#i've forgotten how to tag things i'm sorry

[flowersforbucky]

down bad

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

author's note: i couldn't stop thinking about bucky being able to use his metal hand as a vibrator and therefore this was born.

warnings/tags: SMUT, oral (female receiving), fingering, bucky being used as a human vibrator, multiple orgasms, language, consumption of alcohol, reader is afab, no use of y/n, slightly possessive bucky, 18+ only

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Natasha mutters through a mouth full of popcorn. “Tyler from the statistics department? Are we talking about the same Tyler from statistics?”

“Nat, for the fourth time, yes. Tyler from statistics. The only Tyler from statistics that I know.” You reach for the bottle of Moscato that the two of you are sharing, pouring yourself some more wine.

“Nuh-uh,” Natasha shakes her head. “I don't believe you. There's no way he could be that bad.” She takes a sip from her own glass of wine. “He's too gorgeous,” she shrugs, turning to face you on the couch. The romantic comedy you had picked out for your bi-monthly movie night plays forgotten in the background.

“Trust me,” you sigh. “I was just as shocked as you are. But I swear on my life, he stuck his tongue in my ear. In my fucking ear, but wouldn't go down on me.” You can tell by the look on her face that Nat is trying her hardest not to laugh.

“He said his dick game is ‘too good to need to eat a girl out’.” You shake your head, cringing at the memory. “Which is also what he said when I merely suggested that he use my vibrator on me instead. He looked like I had kicked his dog.”

“Well?” she asks, a pained expression across her features. “Was it? Too good?”

“I didn't stay to find out,” you admit. “I faked a work emergency and dipped.” A laugh breaks through her pursed lips.

“I'm sorry–” she says, although her face says otherwise. “I shouldn't laugh. You just have the worst luck with men. Isn't that the third failed hook-up in what? Six months?”

“Don't fucking remind me,” you groan, throwing your head back on the couch and staring up at the living room ceiling. “I think I've lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to me by another person again.”

Nat opens her mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when you both notice voices approaching from the hallway.

Sam and Bucky enter the room a moment later, both dressed uncharacteristically nice. You suddenly feel the desire to conceal yourself with the fleece throw blanket laying across your lap. You and Nat usually plan your movie nights for when the tower is relatively empty, so you're just wearing a pair of old sweatpants and a tank top. Bare-faced and hair unstyled, the fact that Bucky's gaze is locked on you as the two of them approach where you and Nat are lounging doesn't help. He's not smiling - but there's a look on his face that you don't quite understand. The ghost of a smirk on his lips and a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

It's a look that makes you nervous - in addition to already feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach at how fucking good he looks.

“Hey, boys,” Nat greets them cheerily. “Where are the two of you going so dolled up?”

“There's a new nightclub in Brooklyn that a group of SHIELD trainees are going to tonight,” Sam answers. “They invited us and we've got nothing better to do. Figured we'd go check it out, get a few drinks. You ladies want to tag along? Or are you too busy watching - what is this, 10 Things I Hate About You?” He gestures towards the screen.

“Couldn't hurt to get out of the house for a while tonight, right?” Nat looks at you for confirmation, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “Who knows, you might even meet someone,” she adds, nudging you with her elbow.

Bucky lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a cough, which he tries to play off as the latter. You narrow your eyes at him before glancing back to Natasha.

“For sure,” you agree, trying to ignore Bucky's bizarre behavior. “Couldn't hurt. You guys go on, we'll get ready and head there soon. Text us the name of the club?” You direct the last part to Sam in particular.

“You got it,” Sam says as he pulls his cell phone from his coat pocket. He turns to leave when both your and Nat’s phones chime with the club information. “Let's go man, our Uber's here,” he directs at Bucky.

“See you both soon,” he says before turning to follow Sam, though his gaze is still only on one of you.

“I'm gonna go throw on some make-up, curl my hair, and hope I can find something somewhat cute to–” Nat starts as soon as Bucky and Sam have turned back down the hallway.

“Was he acting kind of odd?” you interrupt her in a hushed tone.

“Barnes? Always. I've stopped reading into it too much.”

“Some spy you are,” you mumble. “Meet me back here when you're ready.”

— — — — —

One hour later, you're applying some last minute mascara and lip gloss in the backseat of an Uber on your way to downtown Brooklyn. Natasha sits beside you, ranting about an assignment that Fury has tasked her with and you swear you're trying your hardest to absorb everything she's saying - but your mind keeps going back to the way Bucky was looking at you just an hour ago.

What was with that little smirk? That curious glimmer in his eyes? Had he overheard your conversation with Nat? Had he developed the ability to read minds and knew you were thinking about how fucking hot he looked? Or was that thought simply written all over your face?

You knew you couldn't deny it. Bucky does look exceptionally attractive in his black suit, with his perfectly tousled hair - but you had found him to be ridiculously good looking since you'd first met him. Even in casual, everyday clothes, even in gym shorts and drenched in sweat, even covered in blood after particularly brutal miss–

“You girls have a great evening,” your Uber driver interrupts your train of thought as he comes to a stop in front of your destination.

You really need to get fucking laid. You definitely shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about Bucky. He's your coworker, your teammate, your training partner on many occasions, your friend…

Natasha thanks him and hands him a generous cash tip before climbing out of the car right after you.

“Thanks,” you tell her. “I'll buy our drinks.”

“Don't worry about me,” she tells you with a sly grin as you both flash the bouncer your IDs and enter the club. Despite the night still being relatively young, it's already bustling inside.

“You just focus on meeting people, mingling, maybe hitting it off with a super hot guy and taking him back to your place for some mind-blowing–”

“Super hot guy? Are you talking about me?” Sam’s voice interrupts Nat. You both turn around to see him and Bucky walking towards you, drinks in hand.

There's a roguish smile on Bucky's face as his eyes skim up and down your figure.

“You both look wonderful,” he compliments, but once again, his stare is focused only on you. If Natasha notices, she says nothing.

To be fair, you were impressed with how well you managed to put yourself together with such little notice. You found a black, backless mini dress crammed in the back of your closet that you had forgotten all about after snagging it on clearance forever ago. The form-fitting material hugs you in all the right ways, and paired with your favorite pair of strappy black heels, you're feeling infinitely more confident than you were when Bucky saw you just an hour prior.

“Thanks!” You chirp quickly, averting your gaze from him to take in your surroundings. To your left, the dance floor is lively, though not too overcrowded for your liking. To your right, there's a bar surrounded by tables filled with groups of people conversing - you vaguely recognize a couple of SHIELD agents huddled around one. The entire room is illuminated by the faint blue-green glow of the mood lighting, and the bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards.

Sam and Bucky excuse themselves to go say hey to the group of agents that had invited them, while Nat all but drags you over to the bar. You order a double shot of whiskey and throw it back as quickly as you can.

“I see what you mean now,” Nat whispers to you after downing her shot of tequila. “About Barnes,” she clarifies. “He's been eye-fucking you since we walked through the door.”

If you hadn't already swallowed your liquor, you would have spewed it all over her.

“He has not been eye-fucking me, Nat,” you say in an almost scolding tone.

“I'm just saying,” she throws her hands up. “There’s no way he could possibly be any worse than the last few guys you've gone for. I think you should go for it,” she shrugs.

“It's not that I don't think he'd be good,” you say defensively, forcing yourself to look away from where he and Sam are socializing with the small group of SHIELD agents a few tables away. “I just don't want things to be weird afterwards. We work together nearly every day, and we have a bunch of mutual friends–”

“Suit yourself,” she cuts you off in a tone of voice that very much says if you say so. “Now, are you going to dance with me or not?” She adds as she begins tugging you towards the ever-busying dance floor.

You spend the next half hour dancing with Nat before she's swept away by some black-haired doctor looking type. Good for her, you think as you watch them converse intimately at a small booth on the other side of the room.

Thanks to the liquid courage that runs through your veins, you're okay with the fact that Bucky stands just twenty feet away from you, watching you as you dance among the thick crowd of people.

You've made eye contact with him a few times now - on accident or on purpose, you're not sure at this point. But each time, your eyes lingers on his for a moment longer than the last.

You're mentally daring him to come here, to make a move, to do something other than stand to the sidelines of whatever conversation Sam and the others are engaged in.

The slightest bit of pressure on your waist snaps you back to the now congested dance floor.

You look up to find that the hand on your waist belongs to a tall man with shoulder length, sandy blonde hair. He's conventionally attractive enough, though not who you were hoping would come grab you on the dance floor.

“I'm Shawn,” he introduces himself, loudly enough for you to hear him over the roaring music. You tell him your name, pushing aside the pang of disappointment in your chest.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter to talk, maybe? Let me buy you a drin–”

“There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you,” a voice booms from behind you.

Shawn immediately retracts his hand from your waist, backing up a few inches as Bucky comes into view beside you.

“Must not have been looking too hard, I've been right here this whole time,” you jab back with a smug smile.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Shawn says as he starts to back away.

“No worries, bud,” Bucky says in an overly friendly voice as he moves to stand in front of you, blocking you from Shawn's view entirely.

“Took you long enough,” you tell Bucky once the man is out of ear shot, once again beginning to sway to the music. “Get bored of listening to Sam hype himself up to the newbies?”

He takes a step closer, angling himself behind you. The crowd of people surrounding you edges you closer to him - your bare back brushing against the cool satin fabric of his suit.

“Maybe,” his chest vibrates against your skin when he speaks. He places his hands on either side of your hips - eliciting goosebumps across your skin in a way that no one else has in a long, long time.

“Or maybe I just wanted to save you from wasting your time on another guy who can't make you come.”

Your movements come to an abrupt pause as his words hit you.

He had fucking overheard your conversation with Natasha.

At a loss for words, you turn to face him. There's a shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks this is hilarious and it's obvious.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?”

“Is it really eavesdropping if I have superhuman hearing?” He takes a step closer to you, closing what little distance was separating you. The peaks of your breasts brush against his chest.

“So what happens now that you've saved me from another unsatisfactory hook-up?” You challenge, staring up at him in the neon blue lighting.

You can smell hints of cedarwood and sage from his cologne in your close proximity. It's so delicious that it's dizzying.

“Let me take you somewhere more private than this dance floor and I'll show you.”

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your ability to give me a better experience,” you say, leaning forward so that your face is just inches from his.

He responds by placing his flesh hand on the small of your back and pulling you flush against him. The tips of his fingers continue to dance down the skin of your exposed spine. His vibranium hand comes to cradle your jaw, his metal thumb tracing your bottom lip.

His mouth forms a dark smirk - and then you feel it. It starts soft and subtle and then gradually increases in intensity.

His fucking thumb is vibrating against your lip.

If you hadn't been standing in the middle of a crowded dance floor at a nightclub in downtown Brooklyn, you would have taken that thumb into your mouth and sucked on it right then and there.

“What do you say?” he asks, now tugging on your bottom lip with the pulsing digit. “Are you going to let me take you to the first empty room I can find in this place and make you come?”

“I say show me the way.”

He removes his hand from your face and turns you in the direction of the back of the club. He guides you through the throng of dancers, keeping his hands placed firmly on either side of your waist from behind. His vibranium fingers still hum softly, reminding you of what he says is to come.

Directly past the dance floor, there's a hallway blocked off by a rope with a sign that reads employees only. Taking a quick look around, you see that all of the patrons surrounding you and Bucky are paying you no mind. Bucky unhooks the flimsy rope and the two of you slip down the hallway.

He jiggles the handles of several doors that all turn out to be locked. Not wanting to waste any time or draw any attention to yourselves with picking locks, you continue down the dark corridor until the heavy music from the heart of the club fades to a muted roar.

The very last door opens without a hitch.

Thanks to the pale orange glow of a table lamp on a desk in the corner of the room, you can see that you're in a makeshift office/supply room - a couple of filing cabinets, cleaning supplies, extra glassware, and some sound equipment strewn haphazardly throughout the limited space.

Bucky clicks the lock into place as soon as he closes the door behind him.

You're going to turn around him and tell him that he doesn't have to do this - that as badly as you want this, you don't want to ruin your friendship, that as badly as you want him, he doesn't have anything to prove to you - but his lips are already on yours as soon as you start to open your mouth.

He doesn't take his lips off of yours as he guides you backwards to the rickety wooden desk. The backs of your thighs hit the table and Bucky effortlessly lifts you to sit on the edge, giving him the perfect angle to deepen the kiss - with his tongue exploring your mouth, you're unable to stop yourself from groaning into the kiss.

You fist your fingers into his hair, tugging just hard enough so that he hisses into your mouth. His own hands trail from the sides of your stomach and down your thighs, until he reaches the tail of your dress. You instinctively part your legs for him, as much as the restrictive fabric will allow, and his vibranium hand shoots between your thighs.

He teases you, dragging his index finger along the cloth of your panties that you know you're close to soaking through already. Just as the tip of his finger pauses above your clit, his finger begins emitting the softest vibration.

You break the kiss, breathless as you throw your head back at the sensation. Bucky takes it as an opportunity to attach his lips to the pulse point of your throat, nipping your flesh with his teeth followed by a wet kiss.

He continues with the ministrations through your panties until you're rutting against his hand, needing more. He tugs your underwear to the side and increases the intensity of the vibration before nudging his middle finger past your entrance.

You have to hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself - despite the fact that you're sitting, your body feels like jelly beneath his touch. He adds in his index finger with ease before cupping your pussy in his palm - the heel of his hand pulsating against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cry against his mouth.

“You're so fucking wet for me, you know that?” He coos, thrusting both of his fingers against the spongy-flesh of your walls.

You can feel the vibrations of his hand all the way from your belly to your toes.

You begin grinding your hips to meet the movement of his fingers, fucking yourself against his hand. There's a familiar knot forming in your lower belly as he curls his fingers inside you -

“I want you to think about me and how good I'm making you feel every time you think about letting some fuckin’ nobody touch you,” he says in a low voice next to your ear. “I want you to think about riding my fingers until you come all over my hand.”

His words send you over the edge and you do exactly that - your pussy clenching around his fingers as you ride them through your orgasm. While you're still coming down from the high of your climax, Bucky pulls his metal fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, inserting his index finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slick metal as he brings the vibrations to a halt and then slowly pulls the finger from your mouth.

He picks you up off the edge of the desk and plants you back on the ground - your legs still shaking from how hard you had come.

“Turn around and lean over the desk,” he instructs you, soft but authoritative.

You don't know if it's because of the way he's looking at you or because of how good he's already made you feel, but in that moment, you would've done anything he asked of you.

You bend over the desk, supporting yourself by leaning on your forearms. You peak back over your shoulder to look at Bucky - he hikes your dress up, baring your ass to him.

He lets out an audible groan before he has even pulled your panties down to your ankles.

He kneels on the ground behind you, his face inches away from your cunt. He uses both his flesh and metal hands to spread you open for him, and then his tongue is licking up your center from behind.

God, you hope no one tries to come into this room. The door may be locked but the sounds that someone would hear if they even walked up to the door…

Bucky knows just how to make you writhe above him. He's soft when he's kissing up your folds and unsparing when he's sucking your clit between his lips. His hands hold your ass in a firm grasp that teeters between pleasure and pain.

You grind back against his face and he moans so deeply that you feel the vibration of it up your core. Your eyes roll back into your head as you clutch the sides of the desk to better support yourself.

His enthusiasm alone has you spiraling towards a second climax embarrassingly fast.

“You know,” he murmurs against your sensitive pussy. “When I overheard you say that someone had refused to go down on you, I couldn't believe it. What a fuckin idiot to pass this up.” He gives your ass cheek a firm slap with his flesh hand before diving his face between your legs once more.

It's just seconds before you feel the telltale pressure growing in your lower belly once more. You go limp against the table, Bucky placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to help keep you upright as you ride out your orgasm on his face.

You continue to lay against the desk as you regain control of your breathing. Bucky stands up, tugging your panties up your legs and back around your waist as he does. He then shimmies your dress back down into place so that you're once again looking club-appropriate.

When you turn around to face him, he's wiping your slick from his lower face on the sleeve of his suit, once again displaying a shit-eating grin.

“What was it you said?” He asks in mocking contemplation. “You had lost all hope of ever having an orgasm given to you by another person again?”

“I think you've made your point. You're fantastic at eating pussy and you're a walking human-sex toy.” You roll your eyes at him and start to walk towards the door, but he grabs your wrist in his metal hand, stopping you.

He pulls you back to him and brings his flesh hand to cradle your jawline. He stares at you in a heavy, uncertain silence for a split second before bringing his lips to yours.

It's a kiss that's a bit more hesitant, and a lot less rushed than the one before. You taste yourself all over him, warm and salty. He takes his time getting lost in your mouth - you savor every second and it still comes to and end all too once.

“Couldn't help myself,” he smiles softly when he pulls away. “Just had to kiss you one last time.”

You can't help the way your heart skips a beat when he says the word last.

You clear your throat. “We should probably go find Sam and Natasha,” you say, giving him a small smile in return. “I'm sure they're both wondering where the hell we are.”

You spend the rest of the evening attempting to mingle with friends, but there's one thought that torments you for the remaining duration of the night - just a few hours ago, you doubted that you'd ever have a satisfactory hook-up ever again.

Now, you had to wonder if anyone else could ever make you feel as good as Bucky did.

♡♡♡♡♡

i left this kind of open-ended soooo leave it to your own interpretation what happens next for them 🤭

as always comments/reblogs are infinitely appreciated. thanks for reading!

my masterlist

[smutoperator]

Bad Girl, Good Girl

Bae Suzy/Lee Doona, Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader

Part of Legends series

Tags: all holes filled, alter ego, anal, choking, creampies, crush, domination, (a bit of) facefucking, k-drama references, lookalike, morning sex, older/younger, peeing, rimming, rough sex, (a bit of) shower sex, (lots of) slapping, threesome, toilet dunking

Word count: 7318.

After your first year in university, you had enough of commuting every day to college, deciding to move to a new flat close to it. However, you had forgotten the password the landlord had given you, drawing the suspicion of an older woman who was already living there.

"Who are you?" the woman asks as she's smoking a cigarette and sees you typing the wrong password. "Sorry, I just moved here, but I can't seem to remember the password," you told her. "Here is my rental agreement", you said, giving her proof you weren't some random stranger.

The woman noticed your t-shirt. "The girl in it is so pretty," she said, pointing to Bae Suzy, the very famous idol and actress. "Yes, I love her," you replied. She then picked up the password in her phone and let you in.

"My name is Doona; I've been living here for a while," the woman told you. "Nice to meet you, Doona; I am Won Jun," you replied to her. "Just be aware of the rules of the house; I won't bother you as long as you keep things to yourself," she told you.

You started settling things down in your bedroom but were already plotting to break those rules. Indeed, you were quite a party animal and not very rule-abiding, as you were already texting your college crush to meet you at your new home.

A few hours later, Doona noticed the noise coming from the kitchen in the common area that interrupted her sleep. A few groans, moans, and sloppy sounds that she could hear loud and clear. She slowly got closer, until she was finally able to look at a shocking scene: a long-legged girl on her knees with her perfectly shaped butt already out in the open and sucking your cock.

"Oh my God, Doona, what are you doing?" you asked her. "You really didn't respect my rules," she angrily pointed at you. "I'm sorry," you told her. "Damn it, you guys are all the same, always partying and bringing girls to my house," she said. "That's not your house, Doona," you tried to remind her.

Doona looked at the young girl on her knees. For the first time in a while, she felt jealous. The girl truly looked like a taller, younger version of herself. She made Doona feel old. But the older girl quickly decided to show her who was the one in command.

"You're sucking his cock the wrong way; let me show you how it's done," Doona said to the girl. "By the way, what is your name?" she asked. "Kazuha," the girl answered.

Doona grabbed your cock with just one hand and slowly started going down on it. You could tell she was way more experienced than Kazuha, sucking it without using her teeth, unlike the young girl. Kazuha felt a little embarrassed, just licking your shaft instead when Doona handed her the cock. As she slowly gained confidence to suck your cock the right way, Doona started taking her clothes off already, leaving her legs bare to match with Kazuha.

Doona watched Kazuha go down on your as she caressed your balls and kissed you. Your hands reached on both sides and ran over their naked butts. Kazuha licked your cock while Doona tasted the tip of it, then the young girl stroked and while Doona slowly bobbed her head on it. The double blowjob session kept going, now with Zuha taking your shaft in her mouth as Doona licked your balls.

"Fuck, that's amazing," you said as both girls fought for your attention. They were like an angel and a devil. The young, still learning Kazuha, the good girl. And the very experienced Doona, with her masterful skills, the bad girl. She truly sucked your cock masterfully, getting sloppier as you looked eye to eye on Kazuha and smiled at your crush.

Kazuha tried to imitate the moves of Doona during her turns sucking your cock. The older girl looked at her, and her eyes told Kazuha she was doing it right. Doona licked your balls perfectly while Kazuha kept savoring your pole. "Oh wow," you said as the two hit the right spots.

Doona gave you a no-hands deepthroat that sent shivers down your spine. If Kazuha wasn't exactly the best college student, she was actually learning quite well from the girl that looked like her older self, matching Doona's moves to perfection while trying a few extra ones. 

You truly felt like a boss with two beautiful girls worshipping your cock on their knees. "That's fucking hot," you said as both licked your meat at the same time. The two kept going until Doona whispered a few words in Kazuha's ear.

"Be a bad girl and sit on his cock."

Kazuha obliged and lined up your shaft against her pussy, slowly impaling herself on it as your manhood disappeared inside her and her fit ass dropped down your crotch. Eager to watch, Doona sat on your face and looked right at the youngster as Kazuha slowly started to bounce on your pole, taking some time to adjust as this was the first time you two had sex, all thanks to Doona.

You truly couldn't have dreamed of something better than this. Your crush was riding your cock while Doona's pussy was right in your face for you to lick. A truly amazing experience. You gave a little slap to Kazuha's fit butt, telling her to go faster, while Doona was already creaming your face full of her juices. She lowered her dress, pushing Kazuha to suck her tits and helping the youngster deal with the heat of your cock in her pussy, as she could clearly tell she was struggling with such a big dick.

Kazuha tilted her body and moaned as you reached to rub her asshole. She finally felt safe enough to bounce faster on your cock, and you responded by thrusting upwards towards her tight hole, making the old couch creak. But Kazuha quickly managed to reassure herself, spreading her ass and learning the right way to ride your pole while her pussy creamed all over it.

"How does that feel?" you asked Doona as you kept licking her juicy pussy. "Really good; I guess you're making it up well for breaking the rules," she answered. Doona had such a good slit, with lips that fit perfectly in your mouth. One that you couldn't wait to get inside of too, as you could feel how warm it was.

You grabbed Kazuha's waist and thrust upwards, leading the young girl to let out loud moans. Doona looked at her, as Zuha could tell she was instructing her on how to deal with it. You kept licking Doona's cunt while pounding Kazuha's, getting more and more enamored with it, sticking her tongue deep in her folds in sync with your cock, reaching all the way deep into Kazuha's cervix.

Kazuha got pounded harder and harder, making Doona a bit jealous as she started to crave for your cock. The young girl could barely stay on her feet as she looked at Doona for more instructions, but this time, the noona left her on her own. Her ass getting spanked, her pussy destroyed. It was the perfect initiation for Zuha.

You carried Zuha up while keeping your cock inside her pussy. Doona looked at the scene and smiled, watching you passionately carry fuck Kazuha as she kept moaning and your hips made loud noise every time they thrust into her. Kazuha clinged to you until you gave her a final spank, telling her to drop to her knees and taste herself while you kissed a now completely naked Doona, who was ready to go next.

Thanks to Zuha's quick blowjob, your cock easily slid inside Doona's pussy. But as soon as it did, she quickly tightened it up. You quickly responded, carrying her slim body up while sucking her perky tits as Kazuha dove between your legs and licked your balls while you adjusted your cock inside Doona's cunt.

"Stay right there. I got you, and I'm gonna fuck that pussy good," you told a smiling Doona, who enjoyed having her body lifted up in the air. You bounced Doona's smile against your cock as she laughed and moaned, feeling a tingling sensation she hadn't in a long time.

"Now I want you to take control and teach Zuha how to ride a cock properly," you told Doona after you put her body back on the ground. She quickly obliged, sliding it back inside in reverse cowgirl to give Zuha a perfect view of it. "Oh shit," you said as Doona's walls quickly wrapped around your cock.

But her pussy was so enticing you quickly forgot your words, thrusting into it as soon as she finished going all the way down your shaft. Doona just watched as your cock bulged under her belly, and Zuha took some time to relax, passionately kissing you.

"Wow, that's such a perfect cock," Doona said in between moans, caressing your balls as you pound her. "Keep going, that's so good," she continued, slowly losing her breath as your manhood made her pussy burn. And things were about to get even better, with Kazuha sitting her fat ass in your face and offering her pounded pussy for you to lick.

Doona took advantage of your distraction with Kazuha and started bouncing on your cock. You spanked and grabbed her pale, bouncy ass, which moved perfectly on your dick. "That's it," you told her in between more slaps, as her ass jiggled each time it went down, while Kazuha buried your face completely with her big ass.

To avoid their bouncy asses leading you to cum too early, you decided to cut their fun, putting both girls on the kitchen's stools. You stripped Kazuha fully naked, matching her with Doona. She sat her fat ass on the stool and opened her long legs for you to penetrate her again under Doona's watchful eye, quickly increasing the pace and making her struggle with your cock deep in her cunt, with Kazuha fingering herself and having Doona lick one of her feet as her pussy got pounded harder and harder.

"I'm gonna cum baby, ahhhh," Kazuha said in a cute manner, driving you feral as you hit the perfect spots in her pussy. Doona just watched in awe. It wasn't the first time she saw one of her threesome partners get leveled like that, but with just a stool as a support it might have been. Next time her best friend Nana comes to town, she'll make sure both try it.

Kazuha cums as you fuck her like an animal. It's now Doona's turn, and she can't wait, opening her legs as soon as you turn your attention to her. You rub your cock against her pussy and then kiss it, worshipping it like you are about to fuck a goddess, all that while Doona gives you a sexy stare.

Doona drops her head down as your cock has a difficult time getting deep in her pussy. She's really too tight for you to handle, leading you to take it slow, more so as her pussy-fingering makes her walls clench even further. You and Kazuha share kisses as you try to get deeper into Doona's pussy. "Does that feel good?" your crush asks. "It feels amazing," you answer her.

"Your pussy is so good," you tell Doona, rising up to the task of giving it the fucking it deserves. "Then fuck it like your life depends on it," Doona says, slowly riding herself into an orgasm as you increase your pace. You just decide to carry her once again, taking her to your bedroom as Kazuha walks alongside you.

You drop Doona into your bed and passionately fuck her under Kazuha's watch. The young girl seems to be enjoying watching it as she masturbates herself, but also feels a little jealous by all the love you start giving to Doona, kissing her and whispering words in her ear as if you're ready to get out of this bed and marry her the next day.

Kazuha fingers her pussy harder as you fuck Doona in a hot missionary love-making position. The older woman moans beautifully. She never told you about her job, but you wonder if she might be a singer because her moans are truly music to your ears. "Yes, keep going, ahhhh, ahhhhh," she moans as the bed starts creaking with your hard but very passionate pumps. Doona closes her eyes and just lets your cock stretch her pussy out, putting her under your complete submission as your balls smack agains her pale skin.

You bring Kazuha next as she smiles. Doona comes closer and watches you tell your crush what you did to her, all that while you bring Doona's body closer to the scene to eat her goddess-like pussy while you fuck Kazuha's and turn the younger girl into a submissive moaning mess, ruthelessly pounding her babyhole on a hardcore mating press under Doona's watch.

Doona turns around and gets herself on all fours, putting her ass close to your face and offering you both her fuckholes to lick while you stay fucking Kazuha. You happily seize the opportunity, matching your thrusting against your personal fucktoy Kazuha with the lickings you give to Doona's pussy and asshole.

Kazuha keeps getting pounded hard as you feel like you need to quell her jealousy over your latest round with Doona. These two girls are at the mercy of your cock, but you're also at their mercy, knowing that you need to show them a lot of love and fuck them good if you want to keep a good relationship with both.

After 10 long minutes of lovemaking with Zuha, you bring her to clean your cock from her own mess. Doona comes from behind and starts licking your asshole. You truly didn't know such a cute girl like her could be nasty too. "Ohhhh fuck," you say as Kazuha throats your cock while Doona tongues deep in your anus at the same time and then reaches under to stoke your shaft and caress your balls. The girls stay that way for a long while, as Kazuha has a long way to go before cleaning your cock while Doona shows she's a nasty girl who loves dirty assholes.

"Both of you, bend over," you tell the girls. Doona's cutely shaped ass contrasts with Zuha's fit butt. You lick both their pussies, starting with Doona's. Zuha quickly drops down and gets her ass spanked. You eat them out like the two perfect godesses that they are and then go back to fuck Doona once again.

"Fuck your pussy is so tight, and it only gets tighter," you tell Doona, who looks at herself in the mirror as you fuck her and finger Zuha's pussy. "That's it, baby," you tell Doona, who looks at Kazuha and loves the way the youngster is smiling while she gets stuffed full of cock.

Doona gets railed harder, her moans getting louder, and her ass getting more and more spanked. You move into a prone-bone position while Zuha flips around and flashes you her pussy for you to keep sucking it while you bury your cock deep inside Doona. "Seems like he loves multitasking," Kazuha says as she caresses your head and moves it closer to her pussy, while Doona smiles, before it goes away and gets replaced by more moans as you attack her pussy with your cock and Zuha's with your mouth.

Each thrust you give Doona sends her closer and closer to the heavens as you use her pussy so hard she can barely feel her legs at this point, numb by the amount of cock she has taken inside of her. But you just don't seem to stop; her tight pink pussy is just too good, and so is Zuha's within your range for more fingering and licking. These girls are made to be worshipped and fucked, and you'll do it as long as you have the stamina.

"Let's switch girls, turn your pussy this way," you tell Zuha, repeating the same position you did to Doona, prone boning the young girl as you eat Doona out. Kazuha seems to struggle hard, as you attack her cunt even harder when you do Doona's, testing her to the maximum. She moves her hips and meets your thrusts halfway, using her big ass like a pillow to dissipate the impact of your cock in her pussy, but you quickly tame the good girl and take control of her, enjoying the wet and clapping sounds coming out of her cunt every time you reach the depths of each, with Doona fingering herself heavily entertained with the scene and enjoying the way, and you obliterate Zuha's pussy nonstop in a perfect rhythm.

Kazuha quickly starts to tap out, and you show endless strength to pound her while giving sexy stares to Doona. Her ass gets spanked, and she gets weaker and weaker to resist your endless fucking. "Don't move, stay right there," you tell as she can't barely move. Meanwhile, you flip Doona around and get ready for another round of passionate lovemaking, all that while you and Zuha kiss each other, and she looks at Doona being pounded and smiles, watching the older girl taste the same medicine she just did.

Doona receives some bed-breaking sex, wrapping her legs around you as you just can't stop fucking her. Indeed, her pussy is like a drug to you now. You seem to have finally unleashed your inner beast and seize the opportunity of taking these two fuckdolls to the fullest. Your thursts are now so fast and powerful Doona can't even react, just cumming all over your cock as you plow into her on an animalesque mating press that makes her reach multiple orgasms for the first time in many years, your balls making loud clapping noises against her cheeks while the bed's creaking gets even louder.

You switch from Doona to Zuha, sticking your cock in your crush's pussy as it disappears right under her big ass. Doona takes a deep breath and masturbates herself watching you drill your crush. Kazuha struggles, already overwhelmed by taking so much cock over the past 40 minutes. But you just don't stop, entertaining Doona as you mount completely on top of Zuha and clap her cheeks hard, putting Zuha at total submission and smashing her cunt harder and harder.

Zuha can only helplessly moan as you absolutely show no mercy to her pussy, turning her into your personal fleshlight and asserting your dominance over her under Doona's watch. It doesn't take long until you fill your crush's pussy to the brim, pushing your seeds all the way deep into Kazuha's tight young hole. 

"OH FUCK!" you scream as you pull out of Zuha's pussy and open it up for Doona to lick your cum oozing out from it. "Shake that ass and show me how much you loved getting filled with my cum" you tell Kazuha, who smiles and happily does it. After they swap your seeds with each other, you kiss both girls and thank them for the night. "Did you two have fun?" you ask. "Definitely," Doona replies. "You fucked me so good," Kazuha then said. "I had a lot of fun too, we need to do that again," you say as the girls leave, Zuha back to her home and Doona back to her bedroom.

You wake up the next day and go to the kitchen, where you find Doona making breakfast while wearing nothing.

"What are you looking at?" she asks. "Have you never seen a naked woman before in your life? I'm pretty sure you saw two just yesterday," she continues. "Sorry, I felt a little embarrassed," you tell her.

"Embarassed from what? You just saw me like that yesterday," Doona giggled. "By the way, today is my birthday," she continued. "Then, happy birthday," you replied back.

"Not really; I need a gift only you can give me, and it's right between your legs," she tells you. "Well, I'm going back to my bedroom and will wait for you," Doona says.

You hesitate a bit, but after a few minutes, find your way into Doona's bedroom. She wraps herself in her blanket, pretending to be sleeping. You take a peek through it, right where her pussy is lying, fully shaved and waiting for you to fuck it again.

You run your hands through Doona's vagina, but she remains asleep; she truly must be a good actress to not feel anything from your touch. You take it slow, playing with your hands alongside her mound. You then take the upper part of her blanket and stare at her hardened, pierced nipples. Her body is truly perfect, but her face is even more beautiful. Unable to resist your perversions, you touch her breasts, but she remains unfazed.

You look at Doona's fully naked body lying in bed with awe, uncovering it completely, and running your hands in her ass now. She reacts and turns sideways, but still doesn't say a word. You place your thumb right at her butt crack and admire her pale ass, spreading it a bit to take a glimpse at her pink anus, then touching her pussy lips.

"Hey, Doona, hey, come on," you start calling for her, growing tired of her little sleeping beauty game. "Wake up, your gift is here, birthday girl," you tell her. "I'm so sleepy," she says to you. "Well, you can stay asleep while I play with you," you tell her.

You place your thumb right in Doona's pink butthole. "Wanna fuck it today?" she asks, as you then move it into her mouth for her to taste. "It's so dirty," she says. "But if you want to wake me up, you better give me some cock," Doona tells you.

"Looks like I have awakened the beauty as soon as we started talking about cock," you say, lying in Doona's bed. She smiles and crawls in your direction, going right at your pants. "What are you doing?" you ask her as she gets on top of you and starts rubbing her hands against your clothed manhood.

Doona teases you as she slowly rubs her clit lying in her bed. You come close to watch her performance, as then she uses her middle finger to shove it in her cunt. "Keep doing that; I love the way you touch yourself," you tell Doona, as you also give her boobs a little groping.

You choke Doona as she keeps masturbating herself. "You're such a fucking birthday slut," you tell her, giving her beautiful face a slap. "Look what you made me do yesterday; we and Kazuha weren't even planning to start dating yet; you made me cum deep in her pussy," you tell Doona.

"I didn't make you do anything; you're just a horny young boy who thinks with your cock. Which she was already sucking by the time I arrived. Right, Mr. . Won Jun?" Doona tells you the hard truth.

But you don't want to hear what she has to say and just keep slapping her model-esque face. She smiles every time you hit it. Maybe she's really taking some good acting classes, because you slap it hard yet she barely flinches.

"What do you do for your life, Doona?" you ask her. "Well, I was a singer for many years, but these days I want to be an actress," she answers, confirming your suspicions from the past couple days. "Then why did you move to a student flat?" you keep inquiring her. "Well, I didn't want the media to notice it," she says.

Then you ask her yet another question.

"Is Doona even your real name?"

"You searched who I was. That's funny because I was in your t-shirt all along and you didn't recognize me," Suzy answers.

"Well you looked a little different with bangs. So you are indeed the Bae Suzy, Korea's most beautiful face," you say to her.

"And by the way, you fucked me yesterday; I'm also Korea's tastiest pussy," she says, bragging about it.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll also be Korea's biggest whore," you tell her.

"Maybe I'm already that," she says.

You take your pants off and feed your beautiful big cock to Suzy, who sucks it masterfully from the beginning. Her blowjob is very slow, but she knows where to suck and where to stroke at the right places. She then goes all the way down and gives you an amazing deepthroat. "THAT'S IT, YOU BAD GIRL!" you tell her as you sit on the bed, and she immediately crawls to rim your ass and put your balls in her mouth.

"Shit, you're such a fucking whore," you tell Suzy. "Yes, I am, and I love licking your balls and your dirty asshole," she says, entertaining herself with them. In fact, she's so good massaging your prostate you have to spank her ass to ask her to stop before she drives you insane.

You keep spanking Suzy's butt with your feet as she keeps her mouth now glued to your balls. You then stroke your cock and crush her sexy face between your legs, slapping your shaft against it before you free her to do what she pleases with it, as Suzh sucks and licks it like a maniac and makes your curse endlessly, then follows it with a couple more deepthroats.

"Get down, bitch," you say as you position Suzy's face in the perfect angle to start thrusting against it. "YEAH, THAT'S IT, BITCH," you tell her, using her pretty face to your pleasure, even sitting on top of it for her to lick your ass again, burying it full of cock. 

Suzy then turns around and puts her ass up, leading you to spank it even harder. "OH YEAH, OH MY GOD," she screams as your hands hit it heavily multiple times and then places your thumb in her anus. "Open it, bitch, I want to see that fucking asshole," she says as her ass crack closes between your hands.

Suzy quickly flips herself around and guides your cock into her pussy. "Oh my God, what a birthday gift for me," she says as it slowly makes its way inside her hole. You quickly pump it hard, just like yesterday, as she fingers her clit. "I want you to take this big cock all the way in," she begs.

You're in full control, pouding Suzy's cunt at will as she stays lying on the bed while you are on your feet, taking her from above. "It's so big, and it's stretching my pussy so fucking good, yeah," Suzy says as you slow down, grab her neck, and reassert your dominance over her.

"I want you to be an obedient good girl for my cock," you tell her, slapping Suzy once again. "OH YEAH," she answers as you pick the pace back up, now spanking her boobs as you thrust into her cunt. "Damn, that pussy gets even wetter when I smack your slutty body," you tell her.

"Tell me I'm your fucking whore; do whatever you want to me, as long as you give me that fucking cock," Suzy begs as you keep pounding her. "I love being slapped like that; please, baby, use me," she continues as she rubs her pussy and slowly starts cumming, closing her legs and eyes, and having herself a heavenly orgasm.

But you don't want Suzy to have that much fun already, switching positions to a hard spooning where you pound her hard while groping her bouncy tits. "That's what I want; use me like a fucking whore, choke me, and give me that birthday fucking I deserve," she tells you.

"OH MY GOD, YOU FUCK ME LIKE AN ANIMAL," Suzy moans as you attack her pussy even harder. You had already done that yesterday but in a more passionate manner; today, you'll be rough and use her like a bitch; after all, out of the 365 or 366 days of the year, only today is the birthday of the Bae Suzy, the it girl of all it girls.

"COME ON, BITCH, YOU'RE SUCH A BAD GIRL," you say as you pound Suzy and slap her back for a bit. You then stop and let her taste herself on your cock. "Stroke it, you fucking cunt," you tell her, lying on the bed as you let her have fun with your throbbing shaft and spit on it while using your feet to choke her and make it harder for Suzy. She gets more animalesque, getting out of it and giving you a sloppy blowjob. "OH FUCK," you groan as your cock reaches the depths of her throat.

Suzy climbs on top of you and impales your massive cock back in her cunt, bouncing on it as she says dirty words to you. "Look how I ride this big fucking cock; I'm such a bad girl," she tells you.

You quickly put an end to Suzy's fun, pumping your cock upwards against her cunt and hitting her cervix. "Oh my God," she moans, but quickly regains control. You keep slapping her tits, trying to make her lose her cool, but Suzy stays composed and just smashes your cock like the good whore she is. 

"That's the way," you praise Suzy's riding skills as she now slowly grinds on your shaft. "It's so fucking good," she says as she enjoys it reaching the depths of her pussy, bouncing on it while licking your right foot. "You're such a whore, your sucking it like they are another dick, such a good girl," you tell Suzy, who puts all your toes in her mouth and keeps bouncing on your cock with ease regardless.

"That pussy is so wet," you tell Suzy as she stays using it to crush your cock. "And your cock feels so good in it, it's gonna make me cum again," she replies, rolling her eyes and enjoying it to the fullest.

You grab Suzy's neck as soon as she finishes her orgasm, but she grabs your shaft in retribution and strokes it mastefully. You punch back, hitting her in the face once more as you two duel to see who's the most animalesque person in that bed.

You get on top of Suzy and stick your cock from behind in her pussy. "I'm just your fucking slut," she says as you kiss her and she feels your shaft going back inside her. But she had stroked you so hard you were already throbbing, to the point that after just a few thrusts you were already on the edge. You pull her hair and use her like a fuckdoll, showing no restraint whatsoever. 

"Spread that ass; I'm gonna plow that fucking pussy until I cum inside it," you vow as you also penetrate Suzy's asshole with your thumb. "God, it's so fucking wet," you add. "Do it please, cum in my pussy just like you did to your girlfriend yesterday," Suzy demands.

Your thrusts come to a halt as you explode inside Suzy's perfect pussy. But you are far from done. In this morning, Suzy will be nothing but your cum dump, as you don't even let her taste the cum that flows out of her pussy, quickly turning her sideways and kissing her while slowly shoving your cock in the second prize of the day, her butthole.

"Ahhhh," Suzy moans as your big cock stretches her tiny anus. "You know, your girlfriend has a great ass; you could use some training with me to fuck hers next," Suzy tells you. "She's not my girlfriend," you argue with her. "Why, am I your girlfriend now, you cheater?" she asks.

"No, you're just a whore, and in a few minutes you'll literally be a sore ass whore," you tell her. But you started rather gently, seeing that her tight asshole won't give up easily, trying to get accostummed to an even tighter hole than her already tight pussy.

Suzy fingers herself, and you two keep sharing kisses as your cock slowly digs deeper in her asshole. You wrap your arms around her and start giving her butt a couple pumps, kissing her in the meantime. "OH MY GOD, YOU'RE SO BIG IN MY ASS," she tells you.

Suzy struggles with your cock in her ass; it's been a long time since she's been fucked in the butt, but you manage to slowly ease her into it, going very slowly and passionately wrapping her around your arms. She moans as you put more and more heat inside it. "Fuck, it's so big," is all she can say. You finally give her harder pumps, trying to make her adjust through the pain. She screams, but you just don't care and cover her mouth. "Shut up, you fucking whore," you say to her, relentlessly pounding her butthole.

"I love that," Suzy says. Sometimes, pain is the best way to reach a goal, and she confirms it. You keep going, kisses at the top, poundings at the bottom. You make her tits jiggle and bring her to submission, thrusting as hard as you can in that whore. But you can also be kind and slow down to kiss her from time to time.

Suzy sits on your cock and tries to ride it anally, but you don't let her, pounding her ass as soon as she attempts to make a move. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD," she screams, fingering her pussy to cope with the heat you put in her ass, squirting a bit.

But you're so controlling you don't even let Suzy do it, placing your own hands in her cunt while manhandling her butt. "GOD, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME FUCKING CUM AGAIN, FUCKKKKKKK,"  Suzy screams while sirens of a police car pass through the street, making her get quiet for a bit to not get noticed before going back to plead to God at each pump you give her ass.

"OH FUCKKKKKK!" Suzy screams again as you pull out of her and let her taste her butthole; she seizes the opportunity and sucks your cock like a maniac. "Lick my ass again," you tell her, who quickly obliges and then moves up to your balls and later your whole shaft, showcasing her cock-addicted spirit.

"God damn it, Suzy, you really know how to lick a man's ass," you tell her. "And I know how to suck a man's big fat cock even better," she says, moving up and giving you yet another deepthroat, which you make sure to last as long as possible, putting your legs over her head and pushing it to your shaft, with Suzy only pulling out when she's completely out of air.

Suzy twists your pole and throats your shaft hard, quickly recovering. "Damn, this fucking cock is so good; this is the best birthday ever," she tells you before going on another deepthroat. "You could make it better by giving me that asshole once again and sitting on it," you reply.

Suzy obliges and quickly moves to get on top of you. "Oh fuck," she says, rolling her eyes as your massive pole impales her butthole. She takes it slow, baffled with how huge your cock is. Slowly increasing the pace, she put her fingers in her pussy and used them to fuck herself. Finally finding the rytym, Suzy rides it as hard as she can.

"Keep going, baby, come on," you give Suzy words of incentive, and they work, her riding your cock perfectly and at full speed now. "That's how you do it, good girl, or should I say, bad girl?" you tell her as her hips hit yours and you love it. "Don't stop, baby; bounce on that cock like the fucking whore you are," you tell her.

Suzy giggles as she squirts on your face. "You made my pussy cum from my asshole," she says with a big smile in her face, burying your cock in her ass and staying with it inside her. The fucking was very intense, so she had to take a needed break, so you just pull out and let her suck it once more, letting Suzy show how crazy she is for cock, stroking your shaft in a way that almost snaps it in half while enjoying your big balls and dirty butthole.

"Let me see that asshole," you ask of Suzy, who turns around and spreads her butt open for you to see the work your cock did on it. But it was all an excuse to shove your cock in it while getting a perfect view of her behind. 

"Sit all the way down," you tell Suzy. She does it as you please, pushing your full pole in it. "Move it slowly up and down; let me see my length going in and out of your ass," you tell Suzy, who does it very slowly. "That's perfect, very slow, just like I want it," you tell her. Suzy's slow bounces and her moans over your massive cock impaling her push you to the edge once again. "Like that, like that, keep moving slowly," you tell her.

Suzy bounces faster as you give her butt a few spanks and order her to do so, getting you even closer to cumming again. You can no longer resist the urge; her bounces are getting you out of breath. You soon take control, getting on the edge of the bed and putting Suzy on all fours and fucking her asshole at full speed, giving her hard spanks until you finally cum inside it.

It seems for a moment that's going to be it for the morning. As your cum oozes out of Suzy's butthole, you are now feeling exhausted, and Suzy heads to the shower. You stand idle in the bed for a few minutes, just hearing the noises coming from the bathroom and unable to get yourself hard again after such a long good fucking and two ball-draining cumshots inside Suzy's tight fuckholes.

But as soon as you decide to check on Suzy in the shower, that immediately changes. Her naked body looks even sexier while covered in water, and it gives you an instant boner. You look at her recently fucked ass, her washing your cum that's still all over it. She gives you that perfect smile, turning around as you give her some soap to pour over her body, the white foam covering her fuckholes, making them very enticing.

Suzy spreads her pussy lips and washes them with a lot of soap. She also uses a natural cleaner, as lots of pee comes out of it to help wash her cum-filled cunt. She also pours a lot of soap on her boobs, leading to a lot of foam covering them, before washing them away. Seeing your cock get hard once again, Suzy grabs it and strokes your shaft in the masterful way she always does. "It's so dirty after such a long time in my ass; let me help clean it," she says.

After lots of stroking, finally feeling your cock is truly clean, Suzy turns around, gets off the shower, and guides it for one final time in her pussy. She takes it deep, wiggling her ass and bouncing on it sensually while holding her hands against the shower's support. You stay passive for a bit, just letting her do the work, until a feeling of guilt starts coming into your head.

You start thinking of Kazuha. The good girl you had worked so hard to get a date and even managed to have sex with her in it, who must be chilling at her home now unaware that you are fucking the older, sluttier clone of her. Every time Suzy bounces her cunt all the way down her cock, you get madder at her for being such a good whore that she leads to you having second thoughts about Zuha. For being such a bad girl.

You grab Suzy by her neck once again and take her out of the shower. You are now determined to punish this slut on her birthday for being such a wrecking force of nature. For undermining your relationship. For pushing you towards doing the naughtiest things in bed. You take her across the bathroom, hitting her beautiful face multiple times until you shove it down the toilet.

But that only makes Suzy get sluttier. She puts her tongue out and invites the challenge as you stick your cock in her pussy once more. You flush the toilet, but she stays unfazed, pushing you to fuck her as hard as you can. "Fuck me just like that," she demands. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SHITTY WHORE," you answer, yelling at her.

"Take that fucking cock, stupid whore," you tell Suzy. Now you don't care which hole you're fucking. Pussy, anus, it doesn't matter, as long as you stick your cock hard and deep inside Suzy and show her who the boss is. You hammer her like a lifeless sex doll, flushing the toilet multiple times to teach her a lesson. "OH FUCKKKKKK," she screams, but with a laugh in her face and an animalesque drive that quickly rises up as you get more and more insane.

Suzy crawls on all fours as you finish fucking her in the toilet, screaming like a horny demon as she chases you over the bathroom. You pin her to the glass of the shower box and fuck her face, making her drool in saliva that drops down her chin. Your cock is throbbing so hard for that bitch that you quickly have to pull out, jerking your cock off as you prepare to unload in her face. "I want all that cum in my fucking throat, every single drop of it," she says in an inviting fashion.

And what a load it was. It may have been the third of the day, but it was by far the fattest, covering Suzy's face and mouth and painting the whole glass behind her in white. Twelve shots of milky white cream for this whore on her birthday, glazing her face. Suzy is so hungry she immediately licks your cum out of the glass, fulfilling her promise of swallowing every single drop, making bubbles with it in her mouth.

"It tastes so fucking good," she tells you. "That was a good way to wake up," you tell her. Suzy gets back to bed as you admire her body—the way she's a perfect cum dump, smelling like every single body fluid and looking like a total slut.

"Is this better than the breakfast you were eating in the kitchen? I bet it has a lot more protein," you tell her. "For sure," Suzy answers, giggling to you. Both of you stay in bed for a bit, her winking your anus and praising you for giving her such a great birthday gift, until you say a couple of words that provide the perfect ending.

"I need to pee."

"Then pee on me," Suzy says. "Let's go to the shower once again," you tell her. Suzy kneels on the shower's tile, and your cock bursts the yellow liquid all over her mouth, with her easily swallowing more of it, smiling at you once you're done turning her into an urinal.

"I think I'm gonna take a walk after this, smelling like piss and cum," Suzy says. "Also, don't you have classes this morning?" she asked.

"Damn, you're right," you tell her.

"I'll be waiting tonight, and don't forget to bring Kazuha."

PS: I almost canceled this fic, but given I had written most of it, in spite of my tight schedule, I decided to make an effort to publish it on Suzy's 30th birthday, as she has always been one of my favorites and is one of the most legendary female idols to ever live. Hope you guys enjoy the story, the refences to Doona, one of the dramas she starred on, the threesome with her lookalike Kazuha and her going full bad girl for a morning sex session.

Happy Suzy Day!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (4)

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

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

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

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

You give the stranger your name but he just tells you to call him S. He seems a lot more important than you, so that makes sense. He must be if he's throwing around money so easily. A lot of money.

That seems to be on his mind too.

"Did you get the transfer?" He asks as he takes off his sunglasses.

You rub between your thumb and index nervously. You can't stop fidgeting. You glance around for what must be the dozenth time. You feel like everyone is watching you, that they all know you're doing something so stupid. Yet, nobody is looking at you.

"I... didn't check," you murmur. "I've just been waiting."

"Sorry again for making you wait," he puts his large hands on the table, framing the tall mug with his fingers. "You know what they say about meeting people online."

You snort, "ha, yeah."

You look out the window and exhale. That only stirs your nerves. You face him and sit back in the chair, folding your hands in your lap.

"I'm sorry. I think this was a bad idea." You say.

"Is it? We haven't even talked."

"Yeah, but... I should be looking for a job or... my mom. She's all alone..." you wring your hands.

"I want to help with that," he turns his hands and taps his fingers on the table. He sniffs. "I'm trying to figure out how to say what I want to say. And that's what it is. I want to help."

"But why? I don't know you. You don't me." Your teeth want to chatter, you're so nervous.

His chests rises and falls. His throat bobs. He resets his posture.

"That would be part of it." His blue eyes bore into yours. They're so bright and bold. "Getting to know each other."

You shake your head, confused.

"I could help with the medical bills and groceries. Whatever you need. It would just be..." he extends his fingers as he gestures with his hands. "An exchange. An arrangement. All you have to do is spend time with me."

You stare at him. Your eyes search his face. Your mouth slants. You want to laugh. It sounds absurd. Yet, he looks serious. You straighten your lips.

"By spend time you mean..." you shiver and mash your hands together in your lap. "They don't have people you can pay in New York."

He sighs. "It's not just... if physical things happen..." he pauses and his cheek twitches. "I'd prefer we just feel it out and see where it goes."

You look down. He can dress it up and say it as carefully as he likes. You've heard about these things. There's women on TikTok who post videos about new handbags or designer shoes and their 'daddies'. But they are so beautiful. They are interesting. You're just... afraid.

He coughs and shifts his chair closer. "I know it's not easy to be in your position. Sick parents are difficult. My mom... when I was about your age, she was really sick too. Still is but we manage."

You peek up at him. You don't know what to say. There's that voice in your head telling you that the answer is clear as day; no. You're not a prostitute. No, you have dignity. Then there's the other one, the louder one. You have nothing and you're about to lose even that.

"How about this? Before you make up your mind, let me take you around town. We'll just get to know each other. Baseline." He suggests. "We'll have our coffee, order some lunch, and you can show me around."

You bite your cheek. That's not too bad. He's not pushing you. If anything, he seems just as unsure. That makes you feel a bit better.

But can you really do this? Can you sell yourself like that? He's still just a stranger. Still just S.

Your head is reeling. What would your mom think? Well, you couldn't tell her, just like you never told her what you're really doing right then.

You bring your hand up to rub your shoulder. You hook your fingers around, shielding yourself, and nod.

"Alright, I'll try." You agree, keeping the rest of the sentence inside; I don't have any other options.

His cheeks dimple. The lines on his face only add to his good looks. He really isn't that bad. A bit older. Maybe a lot older.

"So, you hungry? What do you want?" He looks over at the chalkboard menu.

You follow his gaze. You focus on the menu. It's a bit easier to do that.

"My treat," he assures.

"Um, thanks," you scratch your neck nervously. If it were up to you, you wouldn't waste the money. "The veggie croissant sounds okay."

"Sure, anything else," he stands.

You push your shoulders back and and shake your head. "Thank you. That's more than enough."

"No problem," he turns and struts up to join the line.

You watch him. His shirt is taut across his shoulder blades and around his biceps. He's built better than any man you've seen before. Confident. He's cool as he waits patiently and steps up calmly to order. He slides out his wallet and swipes his card. Not a second thought. No tallying up rent or bills or even just the cost of a bag of rice.

He folds up his wallet and spins. You avert your attention to the table. He approaches and sits again.

"They'll bring it to us," he says.

"Okay," you accept. You can't look at him.

He shifts. "Look, I don't see you as just... I see you as a person. I hope you realise that. I really do want to help you."

"Yeah, I know." You swallow. "I'm sorry. I'm just... thinking."

"That's okay," he assures. "Not rushing you. So uh... I'll tell you about me a bit. If you want?"

You nod and make yourself look. His eyes are almost sparkling as they stick to you. You're a stranger to him too. How can he be so interested? Just you and your butterflies.

"I have a business. I have been running it for the last fifteen years. Before that, I did some corporate work but I really didn't like the politics, so started my own thing," he explains. "I live in New York, I watch baseball, I like to draw. Or liked to. I don't have a lot of time for that anymore." He pauses and holds up his finger. "One sec."

He reaches to his chest pocket and flips up the flap. He slides out a napkin. He unfolds it on the table.

"Got bored on the plane," he slides it over to you. It's a sketch of a butterfly. It's really good too.

"Wow, you did that?" You ask.

"Mm hm," he hums. "I'm a bit rusty."

"No, it's really good," you lean in to admire it. "Wow."

He's quiet. You put your fingers on the edge of the napkin as you look it over.

"My mom used to draw. Paint, too. She's really good. Like you."

You peek up at him. There's a subtle curve in his lips.

"It's... nothing but you can keep it if you want."

"I think it's more than nothing," you pick it up. "That's so cool."

"Ha, thanks. Think the real thing is cooler."

He sits back and looks over as one of the cafe employees approaches. She puts down your plates and tells you to enjoy. You tuck away the napkin.

"Looks delicious," S says.

It does and it smells even better. You hesitate as he picks up half his sandwich. You stare at yours.

"Everything okay?" He asks.

You think about your mom. She doesn't eat much these days but you wish you could bring her good food like this. You resist a frown.

"It's all good," you assure. "Thanks so much. It looks great."

You pick up half the croissant, careful not to let the contents spill out.

"So, where do you work?" He asks.

You nibble and swallow tightly. "Oh, just... customer service at a few stores. Nothing special."

"Hm, that must be stressful."

"It can be," you shrug. "Not the most stress I have right now... but er, whatever."

"Not whatever but I can understand not wanting to talk about it." He says. "Any other hobbies? Besides the butterflies?"

"No..." you drone. "Just watch some TV here and there. Go for walks when I can. There isn't too much going on around here." Not much you can afford.

"Any recommendations? I don't watch much but I'm always open to binge," he says.

"Not unless you're a fan of 90s sitcoms," you shake your head.

"Don't mind them," he says.

He leans forward to take a bite. You focus on your own sandwich. Your stomach is mulching painfully with each morsel. You only realise then how hungry you are.

🦋

S is even bigger walking next to him. You take him down the block to the park. You don't often come to this part of town but it's nicer than your neighbourhood. There's a fountain there.

You collide with S as he tries to follow the path but you find yourself distracted by the birds bathing in the water. You apologise and back up. He chuckles and turns to look at the fountain.

"Pretty. Peaceful," he says as he stops to watch them. "Different. New York is just... everything."

"Oh, it must be super busy there."

"Yeah, very," he agrees. "This is nice though."

"Probably boring to someone like you."

"Boring is nice. Boring is... easier," he says.

He starts toward the fountain and you follow. He stops at the edge and turns to sit. You do the same. The water trickles, the scent of it stirring the air.

You peer around. Another mother with her stroller, a couple and their dog, a brood of kids and their parents. It's all so nice and perfect and sweet. All these people are so happy. They don't have to worry about a thing.

You can barely remember the days when you weren't bound in anxiety. When you were the little girl skipping down the pathway. It feels like it's always been this.

You turn away to hide the gleam in your eyes. You don't know why you're thinking about that right now. You dab your eyes with your knuckle and sigh. You make yourself sit up.

"It's pretty here," you say.

He's watching you. You can feel it. Did he notice?

"It's gorgeous," he agrees but he isn't looking at the trees or the flowers.

You sniff and turn to watch the birds again. You make yourself smile. He shifts to see them too.

"Is your mom waiting for you?" He asks.

"She'll wonder where I am. She always does," you cross one arm across your middle. "I told her I was going to the bank to pay bills and do some running around."

He looks at you and nods.

"I didn't mention you. She doesn't know at all." You say. "It's just... I wasn't sure..."

"You weren't?" He wonders. "What about now?"

You clamp your lips and tilt your head. You open your mouth but can't find the words. You drop your shoulders.

"I don't know. I... I'm very lost right now." You look away.

He exhales. "I know it might not be very obvious, but I am too. I came all the way here and I was sure I was going to sit there alone all day. I kept checking your page thinking maybe you might delete and disappear with the money. Which is fine, that's fine. Your mom needs it but I just... the money is nothing to me." He sucks in air and laughs grimly. "New York is lonely. Being the boss, it's isolating. I didn't know what else to do and I... I just want something simple."

You listen, rolling around your thoughts on your tongue, poking your cheeks. You might be gullible but he sounds honest. Vulnerable even.

You hang your head and turn so that you're facing the open park path. You lean forward and wiggle your feet. "I just want my mom to be okay," you utter. "And if she isn't, then I don't want her to spend the time she has left like this."

He's quiet for a moment. You could wilt right then. All the stress crashes down on you and threatens to smother you.

"I can make sure that's not the case. I can help you keep her comfortable," he slides his hand across the stone and touches yours. "And you don't have to tell her about me."

"Yeah, she doesn't need to worry about me," you push yourself straight. You look him in the face. "I think we could try."

[certaimromance]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. Love or seal?

Dean Winchester x Hunter!reader

main masterlist

Summary: An avenging spirit is killing married couples, so the Winchesters think it's a good idea to use you to pretend to be one and take down the ghost. But the act becomes all too real before you know it.

Words: 1,8k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of murder, death, violence. so much teasing. a little of angst with happy ending. dean from the early seasons but soft and chaotic (a bit simp). sam being cupid and forgotten lol. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I've always been a Dean girl and I'm so excited about this. I love the concept of "Frenemies to Lovers" with its more playful and cutie version from the earlier seasons, I hope I described it well.

This is my second time ever writing here, i'm still new.

You took another look in the mirror and walked a few laps around the dingy motel room, trying to swallow the act. It seemed ironic to wear such a fancy dress and high heels in a place like this, but it was all so you could solve the case and prevent more deaths. After all, it was your job to catch the ghosts and put them to rest.

It had been a long time since you'd been out on a date or worn anything other than your usual jeans and leather jacket. Buying yourself a cute dress and wedding rings with one of your fake cards had been entertaining, the closest thing to a normal life you'd had in years.

“Come in, I need help with the zipper on my dress.” You said after hearing a couple of knocks on your door.

You were still standing in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for Sam to show up to help you so the two of you could leave soon for the restaurant where you both had reserved a table. The strange thing was that the cold hands you felt running down your back and zipping you up were not his, but those of his older brother.

“What are you doing here? Where is Sam?” You turned around to look at Dean once your dress was closed. It was then that you noticed he was wearing a suit and the ring.

“In the room.” He replied, moving closer to you so he could look at himself in the mirror and adjusting his tie with difficulty, he was not used to wearing one at all and felt suffocated.

“Why are you dressed like that?” You asked him after looking him over from head to toe and inevitably biting your lower lip. He looked good, all dressed up and dapper, you could even smell the scent of cologne wafting off him.

“I'll be your husband for tonight.” Dean smiled at you.

You frowned when you heard that the younger Winchester would no longer be your fake husband, because that was not what you had all agreed upon. Sam had always been more husband material, and you trusted him enough to have some physical contact if necessary. On the other hand, you saw Dean as someone who was far from the prototypical perfect partner, and you could barely talk to him without arguing about your differences, never having touched him except for sparring practice or taking away the gun he kept stealing from you. You couldn't deny that both brothers were attractive, but they were almost equally far from meaning anything romantic to you.

“We flipped a coin and I got the job.” He added to the explanation, noticing the confusion on your face.

Finally you nodded, realizing that once again they had not been able to reach an agreement and had had to put luck in the middle for the choice of roles. You didn't mind going with Dean, you had already been on several hunts with him and trusted his skills, but having to impersonate his wife was weird.

“Can you...?” He tried to ask you, pointing at his tie and all the trouble it caused him.

You let out a small laugh at seeing him so confused over a simple tie and went over to him to take it off. You had to tie it all over again because of how badly he had done it before.

“This looks very wife.” He commented as he saw the delicacy with which you were trying to fix his mess.

“I hope the spirit feels the same and is looking forward to slaughtering us.” You replied, taking a step away from him as you finished.

You two said a quick goodbye to Sam and then hopped into the Impala, which took you to a shiny restaurant near the road where the ghost appeared.

“Don't embarrass me, please.” You said to him as soon as you both sat down at the table and placed your order.

“How could I, darling?” He smiled innocently at you and took your hand on the table, caressing the ring on your finger.

You didn't say anything, just smiled back and kept your thoughts to yourself. You couldn't believe he actually called you that, sounding almost like a husband, even though you knew it was because of the acting, it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. The most you'd gotten from Dean Winchester in all the years you'd known him was a "good job" and a strange smile, followed by a lot of questions about your careless decisions. You alone were far enough away from marriage, let alone someone like him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” You told him as you saw he was drinking water, causing him to almost spit it out in surprise.

Usually you never complimented him, barely looked him in the eye, talked about anything other than hunting, or even laughed at his jokes. It seemed that his presence didn't matter much to you because your interests were more aligned with Sam's and you got along better with him. That bothered Dean a lot, he hated being so invisible in your eyes.

Now, however, you didn't take your eyes off him and even gave him compliments that left him speechless to continue the performance.

“At least the food is good.” You said absentmindedly as the waiter brought the plates.

“And the company?”

You looked into his eyes, trying to understand if he was playing with you or if he was really hurt by your lack of emotion. The strange thing was that you didn't know if it was one or the other, his greenish gaze was a mystery.

“The best company, of course.” You gave him a smile and picked up your glass of wine to make a small toast.

“How affectionate you are now.”

“Yes, I feel almost as if today is the last day of my life.” You said with irony.

Dinner went off without a hitch in a quiet and strangely pleasant atmosphere. You couldn't help but be surprised by Dean's friendliness, it was the first time you had a civilized conversation with him. The first time he held your hand and you noticed how green his eyes were.

Suddenly, everything he said, silly or not, made you smile. The only rational thing to do was to attribute it to the glass of wine he had decided to drink. In general, you didn't allow yourself to drink alcohol, let alone in the middle of a hunt. But now, for some reason, you thought it would help your nerves and relax you a bit.

“Where did you leave the car?” You asked once they left the site and the time to travel the road of death was approaching.

“In the corner over there...I hope.” He answered without really being sure. For him, it had all happened so fast when you two arrived.

“My feet hurt. Don't play with me now.” You said, hating the high heels you were wearing.

At that moment, the hunter stopped and motioned for you to sit on the bench by the exit. Unsure, you obeyed and frowned as he knelt down to gently remove your shoes.

“Happy now?” He asked he asked, holding your heels in his hands.

“I can't walk barefoot.” You claimed, putting on a fake sad face and lowering your gaze to his arms.

Dean shook his head instantly.

“No, don't even think that I'll carry you.” He warned confidently, folding his arms.

A few minutes later, he was silently leading you to the car, snorting at every opportunity to give in so easily to your wishes.

“This looks very husband.” You pointed out with a smile and a teasing tone.

“I would offer you to the spirit right now.” He replied, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“How lovely you are, my dear.”

The two finally got into the car and headed for the exit. Dean had received a message from his brother telling him that he had found the name of the ghost woman and her grave with her husband, who was the cause of all his resentment against happily married couples, and to top it off, he was buried on top of her.

“Sam is going to burn the grave and everything will be fine.” He said trying to comfort you as he saw the concern on your face. “Maybe the woman doesn't want to kill anyone today.”

“You have too much faith in a murderous spirit.” You sighed and tried to remove the ring from your finger, but it stuck. “And you should take the ring off.”

“Are we getting divorced so soon?” He replied in a joking tone, with his eyes on the road.

You looked at him seriously, this was no time for jokes because everything was going wrong. If Sam didn't dig up those bones soon, they were probably going to kill you both and the plan was going to fail completely. It was supposed to be easy and you were terrified that it wasn't anymore.

“Come on, don't be like that. You were laughing so hard with me.” He smiled at you.

Before you could respond, a pale woman in a blood-stained wedding dress appeared in the back seat. You could barely say Dean's name when the ghost's hand came around your neck and began to choke you. After a few moments, you couldn't even breathe and everything became a blur.

You didn't want to die, at least not at that moment. Not without having lived a life as good as the night before everything went to hell. You still had too many things to do to go like that, let alone in front of him, you couldn't let that happen.

“Don't move.” The hunter said to you before drawing his gun and disputing you to the back seat.

The ghost disappeared for a few seconds and then reappeared just ahead of the road. A braking maneuver as the woman was beginning to burn in front of the two of you almost made you jump out of your seat.

Sam had succeeded.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks, looking at you with concern.

“Yeah.” You said, still trying to catch your breath and process everything that had happened.

“And my thanks for saving you and not letting death part us?”

At any other time, you would have simply made a sarcastic comment and emphasized that it was all thanks to her brother. However, the recent experience had changed something in you and made you kiss his cheek.

Before you could completely pull your face away from his, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you close. You felt his lips move over yours and responded without hesitation. A big part of you had been thinking about this moment all night and was more than happy it was happening. It was like the perfect ending to a fake marriage date, minus the killer ghost part, and it made you smile in the middle of it.

“You didn't flip any coin, did you?” You asked as you broke away from the kiss for a second.

“No, I didn't.” He admitted, leaving a kiss on your head and making you smile even more.

[chlix]

baby, it's cold outside (no seriously it's crazy out there)

bf! chan x gn! reader: your car breaks down in a snowstorm and you have to walk home. chan is there to comfort you and warm you back up

pairing: chan x reader

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: snowstorms, car trouble, sickness, a long series of unfortunate events that leave the reader miserable for most of the fic

a/n: this is a request from @caticorn61 who wanted chan being apologetic for not answering his phone after reader's car broke down. this is perhaps more than what u asked for 😅 but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

You are on a historic run of bad days.

You've never considered yourself to be particularly unlucky, but this past week has had you rethinking that orientation. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. On Monday your alarm didn't go off, making you late for work. Even worse, there was a meeting you'd forgotten about, so you had to slide awkwardly into the back of the room and pretend you didn't feel everyone's annoyed gazes. Tuesday was grocery shopping day, but you found out they discontinued your favorite brand of chips, and raised the price of an alternative, so you were forced to go home chip-less. Then, when you tried to take the groceries out of the car, one of the bags split open and sent your eggs, cheese, and blueberries crashing to the ground, buried in slush and snow. A total waste. Wednesday you woke up to find your heating had shut off in the night, and you were now shaking fit to break apart. Although maintenance promptly fixed your radiator, you developed an itch in your throat that only grew throughout the day and had developed into a full-blown cough by the next morning.

Which is where you are now on a subzero Thursday morning, ill and irritated and crawling your way towards the end of the week.

Your boyfriend, Chan, talks to you on the phone in soothing tones.

"I'm sorry your week has been so rough, baby," he says, and you can hear the dripping sympathy through the phone. "I know how it feels when little things pile up like that."

"I just don't know if I can take it anymore," you tell him. "It's like I've been cursed. I'm afraid if I walk outside a piano will fall on me and crush me."

You're half-joking when you say that, but Chan can hear that the other half is vaguely on hysterical.

"I don't think anyone is moving pianos in this weather," he says very reasonably. "Just stay away from luxury apartments if you're worried."

You set your bag down and put your face in your hands, taking slow, deep breaths. Your phone is on speaker, and you can hear Chan hum, trying to comfort you even though he's in his own dorm across the city.

"It'll all be okay, Y/n. And I'll see you this weekend, yeah? I'll come over Friday night and you'll have me all to yourself. Just stay strong."

You exhale, long and loud. "You promise?"

"I promise. Be strong for me, babygirl."

You blink the dampness out of your eyes and straighten up. "Okay. I can do that."

"And drink some tea. Your voice sounds kind of rough."

"Don't get me started again, please."

By the time you hang up, you don't feel understood, but you do feel seen. You fill up a thermos with tea, put on your coat, and mentally prepare yourself to leave the apartment.

It's only two more days, you remind yourself. The weekend will fix me. It'll break this curse that's been placed upon me. You force yourself to have a positive outlook. You will not have another bad day. You will be strong.

All day, you force yourself to react to every potentially meltdown-inducing incident with grace and poise. You realize you forgot your lunch and have to eat cheap candy from the vending machine for lunch? That's totally fine. Your boss adds another item to your to list, forcing you to stay later to finish everything and close up? You really don't mind. Your best friend texts you that she's been stalking her ex on Instagram again and you won't believe it but he already has a new girlfriend, y/n, can you fucking believe it, we've only been broken up for like two weeks and he's buying her fucking jewelry, and you respond what an asshole. he has a new gf and he didn't block his ex? while your eye twitches.

By the time you finish all your tasks and close up, your face hurts from holding a smile you don't feel. You're the last one out, so you make sure the building is locked and make your way across the empty parking lot to your car. The forecast predicted snow tonight, and already the ground is littered with white. The flakes are fat and sticky- they're already building up on the undisturbed portions of pavement. You have to quickly brush off your windows and mirrors before you can get into your car, slamming the door behind you.

You made it. You survived. It was a godawful Thursday but you conquered it.

"One more day," you whisper to yourself. "Just one more day."

You lock the door and put the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights up and the engine turns.....and turns....and turns.....

A rock forms in your stomach.

"No," you say. "No no no no no." You twist the key again, but the engine whirs and whirs and whirs...and does not turn over. Your car does not start.

It's not news to you that your car is a piece of shit. You and Chan discuss this almost every night- what to do about this fuckass car. You've been resistant to letting him help you pay for a new one, partially because that's a lot of money and partly because you're sentimentally attached to the old rustbucket. You inherited it from a family member as a birthday gift, and so despite it being less than reliable you're hesitant to seek solutions. It's your first car, after all. It's a part of you now.

In this moment, however, you want to throw all that sentimentally down the drain along with the keys to this absolutely useless fucking rustbucket of a vehicle.

Not to worry, you tell yourself. I'll just call Chan to come get me. We can deal with my car in the morning.

You take out your phone and call him. The call rings out.

You stare at your phone, confused. It's not like him to ignore your calls, especially not at this hour. It's pitch black with winter but it's still arguably early in the night. Chan is likely to still be awake, but it's unlikely he's doing any kind of official task. And it's so late that he would know to answer; you would never call him for something frivolous at this time of night. You call again.

No answer.

Your patience is running thin now. You consider calling your best friend, but she's out of town visiting family. Your other friend, Seohyeon, doesn't have a car, and her boyfriend's car is currently being repaired. The bus you sometimes take is about a fifteen minute walk down the street, but it'll have stopped running this far out by now, so you'd have to walk to a further bus stop and then go to the transportation terminal and connect, which would take over an hour. You could walk to the subway, you think, but you lost your subway card weeks ago and never got around to replacing it, and honestly it just seems like a whole ordeal you can't bring yourself to stomach right now. Chills go down your spine, and you can't tell if it's from the cold or from the increasing precarity of your situation.

You try the engine again. No dice.

You call Chan again. Voicemail again.

You lean your head on the steering wheel and take long, deep breaths. Outside your window, the wind is picking up, making the snow fall at a diagonal instead of straight down. It would be terrible to walk in, especially because the direction you need to go to get home would cause the snow to blow right in your face. Your throat is killing you, but your thermos of tea is long since empty. Maybe you should just go back into the work building and hunker down for the night. Maybe you should sit in the car and turn into an icicle. Your head is a foggy mess, thoughts twisting all around. You're getting hysterical again. You can feel yourself cracking to pieces.

Think, y/n. Who else can you call?

You're all out of people you know personally, but you could call an Uber. It's pricey and arguably unsafe, and you normally wouldn't, but these are extenuating circumstances. It solves the problem of being stranded, and again, you can deal with your car at a later point. And at least when Chan finally calls you back, you'll be safe at home, so he won't have to feel guilty about missing your calls three times.

You lean back in your seat and open the Uber app. Thankfully you still have it installed, and it still has all your info in it from the last time you called someone to take you home. Just as you're about to finish the transaction, your phone freezes. The screen flashes, then goes dark. You press the power button once, then again, frantically.

Your phone is dead.

Immediately, you scramble for your console, searching for a power cable to connect the phone to the car battery. Your cable is gone. You remember, horrified, that you took the cable out of your car because the one in your living room at home had started fraying. You meant to replace it but you never did. You're normally pretty good at leaving the house in the morning with it mostly charged.

But it's nighttime now, and your battery is dead. You have no charging cables, which means you can't call an Uber. You can't call anybody. And you can't even go to the subway now because your debit card is on your phone, so you can't refill your subway card.

A terrible despair fills you.

You have to walk home in a snowstorm.

As soon as the thought materializes, tears start to well in your eyes. This is too much for you to take, would be too much for you even if you'd had a perfectly good day today. This isn't fait. How can this be happening to you? Why is the universe punishing you like this? And when is it going to stop? Again you wish you could just sit in your car and turn into an icicle, let someone else defrost you in the morning. You think having a piano fall on your head would be better than this.

Eventually you manage to get yourself to calm down. Sitting in this car freezing isn't gonna do you any good. It'll only get colder by the hour. You need to walk to the far bus stop and catch another bus before they actually stop running, and you really are stranded instead of just doomed to walk forty minutes in a blizzard.

As if there's a difference, you think bitterly as you put your useless phone into your bag and bundle everything up. You put your gloves back on, and your hat. You step out of your car, slamming the door behind you, and zip up your jacket. Of course, you hadn't thought to wear a scarf today, so your face will just have to freeze. After only 30 seconds you feel your lips cracking.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay okay okay okay."

You set off in the direction of the bus.

-/-

The journey is long and cold. It's not so much the temperature as the fact that you never have the chance to get used to it because it just keeps getting holder as the night wears on. It takes a ridiculously long time to walk to the bus stop, because you're fighting headwind every step of the way. You want to close your eyes against the snow, but if you do that you'll veer off course or fall into the road or trip on an ice slick and die, so you brave the stinging and push forward. Then you wait at the bus stop so long that your already sore feet start to scream with pain. Your phone is dead, so there's no way for you to track the bus, but you conclude you must have just missed the previous one as it takes a full thirty minutes for it to come again. By the time the bus pulls up in front of you, your feet are almost buried, and when you take your seat, every part of you squelches and slides as the snow melts, drenching your clothes.

The bus is at least warm, and so is the transport center, but the second bus drops you off another twenty-five minute walk from your apartment and you're forced to walk- you guessed it!- uphill. Your calves are screaming from the exertion, and from cold, and from keeping your balance as you trudge through the piling snow. You have a death grip on your keys- if they were to fall out somewhere between work and home you would simply lie down on the ground and let the snow bury you. It would be more than you could take. But your keys stay in your tightly clenched fists, and soon your apartment building becomes visible through the dark and haze. You want to cry tears of relief but your tear ducts are frozen shut.

By the time you traipse up the steps of your apartment, you feel more popsicle than person. You are so cold. Your hands shake so much it takes you a few tries to get the keys from your pocket and stick them in the lock. You step inside, sagging as the heat blasts you in the face. All you want to do is collapse into bed and curl under your blankets where the world can't see you, to get a little bit of sleep before your torture begins anew tomorrow. The thought of going to work on Friday strikes a physical pain in you. You've barely survived today, and yet tomorrow looms terrible just out of reach.

You go to turn on the lights only to realize that the lights are already on. Your heart skips a beat. Did someone break into your apartment? Should you turn around and flee? But you don't have a car, and you certainly aren't walking back to the bus stop. You have nowhere to go.

A figure turns the corner and you flinch back, hands half-raised in some pathetic attempt to defend yourself-

It's Chan. He turns the corner and it's your boyfriend, standing on your tile floor in sweats and a big sweater, eyes bright and twinkling with how excited he is to see you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Chan says. "You're finally back. I saw you called earlier and got worried something was wrong."

You burst into tears. You're crying before you even know it, violent sobs that shake you and make water droplets roll off your soaked hair. Salt burns your frozen tear ducts, and snow is slipping down your collar, but all these small discomforts are overshadowed by the pure and all-consuming relief that your boyfriend is here in the flesh, asking after you and taking care of you, and you can finally stop fighting to keep it together. You can rest.

Chan makes a sound of alarm and rushes forward to grab you as you start to list.

"Baby? Hey, hey, what's wrong? Christ, you look terrible. Are you sick?" He tries to put his hand against your forehead but pulls it away just as fast. "You're cold as ice, y/n."

"I w-walked home," you try to explain. Your tongue is thick in your mouth, and it's hard to get enough air to speak through your sobs. "Car broke down, phone died, b-bus was late."

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry. That sounds terrible."

His validation of your misery just makes you cry harder. Chan pulls you into a fierce hug and you bury your face in his shoulder and absolutely lose it. All the stress of the last week crashes down on you at once, your misery overwhelming you. You grab at his clothes with gloved hands, and there's about four layers of clothes between you, and it's not enough, you want to be closer. But at the same time you can't make yourself pull away from Chan's embrace. He whispers soothing words in your ear, rocks you back and forth, presses closed mouth kisses to any part of you he can reach. He doesn't shush you, or try to calm you down. He just lets you have the emotional release he knows you sorely need.

When your cries start to slow, he gives you one final squeeze to catch your attention, and whispers, "We need to get you out of these clothes, hmm? Does that sound okay?"

You swallow the last of your sobs and nod morosely.

"Okay then. Let's take your jacket off. It's soaking wet by now."

You step back from Chan, still holding on to his arm as you stumble and sway. You're so tired. Standing up for even a second longer is too big of an ask.

"Just lean on me. It's okay, I won't let you fall."

Together, you unfasten and take off your heavy winter coat, letting it fall to the floor with the slush you dragged in. Chan is the one who crouches down to untie your shoes, and you lean on him for support as you remove one foot, then the other.

"Good job," he praises, pressing a kiss to your snow-soaked hair. "Let's get you warmed up now."

He leads you to the bathroom and starts the water running in the tub. You listlessly undress, leaning on the counter for support when you need it. While the tub is filling, Chan tries to leave, but you catch him by the shoulder on his way past you, stopping him in his tracks.

"Stay?"

"Of course I'll stay," he says. "I just want to get you a change of clothes."

You hesitantly let go of him, and he flashes you a reassuring smile before he slips out. You sit down on the toilet and wait patiently for his return, watching the water fill the tub slowly and feeling your thoughts move sluggishly in your brain.

The sound of the water stopping jolts you back to the present. Chan is back, in a regular t-shirt this time, leaning over the bathtub to make sure the water is the right temperature. Deeming it good enough, he turns back to you and stretches out a hand to you.

As soon as you sit down in the warm water, you feel about ten times better. The warmth unties some of the tension that coils your muscles, and it quells the shivering that had started up as you were sitting on the toilet waiting to be told what to do. Chan urges you to slide down so you're almost submerged, making sure almost all your body is enveloped in warmth, and starts dumping warm water over your head, soaking your hair and washing out the remnants of grime and slush. He's quiet as he does it, humming a low tune, and you close your eyes and let him do as he wants. When he's done, he taps your shoulder, and you sit up, mourning the loss of warmth as your back and chest are exposed to the bathroom air.

"Do you mind?" he asks. You shake his head, uncaring of what he's referring to. You'd let him do anything to you in this state. It turns out "anything" means washing your back, so you again sit still and let him do as he pleases. The pressure of his hands and the sound of his voice, still humming, gradually soothe your mind and body. You stop shivering and tune back into your surroundings.

He's subtly watching your face, so he sees when you come back to yourself and drops his neutral expression. "Back with me?"

You nod. The floaty feelings from being cold and hysterical are gone, but that just means the exhaustion of your day is hitting you full force. You hold out your hand for the washcloth so you can clean the rest of yourself, and he hands it over, but doesn't move to leave, which you appreciate. Now that you're calmer, you think you might be a little more embarrassed asking him to stay.

"I know you said this morning you were cursed, but I didn't think you meant literally," he tries to joke.

You let out a long breath. "I didn't think I meant literally either."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You shrug as you rub the washcloth along your legs, wincing when you remove your still-freezing toes from the water. "What can I say? It was a shit day at work with a shit ending."

"You said your car broke down."

You squeeze your eyes shut. You are not in the mood for this argument. "It just wouldn't start. I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Y/n..." He doesn't say anything more. He knows as well as you do that you'll get nowhere. It's enough to set you off though, now that your exhaustion is making you irritatble.

"It wouldn't have mattered either way if you'd picked up the phone when I called you," you snap. It's unfair and you know it, but before you can begin to feel remorse, Chan's face turns to one of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I still had it silenced from work and didn't realize. When I saw that you called me I tried to call back but the calls didn't go through."

"My phone died. That's why I didn't call an Uber."

Chan shakes his head. "I would call this comical if it wasn't so clearly stressing you out."

"You can still call it comical. Just not within earshot."

"Surely you think better of me than that."

"I do," you say, completely serious. "Sorry. I'm not mad you didn't answer. It's just been a shitty day."

Chan squeezes your shoulder in understanding. "It's alright. I get it."

"I'm really grateful you're here," you say, and you're getting choked up again, emotions all out of whack. "I've never been so happy to see anyone."

"You called three times. Since I couldn't get a hold of you, I hoped you'd still come home and we could talk here."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm exactly as good as you deserve." He leans down to kiss you, long and loving and warm, and the last of the chill in your bones slides away.

-/-

The next morning, Chan calls you in sick before you even wake up. He has to leave for the morning, but comes back around noon with ingredients to make you soup and tea, and rouses you for lunch with all the care and gentleness in the world.  He curls next to you in bed despite your protests that you'll get him sick, but then, it's not like you protest that hard. You're still feverish and needy, and maybe it's not the most ridiculous thing in the world to want to lie in your boyfriend's arms as you recover from what you're pretty sure is mild hypothermia mixed with the flu.

"We were gonna hang out this weekend," you say morosely. "Now I'm trapped in this bed and you're stuck taking care of me."

"Taking care of you is my favorite form of hanging out," he informs you, cleaning away the mug and bowl to bring back to the kitchen. "And hanging up the phone on your boss is my favorite passtime."

"You did not hang up on them," you gasp, hand over your mouth.

Chan shrugs, unbothered. "They seemed a little too annoyed about my request to not tow your car out of the parking lot. I made it very clear that it better be there when you get back on Monday or else."

"So selfless. You could've let them tow it and finally been victorious."

He turns from the kitchen and sits back down on the bed. "You like that car. I'm not going to keep insisting you get rid of it when it means so much to you. Even if I do blame it for the events of yesterday." You glare and he puts his hands up defensively. "If it's not my fault or your fault then I have to blame the car. Sorry not sorry."

"Blame the cursed spirit following me around," you say, sinking miserably into the blankets. "It possessed the engine of my car just to torment me."

"Even more reason to get rid of it."

You're feverish and tired, but the conversation makes you smile nonetheless. "Ask me again when my fever breaks if you still think I should keep it. Maybe it'll burn away the sentimental attachment."

"Don't get my hopes up."

You close your eyes as Chan kisses your forehead, and you slide easily into pleasant dreams.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where finding how you fit is a little like a puzzle-the 100,000 piece kind, not the 100 piece kind. or The twenty-seventh installment of the SKZ!Pack Prequel series

Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, Pack!Prequel, Skz!Pack Prequel, ABO, A/B/O, Omegaverse, Series, OT8, Bang Chan, Lee Minho, Seo Changbin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Han Jisung, Kim Seungmin, Yang Jeongin, Fluff, Angst, Skz imagines, Skz scenarios, FemReader

Genre: Light Angst, Fluff

A/N: I'm back! Sorry guys, I know it's been SOOOOO Long and yall have probably forgotten/given up on me, but I had to take a little sabbatical to keep my head above water in real life. But I've been here! Stalking and reading and checking comments and reblogs and messages. I love yall! <3 Thanks for being so patient with me!

Title: Call Me Anything at All, Just Don't Call Me Yours

“Dude, your fucking beta is killing me here.” 

You glance up as Jisung joins the cafeteria table, plopping down between Changbinn and Hyunjin, clearly frustrated about something, his voice a plaintive whine.

Changbin’s brow creases in slight confusion. “My beta? What, you mean Seungmin?” 

“Who else would I be fucking talking about?” Jisung grumbles, shooting a glare in the alpha’s direction, as he rips open the packet that contains his silverware with a little more force than necessary. 

“You, technically.” Felix points out helpfully from further down the table, giving Jisung a slightly teasing grin. 

“Yeah, ha ha, I’m killing myself, real funny, Lix.” Jisung mocks back, though his tone softens a little as he addresses the omega, because that’s just the effect Felix has on everyone. 

Jisung turns back to Changbin, slapping his palms down on the table. “But seriously, he’s weird as shit. Hot and cold all the time, man. I don’t ever know where I stand with him-not really-kind of like with Minho-hyung.” 

Beside you, Minho snorts softly. “Please, you’re always on thin fucking ice with me, Han Jisung. You know that.” 

Jisung shoots Minho an annoyed look, but continues badgering Changbin. “You gotta tell me the secret to crack the code, hyung. One second, I think we’re friends, the next, the guy barely has two words to say to me.” 

Changbin gives a slight shrug. “That’s just how Seungmin is.” 

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, trust me, Sungie, Seungmin is a tough nut to crack. We’ve been friends for a long time-study partners for longer-and there’s still days I think he’d rather murder me than be sat across the table from me. He’s hard to read, he keeps his feelings close to his chest.” 

“He’s also a slow mover.” Changbin points out. “Really takes his time to think things through, all the pros and cons, before he acts.” 

Minho snorts again, not looking up from his food. “Maybe he’s deciding the cons list is longer than the pros when it comes to being packmates with you, Jisung.” 

“Plus, he’s not all that affectionate. Skinship is kind of a struggle for him.” You remark thoughtfully, an observation you’ve had the longer you’ve gotten to be around Seungmin as a packmate, and not just a library buddy. 

He really only lets Changbin touch him openly. Maybe it’s a side effect of the whole moonmate thing. 

Biology. 

Jisung takes a swig of his soda and considers for a moment, furrowing his brow. “Well, have you guys been-” He clears his throat, motioning slightly with his hands in a flapping motion toward Changbin. “-you know, intimate?” 

You clear your throat at that, interjecting, trying to save Changbin the embarrassment of answering that question. “Intimacy can be a lot of things, Jisungie, you know, like when you and I and Seungmin showered together, or when Chan scents us, or trusting someone enough to talk to them about difficult subjects-” Hyunjin leans around the beta and stares directly at Changbin now. “No, he’s asking if you’ve fucked.” 

Down the table, Chan chokes on his food, and Jeongin openly covers a cackle with a well timed cough. 

Next to you, Minho mutters beneath his breath, “Jesus Christ.” 

Changbin clears his throat hard, and you note the tips of his ears going a bright red. “Well, yeah.” He gives a shrug, as if it’s not a big deal, but the way his muscles stiffen tells you he’d rather be anywhere but here right now, talking about this.

“You don’t have to talk about this, Bin-” Chan starts softly, shooting Jisung a warning look that practically screams head alpha.

Changbin waves him off, and Chan’s hackles visibly relax a little.

“He likes you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Changbin assures Jisung, throwing an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair with a large hand. “All of you. He’s just a little more cautious when it comes to showing it. With me, there’s the weird biological pull of moonmates or whatever, but with the rest of you, you just gotta be patient. But he likes you. He’s told me.” 

Jisung sighs, relaxing slightly at the alpha’s touch. “Fine. As long as there’s hope that one day we can fuck in your studio, I can live with that.” 

Changbin removes his arm so quickly from around the beta’s shoulders that it’s like he’s been burned. “Please don’t do that.” 

Jisung shoots him a wink. “No promises.” 

“Apparently he’s into degradation in bed if that makes you feel any better.” Hyunjin remarks offhandedly, picking at his salad with his fork. “You probably couldn’t handle that anyway.” 

Changbin chokes a little, glaring over Jisung’s head at the luna. “Hyun, you promised me when I told you that in confidence-” Changbin’s voice drops to a hiss. “-that you wouldn’t talk about it!” 

Hyunjin gives a slight shrug, glancing around at everyone’s stunned reactions. “What? There’s no secrets in the pack right?” 

Jisung’s jaw is on the floor. 

“He what?” 

“Oh my god.” Chan groans from down the table, fingers already kneading between his brows, staving off an oncoming headache. “This is not appropriate lunchroom conversation-” 

“Okay, okay.” You wave your hands. “You’re gonna give Chan an aneurysm. Let’s table the kink talk for a more private time and location, okay?” 

“Hah.” Jeongin snorts softly. “Table.” 

Minho elbows him hard. 

******

You’re watching Jisung practice something on his skateboard in front of the dorms-a kickflip maybe? You can’t remember what he called it-chin in hand, open textbook unread in your lap. 

“Shit.” Jisung swears as the skateboard clatters away from him once more, and he sighs, tucking it under his arm and coming to sit down beside you on the cold concrete of the steps. 

He bumps his shoulder into yours. “Why the long face?” 

You glance sidelong at him, wrinkling your nose slightly. “I don’t have a long face. I’m just thinking.” 

He arches a brow. “Okay, so what are you thinking so deeply about then?” 

You sigh, running a few fingers over the page of the textbook in your lap, considering for a brief moment. “I was thinking about Seungmin.” 

“Ah.” Jisung nods, tilting his head slightly. “What, about the fact that he’s into being called shit in bed? Because I for one did not see that coming.” 

“No!” You say a little too quickly, cheeks heating even despite the cool nip of the air. “No.” You repeat, a little more levelly this time. “Just-about how I relate, to what you said. I never really know how he feels about things.” 

Jisung leans back on his hands beside you, staring out at the campus for a moment. Finally, he says, “Yeah, he’s kind of a weird dude, huh? I mean, I know he’s into Changbin, but I don’t really know if he’s that into the whole idea of the pack.”

You glance sidelong at the beta sat beside you, and you note the way he bites his bottom lip, fingers drumming along the skateboard held in his lap. 

“I was kind of excited to have another beta around.” Jisung admits a little softly with a sigh, glancing down at the chipped orange paint that adorns his nails currently, courtesy of Hyunjin. “I dunno, until I moved to university, I never really spent a lot of time around others like me. And it’s nice, the dorms and the friends, but there’s something about having a potential packmate who just gets it that’s comforting, you know?” 

You nod, reaching out to put one of your gloved hands over his. “Yeah, I do. I know you’ve been through a lot, with the whole beta thing, and I was hopeful Seungmin could help you through some of the stuff you’re still dealing with.” 

Jisung gives you a slight smile, but it’s tight and doesn’t quite reach his large dark eyes. “I don’t even know if the guy likes me, noona, or if he just puts up with my company because of Changbin.” 

You sigh, glancing down at where your gloved fingers rest over Jisung’s chapped, red ones. “Well, at least he didn’t straight up tell you that he didn’t feel like that about you. That’s something.” 

Jisung snorts. “That’s because I didn’t ask like you did.” 

You swallow. “Yeah, well, I’m an idiot.” You huff out, glancing over at him and it’s your turn to give him the hint of a smile that doesn’t quite feel completely real or genuine. “I mean, I told him I loved him, and he didn’t say it back. So maybe his feelings really haven’t changed.” 

Jisung gives a slight shrug, and then knocks his shoulder into yours once more. The smell of detergent is strong in your nose, as if his beta is subconsciously trying to put out pheromones to soothe your obviously agitated alpha. 

“Hey. You said it yourself-the guy’s an enigma. We just gotta give him the time and space to figure it all out on his own.” 

You sigh, long and hard. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Jisung leans his head on your shoulder, and you bury your nose into the soft knitted fabric of his beanie, breathing him in for a lingering moment. 

He squeezes your fingers. “If it’s any consolation, I said it back, remember? And it’s still true.” 

You give a little laugh at that, kissing the top of his head. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.” 

You squeeze his fingers back in return, and then nudge the round, reddened apple of his cheek with your shoulder with a slight hint of a smile. 

“Now c’mon, that kickflip of yours isn’t gonna learn itself.” 

******

“I dunno, maybe I’m pushing too hard. Putting expectations on everyone that are unrealistic.” 

Yeosang glances over at you, breaths coming in harsh little pants in the cold morning air, his hands on his hips as he walks a few loose circles around where you stretch. 

“Betas are tricky. When Mingi joined the pack, I swear to god, the hyungs almost drove themselves crazy trying to figure out what he was thinking.” 

He drops down beside you on the sidewalk, leaning over to stretch out one long arm along the line of his leg, before he switches to the other side effortlessly. 

He’s barely panting from our run, skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat in the early morning rays of weak sunlight. 

You blow out a breath, leaning your head back slightly to stare at the sky. “Jisung is losing his mind. He had this whole grand vision of what having another beta in the pack would mean, and Seungmin’s just-” You hesitate, considering for a moment, before you sigh again. “-not that.” 

Yeosang’s gaze flicks over to me, and he makes a little sound of understanding under his breath. “Mm. Yeah, when we all study together, I can tell the kid’s a little harder to read than most. Even for a beta.” He shifts, coming to his feet again as he rolls his ankles a little, then his arms and his neck, glancing down at me. “But he seems nice. And he seems to be into Changbin, so that’s a plus.” 

“That’s the thing though-” You admit, standing up too now, rolling your shoulders for a moment, before you tuck your earbuds back into your pocket. “-he likes Changbin, but does he like the rest of us?” 

Yeosang moves to stand in front of you , reaching up to push some loose strands of hair back from your jaw with a long finger, chilled from the morning air. He gives you a slight smile. “Wolves aren’t solitary creatures, babe. You know that. And with how smart Seungmin is-and how obsessed with biology-he knows that too. Just give him some time to warm up. It’s probably overwhelming, especially for a seemingly solitary guy like him.” 

You groan. “Fuck, you’re right, but do you have to be?” 

Yeosang chuckles at that, moving to bump his shoulder into yours as you turn to follow the sidewalk back toward campus and the bus stop. 

“Yes. It’s one of my many talents.” 

You arch a brow at him. “Being right?” 

Yeosang grins. “Never being wrong.” 

You roll your eyes and elbow him in the side. “They’re the same thing, idiot.” 

He laughs in response. “Trust me, they’re really not.” You walk in silence for a few moments, shoes scuffing the concrete, hands tucked into the pockets of your jackets, and then Yeosang asks, “Have you tried talking to him about all of this?” 

You scoff a little, shaking your head. “No, because what the hell am I supposed to say?” You move to walk in front of him, taking backward steps as you face him, pitching your voice into something akin to a fake version of your own. “‘Hey, Seungmin, weird question, but like, are you into us? Also, just wondering, but have your feelings changed about me? Oh, and Jisung would really like to fuck you, but he’s nervous you don’t even really like him, and by the way, Changbin totally told everyone you like to be degraded in bed.’” 

Yeosang’s eyes widen at that last part, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Wait, really?” 

You wave him off. “Yeah, well, technically Changbin told Hyunjin, who told everyone else, but that’s beside the point.” 

Yeosang whistles beneath his breath as we continue to walk. “Shit. Okay. Didn’t see that one coming, but good for him.” 

His tone is laced with slight surprise still, but mostly just open admiration and appreciation. 

You pull your phone from your pocket and glance at the time, groaning slightly. “Fuck. I have to go. I’m late for a lab and then I have a study session at the lib.” 

Yeosang arches a brow at that, a slight smirk coming to his full lips. “Oh, with you know who?” 

You stare him down, expression and voice deadpan. “No, I am not meeting Voldemort, The Dark Lord, for a study session, Sang. That’s just stupid.” 

Yeosang rolls his dark eyes, reaching out to shove you, but you dodge the halfhearted attack easily. 

“I’m talking about a certain beta.” 

“I know that.” You retort back, rolling your own eyes now. “Besides, even if Voldemort went here, he’d never be in the sciences department. Probably like arts and humanities or something.” 

“Or dance.” Yeosang points out thoughtfully. 

His suddenly wide eyed gaze meets your own, his mouth in a small ‘o.’

“Minho.” You both say together. 

Yeosang grins as you both laugh, reaching the bus stop. He bumps his shoulder into yours once more affectionately, as you separate to take different buses. 

“Good luck with your study session, babe.” He points a stern finger in your direction. “Talk to him.” 

You roll your eyes and wave him off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll consider it. Say hi to Voldie for me when you pick up Hwa, will you?” 

Yeosang’s grin widens as he gives you a little salute. “Will do.” 

*****

“You’re staring again.” Seungmin comments without looking up from the page he’s working on, his pencil scratching rhythmically in the quiet of the library. 

You clear your throat, dropping your eyes back to your own textbook. “What? No, I’m not-” 

Seungmin sighs, shutting his notebook, and pushes his glasses up on top of his head as he angles to face you, expression unreadable. 

“All right. Out with it.” 

You’re taken off guard, glancing up at him in a slight panic, like a deer caught in headlights, eyes going wide as your mouth opens and closes a few times before you finally manage to choke out, “Out with what? I’m good. Fine even.” 

Seungmin snorts at that. “You haven’t stopped rereading that same page for the last half an hour. And I’m pretty sure you’ve been studying me more than anything else.” 

“Plus your scent is all wacked out.” He says with a slight wrinkle of his nose. “Even my limited faculties can tell that much.” 

You sigh, glancing down at the open book in your lap before you close it and set it aside, tapping your pen along the table for a brief moment as you consider how to word what you want to say. 

Finally, you get out softly, “Jisung is worried.” 

Seungmin’s brow ticks up a bit at that. “About me?” 

You give a slight shrug, not really looking at him, gaze on the pen flicking between your fingers. “I guess? He’s just worried because he doesn’t really know how you feel-” You glance at him then, and then away again. “-none of us do.” 

The eyebrow goes up another notch. “How I feel? About what?” 

You sigh, a slight sound of frustration now. “About everything? About him, about us, about the pack, about-” I throw a hand out. “-all of it.” 

You tap the pen down a little harder than necessary to punctuate the end of your sentence. “In case you haven’t noticed-” You point out in a mutter beneath your breath. “-you’re not the easiest guy to get a read on.” 

There is brief silence for a moment, and then Seungmin admits quietly, “Yeah, I know.” 

You flick your gaze up to his then, and see a hint of vulnerability in the depths of his dark eyes before he reaches up and scrubs across his face with the palm of his hand. 

“Look, (Y/N)-” He says on a sigh, and you tense up, preparing yourself for what he’s about to say next. Judging by the slight hint of burnt bitterness that now mars his orangey citrus scent, it’s probably not going to be what you want to hear.

Great, can’t wait to break the news to Jisung that the only other beta in the pack doesn’t even wanna be here. 

Seungmin smooths his palms on the table in front of him, staring at the pages of notes scrawled in his messy handwriting. “I know there are expectations. I knew that coming in. I know Jisung has expectations especially, and from what he’s told me about his past and how his parents wanted an alpha for a son, and all the struggles he went through as a beta to try and fit in, I don’t blame him. But I-” 

Seungmin gives a little shake of his head, and his gaze meets yours once more, lips pulled into the hint of a thin line. “I never went through anything like that. I was a beta, born into a family happy to be betas, and I never even thought twice about it. Never felt like I was somehow lacking, or less than, because it was all just biology. Nothing more. So I don’t really know how to-” He hesitates, seeming to struggle with his thoughts for a moment. 

“-relate.” You finish for him softly, and he gives a slight jerk of a nod. 

“Yeah.” He agrees. “But I’ve found I’ve had that problem all my life, not just with Jisung, not just with this, with everything.” He gives a tiny shake of his head, and a humorless sardonic smile curves his lips in the slightest way. “I don’t know how to relate to people. I never have. Maybe I’m missing some integral part of my own biology, because I know better than anyone that wolves are not loners, they’re pack oriented, but I’ve always always preferred to be alone. A lone wolf, I guess you’d say.” 

You study him for a moment and then you say softly, “There’s nothing wrong with that, Seungmin.” He heaves a sigh and leans back, staring up at the ceiling above us. “I guess not, but I guess, what I’m trying to say is-” He glances at you, expression going flat. “-I don’t know how to let you all in to understand me, if I don’t even understand myself.” 

Before you can second guess yourself, you reach out and cover one of his hands on the table with your own. “Hey.” When he looks at you, you give him the hint of a smile. “We’re all figuring this shit out, just the way you are.” 

He blows out a breath through his nose, almost like a sardonic sort of laugh. “Yeah? Well, you guys seem to have shit pretty figured out from my viewpoint.” 

You shake your head. “We don’t, trust me.” Your lips curve slightly as you stare at him, holding his gaze. “We’re a mess, we’re just pretty good at hiding it. Well, most of the time.” 

Seungmin stares at you for a long, silent moment. 

“I want to be what Jisung needs.” He finally admits, so softly it’s almost just a breath. “I want to be what Changbin wants. I want to be-” He blows another harsh breath out through his nose and drops your gaze. “-pack, but I’m just not sure where to begin. This is all new territory for me, and while I’m all about new discoveries in the scientific fields, my personal life is another matter entirely.” 

You give a little laugh at that, and note that he hasn’t pulled his hand back from your touch yet. 

That’s a good sign. 

“You don’t have to have it all figured out today. Just one step at a time.” You encourage softly, leaning down so you can meet his ducked gaze. “You can do that, right?” 

Seungmin sighs, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

“Good.” You sit back and blow out a breath, glancing down at your study materials spread out before you. “Now I don’t know about you, but I can’t study anymore tonight or I might go blind.” 

Seungmin nods, surprisingly, and begins to pack up his materials. 

After another brief moment of silence, he asks suddenly, “What about you?” 

You shove another handful of pens and papers into your backpack without looking up. “What about me?” 

Seungmin makes a noise that clearly signifies he thinks you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you can feel his annoyed stare burning holes in the side of your head. 

“You know, don’t you wanna know how I feel about you? Now that I’ve had some time?” 

You freeze, swallowing, and then force yourself to resume your previous activities of packing up and getting ready to leave. 

“I mean, not really. I figure you’ll tell me that when you’re ready.” 

Lies. 

You wanna know so bad it’s driving yourself and your wolf crazy. 

You busy yourself with lining up your highlighters back in their designated case, just so your antsy fingers have something to do. 

“You know-” Seungmin states suddenly, voice even, tone neutral. “For a long time, I thought I was asexual.” Your eyes jerk up in surprise to meet his own, lips parting slightly. 

“You don’t have to-” 

He waves you off, pulling his glasses off his head and carefully folding them to stow in their case as he talks. 

“No, it’s fine. I want to.” He glances to you then, a slight smile curving his lips. “I’m supposed to be pushing myself right? Opening up so you can get to know me better?” 

You swallow and give a slight nod. 

“You know, the whole lone wolf thing from before? I didn’t really ever feel the need to be involved with anyone like that. Didn’t think I needed it, felt complete without it. And then-” He sighs, and a slight flicker of annoyance crosses his pretty features. “I met Changbin.” 

“Changbin.” You breathe in slight agreement, and your lips twitch upward a little at the other alpha’s name. “Yeah, he tends to have that effect on people.” 

“Mm.” Seungmin nods in slight agreement. “So then, I thought, well, maybe it’s just biology, but maybe I don’t really want to be alone, not quite like that. But then I think-” He considers you for a long moment. “-I met you, and we became friends, and I liked your company, but then you asked me if I could ever like you like I liked Changbin.” You cringe slightly at that. “Oh god, can we just pretend that conversation never happened?” 

“No.” Seungmin responds back immediately. He arches a brow. “It made me think you know. About myself. About what I wanted. It was good for me.” 

“Glad to help.” You mumble back, your cheeks flushed slightly in an irritated sort of hot feeling blush. 

“I considered that maybe, after you asked me that, that I was just into guys.” Seungmin admits in a softer sort of voice, but still matter of factly. 

“Oh, so it’s my gender, got it.” You retort back, avoiding his gaze. 

“No.” He shakes his head at that. “I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t really care about gender, not in the long run of things. I think I’m more into people themselves, their personalities, and how they handle mine.” “Great, so it’s just my personality then.” You blurt out, throwing out your hands now. 

“No.” Seungmin repeats a little bit more firmly, sharper. “You’re not listening to me.” 

You give a little sharp laugh at that. “It’s really fucking hard to listen to you when we’ve been studying shit that turns my brain to mush for the last four hours.” 

Seungmin’s hand covers your own, and you freeze, gaze flicking to him, mouth slightly agape, words instantly dying off. 

“I-” He says firmly, taking in a sort of shaky breath, his fingers still resting a little bit awkwardly on top of your own. “-like you. You, (Y/N). I like the way you make me feel accepted, I like that you listen to my ramblings about scientific findings, I like that you don’t push me to go further than I’m comfortable, and I like that we started as friends first, and you’ve given me time and patience to explore where this could potentially go. At my own pace.” 

You stare at him for another beat and then, “I’m sorry. If what I said in the shower made you uncomfortable.” 

His lips curve slightly at that, his nose wrinkling with the hint of a smile. “It didn’t. In fact, it kind of surprised me that I liked hearing it. Just-” He blows out a breath. “-give me some time to figure out my shit okay?” 

You nod, curling your fingers around his own. “Yeah, I can do that.” 

Seungmin nods, and removing his hand from yours, begins to move to pack away the rest of his things. “Now c’mon, I promised Jisung we’d be in time to watch a movie with him.” 

You grin, standing up and slinging your backpack over your shoulder. “It’s gonna be one of those cheesy action flicks he loves, you know that right?” 

Seungmin sighs, but his voice is filled with affectionate amusement. “Yeah, I know.” He glances at you with a lift of his brow. “But anything for our boy, right?” 

You grin back at him, knocking your arm into his as you walk. “Anything for our boy.” 

As you walk down the stairs that lead out of the library, shoulder to shoulder, he slides his hand into yours. 

[bellaxgiornata]

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Nine]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader, mentions/fear of miscarriage

a/n: Long time no update, I know. I was stalled with this fic because it wasn't supposed to be long, but then it grew into something bigger and needed a new direction and it took me a bit to figure that out. Now I think I've found it. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt’s fingers slowly ran over the braille document on the table before himself, his mind struggling to focus on the work he was supposed to be accomplishing right now. He'd promised Fog yesterday at the office that he'd help him sift through some more information for a case they'd been working on first thing in the morning, but his mind just couldn't stay on task. Repeatedly he'd had to run his fingers over the letters just to get a couple of them to form words in his mind, but then in mere seconds he'd forgotten what he'd just read.

But how could he focus on work right now with what he was doing later today? The only thing he could think about since the moment he’d woken up and shuffled out of his bedroom this morning was you. Because today was Saturday. It was the day you’d agreed to meet with him for that coffee where you’d planned to have an important conversation with him. And as much as Matt had tried not to let himself hope for too much to come from this talk, he couldn't stop that hope from growing inside of himself. It had been steadily growing brighter and brighter ever since you’d first agreed to meet the other night. 

As his fingers traced the braille letters of the same line on the page yet again, Matt could feel the weight of Foggy’s eyes on him from across his kitchen table. He could tell Foggy had begun to notice his behavior, his increasing annoyance becoming apparent in the way his fingers had been steadily tapping faster against the table in less of an absent fidget and more of an agitated rhythm.

Once more Matt tried to read the line again, retracing his fingers over it as he leaned further over the document, as if getting closer to it would somehow help him to concentrate. But then he found his mind once more diverting from its task, instead thinking of himself sitting with you over coffee in only a matter of hours. Because soon he'd actually be talking to you, hearing your voice again, possibly even the sound of your laughter that he so sorely missed. And if he was lucky, maybe you'd let him hold you in his arms again, even if it was just to say goodbye.

“Alright,” Foggy said in exasperation, slumping back in his chair. “What is it that's got you so distracted? Because I've been here for almost a half an hour now and you haven't even read the page that's been sitting in front of you for just as long. Is it some Daredevil thing that's on your mind? Because buddy, that can wait until later tonight. We have actual legal work to accomplish right now.”

Matt released a defeated sigh, sitting back in his chair and pushing the document away from himself as his attention shifted over to Foggy. He felt guilty for not being able to focus on work–a problem he'd truly struggled with for far longer than just this morning if he was being honest. Ever since he'd learned you were pregnant his mind was often elsewhere.

“It’s nothing to do with that. It's just–I'm meeting with her this morning. To talk over coffee,” Matt told him. 

Foggy suddenly sat up straight in his chair, the annoyance in his body language immediately disappearing. He said your name in question, the tone of it hopeful.

“Yeah,” Matt acknowledged with a nod. “She agreed to talk and that's all I can focus on. I'm sorry, Fog. I just–just can't think about anything else because I don't want to mess this up with her. I doubt she'll give me another chance to sit down with her.”

“I don't know man,” Foggy disagreed. “I think she wants things to work between you both. From what I hear, it sounds like she's just scared.”

Matt pulled a face, his head canting to the side. “Scared?” he repeated. “Scared of what?”

“Of things not working out between you both,” Foggy answered. “I think you both really want the same things. And from what I’ve heard, I think she’s scared you might hurt her again.”

Matt frowned as he shifted his attention away from Foggy, his right hand reaching up to messily run through his hair. He wasn't certain of the truth in everything Foggy had just said. Matt had a feeling that he wanted far more from you than you wanted from him. And that scared him . But he absolutely refused to ever be in a situation to let you down again. He’d learned from his mistake–he would never break a promise to you again.

“So what exactly are you both planning to talk about this morning?” Foggy questioned. “Just the baby? Or…is there talk about you two getting back together?”

Matt's hand ran another pass through his hair in nervous frustration. Of course that's one of the things he’d wanted to discuss with you, but he was certain that particular topic wasn't even on the agenda for this morning. It probably wasn’t even remotely on your mind. It didn’t matter if you’d asked him to hold you in your bed the other night after the scare you’d had because he’d known exactly what that had meant. He was just happy that at the very least, you found his presence comforting still.

“I think we're just talking about me being more involved with the baby,” he answered. “That’s all the talk is about. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy we're even discussing that after the mess I made of things over the past few months. Because I do want to be more involved in things with her and our daughter even if she hasn’t been born yet. But I…”

Matt trailed off, the frown deepening on his lips as his focus dropped down towards the table. He heard Foggy lean forward, resting his elbows along the surface of it as his pulse accelerated in anticipation.

“But what?” he pushed.

Licking his lips nervously, Matt's eyes slowly closed. “I want more,” he admitted aloud. “And I know after how I messed things up that I don't deserve it with her. She's far too good for me, Fog. I get it. But I still want it.”

“Want what, exactly?” he asked. “The relationship?”

“Yes,” Matt answered immediately. “And I still want her to move in with me like we had been planning before everything fell apart and she found out she was pregnant,” Matt confessed, finally bearing his heart to Foggy. “I want her here . I want to set up the crib in our room that’ll be our daughter’s bed. I want them all in that room,” Matt said, gesturing behind Foggy to his bedroom, “where I can sleep next to both of them every single night. Knowing they're both safe with me. And I want to make space in the closet and the dresser for both of their things. I want to accidentally pull out baby pajamas instead of a tie in the mornings.” A sad smile tugged at Matt’s lips as he imagined everything in his mind while he spoke. “I want her to keep that growing stockpile of diaper boxes in her apartment right over there,” he continued, gesturing a hand towards the closet past his couch where he kept his Daredevil suit. “And I want to wake up and make coffee to the sound of a baby babbling.”

Tears were beginning to sting at Matt’s eyes as a flood of emotion began to well inside of him. He'd never realized quite how much he had been wanting until he’d suddenly given voice to it.

“I just want her to be here so that I can make her breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening,” he continued softly. “I want her here so I can rub her back when she's throwing up or her feet when they're sore after work. I just–”

He paused, wincing. He found himself wanting so much that he never realized he'd even wanted until you had come into his life. But how would he ever be able to have any of that? After how he'd ended things with you and walked out on you when you'd begged him to stay? How did he get you to still move in with him? Let him be a part of your life again? Trust him again?

“I just want it all,” he whispered, fighting back the burn of tears. “But that's not what this talk is about today, and I understand that.”

“You could still tell her,” Foggy suggested gently. “You could still let her know how you feel, Matt. Be open with her about your feelings.”

Matt shook his head, his heart feeling leaden in his chest. “No,” he told him. “I think that's the last thing she wants to hear right now. I can't push my luck, Fog. Maybe someday I can tell her all of that, but I don't think today is that day.”

“I don't know, man,” Foggy countered.

“I can't ask for too much when I don't deserve it,” Matt said. “She needs to know I'm serious first, so that's my focus. I'll take whatever she gives me and show her that I mean it when I say I want to be a part of things. That I’ll really be there when she needs me.”

“For the record, I don’t exactly agree with that route,” Foggy told him. “But if you think telling her how you feel will somehow push her away instead of bring her closer, then I’m not about to argue because you’re obviously not going to listen. I’m just happy to hear that you’re both sitting down together to talk finally. We’re all rooting for the both of you to figure this all out, Matt.”

Matt’s attention focused on Foggy across the table from him. He heard the truth in his words with how steady his heartbeat had been. It felt good to know at least his friends believed in him. But he knew it would feel amazing to finally have you believe in him again, too.

You didn’t have to search hard to find Matt. He’d sent you a text when you’d left your apartment and made your way to the coffee shop letting you know that he’d already arrived early and grabbed a table. And now there he was, sitting in a corner booth with a coffee in front of himself and another across the table from him. A wave of nerves hit you at the sight of him in his dark jeans and snug-fitting gray shirt, your stomach twisting anxiously as the reality of sitting down with him actually hit you. It had been so long since you’d both really sat down together to talk; the only other time had been earlier this week on the night he’d shown up at your apartment because he’d heard your panic. But that had been under entirely different circumstances than this. 

Matt’s head instantly spun in your direction as the door to the shop shut behind you. You figured he’d probably picked up on your strong reaction to seeing him, and that only increased the nerves running loose in your stomach. Beginning to make your way over towards the corner booth where he sat, his covered gaze focused on you, you chewed your bottom lip while awkwardly maneuvering your small bump between the tables and chairs. Briefly you were reminded of your third date at this very coffee shop with Matt. The memory of it had you longing to be able to slide into the booth beside him and wrap your arms around him now, desperate for some of his strength to transfer to you. 

“Hey, Matt,” you greeted lightly, slowly sliding into the bench across from him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me.”

A timid smile spread over his lips as he shook his head. “Not at all. Though I already ordered you a coffee.” His hand gestured to the cup now in front of you. “Vanilla latte, iced. I hope that’s okay. If not, I can grab you something else.”

“No,” you said, a nervous smile forming on your own lips as you shook your head, getting comfortable in the booth. “It’s perfect, actually. Thank you. I’ve been on an iced vanilla latte kick for weeks now.”

The smile on Matt’s mouth turned sheepish as you reached out and picked up the ice cold cup. You drank down a sip of the coffee, reveling in how good it tasted as you watched Matt’s hand awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck.

“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Karen mentioned that the other day actually. I figured it would be a safe bet.”

“Oh,” you said. “That makes sense then.”

Lowering the cup back to the table, you shifted anxiously in your seat. Normally things had never been this tense between you and Matt, but you weren’t certain how to navigate whatever the pair of you were now. You weren’t entirely sure how to just be around him anymore, especially not while currently carrying his child.

“So how’re things at the office?” you asked him.

“Good,” Matt answered. “Busy. There’s a handful of cases that we’re working on and I think we’re all realizing we may have overextended ourselves, but we’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, your finger toying with the condensation on the outside of your plastic cup. “That’s good. How’s uh–” you paused, not certain you were allowed to be asking him something so personal, but the question had already started to come out before you could stop it, “–how’re things going at night? With, well, you know…?”

Matt sent you a small smile, his covered gaze focused on you from across the table. Your eyes dropped back down to your coffee cup, your heart beating a little harder. You forgot the effect he had on you, but with him sitting right there after months apart, you couldn’t entirely ignore it now. 

You missed him.

“Also good,” he answered. “Not quite so busy, but still…busy.”

“Right,” you muttered awkwardly.

How the hell were you supposed to talk about the baby growing inside of you when you could barely look at him to discuss normal pleasantries? It felt so wrong being so awkward with him as you sat across the table. You found yourself struggling with this meeting more than you’d anticipated, wishing things just felt like they used to be between you both.

“How’re you doing?” Matt asked softly.

The gentle tone had caught you off guard, your gaze flitting back up towards his face. He looked just as nervous as you felt. And Matthew Murdock didn’t generally get nervous.

“Do you want the polite response I usually give people?” you half-joked. “Or do you want the honest answer to that question?”

“The honest one,” he replied.

“Well,” you began, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee cup, “I’m tired all the time. I’ve probably finally reached your level of tired.” 

You paused, smiling down at your cup when you heard him laugh lightly across the table from you. The sound had a warm, pleasant sensation gradually settling in your stomach.

“I almost always have a headache I can never seem to get rid of,” you continued. “I’m guessing that’s something to do with the hormones and increased blood flow. And I feel like my lower back has a personal vendetta against me as of late.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, amusement in his tone. “How’s the nausea?”

You shrugged a shoulder, your eyes once more returning to his face. Internally you cursed him for being so handsome. It only made you long to grab him and kiss him like you used to be able to. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore that thought.

“Better,” you answered. “Not magically gone like I somehow assumed it would be once I got out of the first trimester, but I don’t want to vomit all the time. Though uh–” 

You paused as a grin spread over your mouth, noticing how it was quickly mirrored on Matt’s face as his head tilted curiously to the side. That flutter of warmth in your stomach felt like it was steadily heating you from the inside at the sight of it.

“What?” he pressed curiously.

“So when you’re pregnant,” you began, the grin remaining on your lips, “your sense of smell heightens. Also because of the hormones, I assume. But I’d wanted to tell you about that little symptom the moment I started experiencing it because I figured if anyone else would understand how gross passing a dumpster smells, it’d be you.”

“You’re certainly not wrong,” he agreed with a chuckle.

“And that symptom hasn’t exactly disappeared yet,” you told him, your grin having grown into a smile. “So some things still make me want to puke. Particularly the smell of bell peppers for some unknown reason.”

“Duly noted. I’ll make sure not to bring any near you,” Matt teased. “But I’ve read that ginger helps–”

You raised a hand, cutting him off and shaking your head as you pulled a face. Matt’s brows furrowed beneath his dark lenses, his mouth suddenly closing.

“Sorry,” you said, your stomach churning. “It’s just that I tried using those hard candies they make for morning sickness so much that the ‘g’ word now makes me immediately want to puke. They’ve had the reverse effect on me.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, the smile falling from his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“That’s alright,” you assured him, picking up the cup of coffee from in front of you again. “I didn’t expect you to.”

That uncomfortable, awkward silence fell over the pair of you again. You took a sip from your cup, watching as Matt’s left hand on the table began anxiously tapping along it. Swallowing down your drink, you supposed you should probably discuss the real reason you were both here.

“So uh,” you began, clearing your throat as you set the coffee cup back onto the table, “we should probably talk about the baby.”

Matt nodded, a tense smile now drawing itself across his lips. As if he was nervous about this topic of conversation.

“You were saying the other night that you wanted to be more involved?” you asked. 

“Yes,” he answered earnestly. “If that’s alright with you, of course. I know she’s not exactly here yet, but I’d like to be as a part of things as I can be.”

Eyes dropping back down to your coffee cup, your index finger smeared a drop of condensation along the side of it. There was a heaviness in the air between you both, one you didn’t need Matt’s senses to detect.

“How involved?” you asked softly. “You want updates if something is going on or…do you want to actually attend appointments with me?”

Matt perked up in the booth across from you, the movement drawing your attention back over to him. He was sitting a little straighter now, something hopeful written across the features of his face even with his glasses on. 

“Would that be alright?” he asked. “If I wanted to go to some of your appointments with you?”

“I suppose so,” you answered slowly. “But I don’t know how interesting they’d be for you. Unlike the rest of us, you don’t need technology to hear her heartbeat. I’m assuming you’ve already been listening to her since I got here.”

Another sheepish smile slipped onto his lips. “You wouldn’t be wrong,” he admitted. “I’ve grown quite fond of the sound of her heartbeat. Especially hearing it beating so close to your own.”

A flush crept up your neck, your gaze dropping back down to your coffee as one hand nervously began spinning your cup on the table. You hadn’t expected him to tell you that, or for how it made you feel. 

“I have an appointment in a couple of weeks,” you told him, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “I can let you know the details when it gets closer if you’d like to come with me.”

“I’d like that,” he replied. “A lot, actually.”

Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, your gaze still averted from him, you weren’t sure how to broach the next thing you’d considered bringing up. Matt had wanted to be more involved, but how much more did he truly mean? 

“So you also said that you wanted to be around when I didn’t necessarily need you,” you began carefully, your eyes slowly drawing back up to his face. “What’d you mean by that exactly?”

You saw the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his finger tapping faster atop the table. His other hand reached up to readjust his glasses along the bridge of his nose before he spoke.

“I know we’re not together,” he answered slowly, “but I’d like to spend time together. With both of you. If that’s okay? Not–not all the time. Like I said, I know we’re not together and I’m not going to delude myself into thinking things are other than what they are right now. But I’d like to help you out if I could. Cooking or cleaning occasionally so you can just rest. Grabbing groceries if you need. Anything like that.”

“You…really want that?” you asked, eyes narrowing curiously. “Especially with how busy you are?”

“I want to help,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly, aware that having him around you more often would only make you miss him more. But if things were ever going to progress back to how they once were between you two, you figured this was a good first step to reaching that.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His dark brows jumped up onto his forehead in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “If we’re going to figure this parenting thing out together, I suppose we should start figuring it out before she’s born. Right? It only makes sense.”

A broad smile broke out across Matt’s face immediately. The sight of it nearly blinded you with how happy he’d suddenly looked. 

“You mean that?” he asked. “About doing this together–raising her together? Do you really mean that?”

“With how much you clearly seem to want to be a part of this,” you told him, “it seems cruel not to try to see if things can work out. So yeah. I think we should focus on taking small steps towards that and see if things can actually work out eventually so we aren’t just…co-parenting.”

There was a faint tremble to his lips that you’d just barely caught despite that beaming smile on his face. The sight instantly reminded you of the other night when he’d asked for permission to feel your baby bump. He’d gotten so emotional the moment he’d felt your daughter move and experiencing that with him had felt special in a way that you couldn’t exactly describe. You just knew that after that moment, you didn’t want to keep any more of those experiences from him. Not if he was truly going to give you and your daughter all of himself.

“Plus, I could use help thinking of a name,” you added with a small smile. “She’s not just mine, after all.”

Matt sniffled softly, his lips still faintly trembling. He almost seemed to be on the verge of crying, and you wondered if he wasn’t wearing the glasses right now, if you’d have seen his eyes rimmed in red and filled with tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his hand sliding across the table towards you. “For giving me this chance despite everything.”

Your eyes dropped down to his outstretched hand, studying it for a moment. You knew what that hand meant beyond the obvious gesture. Hesitantly your right hand released your coffee cup and slowly slid across the table towards Matt’s. Carefully you wrapped your fingers around his, your heart beating a little faster when his gripped yours in return.

“She deserves both of us,” you whispered. “As long as we can find a way to make this work.”

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[mongoosingisme]

Okay hear me out, what about Shane and the farmer having a rocky relationship, where the farmer instantly liked Shane because of his dry humor and saw past his mean act. So farmer keeps pushing Shane to open up and (very much against his will) he starts catching feelings for the farmer, and starts avoiding her (them?) out of wanting to avoid the whole feelings situation. So farmer confronts Shane and they have a huge ‘hey I’m into you idiot’ moment where Shane just gives in

(Pictured it very intense and definitely smutty but if can be sfw if you want, just dropping the idea and leaving. K bye!)

Hi Friend. Thank you so much for your patience <3 Been saving this for the right moment, and the time has finally come.

So I've been ripping my hair out the past few weeks trying to wrap this Shane series up in an emotionally satisfying way. Turns out the reason I couldn't get it to work was because we needed to hear from our farmer.

So that's what this is. Turns out our farmer has a lot to say. Sorry about that. Been tooling around with it for a bit, and have gotten to a point where I just kind of need to kick it out of the nest to keep momentum going.

To anyone who has been following this thing: thank you. I love how collaborative its been. I'm not sure if I want to wrap things up in one more fic or keep it rolling. I could probably keep it rolling if there was interest. So... let me know!

Okay. That's far too much housekeeping. Thanks for bearing with me.

Title: Einmal ist Keinmal

Series: Pepper Problems (see parts one, two, and three)

Pairing: Shane x fem!reader

Word Count: 5250 (whoops)

Rating: Explicit. 18+ only, if you would be so kind.

Tags and fic below the cut.

Tags: kissing, workplace shenanigans, vaginal fingering, dirty talk

This fic is part four of a series - start at part one here!

When the farmer was in high school she'd taken a German class. She'd forgotten almost everything she learned, but one phrase stuck in her head:

Einmal ist keinmal

Once is never.

It meant that value was found in repetition. 

If you planted a seed and only watered it once, you may as well have not planted it at all.

If you cast your line into the water and gave up the first time you pulled it back empty, could you really say you had gone fishing?

If you moved to a new town, started a new life, and only made an effort to ingratiate yourself once, have you really established yourself? Have you really earned your place?

It didn't feel that way. 

Starting over is a privilege. The farmer knew this, and she tried not to take it for granted.

It echoed in her mind, a quiet anxiety as she cleared the land, planted the seeds, built the barn, fed the dog, stretched her aching muscles. It was a privilege to be here, where it was quiet and safe. A privilege to be tucked in the valley, where words like “war” and “extremism” and “conspiracy” and “economy” carried so little weight in the day to day. It was a privilege to be here, and privileges could be taken away. 

It was hard to explain, the feeling that dogged her. The suspicion that this was all temporary. Life didn't work like this. You don't get to just pack up and leave a place that doesn't fit you, move to somewhere lush and quiet and green, build a new life that molds itself to your shape. That's not how life works. Life was rough and jagged and real, and if she wasn't very, very careful it'd swallow her back up again, and this thing she was building out here on her farm would be snatched away. 

The farmer wanted to be where she was, so she tried.

Tried to farm well.

Tried to be capable.

Tried to be a member of her new community, to be someone worth knowing. If she could root herself here, she felt, then eventually she'd belong, and what was a privilege would become her right. 

At least, that's how it felt.

So she started going into town more in the summer. Crops planted, watered by sprinklers. Cows and chickens big enough. The dog all comfortable and lazy under a tree. She could fill her bag with gifts, try to find a stabilizing presence in the other people in the valley.

She met her neighbors slowly at first, committing names to memory. Lewis. Robin. Pierre. Willy. Clint. Emily. They were all different in interests and attitudes, yet they all bore a sameness too. Getting to know them was easy. She listened and she spoke. She learned what people liked. She gave gifts. She smiled, big and wild and unrestrained. She tried to be exactly what they needed.

Talking to her neighbors made the farmer feel like she was running her hand over a well worn banister. Wood lustrous and smooth, beautiful to look at but offering no resistance, no way to find a steadying grip. Interactions felt like taking a huge step up, leaving the plane she usually walked on to join them at a higher point. It was nice up there where they were, sunny and warm and simple. Conversations about the weather, about wood and ore and the sea. There was a settledness about them she envied.

She never felt like she fully connected with that, though Yoba knows she tried. Tried to keep it light and sunny, just like all of them. Tried to be giving. It never felt like it was enough, though, for her to feel like she could stay. Like her roots had sunk deep enough to steady her. Instead, she felt shaky and uncertain, like all it would take was one good push and everything in her new life would fall away.

And that sensation, that moving up to where they were, left an ache in her. A strain in her legs, a stretch in her thigh, a burning under her hips. It was work, to get to know them. It was giving. But it needed to be done. This was their town, and even if it made her feel strange and fuzzy and off-kilter she needed to pay her dues. It was a privilege to start over, she knew, and such privileges needed to be paid for.

—————

The first time the man in the bar made eye contact with her she felt as though she’d miscounted the steps while climbing the stairs. Stepping up, expecting something solid to catch you, but instead stumbling forward with a lurch and a swoop in your stomach.

His eyes were green, bracketed by dark circles and heavy brows. He stared at her directly, like he existed on the same plane that she did. Like she didn’t need to step up to be seen by him. Like she didn’t need to earn her place.

It made her stumble over her conversation with Elliott, but she recovered quickly. Later she asked Emily what the man’s name was, if there was anything he liked. “Peppers” was the answer, though Emily had a strange look on her face when she said it.

Peppers. The farmer could do peppers. Had them planted already. It was easy to pack them in a clear plastic bag and present them to the man the next night. It was freeing, how little strain was involved with the approach. Walking across flat ground instead of climbing a mountain. There was more air in her lungs than usual as she presented her gift.

He rejected it rudely, coarsely, with a level of venom that nearly sent her reeling.

In that one short interaction he’d thrown back the curtains on her life in the valley.

It was a privilege to be here. It was safe to be here. It was warm and it was supportive and the people were nice and would love to get to know her. She could live her life here in quiet contentment, soft and blurry and sheltered from the sharp edges of the world. Sheltered, yes, but always unrooted. Always a breath away from losing it all.

Or, if she wanted, she could feel something that was sharp and true. She could run her hand over raw wood, draw it back to find it filled with cuts and splinters. Feel pain, yes, but also feel real, like she had wandered into a place that was actually her life, not a dream that would someday be taken away.

It was a privilege to choose. And if it was a choice between rough and smooth, reality and illusion, ephemeral or permanent, the farmer wanted something real.

And the man at the bar? He was as real as it got.

————

All that being said, his rejection still galled her. There were rules here, she thought. You gave your attention and your gifts, and you were welcomed into the fold in return.

The man - Shane - broke the rules. 

She wanted to do that too. Wondered if there might be a release in it.

And he kept doing it, kept rebuffing her. 

But here's the thing: Einmal ist keinmal.

Once is never.

If you only approached the person who fascinated you once, how could you say you met him? How could you shake the feeling that you needed to know him? 

She had to keep trying. 

Each time she approached he’d reject her, looking away, jaw twisting, clenching at his drink. 

But each time she approached he’d hold her gaze a little longer.

Each time she approached it all felt real for a little more time.

Until finally she bought him a beer.

She pressed.

What did he need? Nothing from her.

It felt like a weight lifted, and her body responded in relief. Drooping over the bar, mind emptying, relaxing into the understanding that there was nothing to do, nothing to say, nothing to earn. Nothing to give and nothing that could be taken away. Since the first time she moved to the valley that nameless anxiety lifted. She was okay. She was here, and could keep being here. All she needed to do was just be.

It was nice.

It was really, really fucking nice.

The farmer began to realize that she couldn't let this go.

——————

There was a lot to like about Shane, once the farmer got past his jagged exterior.

His voice - rough but warm, a slight slur softening his diction as the nights wore on. 

His humor - so dry it was almost corrosive, dark and biting and unexpected, making her laugh in a way she hadn’t since she’d moved. Longer, probably, and it kept her returning night after night.

His laugh - quiet at first, almost swallowed. The surprised look that accompanied it, almost like he didn’t recognize it as his own.

His outlook - dark and real. Like he saw the world like she did. Like he was responding to life in a reasonable way. Like he didn’t quite fit into the bucolic haze around him, just like her. 

His hands - broad, calloused, thick fingers wrapping around his glass, bringing it up to his mouth. Another thing she liked about him, his mouth, lips fuller than you’d think, expressive beneath his stubble once he got talking.

And fine, yes, she absolutely thought about what it’d be like to be touched by those hands, how they’d feel on her, all strong and rough and demanding, and what his mouth would feel like if they kissed. She doubted there’d be much finesse to it, all tongue and teeth and overwhelming and perfect.

And maybe she thought about what he’d say to her in that rough voice too, his teeth nipping at her ear, one of those broad hands spanning her throat and…

Yeah. She was into it, whatever it was he was giving. That balance of vulnerability and detachment. The way he'd slowly soften over the night. The way he'd look at her out of the corner of his eye, forehead resting on the palm of his hand, all tired and disheveled and broken and raw. 

She thought he was hot. Fucking sue her or whatever.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t into her too. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, staring at her whenever she thought he wasn't looking. She could feel it, when she was leaning against the bar talking to Emily. Would play into it, even, a part of her enjoying how it felt to have an impact. 

Or when she was talking to someone else. She'd feel it, invisible daggers prickling her neck, though she never caught his stare. 

Emily would roll her eyes about it later. “I swear at one point he had social skills,” she said. 

The farmer had shrugged. “Social skills are overrated.”

“You’re good for him.” Emily had stopped wiping the counter to look the farmer in the eyes. “I haven’t seen his aura so green since we were kids.”

It was the kind of thing Emily said, all auras and crystals and stuff. The farmer usually just rolled with it, nodded along, but for once she wondered if she might know exactly what Emily meant. Because she could see it in herself too. Not green but a rich brown, tendrils reaching out, roots seeking solid ground. A place to latch in, to settle and grow. Something that was real, even if it was only for a day.

———————-

Einmal ist keinmal.

Once is never.

But what if… what if the man you’d been drinking with the last few months, the surly one who’d softened over time, who made you laugh, who made you feel real, who became the person you could trust to check in on your chickens while you were away… if that person pushed you up against your couch, ripped open your tights, and ate you out so thoroughly you were still feeling it days later…

If it was only once, was he still anything more than a drinking buddy?

Shane didn’t seem to think so, shutting down any chance of conversation with such a firm dismissal it was hard for the farmer not to feel it in her gut.

But what else was there to do but keep going? To keep sitting next to him at the saloon night after night? To watch him drink, watch him frown, watch him look at her with bleary eyes? What else was there to do but keep trying to crack him open, like the roots of a tree around a rock? 

Einmal ist keinmal.

But if you keep trying you can get somewhere. Get in deeper, let your roots find something to drink from. And that’s what it felt like when he finally opened up. Like she was being nourished. 

Because he felt the same way she did. He felt the weight of the future. He was tensed against what might be, about what could be taken away. 

But still, he could make her laugh, and she could make his eyes go bright and clear, and it was good, it was more than good, what she felt towards him was so much more than good, and he made it possible to feel like the life she was living was one she would get to keep.

——————

Shane started to laugh less as summer grew close.

The farmer wasn’t sure why.

And she wasn’t sure why she was the one to find him passed out in his bedroom.

And she hated the way it made him avoid her eyes after.

But she could play it cool. They were still buddies, right? She could tease him, tell him about her day.

She could think about him while she picked out a bra, zipped up her dress, did her hair.

She could ask him to dance. Ignore his quick rejection and ask him again.

She could examine the red marks on her chest later that night, scrapes from the rock he’d pushed her up against. 

She could put her own hand over her throat, a laughably inferior substitute for the way it felt to be caught up against his palm. 

She could remember the way he’d called her “baby,” his voice all throaty and shattered, remember the way he’d moved in her, and how badly she wanted it, how good it had felt, how easily he moved her, how thrilling his words were.

More than once.

It wasn’t nothing anymore.

What the fuck was she supposed to do with that?

——————

There was a point where you had to talk it out, right? If it’s not nothing? If it’s real?

And she supposed that point was different for everyone, but for her the line was somewhere between “receiving cunnilingus from a drinking buddy” and “letting said drinking buddy fuck you raw within hollaring distance of that twee little flower festival.”

So yeah. Line crossed. 

They needed to talk. Couldn’t get around it. Had to get a few basics pounded out. 

Yes, I’m into this.

Yes, you’re into this too.

Yes, I have an IUD.

No, you’re not fucking anyone else like that, right?

The basics. That’s it. Not looking for a love confession or anything deep. She knew where he was at. She knew where she was at. She was realistic. She wasn’t looking for forever. Just… just an acknowledgement. Just an assurance of what they were both getting out of this. The rest could come if it was going to.

One day at a time. One step at a time. 

Einmal ist keinmal.

Repetition. Building.

But despite whatever promises she’d wrung from him, Shane was clearly in no shape to pick up a hammer.

She wasn’t surprised when he started avoiding her, but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. She kept up her regular trips to the Saloon, but his stool stood empty. None of the other locals seemed to want to sit there. One time a tourist was in it, and the farmer had to bite down the urge to shove him off.

So yes. Shane seemed aware of what the farmer knew - that they’d passed the point where things could be sidestepped. He was even less capable of dealing with that than she was, which was terrifying. She was already feeling the impact of life without him. Roots searching but nothing to latch onto. Stepping up the stairs with the handrail all slick and smooth. None of the bite that made her life feel permanent. Over a year in the valley, and she was back to feeling like it could all be taken away.

That’s why she showed up where Shane worked.

Was it the best way to go about things? Absolutely not, but they weren’t operating in the best case scenario. She couldn’t even imagine what “best case” would be. Shane taking her out to dinner? Buying her flowers? Complimenting her outfit, asking about her day? 

Fuck that noise. 

She wanted Shane, all bleary eyed and lopsided smile and crude humor and rough words and unpredictable and heavy and real.

For now, the best case scenario would be a conversation, and that’s exactly what she was going to get.

The universe aligned with her, it seemed. She couldn’t find him in the aisles of the Joja Mart, so she went out around the back. There he was, all alone in his jumpsuit, unloading boxes from the back of a truck. She watched him for a moment, before he saw her. Watched his forearms flex beneath his rolled up sleeves. Watched the way his gloved hands gripped each box. Saw the sweat on his neck. Imagined him picking her up and moving her with the same ease he moved those boxes.

The roots in her shivered, started to grow towards him.

She felt grounded again for the first time in weeks.

“Hey,” she said, finally approaching the truck. He was on the ground now, standing next to the handcart he’d just wheeled down. Right at her level.

“Hey,” he said, just as casual at first as if she’d slid onto the stool next to him at the saloon. For a moment she wanted to sink into it, to go along, pretend nothing had happened, nothing had changed, that they could just keep on circling around each other forever, drinking and talking and occasionally fucking and it would all be good, all be fine, all be enough to keep her settled into her life.

But no. Once is never. Twice? 

You can’t ignore twice.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” No sense in beating around the bush.

Something changed in Shane’s eyes, his stance. While he hadn’t been particularly open in his greeting, he’d at least been casual. All it took was the hint of conflict, though, for him to stiffen. Shoulders tight, jaw hard, gaze shifting off of her own.

“I’m at work,” was all he said.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m here, because you’re not anywhere else. We need to talk.”

“I’m at work,” he said again, then braced the handcart with his foot.

“Take a break.” She tried to put a bit of playfulness in the command, but she wasn’t sure it hit.

“Can’t,” Shane said, and the handcart was moving, he was moving, heading into the store and leaving her behind.

Well, fuck that.

Now she was a little pissed.

She caught the door before it closed, followed him into the stock room. Shelves towered around her, and she had to hurry to follow Shane around behind a row of them. It felt like their own little world, back there. 

She continued as though he hadn’t just rejected her attempts to speak. “I’m not looking for anything unreasonable here. We fucked and you promised we’d talk about it, so let’s talk.”

“You can’t be here.” He wasn’t looking at her, focused on the cart in front of him, gripping at the handles a little more tightly than seemed necessary.

“So we better get this conversation over quick. I’m into you and I want to see where this goes. You’re clearly into me too. I need some kind of indication of what’s going on here. Where's your head at? What do you want?”

There. She said it. She stood with her arms crossed. The air conditioner was turned up too high. It made goosebumps rise on her arms, on her legs beneath her shorts. They had nothing to do with how she was feeling, nervous and angry and, fuck, a little turned on, okay? By the way he was looking at her now, stupid little hat shadowing his eyes, mouth pressed tight, hands seeming even bigger in his work gloves.

He took a deep breath. Adjusted his hands on the cart. Then, finally: “whatever you’re looking for here, you’re not going to find it.”

“That’s bullshit.” It was the truth, so it was easy to say. “I’ve already got what I want. I’m not looking for anything other than what we’re already doing. I just need some acknowledgement that we’re both, like, engaged in it.”

And then she said it again: “what do you want?”

Something changed in his eyes, like a light going out. “I don’t want anything,” he said, and started to unload his cart.

He was lying. She knew he was lying. Everybody wanted something. Even if what he wanted wasn’t from her, he still wanted. It made her feel off balance, like her roots were loosening, like a strong wind would knock her right over. “You’re a shitty liar.”

He said nothing.

That was okay. She had all the time in the world. 

Einmal ist keinmal.

She had to keep trying.

He kept moving those boxes. Off the hand cart. Onto the shelves. One after another, his gait slightly uneven, his grip favoring his right shoulder

She leaned against a shelf. Settled in. Watched him. Waited.

And finally…

“I’m going to be in trouble if someone finds you back here.” The handcart was almost empty. Shane was looking at the last unloaded box.

“So tell me the truth and I’ll go.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me you want me, or lie well enough that I can walk away.” The words surprised her, but after she said them she realized it was the truth. It was him or nothing. 

Einmal ist keinmal

Once was one thing. But it’d keep happening. He wasn’t able to stop it, and neither was she. She didn’t want to. She’d keep sinking those roots into him, and he’d let her, and then he’d pull away, and she’d feel them tear, keep cycling between reality and a dream, and there was only so long a person could do that before it all fell apart completely.

Shane took a long breath, kept staring at the box. “What I want is irrelevant,” he finally said. “I don’t have much room for good in my life, so it’s better to be realistic. Go find someone else to want.”

“No. I want you.” It was easy to be emphatic.

“Why?” 

That answer was easy as well: “Because you’re the only person here who feels real.”

He looked at her, for just a moment. Just a glance. Just enough to show he heard her, that he might even know how she felt. That maybe she felt real to him in the same way.

Which made the tearing even more painful when he said “I’m not a shitty liar, you just don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

She didn’t believe him, but that didn’t matter, because he was turning away, unloading the last box, exiting the conversation, dismissing her from his presence, from his life, from this reality, it felt like, consigning her to to scrambling up, to giving, to earning, to touches that felt like nothing, like clouds drifting apart beneath her fingertips and that’s not what she wanted. It’s not what would keep her there.

What she wanted was him, stinging stubble and biting humor and rough voice and clenching fingers and splinters and things left unsaid and truth.

Einmal ist keinmal

You had to keep trying.

So that’s what the farmer did. 

Because even if Shane wouldn’t tell her the truth in words, his body wouldn’t lie.

She approached him as he unloaded the box he was holding. Wrapped her arms around his back. He was warm, his jumpsuit rough against her arms. Her lips hit the nape of his neck, just the right height to rub her nose against, to breathe in, smell the unexpected fruit of his hair, trying and failing to cover the scents of sweat and liquor and him. 

And there it was, the truth. It was in the goosebumps that rose under her nose. It was in the way he shuddered, the way the breath seemed to heave out of him, the way one gloved hand came up to cover hers where they met around his stomach, and her roots were stirring, wrapping, stabilizing her, encasing him. Drinking. Receiving.

For the first time she wondered if she was taking more from him than he could give.

She would weigh this thought later, alone in her bed, the day's events playing through her mind.

But right now she couldn’t think because she was too busy feeling. The way he was moving, turning in her arms to face her, and there was nothing stopping her from pressing her mouth against his. Warm here too, then hot as his lips parted, hot through her stomach as a gentle press turned to something rough and demanding so quickly she could barely process it. 

And yes, yes, fucking yes, it was just like she thought it could be, Shane’s mouth absolutely insistent, tongue forcing, lips bruising, groaning, his body leaning, thigh pushing between her legs, gloved hands anchoring on either side of her jaw. She was pinned between his mouth and the shelves behind her, between heat and cold steel. Grounded. Real. 

For a moment it felt like nothing could be taken away.

“Fuck,” Shane groaned, drawing back. He still had that stupid hat on. The farmer knocked it off, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. She could see his eyes better now, all green and dark, a mixture of desire and panic that she was starting to associate with his hands and his mouth. With pleasure. With cohesion. With nourishment.

“I want you,” the farmer said.

“Fuck, baby,” Shane groaned again, and then he was biting at the finger of his glove, ripping it off, and it was just his hand, rough in its own way, pushing up under her shirt, just for a second, palm spread wide. Traveling up, gripping at her breast, squeezing, shuddering, then down, undoing the button on her shorts, fingers racing lower, and she couldn’t help but dig her nails into the back of his neck. Those fingers, hard and perfect, rubbing back and forth against her, a little too fast, a little too rough, uncontrolled, and she couldn’t help but cry out as her body tightened.

“You gotta… shit, you gotta be quiet, baby.” And then his other hand, gloved, all coarse and heavy, smelling of work, of effort, of Shane was covering her mouth. Pressing, thumb down and curling around her chin, palm broad. She groaned into it, felt the rough fabric rasp against her bruised lips, felt his fingers sliding a little more fluidly, and that made him groan too. “Yoba, how do you… you want it so bad, don’t you? Want it as bad as I do. How do you keep wanting this? I can’t… I’m not… you’re so fucking perfect, how do we keep…”

He trailed off on a groan, fingers still working, gliding in quick circles around her clit. She didn’t know what was guiding her up more effectively - his hands or his words. She wanted to talk back to him, but all she could do was gasp and whimper against his glove and pull him in closer by the back of the neck. His forehead was almost touching hers now, and she could feel the soft brush of his hair. She locked her gaze on his, tried to pin him to her with it in the same way he kept her pinned beneath him.

She wanted him to stay right there.

Because he kept talking.

“Fuck, I can’t… I fucking taste you all the time. How do you do it, huh?” His fingers were flickering even faster now, their friction dulled by how wet she'd become. Her hips were starting to hitch, matching the rhythm of his strokes. “How do you make it so I can’t stop thinking about you? It doesn’t matter if you’re there or not, I swear I see you everywhere. I can’t… fuck, I miss you so fucking much when you're not there. I can't even… I just… I don't want to be away from you.”

So don’t, she would have said if his glove hadn’t been covering her mouth. I see you all the time too. I want you all the time. How do you do it? How do I keep you with me?

“Need you to come for me, baby. Fuck, please, I need… I want to. Wanna see you come. Do it for me baby.” He looked fully desperate now, staring into her eyes. She did her best to nod under his glove, to keep her eyes open as her hips tensed, as her thighs began to shake, as heat climbed up her spine, coiling, a vine wrapping around her ribs and her arms and her throat, making her whimper and her eyes lose focus. “Fuck,” Shane breathed, his fingers keeping that perfect rhythm. “Look at that face. Yoba’s fucking Light, you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.  You coming for me?”

The farmer did her best to make an affirming noise, because yes, she was coming, coming hard, all tense and coiled and connected, all liquid rush and Shane’s rough voice, spilling more words than he’d ever had before (“yes, baby, yes, fuck, there you go, so fucking good, don’t you stop, keep coming for me, that’s right, that’s my girl, don’t you fucking stop”). 

It was endless.

It was real.

Einmal ist keinmal

But that moment felt like it stretched on forever.

——————

The farmer didn’t know if their talk was a success or a failure.

Maybe it was neither.

Maybe it was both.

She laid on her bed and stared at her ceiling. 

The feeling was back. Like none of it was real. Like it was all about to slip away.

She pressed her hand over her mouth. Thumb down. Palm broad. Tried to imagine it was a glove.

It felt a little better.

Einmal ist keinmal.

She had to keep trying.

She couldn't stop trying.

She couldn't help but keep trying.

Whatever this was, whatever was happening between the two of them, it wasn't a never. It didn't have to be always for it to be something. 

The something it was was the something she wanted. 

Rough and sharp and real, like calloused hands and stubbled skin and tired eyes.

The farmer sighed, pressed her hand down a little harder. It braced her, kept her from feeling like she was going to float away.

Einmal ist keinmal.

Once is never.

You had to keep trying.

And so that’s what she was going to do.

Want a part five? You got a part five. Here it is. Enjoy.

Masterlist

[amakumos]

MEET ME IN MONTE CARLO. — jake sim. (teaser)

SYNOPSIS. As a Formula 1 driver, being competitive is just in Ferrari driver Jake Sim's blood. Perhaps Jake cares about winning too much though, because during his conquest for the world title, he loses you. It isn't until 2 years later when you show up at the Monaco Grand Prix with his main rival, Red Bull driver Park Sunghoon, when Jake finds himself determined to not only fight for the championship, but also to fight for you.

GENRE. fluff, angst, exes to enemies (one-sided ish) to lovers

PAIRING. formula 1 driver! jake x fem! reader

WARNINGS. none in the teaser. in the fic, cursing, mentions of car crashes and accidents

ESTIMATED RELEASE DATE. late march, early april

WORD COUNT. 20k ish, teaser is 883 words

AUTHOR'S NOTE. well... this will be my second to last fic for the meantime! i'm excited to drop this one. i've been working on it for quite a while now. here's a formula 1 fic starring our very own jake sim :) i hope you enjoy this little teaser, and the taglist is open so just pop in an ask if you'd like to be tagged when i post this <3

TAGLIST IS OPEN, send in an ask if you’d like to be added!

You were the first person that Jake Sim ever loved. You were there at his first Formula 1 race, you were there at his first race win, and you were there for his first world title win. A series of firsts. 

But, Jake Sim has first breakup on the list as well. 

He always regrets how things ended between you two – it was messy, it was awful, and it left him crying at 3 in the morning in his apartment. 

Jake isn’t certain about many things in his life. But what Jake is 100% certain of, is that the breakup was all his fault.

You had screamed at him, and he knew that he deserved it. You were slowly slipping away from his grasp, and Jake allowed that to happen as he chased another world title so desperately. So desperately to the point that he would end up neglecting you. 

Forgotten dates, forgotten anniversaries, and forgotten birthdays. Text messages would be left unread for days when he was in some other unfamiliar city, as you walked to your lectures with a heavy heart and the stream of his race playing in the back of your phone as you waited for a response. You wore red every time he had a race, for Ferrari, for him, even as your relationship was crumbling. 

“I’m sorry,” he had choked out. “It is difficult.” 

You looked at him with bloodshot eyes and shaking fists. “It is. And you’re chasing your dreams, but… I can’t be with you if it’s like this. The past few months have been like we weren’t even dating in the first place.” 

Jake gulps. “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I want to try,” you had said with an exasperated sigh, and Jake knows that you’re tired. He’s going at maximum speed, and you’re left trailing behind him. He’s so far ahead, and you know you’ve lost all hope of catching up. But you say those words anyway. “Please tell me you’ll try.” 

Jake doesn’t say a word. Because he knows that he won’t be able to. He wants to say yes, so badly. He wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, and he wants to commit. Just as he commits to his races, to the championship, to Ferrari. 

But he can’t. Not a single word leaves his lips, and his silence is enough of an answer for you. “Oh,” you say, and Jake doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers, and your lower lip trembles. You’re dressed in red, Ferrari’s colour – his colour. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” he told you. 

“It’s important to you.” you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “I understand.”

You say that, but Jake knows that you don’t. He knows nobody would ever be able to understand choosing to win over choosing someone you love. But Jake is committed to racing. He is committed to win. 

Yet, he’s not committed to you. The one who’s been with him through thick and thin, the one who’d catch red-eye flights to find him in some unfamiliar city to watch him win, the one who’d go through hell and back for him if it meant that he’d be happy. 

He can’t do the same for you, and he hates that. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and you simply shook your head. You don’t have anything more to say to him, so you quietly pack your things. “I’m sorry.” 

Before you opened the door to leave, you took one last look at Jake. “I hope you figure out whatever’s going on in your life.” You don’t say anything more, and that is the last time Jake Sim ever sees you again. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing either, because you’d deleted your Instagram account, starting a new one where none of his fans could keep up to date with you. The only way he knows how you’re doing is updates from Heeseung's girlfriend Yoona, who goes on trips with you often. He sees his fans constantly wondering if you’re doing well, and Jake finds it funny how he’s got the same exact question.

He drowns himself further in training, in racing, in wanting to become the best after the split. He wins, he wins, and he wins again – and that feeling of euphoria when he stands on the podium never leaves. It fills him with a joy like no other, and it reminds Jake why he does this. He wants to win. He wants to be the best – no, he is the best. 

Winning means the world to Jake Sim. Racing is in his blood – he does it to hear the crowds scream his name, he does it to lift that trophy on the top step of the podium, and he does it to feel the overwhelming pride in his chest when he crosses that chequered flag first. 

But he’s been so focused on winning, and he’s lost his everything. 

His everything is the girl who went to his first race. His everything is the girl who would tire herself by studying during the day, and catching long flights to the cities where he’d race in to support him. 

And his everything had left him 2 years ago in his apartment in Monte Carlo, Monaco, with teary eyes and a red dress. 

[oneremainingbraincell]

Answer this blog with 5 things you like about yourself.

Then when done ask this exact question to 10 of your favourite followers

I was forced to do This

Positive is good

Non negotiable

Favourite? Me? 🥹

Uh

1. I have a masculine jawline

2. I have at least five friends that I have made

3. I can put together an awesome DnD campaign

4. I tan really easily

5. I have a wide vocal range, which makes answering the phone a joy

Do I know how to tag? No, anyway:

@marshmellowtea @grovebean @raidermomma @cornley-amateur-drama-society @baldmark @lordkuntfuck @lord-valery-mimes @nostalgicmermaaiid @personinthepalace @ribbibbledibbles

Sorry. You're the guys in my tags list that seem the nicest :) plus I can't remember the users of other people so I'm so sorry if I've forgotten you 😅

[fluffytriceratops]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 [𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑]

notes: fucking finally. here you guys go. here's your meal. [i still have so many requests to do send help-] 2003 is one of my fave ver if not my fave ver bcuz this is the ver i grew up on. this and the 90's live action movies. so i really need to write more with them. raph in particular is so nostalgic to me bcuz he was my fave as a wee babe. 

warnings: nsfw mentions/smut, mature language,

click here to read donnie's ver. [will be adding the others later too]

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mystics-tmnt-blog @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover  @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82 @pheradream-15 @kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @moonsua1 @dreamstormdragon @magickdream-creations @definitely-canon @misty-angerose @karma-reader @muamazon4 @akesdraws-blog @battydora @kate03-27

[if i've forgotten anyone i'm so sorry please comment or dm me and let me know and i'll add you right away so i don't forget in the future!]

if you would like to be tagged in my future tmnt x reader related work, feel free to let me know and i'll happily add you!

---

- loves to edge you to oblivion. will make you beg for release. 

- loves to spank your ass. but he won't hit you anywhere else, he doesn't want to actually hurt you. but he likes to smack your ass. sometimes outta nowhere too, so be careful. 

- please drink and watch wrestling with him. he'll love you forever. cracking a cold beer and watching wrestling is probably one of his favorite things. does it with casey a lot. but would def prefer to do it with you. 

- if you actually take him to a match? marriage on sight-

- secretly likes romance/romcoms but won't admit it. does get heated when he watches them though. "why the fuck would he do that?" & "this is stupid, they should just be together. why bother being friends with benefits?" & "BUT THEY BOTH LOVE EACH OTHER THIS IS CRAP-" etc. 

- covers you in hickies. doesn't care if anyone sees. in facts he wants them to. 

- if you bitch to him about it after? he'll just shrug and smirk. 

- definitely calls you princess and good girl. 

- takes you for rides on his motorcycle. will also fuck you on it-

- snores really loudly. you might need earplugs. but he loves to cuddle. likes you to sleep on top of him. or to have his arm thrown around you. 

- leggings are his kryptonite. he's an ass man so if you show it off for him, expect some good loving. also loves thongs. loves to see the band of your panties/thongs pulled up and on display. 

- will literally tear off your clothes if you let him. he finds it hot. 

- his brooklyn accent is delightful and you adore it and he KNOWS you do. so he'll 100% tease you with it. 

- makes you beg for his cock. fingers you into oblivion first. will have you coming multiple times before he gives it to you. 

- LOVES to make it known how pretty he finds you. he's always complimenting you during sex. likes to call you pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, etc. "that's it gorgeous, takin' it so good for me-" etc. [askdhsgh-]

- sometimes will goes slow to tease you and so he can really feel you. but he'll eventually get tired of it and will pick up the pace. if he's really fired up, he goes fast and hard. 

- aftercare is always really sweet though. and he always feels a bit bad if he hurts you. even if you say it's okay. in the moment he can get a little rough. and while he enjoys it, he also feels guilty if he see's bruises on you from his fingers or if you're extra sore later. he'll draw you a bath, his tone will get soft. he'll massage you. he really is super sweet after. 

- he's always scared he's going to accidentally hurt you or take things too far. it's a big fear of his. you usually have to reassure him a lot. 

- he's insecure. and he isn't good with words or emotions. please be patient with him. he'll apologize eventually after arguments, but it may take him some time. he's better with actions rather than words. might not actually say "i'm sorry" but he'll show it in other ways. 

- his love languages are physical touch and quality time. 

- loves it when you wear his color. (red) he thinks its really sexy on you and to him it's kinda like showing others that you're his and it's a big turn on for him. 

- red lingerie will kill him. ;)

- will wear any marks you leave behind on him with pride. 

- has a bottle of your perfume/body spray in his room. likes to smell you on his things. esp if you're away and he hasn't seen you in a while. 

- also probably has a sweater or something of yours in his room. your presence and scent calms him. you usually switch them out for him once your scent starts to wear off. or he'll casually just stroll into your room and trade one item for another hehe. 

- goes to you/your place when he needs a break or he has a fight with one of his brothers. rants to you about leo often. might get upset if you take leo's side, esp if the fight is very recent and he hasn't had a chance to fully cool off yet. choose your words wisely during this time as he might just storm off or say something he doesn't mean and will regret later. 

- would love to spar/train/work out with you. 

- if that's not your cup of tea, he would also love it if you just watched him do so. he likes to spend time with you, even if you're not really doing anything. and he just likes to have your eyes on him/your attention. 

- i believe any of the turtles would be with any body shape, but i also believe that raph esp would ADORE a plus size/chubby/curvy baddie. more to love in his eyes. loves to feel your curves. and he could 100% lift you and likes to as well. always has his hands on you. can't get enough. 

- short king in the early seasons but he does get a growth spurt and grows taller in the mid and later ones. if you knew him before then, you love to tease him about his height. 

- lots of vacations to casey's farm house. you can't really go on proper dates or go to places (since y'know he's a mutant turtle) so his best bro definitely hooks him up. weekends at the farm house have become something you both do quite often and always look forward to. especially when it's just the two of you. 

- in the beginning (God created the heavens and the earth- sorry lol) he probably asked casey/april for advice. in my head i see it as he starts to ask casey for advice and april overhears and casey is just giving him trash awful advice so she interjects and gives him actually good advice lol. 

[yunniestars]

"maybe this time, love won't end."

. . . ACT I. "Logged Out" ʚɞ pairing: kinich x gn!reader

oh archons, the nerves have never been wrecking so much before.

he was in front of your residence, and the place feels all too familiar. it was definitely a different location, but the taste in decoration screamed you. ah, this felt so surreal, he thought.

taking in deep breaths, he knocked on the wooden door. the doorknob starts to unlock, opening the door and...

"hello, how can i help you?"

oh. that sweet, velvety voice. the one he missed so much.

he couldn't believe his eyes, it really was you. the same person who changed the trajectory of his life and gave it meaning. his star, moon, sun, and everything. the one who made him feel like a lovesick fool, but he'll never regret being one. the jewel that no mora he earns will ever buy. his-

"um, if you're just going to gape at me, then i'm shutting the door." you say with an annoyed look on your face.

"i'm sorry?" he blurts out. okay, that was a mistake, but he's genuinely confused -- were you joking at him?

"uh, excuse me? do you expect me to just let you in? i'm not expecting visitors at the moment, so go leave or else i call someone-"

"ah wait! i'm..." he tries finding a good excuse to stay. suddenly, he remembers the other reason why he's here. "i'm the one for your commission. yeah."

your face then lights up, demeanor going from irritated to overjoyed. "oh then why didn't you say so! gosh, and here i was thinking on methods to get rid of you as soon as possible!"

he then gets hugged by you, the same warmth he used to bask himself in, but right now, it felt... strange. the warmth wasn't the same as before.

you then let go of him, with a cheery grin. "i'm y/n l/n. your name?"

what?

"...kinich. 'malipo' kinich." he responds, a wave of disappointment washing him over.

"great! so, the last time i saw my yumkasaur..." your voice suddenly starts to slowly disperse, words breaking down into inaudible mumbles as if he shut down every sound around him.

you didn't remember him.

୨୧

"my baby!"

you run up to your yumkasaur who ziplines to you, happy to see you after such a long time. kinich watches the scene unfold at him, unsure on how to feel.

the entire time, you were behaved like the same person he loved so much before. the same old yapper who pulled his heartstrings like their life was on the line. except... you acted as if you didn't know him.

"how have you been?" kinich breaks the ice as you two head over the place you say your yumkasaur was last seen.

"that's quite the question for someone you just met... but i guess i've been pretty lonely? after all, pipo has been away from me for so long."

and since then, you continued talking about pipo and the conversation longed on as if you were just getting to know each other.

perhaps for you it was like that, even if he couldn't believe it, but to him, he knew every single thing about you.

however, for some reason, it feels as if his knowledge of you was just useless now.

"thank you for finding pipo for me, i don't know what i would've done," you cry while hugging kinich, who didn't know if he wanted to hug back or just distance himself. "um, as for the compensation..."

"nevermind that," he cuts you off.

your eyes widen in shock. "what? no! i need to pay you. i'll feel guilty my entire life if i just take this for free -- take it!" you hand him a bag of mora, but he shakes his head.

"just... compensate me by being with me. i'll never ask for anything more again," he says in a low whisper, but loud enough for you to hear.

you tilt your head, but nod. "okay then, let's be friends!"

oh, that took a deep cut. you've really forgotten about him.

he took a deep sigh, and nodded back. "friends, then."

well, it's better than being nothing with you.

୨୧ prologue | act ii ୨୧ masterlist

♡ tags: @lvvcian @sunsethw4

a/n: thank you for reading the first chapter! i'm sorry it's really short haha, but i hope it was enjoyable nevertheless. idk when i can update again, but i have a lot of ideas in my mind right now, so probably 2-3 days from now. also, thank u to the nice comments that were left at my work! it's been motivating me to continue so it means a lot haha. love u all

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (5)

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

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

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

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

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

This is what you wanted, isn't it? For things to get easier? For some godsend to come and save you from the deepening pit of debt and despair?

Is that what S is? Is he really going to save you? And your mother? Can his money do that? Or are you just dragging out the inevitable? Is this also just denial? False hope? What do you call it?

There's some things you can see clearly he isn't lying about. The money. It's already in your account like he said. And his car screams rich. Richer than you could ever hope to be. A rental but not the type they give to someone with nothing in the bank.

You look out at your apartment building. Those second thoughts already have you nervously picking at the edges of your nails. You take a deep breath and look straight to the windshield.

"You okay?" S asks, startling you from your doubt.

"Yeah, yeah, I... I've never lied to my mom before. Not as big as this. I mean yeah, I lied about losing her pearl earrings in grade school but that lasted all of two hours..." You frame your face and sit back in the seat. "I'm rambling. I'm sorry." You drop your arms. "And I've wasted enough of your time."

"Not wasted. Honest," He leans his hand on the steering wheel. "I'm headed to the hotel to eat room service alone." He scoffs and gives a sardonic smile. "Exciting stuff. But uh... it's a nice suite."

"Hah, yeah. Must be weird being away from home," you sniff.

"Not much different. Still empty." He shrugs.

"Uh huh," you hum thoughtfully.

"Well, you can tell your mom you went for an interview? Got something new? That could explain... things as they come up."

You pick at your lip and nod. "Makes sense."

"I could mock stuff up for you. I mean, I have letterhead," he chuckles and rubs his neck. "I'm not a great liar either, sorry."

You chuckle thinly. "It feels... hopeless." You shake your head. "Not you. Just... alright. Gotta face the music." You look at him. "S, thank you. For lunch and being patient with me. Sometimes I feel like a piece of my brain is not there." You exhale and grab the door.

"Uh, wait, before you go," he grabs your other arm then quickly lets go. You sit back and look at him. "I'm gonna be in town for a few days. So, I was hoping tomorrow we could... spend some more time together."

Your lips part. That's a surprise. You just assumed you'd have more time to adjust. To process. Time. It's precious and you don't know how much you truly have.

"Oh, right," you breathe.

"Unless... " he draws out.

"Oh, oh, I... I thought maybe you had to go back. For your business," you say as you wring your hands. Your skin is raw. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking and... you know, I have work but, I guess I'll be calling in."

"Sure, I didn't mean to blindside you. Sometimes I think things and just assume other people know," he clears his throat. "So, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you agree and pull the handle, pushing the door out. "Please, go get some rest. You flew out here, it must've been a long day."

"It's sweet of you to think of me," he says.

"Good night," you smile and stand straight. You shut the door and turn to look up at the dingy apartment building.

You drag your feet forward. Your lips move silently as you rehearse your lies. You purse them and slant your mouth one way than the other.

You almost collide with someone else as they come out of the building. You step out of their way and wait. You glance back. S idles at the curb. You wave before you go inside.

You climb the stairs one at a time. You're wading through molasses. As you get to the apartment door, you hesitate. Stop. Get yourself together. This isn't against her, it's for her. This could save your mom.

You enter and the deja vu makes you feel out of place. Everything is as it should be yet it feels like it's all changed. Your mom is on the couch, reading, her head in her hand, her finger feeling the edge of her scarf. You shut the door gently.

"Hi mom," you say as you put your bag down. You sanitize your hands before you go any further. "How was your day?"

"Good," she sits up. "You were gone a while. I thought it was your day off."

"I'm sorry, I didn't... say." You linger by the entryway. "So, uh, I really didn't want to get my hopes up and... I thought I'd surprise you..." you let the words dangle. You watch her, waiting for her to challenge you. She looks tired. "I went for an interview and er, I got it."

"An interview?" She echoes.

"Yeah. It pays better, so I said yes... and... yeah."

"Another store?"

"Um... admin?" You say.

Her lashes flutter and she smiles. "Wow, that's great, pie. Very good." The book closes in her lap and she brings her hands up to her face. "Can you help me to bed? I'm feeling nauseous."

"Oh, of course, mom."

You near her and offer your arm. She gets up and you help her around the couch. She doesn't even have the energy to doubt you. She has bigger problems. She's staring down that abyss and you're worried about a little white lie. She doesn't need to know, she doesn't need to worry. She just needs to get better.

🦋

S arrives at nine. You're outside waiting. You're anxious, not excited. You feel bad enough leaving your mom for work, but this feels wrong. Not just that you're lying to her, but about what.

You get in the car as he smiles at you. "Good morning, I brought coffee," he announces proudly.

You look at the paper cups. You smile back. It feels strangely normal. This is what you see on TV. Real couples do this. This isn't real.

"Thanks, that's so nice," you say. You buckle in and peer around. You feel like you're being watched. Like one of the neighbours will tattle on you. "H--How was your night?"

"Not too bad. Watched a movie. Fell asleep before it ended," he snorts as he pulls away from the curb. "Old man hours."

"Ah," you nod. "I just read a bit. Checked on the butterflies."

"They getting close?" He asks.

"Yeah. Should be soon I think."

"Hm. Nice. You eat yet?" He asks.

"I had some toast." You answer.

"Cool. I hope you don't mind a bit of a road trip? I found this place in the next town. Has good reviews."

"Oh, it's totally up to you but... I don't want to be too much," you scratch your neck.

"This is the deal, right? Spending time together. So don't worry about being too much. Just try to enjoy yourself," he girds.

"Right, yes, I just... guess it's been a while since I did anything for fun. God, that sounds lame, doesn't it?" You ask.

"Lame or it means you've been working hard." He says.

"I guess so," you agree.

He drives on and you stare through the window. It's better that you leave town. It's not like you're well-known but you don't need to chance anyone seeing you with him. Out-of-towners always tend to inspire gossip. Mom doesn't go out much but...

Your mind won't stop. You try to calm it as the minutes tick by. Your worries are replaced by curiosity. Where exactly is he taking you?

Before you can assume the worst, you recognise the large stone behind the town sign. You haven't been around this way in years. He steers past the green park and through town square.

As he pulls in at the vaguely familiar yellow brick building, you can't help but pinch yourself. How could he know? Maybe just a lucky guess. You went to the conservatory once as a child. You realised later how expensive that birthday trip was.

"Here we are," S says. "I know it's nothing fancy."

"It's... it's great," you say. "I love this place."

"You've been here?"

"Not in ages but once," you answer.

"Ah, I should've figured."

He grabs his phone and wallet as the engine quiets. He gets out and slides them into his back pockets. You undo your belt and climb out as he comes around the car.

We waves you ahead of him toward the arched front doors. He pulls one open and lets you through first. He approaches the desk and takes out his phone. He has them scan his passes and puts it away again.

He turns to you and offers his hand. You stare for a moment before you accept. His skin is warm.

He takes you through the entryway to the first wing. Here they have all the antiquated inventions; funky looking glasses with stacked lenses and scientific tools you couldn't guess at the purpose of. You stop to read the placards as S leans in to admire the objects.

"Probably not your favourite part," he says.

"I don't mind. I like old things."

"Ah, me too. Maybe one day... well, who knows, I might take you to the museum in New York... but... who knows," he shrugs.

"Maybe," you say. You don't know about all that. That's a long way away.

You continue on around the winding exhibits and into the room with the live exhibits. Insects of all kinds. You let go of S and stop to watch the bees in the hive with a tunnel to the outside world. There's a little sign explaining that the conservatory houses the hive as a protective effort.

"They have a new part to it," S says. "I saw it on the website. Down that way."

"Oh," you back up. "Sure, whatever you want to do."

He leads you on. You admire the windows that look onto colonies and tunnels of different insects. You stop short at the next door. 'Butterfly Room.' You look at S. The last time you came, you remember there was one tiny little exhibit of unhatched chrysalis.

You rush through ahead of him in excitement. A blue flutter brushes over your forehead and another flap of yellow sweeps by. You spin as the lazy wings beat around you, others still as butterflies rest on petals or branches. It's a menagerie. A garden full of colours.

You turn and look all around. You're breathless and amazed. In that moment, there's nothing else but the beauty of those creatures.

You smile and tilt your head up. A monarch lands on your nose and you freeze. S laughs and you look over at him as he aims his phone at you. The butterfly flees.

He turns the screen to show you the picture. You blush and rock bashfully. "That's cute."

"It is," he agrees."

"S," you gasp, "this is amazing."

"It is." He looks around and lowers his phone. "It's nice to have someone to enjoy it with."

"It is," you cheep. You turn and follow the path of a white flutter.

You go to the bench and sit. It's bittersweet. It's nice to not be alone, but you wish it was your mom here with you. She's all you have but with her being sick, it only sinks in then, how lonely you've really been. She's there but not really. She's fighting a battle you can't understand.

S sits beside you. He's quiet. You blink away a glaze of tears.

"It's really beautiful," you say. "Thank you so much. I can't... I can't even begin to tell you how much..." You sniff. "How much I appreciate this."

"You don't have to say it," he assures you.

"But I should. There's so much I never say. So much to say. So much I might never have the chance..." you lower your head. "I'm really trying. I don't want to be sad. I don't want to ruin this day." You exhale. "You didn't pay to watch me mope."

"I did. I paid to be close to you. To be with you," he shifts closer. "And whatever that means, is fine with me." He puts his hand on yours, like the day before. It doesn't feel as strange anymore. "I don't want you to think about that. The money. I want you to have a nice day. With me."

You nod and gulp. You breathe out the emotion and look at him.

"Why?" You croak.

He stares at you. His cheek dimples. "I got lucky. I took a chance... and I met you."

He squeezes your hand and you look down. His hand wraps easily around yours. It makes you feel safe. It's been so long since you felt anything close to that.

[msbigredmachine]

Warm (Jey Uso/OC)

An on-again, off-again couple takes the snowy ride to the next town together.

PAIRING: Jey Uso x OC

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning: The usual smut and everything in between.

A/N: First fic of the year! Enjoy!

Click here if you want to be on the tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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"Hey girl, got a sec?"

Looking up to see Nia standing right in front of her, Malia stood up straighter. The locker room was full of her friends and fellow wrestlers, all done for the evening and packing up to leave the arena. "What's up?"

"I totally forgot that I agreed to carpool with Maxxine after the show," she said as they exited the locker room together. "I'm really sorry, it totally slipped my mind."

"Oh, that sucks," Malia said, a little disappointed as Nia was great company. "It's no big deal. I'll figure something out."

"Are you sure? It's starting to snow out there. Will you be okay on your own?"

"Alone on the road with full control of the heating and my own playlist?" Malia laughed. "I'll be fine."

Nia nodded. "Okay. I feel bad, so I'll ask around and see if anyone needs a ride. That way you can split the bills and stuff," she offered, pausing when she looked over Malia's shoulder. "Oooh, look who's coming our way," she grinned.

Curious, Malia turned around, and her heart skipped a beat as Josh Fatu walked in their direction, his carry-on behind him and his phone in front of him. She plastered an unbothered expression on her face and turned back to Nia, but the Irresistible Force saw right through the facade.

"Girl, you're blushing already!" she cackled. "You and him still fucking?"

"No, I'm not blushing. And no, we're not fucking," Not lately anyway, Malia added to herself, fluffing her Afro as nonchalantly as possible.

"Liar. You two crack me up, you're totally in love with each other but keep acting like you're not. I did warn you about the whole friends-with-benefits thing."

She did. And Malia caught feelings and had been trying to run from those feelings since. But not with much success, given that she and Josh were both part of the Monday Night Raw roster and lived in the same goddamn city which gave him plenty of access to her. The problem was she was falling in love and he wasn't, so she tried to save face by imposing an extended 'break' from each other, under the guise of 'seeing other people'. Being alone with him on a long midnight drive wasn't going to help her cause to break away.

"It's a three-hour trip from here to Cleveland. Think you can hold off for that long if you go together?" Nia asked, a little too gleefully for Malia's taste.

"Stop with the slander. You make it sound like I'm this raging nympho," she rebuffed.

"When it comes to him? Yes! I've witnessed it! You jump each other's bones every chance you get. How you guys aren't official, I'll never understand. He's getting closerrrr," Nia sang, clearly enjoying the way Malia was trying not to squirm. "Let me go talk to him."

Malia started to panic as Nia moved towards him. "Where are you going?" she warned, "Nia, no!"

"Um, you want a ride or not? Hey, Joshyyyy!"

"Savelina!" Malia hissed, falling silent when Josh looked up from his phone, his gaze lingering on her for a long, tense beat before moving to Nia. "Sup ladies," he said, tipping his bearded chin up in greeting. His jaw moved repeatedly, and she saw he was chewing gum when he opened his mouth to speak. Juicy Fruit, she predicted. His favorite.

"I heard you're driving by yourself tonight," Nia said to him.

His eyebrows rose skeptically. "Yeah..."

"You want a passenger? Cuz my girl over here needs someone to ride with, in more ways than one..."

"Lina, shut up," Malia cut in, stepping in front of her and meeting Josh head-on. "Forgive our friend, Becky hit her in the head too many times tonight," she explained, her insides warming when Jey laughed. "I was supposed to carpool with bitch over here but she made other plans and left me stranded. So umm...if you're going alone, would you mind if I tagged along?" Why the fuck did she sound like she was asking him to Prom?

Again, the air around them simmered with an unknown element. When he took longer than usual to respond, her heart sank a little. "It's cool if you don't want to, I can find someone else-"

"Nah, it's all good, uce, you can come along," he spoke up with a smile. "But I'm 'bout to leave right now, so if you ready-"

"I am," Malia answered, a bit too quickly, and flushed with embarrassment when the corner of his mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. It was then she realized that Nia had disappeared, leaving the two standing alone in the empty hallway.

"Uhh...We should get going," Malia spoke up, scratching awkwardly at the nape of her curly Afro.

Josh nodded, pausing as his eyes scanned her up and down again. "This what you wearin'?" he inquired.

She made a quick, albeit thorough twirl to show off her outfit, a short, figure-hugging beige dress accompanied by a black pair of furry knee-high Uggs. "Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's a lil' chilly, no? I mean, don't get me wrong, you look real good, it's just-" Catching himself, he trailed off nervously before he could say anything else inappropriate.

"My jacket is right here, I'll be fine. But if I do get too cold, I'm sure you can keep me warm." Her smile was syrupy sweet as she let the innuendo sink in. The awkwardness was melting away, leaving only the sexual synergy they were both accustomed to.

Josh chuckled to himself and stepped closer to her. "A'ight, I see what'chu tryna do," he said in a lower, huskier timbre that made her loins flutter. "Let's get outta here before I do sum'n we'll both like."

She wanted to ask what was stopping him but instead took the hand he held out to her. It was big and protective and the gentle way he rubbed his thumb over hers always made her feel safe. Together they left the building and into the indoor parking lot. He helped her put her things in the trunk of his Ford Expedition rental, and she fought the urge to stare at his ass when he bent over.

As they began their journey, her gaze landed on her on-again, off-again 'boyfriend', his own fixed on the road ahead. Wearing a fitting dual-colored Nike tracksuit, he looked yummy himself. The hand that had held hers was now on the steering wheel, and she found herself wishing it was touching her again but on a more risqué part of her body this time. They were on a 'break' but she envisioned a lot of difficulty keeping things platonic tonight.

"Since when do you listen to Bon Jovi?" She broke the ice several minutes later, talking over the eighties rock ballad that was playing on the radio and was surprised it hadn't been turned off. "You always used to tell me to change that shit," she laughed.

"They not so bad, they got some good workout songs," he defended with a shrug. "How come you didn't take a flight tonight?" he asked.

She gave a shrug of her own. "I don't know. I probably should have. But with the weather and everything, there'd probably be tons of delays at the airport. I would have ended up sitting there all night. How about you?"

"Same. I prefer the open road anyway," he replied. "Drive fast, blast some good music, you know what it is." He shot her a grin, making selections on the GPS. "Everything good? You comfortable?"

Smoothing her dress down her crossed legs, she nodded and tilted her seat back. "Yeah, I'm good," she responded.

"So how was Christmas? Whatchu do? Spend time with your man?" Josh asked.

Malia snorted and flipped her hair. "Ain't no man. He's an insecure bum so he's gone. I stayed with my brother and his family for a few days, played with my nieces, they're so big now."

He wanted to feel bad about the way his heart leapt for joy about her relationship status. "I told you he was a bum from the jump, uce," he mumbled.

"Well, you were right. Congrats," she bit sarcastically.

"I ain't wanna be right though. I just want you to be happy," said Josh, exchanging a glance with her, his stare filled with its familiar warmth that was charged with something else.

Being here is a bad idea.

"What about you? You were with your boys and their mom, I'm guessing," she kept the conversation going.

"More of the boys, less of their mom," he clarified.

"That's it? No woman to warm your bed?"

He snorted and shot her a bombastic side-eye. "If I remember clearly, you sent the last woman I was with packin', with your razor-sharp ass tongue."

Malia burst out laughing. "Ha, that bitch? She's a clout-chasing airhead. One conversation with her and my IQ got fucked up. Stop messin' with those NXT bimbos, Joshua. It's not a good look."

"Why you so pressed though?" He had an idea, but he wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth.

"I'm not pressed. You smarter than that. She wasn't good for you."

"And you know this, how?"

Because she ain't me. None of them are. "I just know," was all she said.

"Huh. We seem to 'know' a lot about each other," Josh noted, "So why don't you want us to stay together?" he asked.

And there it is. "You already know the answer," she responded, with a hint of attitude.

"No I don't, so how 'bout you fill me in, huh," he retorted. They had stopped at a red light so he now had all the time to look her in the eye.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, she refused to get suckered in. "Because. Your roster is deep enough as it is," she mumbled.

"What roster?"

Malia huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, we gonna play dumb now? I'm not the only woman you're fucking, Joshua."

"The last person I had sex with was you, right before you dumped me for ol' boy," Josh replied, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"Correction. I did not dump you. Dumping implies that we were dating," Malia argued. "I distinctly remember you saying you weren't looking for nothin' serious, so it ain't dumping if there's no relationship to dump."

The silence that followed was deafening, even with the music playing. The temperature in the car plummeted several degrees. Josh simply shook his head. "Damn, that how you feel all this time? Okay then." he tsked, releasing the brakes as the light turned green. "A'ight. Note taken."

The hurt swirling in his voice surprised her. Rattled, she opened her mouth to speak, but wisely decided to close it back. Because there really was nothing to say. This was the consequence of getting involved with someone without setting clear boundaries; the result of repeatedly holding off the simple task of defining a relationship — nothing but uncertainty and heartache. It was the bed she made long ago and now she had to lie in it.

But oddly enough, that seemed to be the appeal of entanglements; the thrill, the warped sense of freedom to do whatever you wanted to each other with no strings. But intimacy always had its attachments, and Malia had been attached to Josh for a long, long time with no idea how to cut the strings without getting hurt.

"The snow seems to be getting worse," she changed the subject and with good reason. They seemed to be driving into a storm. The snowfall was heavier and the nearly empty highway was turning white. "Are you sure we'll make it into Cleveland like this?"

Her question was answered only a few seconds later, by the flashing lights and flares up ahead. A car wreck, and a bad one judging from the amount of fire, rescue, and police crews on the scene. As Josh slowed the car to a crawl, they were greeted by a gruesome tableau.

The many bright, flashing lights cast a grotesque glow on the crumpled remains of an SUV. A black bag, zipped and strapped to a stretcher, was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Malia's eyes widened with horror. The mangled car was the same type as theirs, and the driver's seat was covered in blood, a lot of it splattered on the white snow. "Oh no...Babe..." she breathed.

Her voice was tiny. Scared. Josh grabbed her hand and squeezed it repeatedly to get her attention. "Ay, don't look. Look at me," he cajoled, waiting for her to do so, running his thumb over hers to quell her panic. "I'll take the next exit. Let's find somewhere to crash until morning." He cringed. "Bad choice of words. Sorry."

"You don't mind stopping?" she asked, feeling a little sick. There was no way she was going any further with what she'd just witnessed.

"Personally, I'd rather be late gettin' where I'm going than never gettin' there at all."

"I agree. I'll check if there's any available hotels nearby," she offered, reaching for her phone in the console.

"You good?" he checked on her again, his fingers flexing around hers.

"I'm okay. It's just...that was horrible," Malia shuddered. "But you calmed me down. You've always been good at that." She smiled gratefully at him.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in a gentle kiss. He then rested his hand on her bare leg, running it up her smooth chocolate skin. Ironically, her dress gave him perfect access to the sensitivity of her inner thigh, and he allowed his fingers to dance over it.

Malia cast her eyes down to watch his hand disappear under her dress. This was what she liked about him so much; his boldness, his sense of adventure. Only he could dare to touch on her while driving on a dark, sleety highway. "Boy, what are you doin'?" she asked as he squeezed her thigh. She tried to play it cool, tried to act like her skin had not been set ablaze by his touch.

"Keepin' you warm," he affirmed nonchalantly, as he slid his palm over her lace panties, his favorite on her, enjoying the feel of her moist warmth against the fabric. He had since learned that he couldn't stay mad at her for long. "I miss you," he whispered, breaching her underwear with one finger.

"I miss you too," she admitted, jerking as the finger slipped inside of her. "Oh, shit," she gasped, tilting her head back against the leather headrest.

"Phew, you wet as fuck," Josh whistled, eyeing up his ex with a Cheshire Cat-like grin. "Ol' boy wasn't fuckin' you like he should?"

Before she could answer, he slid another digit into her wetness, drawing another moan from her. She moved her legs further apart, causing her dress to ride higher up, and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Fuck, yeah," she sighed, going slack in her seat.

Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea, Josh realized, as the sound of her wanton moans filled the car. As her pussy tightened around his fingers. He wasn't doing much for his own erect state by doing this, but the look on her face convinced him to keep going. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. "How's that feel, hmm?" he asked.

The only response she could muster was another breathy moan while strengthening her grip on his wrist. She didn't want to come just yet, but between his fingers twisting deep inside her tightening core and the added heat rushing through her, she knew she wouldn't last long. She wanted this to last forever, just like every time she was with him; she clung desperately to every second, because each one was always better than the last. He just hit different. He always did.

The spell broke when she heard him curse and he abruptly stopped, slipping his fingers out of her. "The fuck?" she whined.

"Sorry, I had to," Josh explained, pointing. The smoky haze of passion and frustration cleared quickly enough for her to realize they had left the expressway and were now pulling into the parking lot of a hotel. Crossing her arms petulantly, she sat up straighter and pouted. "Goddamn tease. You ain't slick," she grumbled.

"Nope. But you are," he emphasized, holding up his fingers covered in her essence and bringing them to his mouth. "Mmm, sweet and spicy, like always."

His dirty snicker had her pussy clenching again. This man was going to be the death of her.

Parking the Expedition in front of the hotel door, they rushed in with their bags to the check-in desk and found the exhausted-looking receptionist behind the counter. It was clear they'd had a massive influx of people and that she was the only one handling everything.

"You're just in luck. We have one room left," the lady replied when Josh asked her if they had any vacancies. "It's probably our smallest room and only has one queen-sized bed, but it's perfect for a lovely couple like yourselves," she smiled warmly.

"We'll take it," Josh responded, handing over his credit card before Malia could reject it. Given the state of the weather outside and that horrendous crash they came across, it was likely the best, safest option.

They got the keycards and made a quick stop at the nearby Chipotle to get some food. Josh paid again, boxing Malia against the counter with his big frame and frowning menacingly at the cashier who had the nerve to flirt with her. Though there technically was no territory to mark, she didn't mind. Besides, it was cold outside and his body heat was inviting and much needed. Afterwards, they returned to the hotel and made it into the small room that was warm, toasty, and quite clean, making them feel a bit better that they wouldn't be stuck in some Bates Motel-type murder house.

"Last time we were stuck in a room together, we spent all afternoon working out how many pinning combinations we could make each other come in," Malia reminisced as she bit into her burrito.

"Yeah. I remember winning," Josh grinned proudly. "You can have the bed, by the way," he gestured to her. "Imma sleep on the couch, give you some space."

"Why?" Malia gave him a stern look. "The bed is big enough for both of us. Plus, your back will be fucked up if you sleep on that lil ass couch."

She wasn't wrong; the couch felt rather firm and it wouldn't be pleasant. Josh was trying to be a gentleman, but he ultimately agreed since driving tomorrow with a backache did not sound ideal.

After finishing their meals, they settled in, and Malia texted the Talent Relations rep to inform them of her and Josh's whereabouts. Unfortunately, the weather forecast on TV was pretty grim as they were expecting upwards of forty inches of snow. Getting to their destination in time tomorrow would be a tough ask.

Josh used the bathroom first to give Malia some privacy. When he re-emerged, she was stripped down to a short white bathrobe that did nothing to hide that body of hers, giving him a little peek of her voluptuous behind as she picked up her toilet bag.

Fuck.

"Babe, do you got a spare shirt I can sleep in?" She stood back upright, her throat drying up at the sight of his towel hanging low on his hips. She watched the rivulets of water drip down his tattooed chest and felt parched.

Josh swallowed. "Sure, I got somethin'." He crossed the room, reached inside his open luggage and pulled out a 'YEET' hoodie. "This okay?"

He gazed into her eyes, and Malia felt her knees quiver, almost like they were threatening to collapse beneath her. "Yeah, thanks," she smiled, taking the hoodie.

"You called me babe again." There was a small, teasing smile on his face.

Malia felt her face burn. "Oh, um...Yeah. Habit. Sorry..." Lost for words, she quickly departed, silently willing her limbs to not give out on her.

Waiting until the door had closed behind her, Josh sank down on the bed and tried to focus on the TV. He could hear her moving around. Brushing her teeth. Undressing. Rubbing his face, he groaned when he heard the shower start. After their argument in the car and what he did afterwards, his emotions were all over the place, and now they had to share this bed. Keeping his hands to himself was going to be a tough ask.

Keep your hands to yourself, Malia repeated to herself over and over as she finished up her skincare routine. It's just one night. Behave yourself. What happened in the car meant nothing.

Yes it did, the voice she fondly named 'Delulu', debated, He misses you, he said so himself. That's why he acted the way he did in the car. That's why he almost bit that cashier's head off in Chipotle.

She had a point. She recalled the full-blown lust in his eyes as he touched her, the eager movement of his fingers inside her as though he couldn't stop himself. Overall, it felt good to know he wasn't quite over her just as she wasn't quite over him.

Don't do it, her other voice, dubbed 'You Right' because it always was, warned. You're just his plaything, always have been. Why do you want to play house with a guy who doesn't love you like you love him? He just misses the pussy. That's it.

Good point.

But I miss the dick too! 'Delulu' pouted.

'You Right' rolled her eyes. Too bad. Take another shower, a cold one this time.

With a heavy sigh, Malia wrapped up her hair and put on her pajamas for the night. The hoodie was big on her, reaching her thighs. She decided against panties, having made up her mind about the voice she was going to listen to.

She returned to the warmth of the bedroom, instantly landing on the ruggedly handsome man stretched out on the left side of the bed. His favorite side. His gaze flickered from the TV to her, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"You make my merch look so sexy, baby," he commented.

"Why thank you Daddy," she replied, then froze, her eyes wide. Shit, did she just say that out loud? Judging from the heated look in his eyes, the answer was yes. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife as they regarded each other.

Sitting up straight in the bed, Josh clapped his hands. "A'ight, enough of this. Come here," he growled.

She thought he would never ask. She hurried to the bed and crawled towards him. He sat up straighter and reached for her, their lips crashing together before he had finished pulling her onto his lap. All the weeks of pent-up urges and desires came pouring out of them both as they kissed like the desperate, needy souls they had become. They only pulled back long enough to take off his t-shirt before they embraced again. His bronzed skin was warm underneath her palms, the touch of his hands seemingly burning through the hoodie onto her own.

Without breaking the kiss, Josh shifted so that they were lying on their sides, helping her tug his sweatpants down his hips. Once they were gone, he pulled her tightly against him as he slid his leg between hers, draping her top leg over his waist. He then pushed his hands under her hoodie, his fingers digging into her waist to grind her against his thigh. Malia smiled at his surprised gasp, his realization that she was wearing his merch and only that. She knew he could feel the moistness of her core, smearing his upper thigh as their kisses got even more heated. She let him pull off the hoodie, and Josh's eyes blazed with need as he gathered her right breast in his hand and devoured it with sucks and licks. Meanwhile her hand wrapped around his dick, stroking for a few moments before easing him inside her.

"Oh, shit," Josh froze, his expression slightly panicked, "I ain't got-"

"Calm down, I still got my IUD. You good." She kissed his lips and reared back a little, letting him push fully inside her, and he ripped his mouth from hers in a low groan and tucked his face in her neck.

"Fuck, Malia..."

She moaned with him, gripping his muscular shoulders as he moved inside her, and groaned again when his hand scraped down her back to squeeze her ass cheek tightly.

"Mmmph..."

"Yeah, I know you like that," he whispered, slapping her ass this time, his breath hot and heavy against her face. "Say my name baby, call out for me."

"Joshua...Daddy..."

"Mm-hmm, I love it. God, you're fuckin' beautiful," he said, his voice rough with need as he tongue-kissed her slowly, matching his grinding thrusts, sending chills running all over her body.

"Ohhh," she gasped, tensing in his arms, bewildered by her desire for him.

"Relax. I gotchu," he promised with another hungry, borderline sloppy kiss. He was nearing the pit of her stomach with his lengthening strokes, but he wanted more. He held up her thick thigh, automatically sliding him even deeper inside her. A big smile lit up his face as her mouth fell open; he knew she could feel all of it, the head of his dick toying with her g-spot, her breathing quickening as her slick moisture made its presence known with every push of his dick into her.

"Hear that?" Josh whispered, "Hear how wet you are?"

Malia dug her nails into his skin, staccato breaths pulling from her lungs as he rammed up into her again and again. "Shit," she whined, "Aw fuck, please don't stop," she begged, tears gathering in her eyes at the thought of him ceasing his actions.

"I ain't stoppin' baby." He couldn't seem to stop kissing her, doing it again as he increased his speed, his dick all up in her wet pussy. The sensations were dizzying, taking her to another dimension. "Uuuunh," she cried out with a shudder, the flutter of her pussy around his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

"You wanna come, babe? Wanna come for Daddy huh?" He pressed his forehead against hers, his hypnotic eyes holding her gaze as her whimpers for him grew louder. "Come, Malia," he urged with gritted teeth, his heart pounding from the emotions vibrating through him. "Come, baby girl. Nut on Daddy's dick. You look so beautiful when you come."

Malia heard what sounded like waves crashing in her ears. Immediately her body seized up, and her voice was a high-pitched cry as the pleasure ripped through her. Moaning his name repeatedly, her head fell back and she saw stars as the bliss took over.

Man, she missed being touched like this, kissed like this...fucked like this.

Still trembling, she was vaguely aware of him pulling out, letting her leg down and rolling on top of her. Stroking her face, he stared at her with a mix of wonder and tenderness and something else she couldn't quite determine in his eyes.

"What?" she pressed.

Josh licked his lips, looked away for a second and then back at her.

"I love you."

She expected to be shocked, stunned by his declaration. Instead, it felt more like a eureka moment, like she had finally cracked a passcode she had been struggling with for eons, like the world had at last righted itself after an eternity of confusion.

"What took you so long?" she asked, emotion seeping through her tone.

"I don't know," he confessed, and when her brows furrowed, he elaborated. "I just know I can't do this no more. I'm fuckin' tired. I been feelin' this way for too long. You the only one that makes me feel like this."

"Like how?" she breathed. She wanted to hear it, wanted to know if his agony has been anything similar to hers for the past couple of months.

"Like I'm empty inside when I'm not with you. Even when I'm with someone else, I feel like I'm cheating on you," he went on, suddenly feeling free, unburdened. "I can't stop thinking about you, can't function...I don't just want sex, Malia. That's all good but I wanna be your man. For real this time. I want you."

There it was again, that intensity in his eyes that never failed to steal what was left of her breath. If this was a dream, she did not want to wake up. "I love you too. I wanna be with you. Let's not break up ever again. I don't like not being around you," she admitted.

"Same here," he said, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was so passionate, so deep and all-consuming, that she struggled to hang on to her sanity. She groaned against his mouth as he found his way back inside her with a couple of swift, seamless strokes. Her wetness instantly enveloped him again, prompting his hips to roll seemingly on their own accord. Malia wound her arms around him, holding him as close to her as possible. There was no more talk after that, letting their bodies do the talking, writhing together as if they were meant to exist that way.

"Wrap your legs around me, baby," he told her.

Immediately, she wound them around his waist with her ankles locked tight behind his lower back as he rocked into her. She moved with him, matching his tempo in a sweet symphony. There was no space between their flesh; and whatever tiny space remained was closed off with delicious, decadent kisses with lots of tongue. They savored every second in each other, every gasp and moan they elicited from the other. Her wetness compromised the friction between them as his dick slipped in and out of her with ease that still kept her walls snug and taut around him.

"God, you feel so good, baby," she moaned in his ear, weaving her fingers through his soft hair, anchoring him to her as though fearful that he would slip away at any given moment.

"I can feel you dripping all over my dick. You make me wanna pound this good pussy," he mumbled against her neck, his tongue swiping over her heated skin.

"Then pound it," she murmured, spearing him with a hot, hungry look when their eyes met. "Pound my pussy, Daddy, I need it," she practically begged, her voice a pleading whine.

"Bet." Caressing her thighs for a few seconds, he then propped her legs on each of his broad shoulders. Her gaze met the ceiling, clouded over with lust as he hunched over her, working his big dick in her. All she could see within the bluish hue of the small room was his larger, muscular body looming over her, like a glowing, almost nightclub-like dreamscape. His chest tattoos were a beautiful mural that she couldn't stop herself from worshiping, and she leaned up to drag her tongue along his nipple, flicking the hard bud playfully as she caressed his triceps. She was rewarded with harder snaps of his hips, his balls mashing against her ass from how deep he was digging. Every time she tried to look at it, she would grow weak from the sensitivity and fall back against the bed.

"Fuck, Joshua..."

"Mmhmm, I know it feel good. Your tight little pussy is creaming for me," he rasped. Holding her down to the bed, he circled his hips while buried in her for good measure, making her pussy greedily grip the entirety of his girthy length and wringing moans of pleasure from both of them. Dipping her hand down between her thighs, she rubbed on her clit only for her eyes to roll back as an intense fire lit inside her like a firework. Then, clearly intending to destory her, he sat back on his knees and wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding them to his chest as he thrust faster and harder.

"Oh my god," Malia sighed, planting one hand up against the headboard to steady herself. She could feel her breasts bouncing recklessly with each stroke, felt his long fingers grab one and massage it in his hands, then the other, arousing her even more. His dick pulsed inside her as she tightened around him with increasing frequency. She willingly let him take her as he wanted, because she wanted to feel all of him, savor the sight of him breaking down and plunging headfirst into that secret place of pleasure that belonged to them and them alone.

The tricky part was Josh wanted to take her there first. He switched up again by pinning her knees into the pillow on either side of her head, opening her wide. He fucked her like a man possessed, the force of his movements knocking the bed hard and repeatedly against the wall. His hard, pounding thrusts had her pushing her face into the pillow and screaming into it. They hoped the room was soundproof. Either way, he didn't stop, not until the coil inside her body unraveled, and Malia screamed again as she came, hard and hot, her orgasm flushing through her like a tidal wave. It was the sweetest, the realest, the product of the joining of not just their bodies, but something deeper, too.

Josh must have been thinking the same thing, because when he stopped to stare her down again with those beautiful eyes of his, they glittered with warmth and affection. They gazed at each other, the stunned joy of their shared feelings morphing into something richer, something fiercer. He really did love her, she could see it right there on his face. She didn't quite know how she managed to miss it before.

The air between them thickened as they remembered they were still naked and entwined. Reverting back to their primal, passionate state, Josh moved again, thrusting all up in her dripping tightness. Malia gripped his hips to pull him deeper, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass as he pounded into her with newfound ruthlessness. The mattress squeaked underneath them, mixing with their moans and whimpers and the wet slapping sounds of their bodies. He was close; his strokes became increasingly erratic, his grunts heavier and more vocal, his cock pulsing inside her pussy and his balls tightening.

"Fuuuck, I'm comin' baby, come catch this nut," he pulled out of her and quickly straddled her torso, stroking his dick in her face. Malia opened her mouth wide and poked out her tongue, watching his gorgeous face twist in painful pleasure as he unloaded in her mouth, thick spurts of his salty sweet cum flooding her tongue. Completely turned on, she rubbed herself with one hand and grabbed his dick with the other, stroking him harder to milk him to the last drop. His deep, throaty groan broke her all over again, plummeting her into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer power of his.

Josh's chest heaved as he watched her slap his dick on her open tongue, coated white with his release. He then ordered in a husky voice, "Swallow it."

Malia obeyed heartily, slipping his cum down her throat then gently sucked him off for a couple of seconds, moaning softly from the unique taste of him mixed with her. Josh fought off the urge to nudge his dick deeper into her mouth and pulled away to lie down next to her. The realization of what had just happened must have hit both of them at the same time, because with one glance at each other, they burst out laughing.

"Damn," was all she had the energy to utter, allowing him to pull her against him as their joint laughter rumbled between them. He fucked the shit out of her. She felt like a brand new woman, even now, as he ran his hands all over her body, gifting her with a breathless kiss to her succulent lips. "I guess Lina's plan worked," she giggled, snuggling against him.

"Yeah," Josh agreed, his features suddenly serious as he carefully tucked a loose piece of her hair back underneath her scarf. "I ain't like how you be pushin' me away, Malia," he grumbled, "Don't be scared of us and what we got."

Not for the first time, she wished she'd been brave enough to express her true feelings. "It's not you I'm scared of... I'm scared of us falling apart if we become serious, and I don't wanna live without you," she confessed.

Josh chuckled and pressed his mouth to each of her palms. "You already can't," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smacked his arm. "You don't gotta agree."

"It's the truth though. But like I said, I love you and I'm not going anywhere. I mean that," he promised.

Hearing those three words from him again made her feel all giddy inside. "I love you, too," she whispered, smiling softly against his lips when he dropped a tender kiss to hers.

"How long's it been since we last fucked?" he inquired.

Two months and three weeks, but who was counting? "Couple of months," she answered, keeping it cool.

"Shame on us. I think we can make up for it, right?"

Malia raised an eyebrow when he started to crawl down her body, sprinkling butterfly kisses down her belly until his head was between her legs. Her body flushed with need. "You know we need to go to bed, right?" she questioned, her fingers sneaking into his hair despite her half-hearted protest.

"I know. But this pretty pussy is callin' my name." He winked at her and bit gently on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her throbbing treasure, soothing the skin with a wet lick. Her keening moan was all he needed to hear. "Now lay your sexy ass back and let Daddy eat."

And with that, he bent his head and spread his mouth over her, wiping every rational thought she owned with mind blowing pleasure.

THE END

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

So...did you like it?

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

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[noxitsnox]

hyun-ju x barista!m!reader

summary: at work, you stumble upon an old friend.

tags: talks of highschool, fluff, kinda coffee shop au (reader is a barista and owns a cafè)

m/n - male name

l/n - last name

a/n: request, it's really short sorryyyyyyyy i hope you like it anyway <3

sorry if it took so long i've been busy studying 😭

"latte for hyun-ju!" you said a bit louder than intended. the shop wasn't very crowed, but there were still a few people and by now you had learned that inside cafés people become deaf.

a tall- and quite beatiful one must say- woman approached. she took her coffee but she didn't leave, instead she looked down clearly embarassed, before clearing her voice. "sorry if it sounds weird, but... are you m/n?"

you giggled, pointing to your name tag. "yep, the one and only!"

"oh l/n m/n?" she specified.

she was looking right at you with her big brown eyes. you were so lost inside of them you didn't even question why or how this random woman knew your last name. "still me" you laughed. "do i know you?"

"i think we were together in highschool. classmates. i'm cho hyun-ju."

you looked at her again, quietly studying her face. she did look familiar, even if you were pretty sure there wasn't any "hyun-ju"in your class. and honestly, you could've forgotten the name as the years went by, but that face? you would have remembered such a beautiful face even if someone had erased your memory.

"oh really? i don't remember anyone with your name in my class tho..."

"ah damn, well..."

---

that day hyun-ju and you talked for hours, remembering old times. she actually was in your class, just by another name. you exchanged your phone number with the promise of meeting up again some day.

she wasn't just extremely beautiful, she seemed to have been written by a poet. the more you got to know her the more you fell for her.

she confessed that she used to have a crush on you, she never told you because she was scared of your reaction. she said it laughing, as if the idea of having a crush on you now was ridiculous. you teased her a little bit, but inside you were punching your highschool self for losing such an opportunity.

it's no big deal, you said to yourself, you still had this one date- you needed to consider it a day to stay sane- to win her heart all over again.

you did made her fall for you all over again. that afternoon you made her remember exactly why she liked you in highschool.

your calm demeanor, your slightly awkward manner, and your dry sense of humor... everything brought her back to those times.

ever since you two got together she had been your muse. every new dessert, new coffee was inspired by her.

not only that, she was also the final judge. she was the first one to try out your new recipies and at times she would suggest something to include in the menu.

sometimes, when she finished work earlier, she would come at your café and wait for the closing time with you. she'd quietly sit at a table in a corner to do her own things and at times you'd bring her some coffee or some cake. she didn't have to ask for them, you didn't give her time to finish her cup before you went to fill it up again.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part I/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, smoking

A/N: okay I'm like three parts into this and it's gonna have the same vibe as this other fanfic (I've been wanting to flesh it out for a while), so if you're not into multiparts and prefer a similar, shorter version, go check that one out. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this one. That said, enjoy <3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

SLAM!

"Jesus!" Malarkey jolted on his bed, the cards Toye, Skip and him had been tossing on the mattress springing for an instant.

Maybe I had shut the barracks' door a bit too harsh.

"Tryna take it off the hinges?" Toye's tease was accompanied by a quirk of his brow and an unamused stare.

"Sorry." I grumbled with a wry face and not much feeling, making my way to my bed. "You seen Roe? Nixon's looking for him."

"I think he's on patrol duty in about an hour— what was that about?" Malark sat up straighter, setting his cards aside.

Before I could dismiss him whilst going through my belongings, Skip jumped into the conversation, feigning concentration in the game. "This is probably about Liebgott." A mischievous grin lit up his face when I looked over my shoulder to glare at him.

"Why would it be about Liebgott?" I hissed, turning to grab the book I was looking for.

Skip raised his eyes from the cards to give me a knowing stare. "Is it not?"

"So what if it is?" The three men shared a half amused, half stale glance and turned to me, the card game forgotten.

"What'd he do now?" Toye's question carried the exhaustion of a man who had listened to the same complaints too many times in the span of a few months.

"He just— ugh!" I threw my hands at the air, throwing my bag back under my bed with too much strength.

"Did he even have time to annoy you this much?" Skip was particularly enjoying this, unlike our two friends.

"Weren't you organizing supplies?"

"Yeah, Don. I was." I retraced my steps, not reaching the door just yet and instead making a stop by the boys' side. "But he was there. For fuck's sake— he's always there." I muttered the last part through my teeth, that anger I had barely gotten rid of growing exponentially at the mere thought of him. "Do you have any idea of how insufferable he is?"

Malarkey and Toye shared unspoken words momentarily before the redhead looked back up at me. "You could say we have some."

"He's not that annoying." Skip's oblivious comment earned him a slap from Don. "What?"

"He's not that annoying to you."

"Here we go." Toye groaned, fully shifting his body to me, knowing this wasn't going to be a short conversation.

"You have no idea of how much of a pain in the ass he can be." I began, already wound up by the not so willing interaction I was forced to have with Liebgott moments ago. "And you know why you don't know?"

"Surprise me." Skip was entertaining me. We all noticed, but I was yet to turn down an opportunity to rant about my own personal torment.

"Because it's not big stuff, it's— it's the endless little things. Like right now, you know what he did?" I didn't even wait for Skip's mock-serious cue. "I'm there, trying to organize the goddamn supplies and he just waltzes in with a shit ass comment about how I'm 'a bit too precise'." I accompanied the last part with a mocking tone and air quotation marks. "Who says that?! It's like he always has to get his two cents in, and I know he does it to bother me— don't give me that look." I warned Don, hitting his shoulder with the book in my hand.

"I didn't say anything!" He complained, trying and failing to hide the amused grin on his face.

"You know you're giving him what he wants, right?" Skip pointed out, taking the cigarette tucked behind his ear to his lips.

"What?"

"C'mon it's Liebgott. He wants to get a rise out of you." He shrugged, lighting up the smoke and taking a drag out of it. "And you're letting him."

"You think she doesn't know that?" Toye scoffed, giving me a side glance which I reciprocated.

"Oh, shut up." I rolled my eyes, plopping down on the bunk besides them. "I'm not gonna... What? Shut up and take it?"

"Have you tried that yet?" Skip asked with a raised brow.

"I'm not gonna try that." I stated, baffled at his suggestion. "That's what he wants. He wants me to go speechless, I just know. It's so obvious, with that damn attitude and the sarcasm and the way he'll just get me going until I run out of things to say— Don, I swear to God."

"I. Didn't. Say. Anything." He followed each of his words with a pause.

"You're looking at me like I'm nuts!"

"He's looking at you like you're stupid." Toye deadpanned taking the cigarette Skip offered him. " 'Cause you're fuckin' stupid, Y/n."

"I'm not stupid, I'm fed up." I hissed back at my friend. "Everyday, Toye, everyday for what? five months?" I stood up again. "He and his stupid jabs that are almost funny— like he's expecting me to, I don't know, laugh at them?"

"So you find him funny?"

"Don't put those words in my mouth." I warned Skip. "I said almost."

"Right."

There was a beat of silence from which I decided to move on, going back to the main topic. "It's not only that. It's the way he has to be right about everything, too. Like- first of all, he's not right about anything. Ever. Second of all—"

"Oh, and you are?" Skip cut me off, a taunting tinge in his question.

"Yeah, when it comes to him, I am." There was an unhealthy pride in my words, and by the look on Skip's face, that's exactly what he wanted. "And even if I wasn't, do you think I'd give him the satisfaction of—"

"Okay, this is ridiculous." He cut me off again, motioning at me whilst looking at our friends. "You noticed, right?"

"Hmm, I don't know Skip. We only had this conversation about a million times." Malark retorted.

"You're not annoyed by whatever Liebgott's doing." Muck spoke as if he had reached some kind of revelation. "You're annoyed because you two have the same playbook."

"I don't have—"

"Yeah, you do." Toye took a drag out of his recently lit Lucky Strike without sparing me a single glance.

"I don't. He's cocky and loud and argumentative and competitive—"

"And you're not." Skip could barely hold back his laugh, his eyes examining the two men's faces.

"I'm... Efficient."

Toye snorted. "That's what we're calling it now?"

"I'm calling it how it is."

"Face it. You're cut from the same cloth and it annoys the fuck out of you." Skip reached for the cards, silently agreeing with Toye and Malarkey that it was best to start over, and began to shuffle them.

"The same cloth my ass. He's an infuriating motherfucker." Don shook his head with a soft chuckle, taking the cards his best friend handed him. "I can't just— I have enough to worry about as it is, and he's out here making me argue over shit I don't even know if it's worth arguing over, just because— I don't know. It's not like he gives me time to think it through anyway."

"So you're also mad because he's quick. Or" Skip raised his pointer finger as if to sush me before I could argue back. "quick enough to keep up with you?"

It was the second time in the span of a couple of hours that I found myself at a loss of words— something I clearly wasn't a fan of.

"Okay, fuck this." I put a full stop on the conversation, muttering a mildly irritated goodbye to the boys before taking the barracks door and heading to the now empty mess hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

JOE'S P. O. V.

"I seriously don't get why you like her." I heard a dramatic sigh coming from the adjacent toilet.

"We're gonna do this again?"

What a way to finish such a magnificent day— latrine duty with Luz and Penkala.

"We're gonna do this until I get why you think she's worth anyone's time." I retorted at the Portuguese jokester, moving on to another toilet.

"Because she's as tough as they come." George sounded a bit too tired of listening to me for someone whose personality was based on going on and on about the same topic for hours. "Back me up, Penk."

"She's real smart." Penkala jumped in with a shrug, mopping the far corner of the bathroom. "And quick with words."

"Yeah, she keeps up with pretty much everything."

"Oh, c'mon." I scoffed, sitting back on my heels. "She's just a glorified pretty face."

"You know it's the third time you called her pretty in" Luz checked his watch with an arched brow. "an hour?" I rolled my eyes at his tease, poorly masked as an observation.

"That's all she is. She shouldn't even be here." I cursed under my breath when Penkala accidentally hit me with the mop. "The fuck was that for?"

"You're being a dick." He deadpanned absentmindedly.

"And it's getting old." Luz said, passing behind me to clean a different toilet. "Just admit you're ticked 'cause you found someone who can give you a run for your money." Penkala's quiet laugh put a shit eating grin on George's face. "and it's a girl."

"Yeah, sure, a run for my money. She's all talk, always with her little comebacks. Miss always-gotta-have-the-last-word." My voice was a bitter mock. "Stubborn little bitch."

"Hey!" Luz's palm smacked the back of my neck, making my head snap in his direction with a warning glare. "You're not gonna land her with that shit, y'know?"

"What makes you think I wanna land her?"

Penkala left the mop aside and crouched to help Luz pick up the cloths we had used to clean everything. "You haven't shut up about her since we came in."

"Yeah," Luz breathed out an exhausted groan when both him and Penkala raised to their feet. "you're starting to sound a little obsessed. If it's always like this," George lend me a hand to pull me up, which I gladly took. "I feel sorry for Tab."

"You're so damn funny." I clapped back, sarcasm dripping from my tongue as George pulled me up. "Should start a comedy show."

"So I've been told." We hadn't even left the latrine and Luz was already pulling out his pack of cigarettes. "C'mon Penky," he called for our friend, placing a cigarette on his lips before offering me one from the pack. "we're waitin' on you."

He did the same with Penkala once he joined us to leave for the barracks. I was attempting to light the smoke Luz had given us with my worn out lighter when she walked out of the mess hall.

Luz cursed under his breath, doing a half turn when he noticed Y/n strolling past us like we weren't there.

"A bit late to be wandering around, don't you think?" I called out with the cigarette still in my mouth, loud enough for her to catch it clear as day.

"A bit late to be fucking annoying, don't you think?" Her spat matched my volume, barely throwing a glance over her shoulder without slowing down as she passed by.

"Jesus Christ... Good night, Y/n!" The wind brought us a faint 'Night, Luz!' before we lost her in the camp's pitch black night.

"She's unbelievable." I muttered under my breath, tilting my head down for Penkala to light my cigarette with his own lighter.

Luz shook his head with disappointment. "You're unbelievable."

Yeah, right. Me.