - and not Rhaenyra. The wedding has not been conducted yet - he should steal her, marry her.

"I've not told anyone that before. Only you." he insisted.

You could see in his eyes that he was telling the truth.

"Of course, my lord." you smiled cheekily.

"You fancy my lady hand?" Viserys leaned over so that his brother was able to hear his voice. Daemon rolls his eyes. "Her?" he scoffs. "She is a clever and sly little thing. Sometimes, I find myself agreeing with whatever proposal she brings forth - I do not know the purpose but I know that it is for the betterment of the realm." Viserys admits.

Daemon glances at his brother.

You were dancing circles around them.

"If I had a son around her age, I would've wed him to her. She is a lowborn girl, but she knows our highborn games." Viserys says.

There were times where Daemon thought about the feel of your skin. How your voice would sound in the early morning. He wonders if your palms were warm enough to soothe his freezing ones. But alas, those are thoughts that he keeps to himself, because he cannot make the mistake of falling in love with you.

He knows that he is incapable of loving a woman like you. Because you are too good for him, too much like him. He craves his brother's attention and he fears that once he has you - he'll abandon his purpose. He fears that when he realizes that you are all he wants, he'll be content and happy.

He's not ready for a time like that yet.

He is still standing on the threshold, unable to cross the line.

"There are leeches on your throne. The lady hand is loyal to Rhaenyra. It would be wise to keep her." Daemon advised, before standing up and making his way into the dance.

He's not failed to observe you dancing with Ser Harwin. He intends to have a little fun of his own.

He smiles at Lady Laena.

"You are almost as beautiful as your brother." he teased.

Daemon, always so busy in catching up with the dance - too late to realize that it was an illusion, and that there's no where to cling on to.

He found peace shortly after that.

He married Lady Laena and you married Ser Harwin Strong. Thousands of miles away, yet your lives still mirrored each other. He could not speak on your behalf, but he knew that Laena was good for him - she was kind and sweet.

She did not care about the highborn games in Kingslanding. All she wanted was a warm home with little children running along the halls. "How is the babe?" he inquired, placing a hand on top of her swollen stomach. It was their third child.

"They are well, but they miss home." she replied, sitting beside him on the bench. "When will we return to Westeros? I miss Driftmark." she admitted, resting her head on Daemon's shoulders.

Daemon couldn't find it in himself to return home. He loved Laena, but he knows that it would ruin him to see you. With Rhaenyra it was different - their love made itself known, but with you? You both drifted away from each other before that love could release itself.

He fears that seeing you would make him admit that something has been indeed missing.

"Rhaenyra has given birth to another baby boy named Joffrey. And your brother tells me that your old friend, the lady hand, has given birth to her second child with Ser Harwin. A little babe named Duncan." Laena continued, hoping that it would sway her husband into returning.

"We should offer our condolences too." Laena paused.

"- is the babe dead?" Daemon inquired, his wife shakes her head.

"There was a fire in Harrenhal. Ser Harwin died with Ser Lyonel." Laena informed. "What?" Daemon's eyes narrowed.

Before Laena could answer his question, there was a stinging sensation in her stomach, telling her that the babe was to come. "The babe is coming, Daemon." she breathed sharply.

Daemon stares coldly as his wife's body is lowered into the ocean. Consumed by the fire of her own dragon. "I offer my condolences, your daughters look exactly like Laena. My children look like Harwin too and it has been a great pain." you admit, sitting beside him.

He continues looking at the horizon. Unwilling to look at you in fear that his resolve would fade. "How is life, Daemon?" you asked.

"It could be better." he admits. "- and how is your life, lady hand?" he asked in an amused tone. Though, he still refused to meet your eyes.

"My oldest daughter is betroth to Prince Jacaerys. Believe that whatever transaction we did or did not have is ancient history." you cleverly reminded him, while also hinting that your loyalties shift like the tides.

"You wish your daughter be Queen?" he asks plainly.

Your shared language of being blunt with each other not forgotten by time. "I wish our kingdom be safe." you corrected.

"Of course." he exhales.

"Goodbye, Daemon." you place a hand on his shoulder.

He find himself involuntarily looking at you.

The sight of you takes him off guard.

Nothing has indeed changed.

It was a year later when he saw you again. He visited Kingslanding with both of his daughter, for his ill brother.

"My king, you have visitors. Prince Daemon and his daughters, Baela and Rhaena." you announced, allowing the small family to enter Viserys' chambers.

"Brother," Viserys says weakly.

"It has been far too long." Daemon smiles, sitting on Viserys' bedside.

Daemon sits beside you on the bench. Time did not leave an indent on your features, still as beautiful as the day he left. "I never told you but I enjoyed your riddles." he admitted.

You respond with a chuckle.

"Time hath given me the answers to some, but there is one riddle that remains in my mind. Three Great Men." he says, still remembering the story from long ago. "Who dies?" he inquired.

Your past comes back to you. Memories in all of its color.

"I don't know the answer but I know that all men must die." you repeated the answer that you observed from decades back.

"- once the dust settles, and the sellsword swings his sword, someone will want revenge. The sellsword will certainly have his head on a spike soon after, for killing the king, the priest, or the rich man. I've always reminded you and Viserys that I am lowborn - and despite having land and marrying a highborn man, I am still. The highborn schemes are costly, and only benefit a single person. I do not know who lives, but I know who dies. The sellsword. The people." you answered.

"I wanted to leave my post the moment King Viserys gave me Lady Rhea's land, but I remained because I feared that Ser Otto would scheme to have Aegon on the throne. Scheme of war." you reminded.

There were many things that you did for your own benefit, but this wasn't one of them.

"- and the smallfolk are the ones who pay heavily. I thought about a little girl in the slums of Flea Bottom, with ambitions and intelligence greater than any highborn lord. The only difference was, she was born there and you were born here." you continued.

Daemon takes a casual sip of his ale.

"How long has it been since you've last step foot inside of a tavern?" he teased with a small chuckle. "I've only ever gone with you." you smiled, leaning on the chair and soaking in the warm ambiance of the place. Gods, you were the only woman here. How sad.

"Do you ever think about an alternative future? If we'd been the ones married?" you suddenly inquired, allowing the alcohol to speak in your behalf. "What do you mean by that?" he asks, eyebrows merging together and suddenly transported to a past before the fall.

"We were amazing, gods. We had the entire kingdom wrapped around our fingers. Viserys offered an engagement between us, and I declined him because I knew how much you loved Rhaenyra. But seeing that you're not married to her, still, makes me believe that what you felt for her was nothing but limerence." you surmised.

Able to read him like an open book.

"I loved Laena, and I love our daughters." he says, knowing that he wouldn't have it any other way. "I loved Harwin too, he was one of the few men that made me abandon rational thought." you reply, agreeing with him that you wouldn't have it any other way too.

"- but gods, I did burn for you." you added with a chuckle. You take another sip of your ale. "I thought that if we were together, then there was nothing in this world that could be out of reach." you hummed.

Daemon Targaryen was standing at the threshold and he finally has the courage to cross the line. "I did love you. I still love you." he corrected himself. Your head turns in his direction, shocked at his sudden confession.

"There were nights where I'd think about your beauty, the feel of your skin, your voice. But I kept those thoughts to myself, because you would never indulge yourself in me. I knew how dangerous I was. How much I craved my brother's approval. I didn't want it to ruin you. I didn't want you to turn against me." he admits in a low tone, careful not to be heard by anyone.

"I figured that I could only love you from afar, because if you truly knew me then I would drive you away. Time has made me realized that I am not as awful as I believe myself to be." he smiles, but before he could get another word in - your lips were on his.

Finally ready to be together.

It only took more than a decade.

[andraxicated]

𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Pairings: al haitham x f! reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my drafts jail for a month or two

tw: angry sex | hot nerd haitham! | jealousy | outdoor sex | sex pollen | dirty talk | dumbification inspired by sakaki-kun doujinshi

"Look at Alhaitham. He's been like that since yesterday, I think his hair is about to fall off." Kaveh, your Kshahrewar friend comments with a snooty tone, pointing the man behind you with his chin. Upon hearing his name, you turn around to see Alhaitham on a faraway table, scribbling between tall books and parchments.

Being blessed with a vision and physical prowess, his senses are heightened and so he knows when someone is staring at him with intensity, he's even more used to it since he's the type of guy your head would follow. Alhaitham's head rose to catch you shamelessly ogling him, your elbow that was resting on the top rail of the chair fell almost immediately. Every time you see Alhaitham you get this feeling of floating on a cloud; like there were butterflies in your stomach, your fluttering heart prompting the corners of your lips to twitch, and the quivering itch burning between your thighs.

Under the table, you crossed your legs to relieve the tension, something that Alhaitham's eyes diverted to before he settled them back to your gaze. He's been attentive to your body lately and a silly smile breaks out from you until Kaveh's voice snaps you out of your trance, turning your attention back to him.

"What the fuck is wrong with him? Why did he stare for so long?" Kaveh looks troubled and is currently exchanging faces with Alhaitham. Your friend's skeptical face morphs into a frown the longer their staring contest was, until Alhaitham resumed burying his face in his books as Kaveh let out a relieved sigh.

Hopefully, soon his face will be buried between your—

"He looks like he wants to kill me." You suddenly burst out laughing at Kaveh as he looks at you wondering what's funny.

"Why do you seem so happy?" The blonde man in front of you slams his hands on the table, his eyes blown wide in disbelief. "Aren't you forgetting I'm your only friend? You'll be a loner when I'm gone!"

"I think you've forgotten that I have other friends too. And I don't care if it means someone stops freeloading off the books that I bought." You said with an emphasis on the '"I". "We're not even from the same darshan!"

"But some of the core subjects coincide within schools so I borrow from you."

"Sorry but I really have a hard time imagining you graduating" Kaveh fumes at your mean comment and accidentally lets out a loud "HEY!", disturbing other students and earning a look from the supervising personnel.

And Alhaitham noticed that as he can't seem to focus on his studies anymore. Not when he clearly sees your shoulder rising and falling from laughter, the dumb blonde's ugly face frowning then joining you with smiles, and how the atmosphere between you and that guy seems so carefree, so easy. Unlike with him, he notices your nervous body language, the avoidance of his eyes, and how you hate his presence so much you suddenly shut off.

Alhaitham doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit. His fist clenches on his thigh, mind racing on how to get out of this ridiculous predicament he put himself in. He absolutely hates how you hold so much power over him. He even dropped his guard and opened the chance for you to dethrone him as the top student at the Akademiya.

Alhaitham sighs, deciding the library wasn't his peaceful place anymore and leaves out the door.

From the heavy workload you all are suffering, every student needs at least to let loose. Be it a strobe-lit room full of dancing nerds or intense drinking games that has lightweights falling down like candles, everyone who needs to wriggle out of their uniforms will go there, no matter how lame the partygoers are.

"Ugh, this sucks that it's Akademiya only. I see these faces every day, I wanna meet new people!" Your friend moans in agony, her head bending back in exasperation as you two move alongside bodies on the dancefloor. You nod in agreement, frowning then scanning the room for a certain gray-haired man with highlights.

To be honest, you don't care about the people you meet because someone already has your heart.

"Where is Kaveh?!" Your friend asks over the loud music and you roll your eyes before giggling drunkenly. "He's stuck in his dorm doing his assignments due tonight!" You shout with a smile on your face, feeling kind of sorry for the man who's missing out on such a party. "He'll be dead if he doesn't pass that!"

And you burst out laughing yet the grin quickly wipes off your face when your stomach churns and a sudden urge to vomit comes up your throat. You hold a hand up to signal your friend and then push your way to the nearest bathroom, fumbling with the doorknob until it bangs back to you alongside a moan. oh. it's occupied.

You don't waste time getting out of the party and throw your stomach's contents to the nearest potted plant. Apologies to the dendro archon repeat in your mind as you take deep breaths to find your footing, faintly registering the heavy footsteps coming behind you.

"Here" A hand holds out a handkerchief for you to take, your hazy mind looked up to see Alhaitham towering over you, feeling your knees giving up.

"Thank you" You mumble and take the cloth, wiping your mouth as discreet as you can. "I'll clean this—"

"No need to return it to me."

Then before he could turn around, you grab the hem of his jacket, lightly revealing skin with his sleeveless top. You gather yourself before standing upright, shaking your drunk head to make way for clarity.

With a mischievous smile on your face that you hope he would fall for, you propose a late-night rendezvous to the man in front of you.

"Let's go to the city outskirts and sober up."

"You're the only one who's drunk." He deadpans

"Aren't you getting tired of being cooped up in this tall tree? We won't even go that far! Besides, it's busy right now in the city and I heard you don't like people. It's much more quiet out."

He looks at you, contemplating your words, and stares at a part of your face for a bit too long.

It's unfortunately not what you think.

"Brush your teeth first and freshen up. I'll wait for you by the gate." He walks off and your face fell.

Needless to say, you had a little breakdown at your dorm while dressing up in front of the mirror, even looking dumped as you tell your friend you're going out for fresh air.

All changed and clean, you trek with Alhaitham to the city viewpoint. Greenery fills your nostrils as he helped you climb the elevated land. "Thanks" You mumble and he hums, laying down the blanket you brought with you. It was probably done out of good for himself but still, it makes you smile. Maybe you were a little too obsessed with this man.

"Wow, the divine tree looks so pretty from here. It's amazing—" You get cut off by his loud cough that caught your attention. You look back at him to find a tinge of pink on his cheeks, a sheepish look on his face. He licked his lips, a motion you followed with your eyes until he coughed once more.

"Move your skirt, I can see your...underwear" He hesitated before completing his sentence, averting his eyes to the forests from your plump pussy. Embarrassment floods you in turn, moving to a position where your lacy panties are not vulnerable to his eyes. It takes you a moment to recover from digging stares into the soil and for Alhaitham to calm his boner down quietly.

Gulping down the last bit of your embarrassment, you happened to make the purple plants behind you the topic of conversation. Leaning closer to it, you admire the glow of the flora and asked him an obvious question that your brain processed too late. "Are these lavenders?" The smile wipes off your face when you realize they aren't, bracing yourself for the incoming smarty-pants reply.

If it was any other person, he would construct a sentence that subtly hints "dumb" but you're different and he's sure you're not one. Your mouth just runs first before your brain.

"It doesn't take an Amurta student to know it's not lavender. From the shape of the petals, its thickness, and from the strange glow and scent that differs from that of lavenders, it's obviously not one. However, I fail to identify this peculiar-"

"Okay I get it!"

You huff. "It's sweeter though" You comment as you take another whiff of the flowers, the scent filling your nose and into your lungs, strangely lulling your body to relax. Alhaitham knows you shouldn't sniff strange plants in the wild but he also knows to shut himself up right now, lest he upsets you even further.

"It's so addicting like it can be made into perfume! I like the scent!" You exclaim, a sigh leaving your lips as you close your eyes.

As soon as you said you like it, he leaned and carefully sniffed the emitting scent; any reservations he had about the plant were gone as soon as his nose welcomed it. It smells like browned pages of books, the fervid aroma of spices, and...your hair. One that he had the chance to smell one fateful morning in the hallway, where he had to help collect your fallen books.

"It smells so good" He murmurs out of himself until he snaps back and hears your giggles.

"I know! What is this plant? It smells exactly like my favorite flower!"

That is alarming. Whose nose is broken? What exactly is this plant—

His face drops as a sudden burst of arousal hits him like a truck, his dick print rising as panic fills his mind. Oh. OH. How could he realize this just now?

"(y/n) stop. get away from it." His deep voice shocked you, even more so his large hand that dwarfed your wrist and pulled you away. It sent lightning throughout your body, weirdly feeling the sensation on your suddenly sensitive nipples and the insatiable itch that grows inside you.

You know exactly what you're feeling. And it doesn't take long for you to look at the plant with accusing eyes.

Alhaitham removes his hold on you, moving away to a safe distance from you and the flower. "You can go first, I'm better off staying here." His chiseled back faces you and it's hard to fight the urge to wrap your arms around him, you want to latch on him like a leech, crossing your legs on the blanket at the thought.

"I don't think I can travel all the way to the city anymore." You said

"You need to. It's dangerous here."

You have to. He can't exactly walk with his huge problem confined in his pants, nor can he jerk himself off with you behind him. Oh archons he thought about that and it accidentally turned him on further. He had to hold back his groan, hands already undoing his belt quietly until a warm, sneaky touch to his thigh jolts him.

"What the-" "Haitham...I'm sorry about this. I should've been more careful" You whine, slowly creeping onto his lap as his hands stop midair in shock. His cock was protesting heavily, letting out a pained grunt when your soft cunt decided to rest above his bulge. "Fuck! (y/n)!" You attach your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest from your unexpected boldness. It comforts you to feel him hold your hips, pulling you closer to eliminate any space.

"T-there's this feeling of wanting to feel warmth. I feel weird Haitham." You cry out while subtly grinding against his bulge. To have it poke underneath you is already satisfying. What more if it could be inside you?

"You don't know what you're doing to me" He says in a breathless tone, directing light whispers to your ear. "I can't exactly hold myself back. You can go if you don't want to do this with me."

He's offering you an out.

At that, you scoff as you grind deeper against him, letting him hear your tiny moans just outside his ear; the liquid courage left in your veins makes you do things you normally wouldn't.

Anyways, intoxicated or not, you'd do anything just to have a taste of him.

You chuckle, delivering a rippling grind that was bumped by his risen dick. "F-for a man of your caliber, you're pretty dumb in sexual contexts."

You suddenly lift your skirt, letting him see your thighs and his hand immediately flew to it. The flesh he so yearned to caress was in the palm of his hand. And there you exposed the thin string of your lacy panty, bringing his hand to your secret part that's covered by the skirt.

Archons. You were wet.

"You think I want out? Fuck me."

Alhaitham failed to reply. He was too enamored with the wet feeling of your hole, his eyes keep darting between your face and what's underneath your skirt. He could see you liked it from the look on your face, and so he gives it his all as he pumps his fingers faster to gauge reactions.

"H-haitham stop! I don't wanna cum yet!"

"You will when I say so" He exerts dominance with just his deep voice, even more so he's the one fingering you. Alhaitham is the one in charge. You let out a whine higher than your usual voice, shivering in his hold as both of you feel the slow gush of cum.

"(y/n) you're amazing. so so sensitive."

You then kiss him on the cheek, head tilted with a smile. "We haven't even started. Wanna do this right here or go back?"

Alhaitham could still smell the sweet scent of flora, thinking about its effects. He actually wanted to do it right there for something risky but...

"Your call" He spoke and his gaze was affectionate as he returned the question to you.

Ever the longing for adventurous sexcapades, of course, you'll say

"Here. Fuck me here." Wrapping your arms around him for a tight hug, you bring him down with you against the blanket, giggling as the cold air hits your pussy together with Alhaitham's careful weight.

For two aroused individuals, it doesn't take long for the magic to be done. Alhaitham was very eager in undressing you; almost ripping your precious top apart like the tearing sound of your skirt. Not once did he break the lip-locking until you tapped his shoulder.

"Fucking hell? You can kiss-mmmph!" The man didn't even let you finish your compliment, because how could he? Your lips were swollen with your hair falling behind your back and the matching black bra decorating your torso was too pretty to remove, but he bets the mounds hiding was even prettier.

He shimmies out of his own clothing, flying them wherever they ended up. As you're enchanted by the removal of his pants, his sneaky fingers creep between your legs, slotting them above your panties, and checking how wet it is.

"Haitham!" You whine, sparks going to your cunt as his digits busy themselves on stimulating you. He needs to make sure they're wet enough, although deep inside he knows it's just an excuse to feel your wet pussy. He just can't get enough of how soft and stretchable it is.

Alhaitham groans, his hard cock becoming even more painful, aching for something to sink in. "Shit" He shivers, trailing pecks from your temples to both your nipples. "I'm gonna put it inside. Deep breaths darling. Red's the safe word."

The thick head suddenly intrudes at your opening, letting you feel the stretch that completely surrenders your body to his. As long as you're under him, you're in his care. Your Haitham won't let anything painful happen to his pretty girl.

"Y-you're big! Ahhh~" What should've been painful with someone of his large size has become pleasurable pain, probably thanks to the plant in your blurry periphery. It rouses you more and more as his cock glides within your wetness.

He buries inches deeper, shushing your grunts with sloppy kisses as he tries to fight the tightness. "Loosen up, it's alright." He says and you nod, letting his member push all the way through yet not hit the end.

"Deeper!-hah-you can still go further-AHHH!" You shriek. Eyes wide from Alhaitham's cockhead prodding at your deepest part. He was gaining momentum to slam his dick flush against you, letting out a sexy moan when he successfully does so.

He looks at what a breathless mess you are, just from merely entering he's unraveled you already. You shiver and throw your head back, the intense weight pulsing inside you makes you keen.

Alhaitham looks equally ravished like he's having a hard time moving back and forth—all thanks to how tight you are. "It doesn't hurt?" He asks, concern showing on his face and the slow pace.

"N-no. My pussy needs you more. Please!" You follow your sentence with a moan, feeling the wetness of sweat between your thighs and mixed substance from the both of you. Alhaitham nods and starts his game at a dizzying pace that rocks your vision up and down. Your moans start to vibrate too as you lay there and take his cock like you wanted.

"Haitham so good! Uh uh uh~" He picks up the pace, now feeling the easy glide against your walls from how wet you are. He pushes his hair back that falls on his face, focusing on where you're connected and the little bumps on your tummy when he knocks deep.

"Of course it feels good. You're dripping right now." Alhaitham talks while rocking his hips forward into your hole and you take note of the obscene pap sound his heavy balls makes against your skin. He leans down and nips you on the neck, showing some attention too on both of your breasts.

You tighten against him, squirming yet his strength in gripping your thigh coaxes you to calm down. "You know why it feels good?" He suddenly asks and you make a motion of squinting your eyes in confusion.

"Because you've been thinking about it the whole time, haven't you?"

"Ever since that day in the library—no." Alhaitham suddenly thrusts on the last word, exactly into your sensitive spot and it had tears springing to your eyes. "Ever since we met in that hallway. You've liked me...didn't you?" His cheeks flush red.

"W-what?" Your mind was too fucked out to process questions. But this seemed like an important one so you try and listen.

"Don't try to deny it (y/n). You're clenching so hard on me-ah fuck." The little flutters your walls make around his cock fuels him to pump and pleasure you harder. Alhaitham wants to be the one to give you what you want, what you deserve. No other man can see this view except for him, he'll make sure that he is the only thing you know after this.

You buck your hips up in tandem with his thrusts, whines falling out of your mouth as Alhaitham watches you transform into a cock hungry slut. You weren't even listening to him, and that's what he hates the most when he's speaking about something of importance.

"You slut. You weren't listening aren't you?" His tone had become dangerously low and you blink your eyes hoping some clarity would return to your mind. It's not your fault his cock is fat and long—

"(y/n)"

"I'm listening"

"Then what did I say?"

You don't reply and he clicks his tongue. You also watch it poke against his cheek, a sign that a man is ticked. "I'm sorry". An apology came out of nowhere but you deemed it was a good response to whatever he was talking about.

The length inside you slips away, something that made your eyes go wide into a pleading look.

"You don't even know what the fuck you're apologizing for." Then Alhaitham removes his cock inside you in one go. A moan rips itself out of you as you cry and kick his back with your toes, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

"No, please Haitham, put it in I'm sorry! You just feel so good—ah ohhh!" You sob then shiver as a puddle of white pools below, heating up in your body in embarrassment. And it doesn't help that Alhaitham is just staring at it with his stoic face.

"...You're unbelievable." He muses as he watches your abused cunt glisten, his dick twitching and begging to feel your warmth once again. You whine and sit up in an attempt to cling onto him but before your legs could move, he has your waist in a controlling grip and flips you over for you to face the blanket.

"W-why?" You stutter, legs shaking as they're unable to support your whole body on all fours. But Alhaitham doesn't reply and instead answers by prodding his tip at your entrance and burying himself to the hilt. You moan while the sheets are crumpled within your fists. You could feel the weight of his hands around your waist, his heavy balls making plop sounds against your ass as he rushes the pace to get to his high.

He's pretty sure you're too far gone with the way you're bucking towards him, whimpers mixed in with moans about how big he is and how good he is to you. He feels a sense of triumph upon corrupting you, gripping your chin to redirect for a sloppy kiss, barely able to contain himself with the way your tongue knocked on his own.

Alhaitham pulls away to see your glassy eyes and felt the need to pump his cock faster, fully making it his mission to make you cum while holding eye contact.

"Look at me baby, look at me while you cum. I'm the only one who can make you like this." The cockhead hits your spot and you scream, gushes of liquid going out from you as pleasure wrecks your weak body, shaking in Alhaitham's arms as he presses a kiss to your head, continuing to chase his high.

"Good girl"

"Haitham it's too much. I can't anymore!" You cried, squirming in his grasp yet he tells you to stay still, doing everything he can to finish inside you. You maintain eye contact with him, staccato moans vibrating with the impact of his thrusts as he suddenly pinches your clit, making you let out a yelp as squirts of cum embarrassingly come out of you.

In the middle of your haze, Alhaitham leans to your neck and sucks on your skin, whispering profanities and words that he would only admit in the heat of the moment.

His hips met against your ass, wetness coating his shaft as his abs flexes in each thrust. "I don't like it when you're with him—or anyone else." You realize he's talking about something important so you listen in, trying very hard to maintain sanity against the drag of his cock against your walls.

He's relentless, groaning as the flush of red deepens on his cheeks and at the tip of his ear.

"So remember that I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. You're mine (y/n), mine." He stills as a load of cum bursts inside you, filling you up nice and warm as you moan at his claim on you. He whispers another near your ear and his breath tickles along his large hands soothing your backside. "And I'm yours. I'm only yours, remember that too."

You let out a breathy chuckle, legs giving out along with your sore pussy that's still plugged with his seed. You turn to face him and he looked insanely good from your view, hair sticking to his forehead and a body that overwhelmingly covers your own.

"You're so obsessed with me, nerd." You jest, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before slumping against the ground, fatigued and dirty from the sex.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

[ry3breadl0rd]

some titles uncle rick deprived us of

”I Fall To My Death (Again)” for the fall into tartarus

“I Get Mugged by Monsters” that one chapter where leo’s tool belt gets stolen

“Jason Meets his Brother” hercules chapter

“I Obtain A Death Ray” the sphere thing

“Leo Makes a Great First Impression” when he blows up new rome

“I Scare Some Pirates With An Unofficial Sponsorship” that chapter where percy scares off the pirates with diet coke

“A Spider Hates My Mom” annabeth at any point with arachne ngl

“Scrawny Is The New Sizzling Hot” leo+hazel with narcissus

“We Get Slapped to New York” zeus smacking the argo ll to new york

“Nyx Gives Us A Tour” when they convince nyx to not murder them immediately by pretending they’re tourists

“My Evil Great-Grand Mother Wakes Up” self explanatory i hope

“Hazel Orders A Horse From Amazon” hazel meets arion

“I Get Blasted Out Of This World” leo goes to ogygia

“Fleecy Does Us A Solid” when they meet iris

“I Tame A Dragon” leo with argo

“I Vaporize Some Old Ladies” first chapter of son

“I Give My Dad Some Decor Tips” nico and hades conversation

“Piper Talks Her Boyfriend To Life” when piper charm speaks jason back to life

“I Play Roulette With A Blind Man” when percy drinks the gorgons blood

“Piper Sees Dead People (In Her Knife)” i might be remembering wrong but it’s that one where they try to trick piper by showing her how her friends were doing in her knife, like trying to convince her they were all dead

“We Use Adidas To Summon A Goddess” nike chapter

“Mudman, Hazel, and Frank Get Brunch” when they get to alaska

“I Learn The Power Of Positivity” percy and misery

“We Meet A Cool Girl (Literally)” khione chapter

“I’m Leo. You Killed My Mother. It’s My Turn” based on the funny comment:) it’s for when leo blows up gaea

“My Nosebleed Wakes Up My Great-Grandma” when gaea wakes up

“Mr. D Hates Ballet” when he helps percy and jason against the twin giants

“Frank Gets A Blast To The Past” when hazel shares her past with him

“Frank Sets Himself On Fire” with the firewood and freeing thatanos

“I Got A Girlfriend?” jason first chapter

”Why Did It Have To Be Poison?” that chapter with polybotes

“Jason Becomes The Oldest Demigod!” old man jason

“Game Night Goes Too Far” war games in son

“The World Hates Us, Literally” hoh when they’re low key attacked by like everything

“We Traumatize Frank” when percabeth gets caught together

“Lions, and Tigers, and Frank, Oh My!” when frank unlocks his shapeshifting stuff

“I Aquire a Misfortune Cookie” i might be delulu but didn’t nemesis omfg i knew that why did i put nike give leo a fortune cookie to open if he needed help?? but price would not be fun

“The Law is On My Side For Once” percy and terminus vs polybotes

“Being A Dumb Blonde Has Its Perks” annabeth when she drops the knife that one chapter

[houpss]

SKZ have a crush on you

you can come up with the ending yourself...whether the reader will be with the member or not is up to you!

light angst, a little fluff, uncertain relationship

Bang Chan

oh...this man talks about his feelings openly and without fear.

He literally phrases: "I'll steal and fuck your girlfriend while you're not looking."

He has a huge amount of female and male attention, but...

But it doesn't work out that way with you...

You were out of his reach.

You were too beautiful, too sweet, too good...he wasn't like that.

Chris is the one who will call you his muse and write romantic songs for you, some of which have been published.

His love is manifested in acts of care, he is always there, he is more tactile with you than with others.

He will give you whatever you want, just ask.

Chan has 8 members so he is like a dad...he protects and cares for them

And he also wants to take care of you.

He wants to love you openly.

But you didn’t notice his feelings.

Although...you loved Chris. Literally loved to the moon and back.

For some reason, it seemed to you that Chris only saw you as a friend or family member, just like his Members.

Yeah...close friends....

He will say exactly the same phrase to you:

"You came..."–"You called"

It seems you are both fools.

Maybe he's too soft with you? Maybe he needs to leave?

He won't be able to give up on you.

I will kill myself, I will destroy my soul, but I will be with you.

But i'll wait for you

I love you to the moon and back

기다려 여기 me and max

서운해해도 don't be mad

너한텐 할 수 없는 game (Bloo-But i'll wait for you)

Lee Know

How could Minho let this happen?

Lee Minho was head over heels in love with you.

No one has seen his loving eyes, no one has ever felt his gentle touch.

How did he allow himself to fall in love with you?

This is a completely crazy idea, he didn’t love to love.

But you turn his world upside down, he is literally lost in you.

You clearly feel like Minho hates you.

Minho is like cold winter, he is like snowy weather, he looks like frosty weather.

And you were in summer, you're complete opposites.

But even after the coldest winter, love comes.

He calls you the most beautiful adjectives, it’s like he’s trying to silently scream about his feelings.

He speaks directly and harshly, he loves the truth straight forward.

"And you will be obsessed with me, I will be everywhere: I will be in your favorite songs, I will be between the lines of books, I will be in every passerby... I am your addiction"

Lee Minho couldn't fall in love, but he wanted to love.

All the pretty stars shine for you, my love

Am I the girl that you dream of? (Lana Del Rey–Pretty when you cry)

Seo Changbin

He loved and hated you at the same time.

Oh.. Seo Changbin can hate?

Yes, he did it with you. He loved you so much that he hated you for it.

You were everywhere, you were ingrained in his existence and mind.

He was very sweet and friendly and loved people.

It didn’t work out that way with you, it was as if he deliberately didn’t want to have much contact with you.

He loved you silently, probably without asking for anything in return.

Before he even notices, he begins to pay attention to you... be it small acts of attention or dialogues with you.

"You can take Changbin out of first love, but not first love out of Changbin."

Again, it was like you were different, you weren’t like anyone else. He noticed you immediately when he met you.

He seems upset that you will never be his.

Oh...the boy is gloomy. The boy looks like a thunderstorm.

Conquer your lonely heart, get used to the emptiness.

When you ran your fingers over your lips

I bought it from glossy magazines

Everything you asked for and even what you didn’t ask for

How can you be so terribly beautiful? (Rocky-WITCH)

Hwang Hyunjin

Oh yes, you and Hyunjin have been friends since childhood.

It even got to the point that you are idols in the same agency. No wonder Hyunjin adores you, he's obsessed.

Fans loved your interactions, they were sure there was something between you and Hyunjin.

Hyunjin wants to get into your soul, he wants to take your heart into his cold hands.

You were the forbidden fruit, and forbidden fruit is always sweet.

It’s as if you’re chasing him, you’re everywhere, he feels you everywhere.

But you're just his friend, his sweet best friend.

It was normal for you to peck Hyunjin on the lips, naturally in private or during greetings (while no one was looking). Hyunjin feels addicted.

You are worse than drugs, you cause an addictive effect. You are his absolute delight.

The boy will paint your portraits, he will exalt you like a goddess.

So why do you only see him as a friend?

Hwang Hyunjin doesn't deserve to be your friend, he wants to be your boyfriend.

The boy loves to hurt himself, he loves hardcore. He loves pain and whines a lot.

He just replaces you with pain, it helps.

Touch me, yeah

I want you to touch me there

Make me feel like I am breathing

Feel like I am human (The neighbourhood–A little death)

Han Jisung

You never paid attention to Jisung.

But Jisung was so loud and cheerful that he started to annoy you.

Jisung did this on purpose, he liked you.

The boy will notice you immediately, you immediately fell into his soul. So cold and inaccessible.

He wants to melt the ice on your heart, he wants to become your sun.

Every day he fell more in love with you, the cold intensifying his desire.

“Your love is addictive” – your words

He is very kind and cheerful with you, he is so easy to talk to.

He won't give up to get you. Even when you send him the rudest obscenities

I'm your boy.

He will sing to you, and you will ask him to shut up. You secretly love it, his voice is so beautiful.

But you should hate Han Jisung because it's the right thing to do.

You would get closer to him, but...

No.

"Is it fashionable to jerk off to him?"

"hit of the season"

Lee Felix

It was impossible not to fall in love with Felix.

everyone loves Felix!

And he loves you.

This sunny boy literally drowned in his love for you, it completely absorbed him and did not allow other feelings to pass through.

But you don't seem to notice him.

Felix dreamed about you, you are in his thoughts. The first thought in the morning, a relieving thought when he is busy and the last thought before going to bed.

He's trying to get as close to you as possible

He will become your best friend.

Felix is too good, he is an angel in a human body.

The world is not worthy of Felix, so why did he love you?

Every day, like a painful melody, this unrequited love sounded in his heart. He experienced all emotions - from boundless happiness to deep sadness - alone

He couldn't imagine life without you

If you leave, there will be no point in living.

He writes you poems, he gives you the most expensive gifts, he just wants you to love him. Love him at least a little.

Perhaps his efforts will remain irretrievably lost in time. But one thing is certain: he will continue to love you, deeply and truly, even if he never hears your answer.

Come on scratch my back

So as to reach the heart

Both you and I want this (ЩЕНКИ–dirt)

Kim Seungmin

It's like he's afraid to get close to you.

On the contrary, he moves away. Every day it gets stronger, he loves you so much and doesn’t want to see you so much.

Seungmin took this step not because of a lack of love; in fact, on the contrary, he was struck by this love.

In every breath you took, every word you said, he found the perfect embodiment of his dreams. You were his sun, his muse, his everything.

But he knew he couldn't be with you. He saw how disappointed you were in your past love, how your trust and heart were damaged. He couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake. He couldn't risk their relationship knowing that the end could only be pain and disappointment.

It hurts so much to give up on someone you love.

He deserved happiness, he deserved love, but he couldn't have it with you.

He didn't want to ruin your life or be the source of your pain.

He will go away and it will be easier for everyone.

He will disappear from your life as suddenly as he appeared.

He will never forget you, he will never stop loving you. But he knows that sometimes the best decision is to let go of the one you love. This is exactly what he did because to him, your happiness was much more important than his own.

He looks at the dawn and remembers you.

Your nose is covered in cocaine, you can barely stand

I am the secret that you cannot hide

I think about you too much (Pharaoh-unplugged 2)

Yang Jeongin

You are his first love.

He sees a future with you, he sees stars in you.

It was the first time he felt such strong feelings for someone.

Oh, he is just learning about love, but it can hurt or beat sometimes. Love can completely break the psyche.

But he doesn't care as long as you exist.

Jeongin will turn to the Hyuns for advice. how to get your attention and make you fall in love.

He will be so romantic...he will be so gentle with you.

He is afraid to do something wrong so as not to scare you away

He will be a gentleman and will wait for the moment until you fall in love, he will do everything for this!

He will wait for you all his life if necessary, but I am sure that you will fall in love faster.

“He replaced my home, love and friends. He is my everything.”

Jeongin is like warm weather, everyone is waiting for him and wants him.

Feeling so lonely, 'cause it's not enough

Missin' you only ever since we fell in love (Ciggarets after sex–Touch)

[believemedarlin]

The Perfect Man

Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader (3.9k words) Also available on AO3

Summary:

“You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued

***

A drunken night out with the girls leads to some interesting revelations.

***

“Let’s play Fuck, Marry, Kill.”

A round of groans sounded from the table, but Penelope Garcia was not to be dissuaded. 

“Come on, ladies. It’ll be fun!”

Her best puppy dog eyes firmly in place, Penelope implored her friends and coworkers with a practiced look. You were holding strong until she brought out the big guns and pouted at you.

A mere ten seconds later you caved. 

“Okay, fine,” You sighed. “But can we use kick instead of kill? I always hated that option. Why do you have to kill them when kicking would be just as effective in showing your lack of interest? No death required.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Penelope immediately agreed with a nod. “You know I’m a pacifist at heart.”

She turned to the other two women seated at the table, pout back in full force. JJ gave in first, patting Penelope’s hand with an indulgent smile and a nod. 

Seeing that she was outnumbered, Emily shrugged. “Sure. But I’ll need another drink if we’re doing this. I haven’t played this since college.”

“I’ll get us all another round.” Penelope jumped to her feet to join her and they made their way to the bar, weaving through the other patrons.

It was a rare Friday night off and the women of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had decided to go out for a much-needed night of ladies-only fun and frivolity. They had happily left the guys to sort out their evenings and escaped the second the clock struck five.

They were all a few drinks in at this point, which is most likely the reason Penelope had suggested the game. She always got a bit playful when she drank.

They returned a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand. 

Once settled, Penelope leaned in, an eager smile on her face. “Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kick. Henry Cavill, Ben Barnes, Zachary Levi. And go!”

Emily took a sip of her drink and wasted no time in voicing her choices, followed by JJ and you. You took turns coming up with more and more outlandish options, and pleasantly spent the next hour drinking and laughing with your friends.

You had just finished giggling over Penelope’s reasoning behind her choosing to kick Willy Wonka and marry Jareth the Goblin King so she could enjoy a night with Conan the Barbarian when Emily leaned in with a smirk.

“I’ve got a good one. Hotch, Morgan, and Reid.”

The table erupted in a chorus of ooohs and laughter. 

JJ bit her lip in thought. “Okay, since we know them personally and I’m a happily taken woman, I’m going to change mine to kiss, because it’s weird to say I want to fuck any of them. So, uh, I’ll go with kiss Morgan, marry Reid, and kick Hotch. But only barely, because I do not want him angry with me.”

“Easy,” Penelope chirped. “Fuck Morgan, marry Morgan, and kick Reid and Hotch.”

You, JJ, and Emily burst into laughter, with JJ swatting Penelope on the arm. “You can’t double up like that!”

“Can too! My game, my rules. Besides, it’s special circumstances with Morgan as an option.”

Emily snorted, then grinned. “Hmm. I think I’d go with fuck Morgan, marry Hotch, and kick Reid.”

All eyes then turned to you as you stared into your drink, taking entirely too long as you overthought the options.

Eventually, Emily cleared her throat and you looked up to see her watching you expectantly.

“What?” You grinned sheepishly with a shrug. “It’s harder than you’d think!”

The ladies teased you good-naturedly until you finally said, “Okay, okay! Um, I think…” 

You blew out a breath in a long sigh. “Fuck Reid, marry Hotch, kick Morgan. No wait… Maybe fuck Hotch, marry Reid?”

Emily and JJ cackled while Penelope put on a fake offended air. “Why you gotta kick my beloved cinnamon hot chocolate Adonis not once, but twice? He’s the perfect man!”

"I mean, a lot of women would think that, yeah, but not me.”

Penelope gasped and pressed her hand to her chest dramatically. “Why, I never.”

You giggled with a shrug. “Sorry?” 

“You’re forgiven.”

“What I want to know,” JJ chimed in with a mischievous grin, “is why you can’t decide between Reid and Hotch on who to marry?”

You buried your face in your hands to hide your blush. “I don’t know! Both seem like solid choices. I think they’d both make good husbands.”

Emily smirked. “Sure it wasn’t because you couldn’t decide which you’d rather fuck?”

Penelope and JJ burst into laughter again while you groaned into your hands.

“You all are menaces. I don’t know why I spend time with you.”

“Because we’re wonderful people and you love us.”  Penelope teased.

“That’s debatable.” You mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” she leaned into your side and laid her head on your shoulder. “You know you adore us.” Penelope batted her eyes and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, I do.”

She cheered and called for another round of drinks.

The game wound down and devolved into a rather extensive list of men and women that each of the ladies wouldn’t mind enjoying some personal one-on-one time with.

You had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the past few minutes, chin in hand and elbow on the table, your mind pondering on something Penelope had said earlier. Your voice took on a contemplative tone as you mused aloud, “You know, if you combined all the men on the team… they’d make the perfect man.”

“What?” Emily sputtered into her wine.

Penelope giggled while JJ looked intrigued.

“Okay, just hear me out. Now, granted, everyone’s idea of the perfect man is different but for me… If we go by physical attributes first, you have to admit that each guy is objectively attractive on their own. I mean seriously, was it a prerequisite that everyone has to be outrageously good-looking to be a member of the team?”

The ladies heartily agreed with laughter and nods, but you gestured across the table to them. “I’m including you three in this too. Have you looked at yourselves? You’re all absolutely gorgeous.”

“Damn right, we are,” Emily exclaimed as she high-fived JJ.

You raised your glass to her and took a sip before expanding on your premise. “So by themselves, each man is handsome but combined…”

You tilt your head in thought. “For me, it would be Reid’s hair. I’ve always liked longer hair on a guy and have you seen those curls when he lets it grow out? And then add in Hotch and Rossi’s dark hair and … yeah. Next would be Morgan and Rossi’s facial hair. I don’t know about you ladies but I like a man with a bit of scruff, you know what I mean? Goatee or full beard or just a couple of days growth, hell even a good five o’clock shadow, as long as it’s maintained and not all scraggly, I like it. Oooh, remember when Hotch came back with a beard?

“Yeah,” you sighed, a bit more dreamily than you had intended, surely caused by the late hour and not the memory of a casually dressed, bearded Hotch. “Like that.”

All three ladies shared a knowing look, but you paid them no mind. 

“Though there is something to be said about a freshly shaved face. It’s so soft…” You sighed again.

“And then there’s height.” You knew you were rambling, but with the alcohol fueling you, there was little chance of stopping you now. “They’re all at least 6 foot so the height difference is perfect for both cuddles and forehead kisses.”

At this, Emily snorted. “Forehead kisses?”

“Yes,” you snipped primly. “They are the pinnacle of non-lip-to-lip kisses and they are my favorite thing. They just make you feel so adored. Now shush.”

You shooed her and rested your chin back in your hand. “Let’s see… Eyes. Honestly, I think they all have lovely eyes. I’m not picky on eye color really but I think Hotch’s stand out the most to me. I mean, have you seen his eyelashes? It should be criminal for a man to have such beautiful eyelashes.”

Another round of nods and hummed agreements sounded from the table.

“You know,” you continue with barely a pause, “I’ve never been a fan of really buff dudes, which sorry Pen, but that’s kinda why poor Morgan got kicked twice.” You shrugged unapologetically at her. 

“I’ve always preferred lean guys. Not scrawny but not bugling out his shirt, you know? Strong but not shoved in your face. But!” You sit straighter in your chair, index finger raised to emphasize your point. “That’s just looks. Personality-wise, I’m drawn to kindness first and our boys all have that in spades. And they each show it in different ways, but it’s always present.”

You met Penelope’s eyes. “And Morgan’s kindness absolutely overrides his excessive muscle mass. He’s honestly one of the kindest people I know, even if he’d deny it. He’s not humble about a lot of things, but he is about that.”

Your eyes dropped to the table as your finger ran along the wood grain. “I also like intelligence and while yes, first thoughts go to Reid, the others are all brilliant too. Like, Rossi is so wise! It seems like he always knows what’s going on with someone before anyone else, and always seems to know just what to say just when you need to hear it. And they each have strengths that I admire. I genuinely like each of them as a person and I’m proud to know them and am honored they consider me a friend. Honestly, I feel that way about all of you.”

“Aw!” Penelope sniffled. “That’s so sweet. We love you too, you know.”

You gave her hand a quick squeeze and took another sip of your drink. 

“What about lips?”

You blinked at JJ. “Lips? I’m not sure. I don’t know that I look at them much.”

Emily tilted her head. “You seriously don’t look at men’s lips?”

“Not really? I mean, I notice smiles. And honestly, how did I not start with that? It’s usually one of the first things I notice about someone. Smiles make everyone look twice as attractive. Oh, and a sense of humor! Gotta love a man who can make you laugh.”

“This one is definitely Morgan,” Emily chimed in and you nodded in agreement while Penelope raised her glass.

“Absolutely. He always makes me laugh, but so do the others. Rossi is snarky, which I appreciate as a fellow snarker. I can’t tell you the number of times he’s made me hold back a laugh during a round table. Reid can be really funny, too. Especially when we’re making Star Trek or Doctor Who references that no one else gets. Except you, Pen, but you’re usually in your lair. And Hotch—”

“No,” Emily cut in. “No way you think he’s funny. The man barely smiles.”

You tsked and leaned in, your tone turning a bit haughty. “First of all, I think it’s a good thing that he holds those back because have you seen how handsome he is when he smiles? His whole face transforms and he has dimples. Dimples . It’s ridiculous and no one would be able to focus on work if he was blinding us with his smile all the time. And secondly, yes. He’s hilarious, actually. He has a dry sense of humor that gets me every time. And he is so straight-faced about it. I laughed embarrassingly loud once at something he said and I had to leave the room because I couldn’t stop giggling. And the man had the nerve to be smug about it later.”

You shook your head with exasperated fondness, not noticing the raised eyebrows and pointed looks the other ladies were sharing.

“Anyway,” You sighed and leaned back in your chair. “Morgan is my biggest supporter, Reid nerds out with me, Rossi gives the best advice, and Hotch makes me feel safe. All things that would attract me to someone. So, with their powers combined…” You spread your hands in a sweeping motion. “The perfect man.”

“Huh,” Penelope hummed. “You know, I kinda see it.”

“See?” You grinned triumphantly. “We really do work with amazing guys.”

A cry of ‘hear, hear’ sounded around the table and the four of you leaned in to clink glasses.

Emily settled back in her chair with a smirk, her eyes focused on you. “Okay, you waxed poetic about the guys. Now, what about us?”

You grinned. “You, my darling lady loves, all hold a special place in my heart. There’s no way I could choose. You are each the perfect woman.”

Another cheer went up and everyone downed their drinks, laughing merrily.

The outing wound down about half an hour later. You each stumbled your way outside, Emily and Penelope deciding to share a taxi.

You stood with JJ as you waved the other two goodbye; you waiting for your own taxi and JJ waiting for Will to pick her up.

“You know,” she said conversationally, her eyes on the street. “You mentioned Hotch quite a few times describing your perfect man.”

You blinked. “What? I did not.”

She turned to you with a wide grin. “Oh yes, you did. No denying it now.”

You sputtered, not sure how to reply.

She chuckled and laid a hand on your arm, just as your taxi arrived. “Seems to me like he ticks quite a few of the boxes for your perfect man.” She leaned in to whisper, “So what are you going to do about it?”

JJ winked as she stepped back to open the door of the car that pulled in behind your taxi and slid in. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nodded numbly, mechanically climbing into the back seat of the taxi while Will and JJ patiently waited to make sure you were safely on your way.

You mumbled out your address and barely noticed the drive home, arriving much sooner than expected, as your mind was focused on JJ’s words.

You shook your head as you entered your apartment, determined to think no more of it. It was just a silly statement born out of one too many drinks.

There was no way you thought of Hotch that way.

No way at all.

***

The rest of the weekend was miraculously quiet and work-free. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much time to yourself, so you took full advantage of it.

As days off always tended to do, they flew by too quickly and Monday morning arrived before you were ready for it. You greeted everyone when you entered the department, nodding to Rossi and waving at Morgan and Penelope as you settled in at your desk.

No new case had come in, so today would be an in-office day catching up on paperwork and caseloads.

You were productive throughout the day, completing most of the pending work assigned to you, and you were feeling quite accomplished with the diminishing stack in your inbox.

Only a few minutes remained in the workday when you stood from your chair, stretching your stiff back, and made your way up the stairs to Hotch’s office to drop off an armful of completed reports.

You knocked on his door, only having to wait a second before he bid you enter.

He was focused on the open file in front of him and he didn’t look up until you spoke. “These are ready for you to review, Hotch.”

His eyes shot up to meet yours before dropping to the folders in your arms. He gestured to the corner of his desk nearest you and went back to scribbling notes on the report. “You can just leave them there, thank you.”

You set them down next to another stack and grimaced. There were multiple bundles of files littering his desk. While in-office days were great for clearing your desk of work, it unfortunately always added to Hotch’s workload.

“Looks like everyone had similar offerings for you today. Will you be able to leave at a reasonable hour tonight? I’d be happy to help with anything if you need it.”

Hotch finished the line he was writing and looked up at you through his long lashes, a small, shy kind of smile curving his lips. His cheeks were just a touch pinker than usual and you blinked because you’ve never seen that look on his face before.

He looked almost bashful, a word you would never have associated with Aaron Hotchner.

But damn, was it a good look on him. He really was a handsome man, wasn’t he? Kind, funny, successful, and a great father. He was practically the perfect man.

You froze and blinked again at the realization.

“Oh, uh,” his deep voice broke you from your thoughts. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got it covered. I shouldn’t be here too much longer.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded and prayed he couldn’t see the blush you knew was rapidly spreading across your face. “Well, good night, sir.” 

You spun on your heel and opened the door, ready to flee as fast as your feet could carry you.

His low, murmured good night followed you out the door and you nearly shivered because holy hell, even his voice was attractive.

You quickly grabbed your things and nearly sprinted to the elevators, not wanting to stay one second longer around skilled profilers who could read you so easily, knowing they would spot your flushed cheeks instantly and want to know what caused them. Or worse, they’d already know, and that was not something you were ready to discuss with any of them at the moment.

You had fully intended on ignoring JJ’s words from Friday night, but after your reaction just now, you knew she was right.

Hotch was pretty damn close to fitting the idea of your perfect man.

Or maybe, the idea of your perfect man came from Hotch.

You sighed as you entered the thankfully empty elevator, finally admitting to yourself the truth that had been staring you in the face for longer than you’d ever care to admit.

You had it bad for Aaron Hotchner.

Oh, you were in so much trouble.

***

Aaron watched as you left his office, your face a delightful shade of pink.

His eyes followed as you rushed to your desk, snatched up your things, and darted out the door.

He hadn’t meant to overhear Prentiss and Garcia’s conversation that morning as they reminisced over their night out last Friday. He certainly hadn’t meant to linger when they mentioned you and your adorable—according to Garcia—rant about the perfect man. And he most certainly hadn’t meant to lean in rather eagerly when they whispered about just how many times his name had come up as an example during said rant.

He had been pleasantly surprised and somewhat stunned by the information. He’d never thought of himself as an ideal for the perfect man. 

Sure, he supposed he had a few attributes that some women might find appealing. He had a successful career and tried to keep in shape, though that was more for his job than vanity.

But he never imagined that anyone would look at him and think that he was a paradigm of their perfect man. Least of all you.

You were a brilliant profiler, exceptional in the field and able to hold your own in a fight when needed, but you were also caring with the victims and their families. You were witty and kind and easygoing. You were someone who smiled freely and laughed readily and did your best to cheer and encourage the team on tough cases.

Not someone who would think of stoic, hardass Aaron Hotchner as the perfect man.

Still, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from drifting to the window of his office throughout the day, seeking you out.

He thought back to when you joined the BAU and how quickly you became not only an essential part of the team but a much-welcomed member of their little family. Everyone adored you and Aaron himself had to admit that you had wormed your way into his heart.

He loved the time he got to spend with you when the team got together to unwind after a case and the little moments of levity you all shared in between working. He recalled the times he managed to make you laugh and the occasions where he found himself chuckling as well. You were easy to talk to and more often than not, the two of you fell into conversation whenever everyone else was either asleep or preferred to be left alone on the jet going to and from cases.

He genuinely enjoyed your company and found himself wishing he could enjoy it more often.

His eyes wandered to the bullpen again, zeroing in on you almost immediately. Prentiss and Morgan were standing by your desk when one of them said something that made you laugh.

Your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth opened to release an enchanting sound of delight. Aaron couldn’t look away and had to admit that you really were quite lovely. Inside and out.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat looking at you but knew it was longer than appropriate. He shook his head and forced himself to focus back on his work.

He managed to shove all thoughts of you from his mind for the remainder of the day until a soft knock sounded on his door late in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to look up from the report he was notating after giving a gruff come in until he heard your voice.

Aaron couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up to meet yours before dropping them to the large stack of files in your arms.

He gestured for you to place them on the corner of his desk next to the ones Reid had deposited earlier and thought that would be his singular interaction with you for the day.

But then your caring side came out again and you sweetly offered to help him, a proposition that both filled him with fondness and nervousness.

After all his wayward thoughts about you throughout the day, he wasn’t sure if being in close proximity with you was a good idea or not. 

Aaron looked up at you again, the late afternoon sun enveloping you, enhancing your features, and his only thought was that he’d been wrong earlier. 

You weren’t just lovely. You were stunning.

In that moment, he was completely captivated by you and his thoughts ran rampant as he cataloged every minute detail of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your brilliance, and all the little things that made you you . Everything that endeared you to him.

But his thoughts came to a crashing halt when he realized that he was staring at you. He felt his face flush and he stammered as he gently declined your help.

You bid him a good night, but Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off the spreading blush on your cheeks. It kept his attention until you were out of sight.

He blinked and dropped his eyes back to the forgotten report in front of him, a slow smile creeping across his face.

He may not have meant to overhear the conversation that caused him to think about you all day, but he was starting to be glad he had. It seemed it was all he needed to face a few truths he had been in denial about for a long while now.

He was completely and utterly smitten with you.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it. 

Aaron sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #10

synopsis: how the characters react when you, their s/o, gets hurt. 🩹

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha, reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: i am cooking up a storm, so watch out for that & also hit double digits!!

☆ eren jaeger

bro is INFURIATED

“WHO DID IT HUH?! ILL KILL THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS-”

oh.. you got injured in training? poor babyyy☹️

he’s super sweet and gentle with you.

if anyone tries to go near you though.. he’s super scared they’re gonna accidentally hurt you😭.

so he’s always at the edge of his seat ready to rescue you if needs be.

he gets all of your food, water, clothes, bandages etc.

then the nurses catch him doing it and have to YANK him off of you, once again.

☆ mikasa ackerman

so incredibly caring and concerned 🤍

she was the one who found you on the expedition with a broken leg

she refuses you to the hospital

lets the nurses do their jobs (thank god)

she really wants to be able to help nurse you back to health as well though..

she gives you the next best thing aka massages.

she literally comes in everyday and gives you 3 massages minimum a day

she’ll also sleep in the hospital with you most days.

☆ armin arlert

nothing less than an angel.

for however long you’re in the hospital, he’ll bring you flowers

in there for 3 weeks? new flowers every week.

in there for a week? new flowers every other day.

reads you books every night to help you sleep

sleeps there EVERY single night

always gives good morning and good night kisses

keeps you updated with what’s going on with everyone and training to make sure you don’t miss out.

makes sure to surprise you by bringing your friends there too!! it was a super sweet surprise.

when you’re sleeping, he goes around asking nurses if they need help😖.

☆ jean kirstein

UGH TERRIFIED FOR YOUUU

he has to hype himself up before going to see you in hospital because it just breaks his heart.

but being able to see you, hug you, know that you’re being taken care of makes him feel wayy better.

he’s just happy to see that you’re not too badly injured.

just a sprain from training!

he likes to draw things for you from the outside

or you guys draw together.

yk that cute game where one person draws a squiggle and the other person has to make into a drawing?

yeah, you guys do that. and it’s frickin adorbs😡

☆ connie springer

you went to do some late night training by yourself

and cornelius found you on the ground. in a lot of pain.

he rushed you to the first aid

fastest anyone has EVER seen that man run

you got cleaned up but had to take a break from training until you were better.

definitely tries to make you laugh all the time

even with your injury, he still wants to see you happy and smiling 🤍

☆ sasha braus

aw bless her cotton socks.

your injury wasn’t fatal enough to warrant a hospital stay

but the nurses said to stay home and rest up!

you had to take care of your scar

in her own time, sasha headed over to first aid to ask the nurses how to help you properly☹️.

you literally do not lift a finger!!

she does everything for you, like cleaning it up, wrapping it up etc.

and she’s really good at it and all…

☆ reiner braun

he’s like a scared little boy.

he’ll sit by your side and tell you it’s all okay

but when he’s alone.. HE GETS SO UPSET

sometimes he’ll take ‘bathroom breaks’ just to pull himself together because he hates seeing you in this state :(.

really affects his everyday life

but he hides it well.

BIGG celebrations as soon as you’re out of hospital

is literally like a servant, will get you everything and anything you want.

☆ bertolt hoover

GAH SO ANXIOUS!!

he bakes you cookies for being so brave☹️.

he stays with you all day long until the nurse finally tells him he has to go.

it breaks his heart leaving you but he gets up bright and bloody early to see you in the morning

like i’m talking the second the hospital opens up.

☆ annie leonhart

she’s not nervous,

your injury wasn’t fatal or anything.

she’ll still visit you, of course ;)

she also makes sure to tell you how brave you are

since you are scared of hospitals.

she’ll giggle at your wimpy-ness though.

like you were getting patched up and you were just like trying not to scream

and she was just standing there chuckling at you.

☆ levi ackerman

so so so scared, secretly.

he has lost one too many people

but to lose you? that would completely and utterly BREAK him.

it was a pretty gnarly injury as well…

which was rather terrifying for both you and him

but he’ll keep a cool persona around you.

if he’s unable to visit due to work, he’ll ring the hospital and asks how you are.

he’ll always make time to come see you though, no matter what!!

☆ erwin smith

he hears from his assistant that you’ve been put into hospital

he runs STRAIGHT over and makes sure to comfort you.

he’ll stay till dark when you’re asleep and pay the nurses a visit too

he asks them to take extra good care of you.

if he’s unable to see you, he makes sure to call you up every single day

or at least have SOMEONE come check on you.

☆ hange zoë

GAH!! FREAKS OUT!

hange has seen it all at this rate

but doesn’t seem to heavily affected.

they’ve never really had anyone close to them be extremely injured

they were sooo scared though :(.

it was really sad for everyone to see hange’s energy so low but

they couldn’t help it!!

all they could think about was their poor love in hospital :(.

when they’re around you though, they try to stay positive! and tells you all about their work to keep you both distracted.

[harrysfolklore]

I SAY YES TO ERAS DANCER!YN

i thought about this concept when i watched the eras tour film and you guys encouraged me to write it so here it is ! i enjoyed it a lot so i really hope you like it

ps. the usernames on the comments are taylor’s dancers ! (they’re all so cool i’m obsessed with them)

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by audreydouglass, kamnsaunders and 11,927 others

yourinstagram ready for hotel rooms to be my new home now 🕺

view all 638 comments

audreydouglass ❤️

taylorfan1 she’s one of the eras tour dancers ! make sure to follow them all

gemmastyles Best of lucks !

janravanik Let’s go !

liked by yourinstagram, jefezoff and 3,392,087 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Manila. March, 2023.

view all 72,927 comments

harryfan1 BABYYYY

yourinstagram miss you 🤍

harryfan2 he’s pocket size

alessandro_michele ❤️

harryfan3 i love singlerry

liked by annetwist, janravanik and 17,927 others

yourinstagram 2023 had a blank space, and i wrote @taylorswift in it. let the games begin, the era’s tour !

to the cast… i can’t wait to spend this season of life with you.

🫶✨💜🧣💃🖤🐍💘💋🪩🥂💛⏱️🍾🌃

view all 701 comments

yourbestie Wishing you the best 💘💘

taylorfan1 YOU KILLED IT

nat_b_peterson A true star love you ❤️let’s do this

taylorfan2 my dream job

annetwist ❤️

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 19,927 others

harryupdates HARRY ATTENDED OPENING NIGHT OF THE ERAS TOUR LAST NIGHT !!!!

view all 989 comments

harryfan1 WTF???

harryfan2 NO WAY

taylorfan1 is that really him ??

taylorfan2 HUH?

harryfan3 OMFGGGGG THE IMPLICATIONS

taylorfan3 taylor’s best ex

liked by janravanik, gemmastyles and 20,016 comments

yourinstagram who’s coming to tampa night two?? let the games begin ⚡️

view all 907 comments

taylorfan1 obsessed with them

gracieabrams Best one out there 🕺

taylorfan2 i love the tour dancers soooo much

taylorfan3 MY SHOWWW

gemmastyles I cannot wait to see this show

↳ harryfan1 gemma hello ???

FANS VIA TWITTER

//

liked by taylorfan1, annetwist and 22,827 others

yourinstagram when your boy couldn’t make it to nashville but he’s a hopeless romantic lol

view all 913 comments

taylorfan1 aweee

kamnsaunders That boy is head over heels !

taylorfan2 she has a boyfriend nooo :( she’s my crush

annetwist ❤️

↳ harryfan1 i think she’s a family friend or something, anne and gemma always comment on her posts lol

nat_b_peterson This relationship gives me life

liked by harryfan1, taylorfan1 and 297,894 others

tmz_tv Looks like #TaylorSwift & #HarryStyles really never go out of Style. Tap the link in our bio to see what we know about their recent rekindle!

view all 1,109 comments

harryfan1 huh?

taylorfan1 SOMEBODY CALL TREE PAINE

↳ harryfan1 AND JEFF AZOFF

harryfan2 man i hate tmz with a passion

taylorfan2 y’all is this true?

harryfan3 you guys are better than believing TMZ

taylorfan3 IT COUPLE IS BACK

yourinstagram 😂😂😂😂

↳ janravanik I was about to send you this !

↳ taylorfan4 taylor’s dancers are laughing its FAKE

TMZ ARTICLE

Harry Styles and Taylor Swift have their fans buzzing with excitement at the possibility that they’re back together.. and based on the many sightings of him at Taylor’s concerts.. they may be on to something.

The former flames, who had a brief but memorable relationship back in the day, have sent the internet into a frenzy with speculations about a possible rekindling of their romance.

The' As it Was' singer was seen sneaking into the opening night of Taylor Swift's tour in Arizona, catching the attention of eagle-eyed fans who couldn't believe their luck witnessing both pop icons under one roof. But that wasn't all – Styles continued his tour attendance, popping up at shows in Tampa and Atlanta, adding fuel to the already rumors of a reconnection.

A source has also provided us pictures of Harry pulling up at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts, where Taylor’s show took place this weekend.

Their history is no secret – Taylor Swift and Harry Styles' romance made headlines years ago, with their short-lived yet highly publicized relationship making fans go crazy. From romantic strolls in Central Park to cozying up at award shows, their time together never goes out of style.

But what does Harry's sudden appearance at Taylor's tour mean? Could it just be a friendly show of support between two mega-stars, or is there something more happening behind the scenes?

Fans have taken to social media, discussing every moment of their recent encounters, analyzing their body language, and even coming up with conspiracy theories about secret messages hidden in their song lyrics. Some die-hard 'Haylor' shippers are convinced this could be the moment they've been waiting for – the reunion of one of pop culture's most talked-about couples.

Both Styles and Swift have remained notoriously private about their personal lives, keeping fans guessing and rumors going around. Neither camp has confirmed or denied the speculations, leaving the world to wonder if there's a romantic renaissance on the horizon.

As the 'Eras Tour' continues its journey across the country, all eyes remain glued to the stage, anticipating every possible hint of a rekindled spark between Harry Styles and Taylor Swift.

Stay tuned as we keep our lenses focused and our ears to the ground for any whispers, sightings or signs of this potential Hollywood romance getting back together.

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 10,927 others

harryupdates Harry out in New York today !

view all 196 comments

harryfan1 AHHHHH

harryfan2 who is THAT

harryfan3 waiiiiiit whats going on

harryfan4 chill istg y’all have been sooooo dense lately, first starting rumors of him and taylor getting back together and now freaking out over harry greeting a (probably) a friend

liked by gemmastyles, kamsaunders and 25,927 others

yourinstagram i really do 🫶🏻 new york

📸by my, my, my, my, my, loverrrr 💘

view all 940 comments

taylorfan1 she’s so prettyyyyy

audreydouglass You both give me life 🥹

janravanik Quoting the boss 🤩

gemmastyles I can’t wait to see you rock the stage tonight

↳ harryfan1 GEMMA IS GOING TO THE ERAS TOUR ???

taylorfan2 eras tour dancers give me life

liked by harryfan1, harryfan3 and 15,928 others

harryupdates Harry and Gemma at The Eras Tour in MetLife Stadium tonight !

view all 196 comments

harryfan1 WTF?????????

harryfan2 i’m officially believing the rumors that him and taylor at back together

taylorfan1 WE?

harryfan3 what the actually fuck is going on this is the FOURTH show he attends and now with his family ?? lord i’m coming up

liked by annetwist, yourinstagram and 866,297 others

gemmastyles I went to The Eras Tour in my Reputation era I guess ✨🖤🐍

view all 21,036 comments

harryfan1 SLAAAY

annetwist My turn now ! ❤️

↳ harryfan2 ANNE IS GOING TO THE ERAS TOUR ??? wtf is going on

yourinstagram love you so much, so happy you could make it 🥹💘

↳ harryfan3 see i’ve been saying that she must be a family friend

harryfan4 rumors of haylor being a thing again lowkey don’t sound too crazy

liked by harrystyles, yourinstagram and 803,827 others

annetwist The Eras Tour with my girl @gemmastyles 👯‍♀️ watching the amazing @yourinstagram rock the stage. Of course the star of the show @taylorswift gave her all and blew us away ! Amazing night ❤️🎶

view all 23,972 comments

harryfan1 OMG

gemmastyles Oh I love being a woman 💘

↳ harryfan2 she gets it

yourinstagram love you both so much ! thanks for coming 🤍

↳ harryfan3 she must be gemma’s bff or smth

taylorfan1 HAYLOR IS SO ALIVE

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 17,029 others

harryupdates Harry just followed this account on Instagram !

view all 201 comments

harryfan1 oh????

harryfan2 he has attended so many eras tour shows he befriended the cast

harryfan3 she also interacts with gemma a lot 👀

harryfan4 how crazy would it be if he’s dating her and not back with taylor like everyone thinks lol

↳ taylorfan1 don’t be delusional

liked by harryfan1, taylorfan1 and 22,017 others

harryupdates HARRY BACKSTAGE AT THE ERAS TOUR IN DENVER !!!

view all 206 comments

harryfan1 STOOOP

harryfan2 i was against the rumors of haylor rekindling but this is so 😭

taylorfan1 if i had a nickel for every time harry has attended the eras tour i’d have more than 5 nickels which is INSANE

harryfan3 the rumors are true i guess

TWITTER

//

liked by gemmastyles, kamnsaunders and 27,018 others

yourinstagram the way fans figure things out never ceases to amaze me 😛 #randomthougts

view all 932 comments

harryfan1 is this who we think harry is dating?

tamiyaxlewis 😂😂 Love youuuu

taylorfan1 i want to know the eras tour inside tea

gemmastyles Welcome to my life

harryfan2 blink if you’re dating harry

harryfan3 she’s so pretty tho

liked by harryfan1, taylorfan2 and 10,726 others

haylortea TAYLOR JUST ANNOUNCED 1989 TV WITH HARRY IN THE AUDIENCE !!! STYLE FT HARRY IS COMING

view all 201 comments

harryfan1 OMFGGG

harryfan2 WAS HARRY REALLY THERE ??

↳ taylorfan1 yes there’s pictures around twitter !

taylorfan2 i think a collab with harry is possible since it’s been denied that they’re back together !

harryfan3 THE IMPLICATIONS !

HARRY VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES

//

liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 96,827 others

yourinstagram here’s the reason he attended so many shows 🥹💘 (if you know you know)

view all 5,927 comments

harryfan1 HUH?

kamnsaunders FINALLY !!!

harryfan2 if i can’t see his face it’s not real

annetwist Love, love ❤️

taylorfan1 this is hilarious LMAO y’all really thought it was all about haylor

harryfan3 WHY AM I CRYING THIS IS THE SOFTEST HARD LAUNCH EVER

harrystyles ❤️

↳ harryfan1 STOP

↳ harryfan3 I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES

liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 102,927 others

yourinstagram Taylor Swift: Era’s Tour World Premiere 🫶🏻✨🥹 To Taylor and the cast: I just love y’all. That’s it.

view all 5,207 comments

harryfan1 okay she’s stunning

audreydouglass She’s beauty and she’s grace… love you twin 🥰

harryfan2 DID HARRY ATTEND THE PREMIERE?

↳ harryfan3 i don’t think so there’s no pics

annetwist Congratulations ❤️

harryfan4 i’ve lived 293728 lives since the first time harry was spotted at the eras tour

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 12,028 others

harryupdates HARRY AT THE ERAS TOUR FILM PREMIERE !!

view all 1,002 comments

harryfan1 AHHHh

harryfan2 HE LOOKS SO BABY

harryfan3 my heart he gave yn her time to shine

harryfan4 I LOVE THIS COUPLE !! who would’ve thought harry would be dating one of the era’s tour dancers

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin n @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay y @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia a @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry @white-wolf-buckaroo

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

[flowhence]

hi! could you write a Johanna x fem!reader fic where the reader is a tribute from district 11? She won the 69th games when she was 12-14, and during her game, she became very close friends with an older tribute from District 5 (they were like Rue and Katniss). the older tribute died for reader.

Johanna and reader know each other from the few years where they had been dragged to the capitol to "mentor" for the games. they became very close.

when reader was also reaped for the quarter quell, johanna was there to comfort her as soon as she could.

johanna and reader protect each other in the arena, and reader gets captured by the capitol instead of johanna.

afraid to love you - j.m.

pairings: johanna mason x reader (romantic), platonic katniss everdeen x reader, platonic finnick odair x reader, platonic peeta mellark x reader

summary: Johanna Mason loved you, she loved how passionate you are and how kind and caring you are. When you got dragged to the capital to mentor the tributes a few times, at first you hated Johanna, but then you grew to love her. What happens when in the quarter quell of the 75th hunger games you’re captured by the capital and Johanna is left alone in District 13?

a/n: i changed some things ^^

warnings: graphic volence, graphic torture, angst, some fluff

You hated this, hated the unknown of it all. A part of you was glad that it had been you and not Johanna. At least you were semi liked by the capital so they would not kill you at least. You sighed, you’ve been unable to close your eyes ever since you woke up here, in this disgustingly bright white room.

“Are you Y/N L/N?” A man in a white coat and a badge asked, walking into the room with an air of confidence. You scowled at the man. You didn’t answer his question.

“It would be better for you to answer my questions. Are you Y/N L/N?” He repeated the previous question. You grit your teeth, still not saying a word.

“Alright then, you’ll learn to talk eventually.” He said, his hand hovering over the plethora of tools in front of him. You looked at him in silent horror, a plea in your eyes but nonetheless that did not stop the man from picking up tweezers and placing them under your first finger nail.

CRACK!

You closed your eyes tightly, biting your lip to stifle your scream. The man chuckled at you. Muttering something about how you’ll start screaming soon.

He went to your other finger nail. Ripping the nail out of its nailbed, you groaned but the scream was muffled back down your throat again.

You started to lose track of time, the hours seemingly endless and the torture nonstop. He’d ask the same questions, while taking each nail he could.

“Are you Y/N L/N?”

“Where are the rebels hiding?”

“Were you in on the plan?”

“Who is the leader of the rebels?”

Over and over and over again.

You don’t know when you started screaming or when your voice became hoarse. The lights beginning to truly make your eyes hurt.

The man decided eventually to move onto another type of torture. He put a rag over your head, and then came the water.

You weren’t expecting this, you weren’t expecting to be waterboarded. The water seems to be endless, soaking into your nostrils, your mouth, and your eyes. You gagged, choking on the water and coughing but having no break with it. Water getting into your lungs causing your chest to heave painfully.

You don’t know when you passed out or if you ever did. Time became nothing more than torturous. Tick tock, the clock would go, you supposed the clock is there to make you feel insane.

When that wasn’t enough they’d inject something into your veins, it made you scream and writhe in your bounds. It felt like your bones were on fire, like your stomach acid is burning through your fat, skin, and muscle.

Sometimes you would get a hallucinogen. You’d see Johanna, but it wasn’t her. She’d come to save you, hold you, and then you would wake crying.

“Oh my god…” You heard her, you heard Johanna. Unsure if this is just a trick or hallucination you cracked your eyelids open. When did you get here? It wasn’t as bright, it definitely was not the capital.

You wriggled a bit, bringing your hand to your face. You gazed unsurely at your own hand, unsure if this is real. Your eyes shifted to Johanna’s figure, you didn’t feel anything, not relief, not happiness. You’ve been through this too many times to get hopeful only to have everything ripped away the next second.

“You’re not real. You’re not real, you’re not real, you’re not real.” You chanted over and over again, shaking your head you refused to believe this was real. Too many times you had the hope, had Johanna, ripped away from your grasp.

“Dove?” You shook your head again, tears stinging at your eyes.

“It’s me, I.. I’m real. I swear.” This was different, the hallucinations never demanded that they were real. A spark of hope fired into your chest.

“Jo?” You replied tearfully, hopefully even. You sounded so unsure that it broke Johanna’s heart. You then spotted Katniss and Finnick behind Johanna. A sob broke through your pale cracked lips.

You were muttering incomprehensible words to yourself, rocking back and forth.

“It’s me, they can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.” Johanna murmured, stepping to your bedside. You looked up, tears streaming down your cheeks, raw emotion in your eyes. You tentatively reached out to her, to Johanna.

Johanna took the hand that had shakenly been moving towards her. She brought your hand to her lips kissing it.

“This is real…” You muttered in disbelief. Jo finally let a few tears fall.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry… I tried to get you three back sooner. I am so sorry.” Katniss said, her voice cracking. You looked up at the woman, a woman so brave for someone who’s just a kid.

“It’s ok. They didn’t break me.” You said, albeit emotionally but you’re not hundred percent ok right not and that’s fine.

The five of you huddled into a hug. Peeta somehow snuck into the hug as well. and you all laughed, you were all together again. You might never be the same but at least you were alive and had everything you needed.

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 35

A/N: The center photo is indicative of the reader's gown only. Not her appearance which isn't defined.

Part 35: Dance with the Devil

Series Masterlist

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, intimidation, dark seduction. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

"You are almost ready," Yelena said with a smile, just after the stylists left. "Now the jewelry."

You paused, looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your gown was an exclusive creation by a top designer, a beautiful sleeveless, a-line creation in layers of tulle, sequins, and matte satin. Shades of pale blue and gold transformed you, enhanced by the ornate way your hair was done, the subtelty of your carefully applied makeup. Beneath you wore the most elegant little gold heels that were surprising comfortable despite their minimal style. The stockings were sheer, hugging your upper thighs just below the skimpy ice-blue panties you wore.

The mention of jewelry brought up an unhappy memory and you knew Yelena recalled it too when your gaze met hers. How your husband's ex-mistress smuggled her necklace in for you to wear on another special occasion had never been solved.Had it been Neal? Hansen? A reminder from the not-too-distant past that your enemies could reach you at any time. A reminder to be vigilant. 

"What jewelry?" you asked carefully.

Yelena smiled. "I picked it up myself," she told you, lifting a delicate strand of diamonds set in gold from a black velvet box on the bed. 

When she draped it around your throat, you smiled at the way it completed your look. There were matching earrings, diamond studs each with a teardrop diamond dangling and catching the light. The set was exquisite. 

"Harry Winston," your friend told you, admiring how they looked on you.

"Nice of them to loan these for the ball," you told her, grateful you got to wear them. 

Yelena reached for the golden mask on the bed, holding it to you. "No loan. Steve bought them."

What?

"These must have cost a fortune," you mused. They probably cost more than everything else you owned combined. "Glad you're going with us. I'd hate to get mugged for these."

Yelena grinned. "Security is going to be tight already with so many important people there. The mayor will be there. One of the state senators."

You scoffed. "Why am I going? I'm no one special."

"But you are," Yelena told you. 'The fact that everyone wants you has been a powerful motivator in this game of chess. Your husband is completely devoted to you. Barnes would love to get his hands on you."

"Barnes would ring my neck the first chance he got," you pointed out.

Yelena's expression was difficult to read. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Hansen would for sure kill me," you said, putting your mask in place carefully. The soft mask of golden sequins fit over your eyes. 

Yelena's gaze dropped at the mention of the name and you were ashamed. You needed to work harder not to bring that up to her. And you needed a subject change. Fast.

"Who's going to be here with Nat tonight?" You weren't surprised Nat didn't want to go. She'd been through so much between the horrific end of her abusive marriage and all trauma of years being left to the sadistic nature of Banner. You wanted to make sure she was well looked after while you and Steve were gone.

"Clint is staying here of course," Yelena said quietly. "Dyson will be here too. He's arranged for extra security for the house tonight."

You nodded your approval. "What about Scott?"

"He's coming with us," Yelena explained. 

You smiled. Scott going had little to do with keeping you and Steve safe and everything to do with spending time with Yelena. You were pretty sure Yelena was aware of Scott's infatuation with her. Would she ever return his affections? You didn't know. Considering her tragic history, you weren't sure she could feel the same way towards him or anyone. But in the time you'd known Scott, you learned he was a good man who always had your back and never once questioned your authority. You trusted him with your life. You trusted him with Yelena too.

But would she ever give him - or anyone - a chance after all she'd been through?

You blew out an exhale, preparing yourself for the night ahead. "I guess we should let Steve know I'm ready."

"He knows," a deep voice caught you and Yelena both off guard. 

Your husband strolled into the bedroom and Yelena stepped back to allow him a clear path to you. He looked breathtakingly handsome in the classic black tuxedo he wore, tailored perfectly to fit his tall, broad-shouldered physique. His tawny hair was perfectly styled, diamond cufflinks winking in the light. His tie was shades of gold and blue to match your gown, a subtle touch but one you appreciated.

Steve moved to stand behind you in the mirror of your vanity, bending to fit his handsome face in the reflection with yours. 

"You look so beautiful," he said with something like reverence in his voice. "I can't wait to show you off."

"I'll be downstairs," Yelena said, making her way out to give you some privacy. "We worked very hard on her, boss. Don't mess her up."

Steve smiled at what he took as a playful warning, his large hands smoothing over your bare shoulders. Slowly, you removed the mask, placing it in your lap with your hands. His watchful gaze didn't miss the slight tremble of their movements.

"Everything is going to be fine," he explained. "I've been to this event before. All the rich, politic elite of Boston come out to dance and drink the night away and wallow in excess. It's probably Tony's favorite night of the year."

You could see it. And you were excited to go to the annual masquerade ball, as Steve's wife and not his trophy, and to enjoy a fabulous night on the town. You felt like Cinderella, going to the ball in the gown that truly looked as if magic had created it.

But you couldn't fight back an impending sense of dread. It had been so quiet in the weeks of your recovery and Steve's. Life went on. You were included in all the family's business meetings. The family business had recovered and was branching out, deals with three of the other four families made things even better. 

Not that you agreed with all of it. You weren't crazy about the loan sharking or protection deals the family made. The casinos and restaurants didn't bother you as much. And at least the family wasn't making any money off drugs or trafficking. Some of the stories about the business and how other families operated you heard now were just horrific. You made up your mind early that no matter what, you'd never allow the family to make money off the misfortunes of women and children. Never.

It had been very quiet where the Barnes family was concerned. Too quiet.

"I'll  be the envy of every man there tonight," he murmured, pressing a kiss into your neck. The soft brush of his beard made you shiver. A sensual smiled curved Steve's lips. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. You trusted your husband. You were going to do your best to have a wonderful night, just like he intended.

And still that little kernel of dread lingered.

You felt like you were in an old Hollywood movie to walk down the staircase on your husband's arm with the gown flowing softly with your movements. Honestly, you were grateful for Steve's help in keeping you balanced, relieved when you made it to the bottom of the stairs.

Dyson, Yelena, Scott, Clint and Nat were a small crowd, watching in admiration as you approached. Nat's smile was all you needed to feel like a princess. Her lovely green eyes lit up as her gaze swept over you. 

"You look perfect," she exclaimed, carefully hugging you. "I knew that gown was the one."

Nat had been the one to find it when the two of you went out shopping for it. And you were all too happy to give her the credit. You knew very little about fashion. You would learn. Until you did, it was nice to have the advice of someone who already understood it.

As Nat stepped back, you forced yourself to smile. She still looked so small, so frail. She had yet to gain weight and regain her amazing figure. Your sister-in-law seemed fragile, even with the protection and love of the man she'd always wanted. Even with the full support and love of her brother. It worried you.

Dyson looked worried too, but as you did, he put on a quick smile. "You two had best get going. The line at dropoff takes forever."

"True enough," Steve said, nodding to Yelena and Scott.

You stopped to hug Dyson. "Keep her safe for me," you whispered.

"You know I will," he muttered.

Steve whisked you away to the sleek black limousine waiting in the driveway. Its glossy, jet-black exterior reflected the fading sunlight with a mirror-like finish. The long, streamlined body stretched gracefully, its tinted windows offering privacy and adding to its air of mystery. Scott climbed in behind the wheel and Yelena rode shotgun as Steve got you into the back seat, helping you keep your gown away from the doors. Once you were settled, you studied your husband. Something was missing.

"Did you bring a mask?" you asked him. 

Steve smiled, pulling a small black mass from inside his tuxedo coat. No sequins, just a matte black mask he could wear. But he wasn't interested in the mask as he fidgeted with it. He was too busy staring at you.

"Are you excited?" he asked.

You couldn't help the smile the question brought on. "Yes."

Steve looked pleased. "As time goes on and things settle down, we'll get out more. Do more things like this. You look like a princess tonight."

Tears pricked at the backs of your eyes at his heartfelt words. He meant them. He was taking you out to a society function, dressed you up like you were going to the fucking Oscars. A night out like nothing you'd ever experienced before. You'd been excited since he told you he got the tickets a few weeks ago.

"There are going to be a lot of people there, sweetheart," Steve explained quietly. "I'm sure Belova went over everything with you. But I need you to listen. You are going to be with me at all times. If you're not with me, you'll be with Belova and Lang. No wandering off to talk to people or sightsee. Okay?"

You nodded. Yelena had covered the plans thoroughly while she helped you get ready for the evening. 

"If I have to talk business for a moment, Belova will be with you. You have to go to the ladies' room, Belova will be with you," he continued. "Take it easy on the drinks. You're not used to alcohol and I need you vigilant tonight. We're going to have a wonderful time but..."

"I understand," you told him. "Besides, I don't want to miss any part of tonight because I'm drinking. It's my first masquerade ball. I'd like to enjoy every minute of it."

The smile Steve flashed you had your heart fluttering in your chest.

"There will be dancing, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he told you. 

"You'll dance with me?" Would Steve dance with you to a beautiful ballad or classic song?

Reaching over, he tipped up your chin with his fingers, his touch careful. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you when you smile at me like that. I love you."

"I love you, too." 

His lips were a teasing brush against your own but in seconds it deepened, filled with longing and need. 

The sharp wrap on the dark glass that separated the two of you in the back seat of the limo from Scott and Yelena up front scared you. Then the glass slid down just a couple of inches. 

"Later," Yelena admonished. "I worked too hard on her for this party, boss."

You froze thinking that was going to piss your husband off but he laughed. "Okay, sorry," he called back to her.

It made you happy. Ever since everything happened that day between your family and Barnes', your husband and your best friend got along a lot better. Steve was kinder to her, treated her with the same respect as he would any of the men in his employ. That being the case, Yelena felt comfortable enough to tease him about things like tonight. She worked hard on carefully picking her moments with him to tease. She did even better at being thoughtful when offering criticism or advice. The fact that they were getting along better just made your life easier.

"That's supposed to be privacy glass," he said, still grinning.

"Or she's just that good at her job." Honestly, she was.

"After the ball," Steve said once the privacy glass has slid back up, "I want you out of that dress. Especially if you want to keep it."

The sly warning had you grinning. "I would like to keep it. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen."

"Noted," your husband said. "I'll do my best to contain myself until you get the gown to safety."

The heated looks he cut you the entire way into Boston made you wonder if he'd be able to. You couldn't wait to find out.

Once you reached the venue, you saw there was indeed an endless line of limos in the que leading up to the door. It moved surprisingly fast. Within ten minutes, Scott pulled up to the door and Yelena darted out to open the door for you. Before you could reach for her hand, Steve was there, helping you out of the back of the car with ease and ushering you up the carpeted stairs with Yelena behind you. The decorations and festive lighting dazzled you as you moved along on Steve's arm. The way the soft light reflected off the gown you wore made you feel like you were in a fairytale. 

Steve stopped and greeted more than a few gentlemen on the way into the venue. One man you recognized as a senator and the easy way the two men spoke had you curious. Did the senator know who Steve was? Were they old friends? For a moment, the two of them seemed to forget all going on around them. Just as quickly, the senator's gaze fell on you and the handsome older man smiled. 

"Is this your new bride?" the senator asked.

"She is," Steve replied, introducing you with obvious pride. You meant to shake the man's hand. He kissed the back of yours in an old fashioned gesture. You found him completely charming. 

"Have you been to the masquerade before?" the senator asked.

You shook your head. "This is my first one."

The man smiled. "I hope you enjoy tonight. If I get the chance, I'll introduce you to my wife. It's one of her favorite nights of the year."

"I'd like that," you told him. "It was nice to meet you."

Was it your imagination that Steve watched you with such wonder? Once his conversation with the senator ended, he led you further into the venue where the main ballroom was all prepared, looking like a view from a movie set. 

Clusters of elegant tables arranged in a wide horseshoe shape framed the dance floor, each adorned with lavish centerpieces sparkling beneath the soft glow of the majestic chandelier overhead. The chandelier's light cascaded down like a shimmering waterfall, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, making every surface gleam. A full bar stood ready, offering the finest drinks, while an orchestra played a symphony of enchanting melodies, weaving through the air like a spell. The room was a sea of Boston's political powerhouses, movie stars, and the wealthy elite, all dressed in exquisite gowns and tailored suits, their masks concealing only their identities—not their status. As you paused to take it all in, your husband's familiar warmth pressed against your back, grounding you in the moment as the dazzling scene unfolded before your eyes.

"What do you think?" Steve's whisper at your ear made you shiver.

"I love this," you told him with enthusiasm. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

"You don't have to thank me." Your husband took your hand, looking like a tawny-haired prince in his tuxedo and black mask, and led you to the dance floor. Your surprise must have shown on your face because he laughed as he swept you into his arms at the edge of the dancing crowd and led you in an easy waltz.

Steve was a wonderful dancer much to your surprise. He led you with an easy grace that you delighted in and found easy to keep up with given your own love of dance. You knew you had to be staring at him but he kept you close, enjoying your surprise.

"When did you learn to dance like this?" you had to ask after he twirled you around gracefully. 

"It's not so hard," he said, his attention solely on you. "Not nearly as hard as your type of dancing."

Ballet was discipline but dancing a perfect waltz wasn't easy either. You were impressed. 

"Is this why you got us all dressed up?" you teased. "So you could show off your dancing skills?"

Steve chuckled. "Is there something wrong with wanting to have a magical night with your wife?"

You were delighted. But you knew it wasn't the only reason Steve brought you here. And now that you were involved in the family business, you weren't offended by the other reason the two of you were there.

Not long before he married you, Steve had acquired a prized property on the outskirts of Boston. He'd been so involved with marrying you and taking over the families he'd neglected it for a time. Now his attention was back on it, plans were being made to develop it. Together, you'd decided on an exclusive resort with fine dining, glitzy nightclubs, and a casino for the wealthy. It was a massive investment and to make it work, certain permits would need to be acquired. The senator and a few key businessmen there tonight could make or break the project that would expand your family's wealth. 

It was a very important night for Steve.

He'd be spending some time talking to these gentlemen tonight which is why Yelena and Scott were there, to keep you safe. You really didn't mind. You felt like Cinderella at the ball in the beautiful gown that flowed and captured the light with your movements as you danced with your husband among the wealthy citizens of the city. As the two of you moved through the dance, you caught a glimpse of Yelena, dressed in her dark suit and standing next to Scott, blending into the background. Your best friend's gaze never left you. Scott's never left her. You smiled, enjoying the beauty of the moment, dancing with your husband at your very first masquerade ball.

When the dance came to an end, it took you a moment to realize it. One of the musicians announced the band would take a short break and be back in just a few minutes. Steve's hand at your lower back urged you to turn. The senator making his way towards you with a lovely older lady at his side. 

The senator's wife was polished from head to toe. Her gown was bright pink layers of satin that matched her lipstick. Otherwise her white hair and face gave her a cold countenance, like she was an ice queen dressed for her best guess at spring. Her eyes were dark, small and mean as her gaze swept over you. The senator assured you that you and his wife would have plenty to talk about. As the woman stood there studying you with pursed lips, you decided talking to her probably wasn't the best idea.

Steve's gaze met yours and he nodded as he let the senator lead him away, leaving you with the judgy woman before you.

"This must be a special night for you," she said tartly.

Straightening your spine, you smiled. "Why is that?"

The woman's white brows rose slightly but a smile played about her lips. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me?" You kept your smile in place.

"My father was a direct descendent from The Mayflower," she informed you. "We're practically royalty here. We built our fortune through hard work and our good name. You, on the other hand, come from poverty and crime. You father crawled out the shadows and robbed good people blind. That's why you have the money to play dress up and act like you belong here. We all know your husband fancies himself some sort of underworld prince. But he doesn't belong here either."

Oh, no, she didn't just put you and your husband down. Lifting your chin, you looked her in the eye.

"Your ancestors came over on a ship over four hundred years ago and nobody cares anymore," you told her. "You can pretend to be royalty, and tell yourself you made your money working hard and protecting your good name. But the sad truth is, your family made your money the same way mine did. In fact, your family probably paid mine to keep from getting your hands dirty or to protect your interests. And my husband is the king of Boston's underworld and so was my father before him. You may be someone in society right now, but your husband is currently anelected official. If you were smart, you'd spending a little more time being respectful."

Gracefully as you could manage, you turned your back to the rude woman and marched off. Yeah, maybe you hurt your husband's chances of getting the permits you needed for the project development once she talked to her husband. But you weren't about to put up with someone like that. 

You looked all around for Yelena. You were dying to tell her about the conversation you'd just had. But you weren't watching where you were going and you collided with someone hard.

And whoever he was, he caught you in his arms, sweeping you out onto the dance floor as another waltz began. He was as tall as your husband and the scent of his expensive cologne was familiar. You realized who held you a beat before he spoke, a low purr by your ear.

"Did you miss me, beautiful?"

Barnes.

Easing back, you glanced up at your uninvited dancing partner, wearing an aura of allure and danger with ease. Barnes' chiseled jawline was partially obscured by the intricately designed black mask he wore, adorned with silver accents catching the light. Those steely-blue eyes were shadowed but still piercing, glinting with a cold intensity as his gaze met yours.

His tuxedo was entirely black and tailored to perfection, hugging his muscular frame effortlessly. His attire seemed to absorb the light, creating a sense that he came from the shadows. Even his shirt was dark onyx, subtle embroidery only revealing itself when he moved. And he felt strong as he held you, solid and healed.

Stop staring at the man and answer.

"I haven't thought about you at all," you told him, trying to sound nonchalant but not quite hitting that note.

As much as you hated to admit it, Barnes was undeniably handsome. From the way his hair was slicked back with precision to the confident smirk curling his lips, the man was... magnetic. But there was a sinister edge beneath the polished surface. There always had been. Barnes' posture was too poised, his movements too calculated. Every inch of him whispered danger, a wolf in the presence of unsuspecting lambs.

Pulling you close to him, Barnes chuckled. "I don't believe that. I think you I live rent free in that beautiful head of yours."

"Maybe," you said, feeling his smile widen. "I do think about how I wished we'd used more poison."

Now he laughed, a deep rich sound. "I don't doubt that."

"What do you want?" You looked anywhere but at him. Still, you were so focused on the predator that held you, you weren't really seeing your surroundings. The music, the lights, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

"What do you think I want?" Barnes asked.

As Barnes swept you around the floor, your mind scrambled for a comeback. "Your hands around my throat," you said, going with honesty. "And me dead?"

Leaning in, he ran his nose gently up the column of your neck, making you shiver. "Oh, I did. I really did. And I could have made that happen."

You were dangerously close to having him think he had the upper hand here. "No, you couldn't."

Again, he chuckled. "You've got it all figured out, don't you?" Releasing you only long enough to spin you in the dance, he pulled you back into him tightly. "You made peace with your husband. You're now involved in the family business. I would call Steve a pussy for even thinking about that if it were any other woman. But you're not just any woman. But you're special."

You missed a step in your alarm. How the hell did Barnes know you were in the all the family business meetings now? And that you and Steve had made peace? The questions triggered your anxiety, reminding you of the days early in your marriage when Neal had been Barnes' rat and you were always looking over your shoulder. Was someone else talking to Barnes?

"A long time ago, your mother seduced my father," Barnes whispered. "She tore my family apart. And when you came along and you weren't the poor disfigured little girl we were told you were, I assumed you were a little whore like your mother. You look almost exactly like her. Has anyone told you that?"

You didn't answer, trying hard to put a little space between the two of you. Where was Steve? It wouldn't be too conspicuous if he broke in on the dance. If Yelena or Scott came to save you, it could create a scene and unwanted attention. 

"I even thought maybe, horrible thought I know," Barnes went on, "that you might be my half-sister. But it didn't take me long to realize that wasn't true either. Besides, that devious little mind in there, hidden behind all that beauty? You didn't get that from your mother. Or my father."

"What's it to you?" you snapped at him, trying to pull off pissed even though you held anger and fear in equal measure. "I'm Steve's wife. He's your boss. You'd do well to remember that."

Barnes was unfazed. "You're Steve's wife. For now. But he can't handle you." Barnes leaned closer, his gaze locking with yours. "You should belong to someone stronger."

Now you really were getting pissed. "I don't need you or any man, including my husband, to tell me who I am and what I should be doing," you said.

"You may be right," he purred. "But it's that attitude, that fire. It got me thinking... I had the wrong idea about you from the beginning. Yeah, all the bitterness from the past clouded my judgment for a while. I wanted you dead and buried next to your loser husband." When you tried to pull free of him, he tightened his grip. His grin widened. "Now I realize you're exactly what I need."

"For what?" You didn't know how much of your glare he got from behind your mask.

"To finally take my rightful place," he said as if it were gospel. "The position occupied by your current husband."

Current husband? Who the fuck did he think he was?

"Our children will be kings and queens," Barnes went on. "That dynasty would rule Boston for decades."

"My children with Steve will rule Boston," you told him angrily. "And when we're done with you, no one will even remember the Barnes family."

"One day," he said with meaning, leaning closer, "you'll be mine."

Despite yourself, you shivered. Barnes caught it.

"You want me too," he whispered. "I'll make you admit it."

As the song neared its end, you were prepared to do whatever you had to do to get away from the bastard, the man who'd done so much damage to your family. As the last strains of the symphony ended, Barnes released you to bow. You did curtsy to him, then you straightened.

"I will never be yours." You meant it with every fibre of your being. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find my husband."

Barnes' grin didn't fade. "Better find a way to keep him safe."

You spun on your heel, marching off the dance floor. You needed air, and a moment to calm down. You were blinking back tears, you were that angry. You felt someone on your heels as you made you way out of the main event room out ornate glass doors left open. It was chilly out there but you welcomed it, fighting back anger.

"Are you okay?" Yelena asked, her hand at your back as you gripped the railing and hung on. 

"No, I'm not... o-fucking-kay," you said, trying to regain your composure. "He came out of nowhere."

"He did," Yelena said. "He got to you so quickly after you talked to the senator's wife."

"Where's Steve?" you asked.

"Talking very intently to the senator," she replied. "It appears to be going well."

You had to wonder if that would still be true once the senator's wife caught a moment to tell her husband and your little "talk."

But you had bigger problems right now. Barnes.

"Barnes is all healed up," you told her. Looking beyond her, you saw Scott by the entranceway back into the ball. "And he's got big plans."

"He wants you," Yelena said it. "That much was obvious. It gives me some idea of his plans."

You nodded. "Don't say anything to Steve or Scott right now. I just want to find a glass of champagne to take the edge off and get through the rest of the ball."

With any luck, you could maybe enjoy one more magical dance with Steve before the evening ended.

You couldn't, however, complain. You wanted to be in on the family business and this was part of it. Barnes, unfortunately, was also part of it.  And he'd just announced his intentions to you and you realized now it was the pit that had been in your stomach the entire evening. 

Barnes would keep tearing your life apart until he was stopped. Somehow between his drastic plans and the animosity between you and your husband, you'd found your way to a happy marriage. A path to be queen in this world. And you'd be damned if you let Barnes threaten that future.

"You're going to tell Steve, right?" 

"I am." You didn't miss the concern in Yelena's voice. "I'm telling all of you. But not here."

Nodding her agreement, Yelena watched as you straightened, steeled yourself to return to the event. 

"Let's find you a glass of champagne, boss," she said with a wink.

Boss? Now that put the smile back on your face. 

@valsworldofcreativity @21stcenturywitchcraft @coconutqueen21 @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @sadlittlecountess @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebstan @imanuglywombat @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @maxwelllee2020 @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldier21-blog @shygirl-00 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellev @vitamingummies @what-is-your-plan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @gotnofucks @eralen @kawairinrin @bluemusickid @geminievans1 @daughterofthenight117 @sunmoonandbuckyrecs @jesevans @kandis-mom @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @kmc1989 @curiousandjoyous @marvelouslyme96 @patzammit