#in fact i’m sure it’s intentionally bad

[waltricia]

Of course he loves her, she laughed at this terrible pun.

And the fact that she laughed is how you know she loves him. Literally, if he wasn’t so unaware of who he is, he could’ve caught on way sooner. smh dumbass lol

[eelhound]

"The idea of reforming Omelas is a pleasant idea, to be sure, but it is one that Le Guin herself specifically tells us is not an option. No reform of Omelas is possible — at least, not without destroying Omelas itself:

If the child were brought up into the sunlight out of that vile place, if it were cleaned and fed and comforted, that would be a good thing, indeed; but if it were done, in that day and hour all the prosperity and beauty and delight of Omelas would wither and be destroyed. Those are the terms.

'Those are the terms', indeed. Le Guin’s original story is careful to cast the underlying evil of Omelas as un-addressable — not, as some have suggested, to 'cheat' or create a false dilemma, but as an intentionally insurmountable challenge to the reader. The premise of Omelas feels unfair because it is meant to be unfair. Instead of racing to find a clever solution ('Free the child! Replace it with a robot! Have everyone suffer a little bit instead of one person all at once!'), the reader is forced to consider how they might cope with moral injustice that is so foundational to their very way of life that it cannot be undone. Confronted with the choice to give up your entire way of life or allow someone else to suffer, what do you do? Do you stay and enjoy the fruits of their pain? Or do you reject this devil’s compromise at your own expense, even knowing that it may not even help? And through implication, we are then forced to consider whether we are — at this very moment! — already in exactly this situation. At what cost does our happiness come? And, even more significantly, at whose expense? And what, in fact, can be done? Can anything?

This is the essential and agonizing question that Le Guin poses, and we avoid it at our peril. It’s easy, but thoroughly besides the point, to say — as the narrator of 'The Ones Who Don’t Walk Away' does — that you would simply keep the nice things about Omelas, and work to address the bad. You might as well say that you would solve the trolley problem by putting rockets on the trolley and having it jump over the people tied to the tracks. Le Guin’s challenge is one that can only be resolved by introspection, because the challenge is one levied against the discomforting awareness of our own complicity; to 'reject the premise' is to reject this (all too real) discomfort in favor of empty wish fulfillment. A happy fairytale about the nobility of our imagined efforts against a hypothetical evil profits no one but ourselves (and I would argue that in the long run it robs us as well).

But in addition to being morally evasive, treating Omelas as a puzzle to be solved (or as a piece of straightforward didactic moralism) also flattens the depth of the original story. We are not really meant to understand Le Guin’s 'walking away' as a literal abandonment of a problem, nor as a self-satisfied 'Sounds bad, but I’m outta here', the way Vivier’s response piece or others of its ilk do; rather, it is framed as a rejection of complacency. This is why those who leave are shown not as triumphant heroes, but as harried and desperate fools; hopeless, troubled souls setting forth on a journey that may well be doomed from the start — because isn’t that the fate of most people who set out to fight the injustices they see, and that they cannot help but see once they have been made aware of it? The story is a metaphor, not a math problem, and 'walking away' might just as easily encompass any form of sincere and fully committed struggle against injustice: a lonely, often thankless journey, yet one which is no less essential for its difficulty."

- Kurt Schiller, from "Omelas, Je T'aime." Blood Knife, 8 July 2022.

[moonstruckme]

summary: your roommate James plots to befriend a shy you

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The apartment is loud and messy when you come home, and James immediately feels bad about it. You freeze in the door like a doe in the woods, a few of his friends pausing their conversations to greet you from where they’re scattered haphazardly about the living room. 

You give a terse smile and beeline for the stairs. You’re wearing your work clothes, dirty and rumpled from a long shift, and it doesn’t escape James’ notice that you’ve bypassed the kitchen in your hurry to get to your room. You seem to have an aversion to being witnessed. He makes a mental note to check that you’ve eaten later. 

“Oh, do you work at Rizzo’s?” Lily asks you, evidently recognizing the uniform. You stall halfway up the stairs, and James suppresses a smile at your obvious reluctance. 

“Yeah,” you reply, voice even quieter than usual. 

“My friend works there.” Lily’s friendly demeanor is unphased by your timidity. The two of you have met before, like you’ve met most of his friends, in passing. “Do you know Mona?” 

You nod, easing up a bit. James wonders at the fact that you’ve lingered as long as you have, but then he notices Sirius noticing you, and he prays his friend doesn’t say anything to make you regret it. 

“Yeah, we’ve worked some of the same shifts,” you say. “She’s nice.” 

Lily grins at the confirmation. James braces himself as Sirius angles his head. 

“What do you do there, lovely?” 

The endearment instantly flusters you. Your shoulders tighten and your hand flexes on the banister as though to keep yourself from bolting. “I’m a host,” you say. 

“That’s nice.” Sirius’ grin is intentionally disarming, lopsided and flirtatious. You look as though you’re not sure what to make of it. “I’m sure it makes for good business to have the pretty girls welcoming customers.” 

It’s your last straw. You mumble something about it being nice to see them and all but dash up to your room. James hears your door shut with a soft click. 

Sirius frowns. “Skittish thing, isn’t she?” 

“Tosser.” Remus pulls him roughly against his side, rolling his eyes when Sirius wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s torso sulkily. 

“I was paying her a compliment.”  

“She’s just shy.” James doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain you, exactly. Your diffidence is fairly obvious now, but he still feels a bit guilty for thinking you just hated him when he first moved in. After knowing Remus for so long, he thought he’d be able to tell the difference between shyness and standoffishness. Now apparently he feels responsible for liaising between you and his friends. “You knew you were going to embarrass her, prick.” 

The conversation turns to Sirius’ tendency to verbally prod at those with quieter demeanors, which he denies vehemently and Remus corroborates with pointed looks but not much commentary. 

Once they’ve gone, James goes up to your room with a sandwich. The door is cracked but he knocks anyway, waiting for your quiet “come in” before he pushes it the rest of the way open. 

“Figured you might’ve missed dinner,” he says by way of greeting, going to set the plate down on your bed. 

It takes effort not to let his eyes roam the room. He can see in his periphery that your desk is cluttered but neat and your walls covered with pictures and art. An effect of your reticence is that, aside from what sort of shampoo you use and how often you need to restock the milk in the fridge, James knows very little about you. He knows you’re a good roommate. You’re clean, you don’t bicker about the thermostat, and you haven’t even seemed cross with him for eating the rest of your oreos (which he’s going to replace, seriously, as soon as he remembers to go to the store). You’re quiet, obviously, but along with that you seem kind. 

Honestly, it makes him a bit uncomfortable that you don’t seem to want to be friends. James is only human; he likes being liked, even more so by nice girls with pretty smiles, and it seems crucial that he be liked by nice girls with pretty smiles who he shares a living space with. If you’re going to brush your teeth using the same sink as somebody, you should be on good terms. James believes this. 

And though he hasn’t had to work so hard for friendship in some years, he is diligent. He thinks he’ll bring you around yet. 

Evidence of progress: the happy-surprised look in your eyes when you spot the sandwich. 

“Thank you,” you say, a tender sort of bemusement lining your words. “You didn’t have to do this.” 

“Well, if you’ve actually missed dinner, you probably ought to eat something more substantial,” James hedges. He pushes his luck, sitting across from you on your bed. “I don’t want to be an accomplice to your snacks-for-meals agenda.” That wins him a small smile. “But I do feel bad, keeping you from your own kitchen because I have friends over.” 

Your eyes flit away at the last bit. You take a hearty bite of your sandwich, chewing to avoid a reply.

“You should know, you are actually paying rent for the whole apartment,” he says, “not just your room.” 

You look chastened as you swallow, but you wave him off. “I would’ve gone down to get something later,” you say airily. “I didn’t want to infringe on your time with your friends.” 

“You?” James actually laughs. “Never. Trust me, we see plenty of each other. They could probably use a fresh face.”

You roll your eyes. It’s a ploy to keep from looking at him, he’s certain of it. “Well, regardless, you shouldn’t worry about it. I wasn’t starving.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Your mattress creaks as James stands. Some of the stiffness to your posture eases, and he wonders if you’re relieved to see him go, but you look up with another small smile. Pretty. 

“Thanks for the sandwich,” you say. 

“You should really have another one,” he replies, grinning back because of forces beyond his control. He starts backing out of the room. “Do you want me to make it? Actually, don’t answer that. I’m making it.” 

Your quiet laughter follows him down the stairs. 

[skellseerwriting]

You wanna kiss me so bad

March (Fields of Mistria) x GN!Reader Oneshot

Summary: You and March are arguingflirting again at the inn. You challenge March on something stupid.

Warnings: mention of alcohol, flirtatious banter, joking insults, March calls reader “pretty”, March is actually sober in this one (for now), kissing, some making out (technically? Mainly just some intense kissing. It’s pretty tame), SFW

Word Count: 730

“You’re lucky you’re cute, otherwise the people in this place wouldn’t think so highly of you.”

It was another night at the inn, and you and March were at it again; bickering. You would tease, insult, and try and one up each other, but it would always just straddle the line between arguing… and flirting.

“You think I’m cute?” You batted your eyelashes obnoxiously, propping your face up with your elbow on the bar counter. March snorted, cheeks red from alcohol.

“Never. You’re the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You brought your hands to your chest sarcastically.

“March, I’m hurt! And here I thought you actually liked me!”

“You should be addicted to shutting up.” March said snarkily, without any real malice.

“Oh please,” you rolled your eyes. “You can’t get enough of my voice.”

“You wish.” He said snidely with an amusemed tone. “What will it take to make your mouth stop moving?”

“Well,” you began, making an intentionally obvious stare at his lips. “I can think of one thing.”

He huffed and took a swig of his drink to cover his reddening face. “Like I’d ever want to kiss you.”

“You wanna kiss me so bad, it makes you looks stupid.” You threw, taking a sip of your own beverage. March scrunched up his nose in faux disgust.

“As if. I bet you’re terrible at it. Why would I ever kiss you?”

The gears in your brain started turning at the word “bet”.

“Really?” You teased, closing a bit of space between you. “I bet that you’re the one who’s terrible at it and you just don’t want to admit it.”

His face flushed darker as he leaned closer in turn; scoffing.

“I’m definitely better than you. I’m such a good kisser, that I’ll completely ruin everyone else for you.”

“Oh yeah? Who’d you practice with? Certainly it wasn’t anybody in this town. It must’ve been the last depraved soul that visited this place who was desperate enough to settle for you.”

He grabbed the collar of your shirt, yanking your face in front of his, and for a second you weren’t sure if you were arguing or flirting.

He gazed into your eyes, the tension between the two of you electric.

Then, he started staring at your lips, a starving want in his eyes as he contemplated something.

Well, you certainly didn’t want to wait for him to decided.

“I bet I can kiss better than you.” You claimed confidently, grabbing his collar in turn. He looked up at your eyes again, seemingly having made his decision.

“Prove it.”

Neither of you waited another second, instantly closing the distance that both of you despised. His hand that was already on your shirt tugged you towards him while his mouth pushed you away; rough and hungry and full of passion. You tried your best to return it, but it was almost impossible to match his intense energy. He pressed hot kisses deeply against you, desperate for the feeling of your lips.

Dropping his collar, you moved your hands to his hair. You carded your fingers through those vibrant locks as he was practically pushing you off your stool.

Before that could happen, a strong hand held onto your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. Raking his strands through your fingers, you pulled off his headband for more surface area.

Okay, okay, you admitted it, he was really good. So good, in fact, that you soon found you couldn’t breathe. So, regrettably, you tried to pull away. He only pressed farther into you, chasing after you with a vice.

“March.” you gasped, out of breath. You placed your hands on his chest to push him away. “March I can’t breathe.”

As he gradually moved back to give you space, his eyes opened slowly, heavy lidded. He was as red of a mess as he had ever been, and his lips were no better. Taking in a deep breath, he brought his forehead to yours, quickly becoming lost in your eyes again.

“See?” He whispered breathily; a tiny, affectionate smirk making its way onto his face. “I told you I was better at it than you.”

You shoved his shoulder.

“I think we’ll have to do it more than once to see who’s better. Same time tomorrow?” You asked. He gave a determined, lopsided smile.

“Bet on it.”

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.” 

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

-

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

-

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness 

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

-

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

-

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself 

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

-

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

[buckysbabygorl]

Petty

Summary: Y/N is trying to prepare for her tests in the army, Joaquin offers to help her out but she has trouble focusing when a certain chaotic duo comes to the base. Without thinking, she takes things a little too far…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mild language, Post-FATWS

Word count: 4.4K

Y/N struggled to weave through the crowd of scrambling cadets, getting thrown about in the mass of chaos.

She did not have time for this shit.

She sighed as another elbow blocked her path, popping her head above the crowd to look for Joaquin.

He had told her that he would be there after his briefing, promising that he would help with her exam practice questions.

Though she knew Joaquin would keep his promise; she worried. With all this -- whatever the hell it was -- going on, she doubted that she’d get enough peace and quiet to focus.

She didn’t have time for base drama; she needed to pass this or else she’d never make it into the SWORD program.

She refused to have her dream crushed by rambunctious wannabe soldiers; she was buckling down and passing this test. She would make sure of that.

Suddenly, a tuft of dark hair appeared over the heads of her fellow cadets.

Recognizing him anywhere; she prepared herself for shoving her way through.

“Excuse--sorry, excuse me--hey watch it! Excuse me, yep, right here--sorry.”

Hearing her voice, Joaquin turned and smiled.

He caught her as she stumbled in front of him, finally vacating the mass of people.

“Kind of a bad idea asking to meet me on base, don’t you think?” Joaquin joked.

She grumbled as she reached back to tighten her bun.

“I didn’t realize it would be a problem.” She said, looking back at the crowd. “What’s everyone freaking out about anyways?”

Joaquin smirked. Of course she wouldn’t remember. The girl had a one-track mind; with the stress of the written, nothing else was on her radar. Not even those two.

“We’ve got some A-listers on the base. People are hoping to get a glimpse.�� He teased, being intentionally vague.

She scoffed at the idea of needing an autograph over an A.

“We have our written tomorrow; they’re wasting their time.” She thought aloud.

Placing a hand on her back, he ushered her through the jungle of recruits. “Don’t be snobby; people’s idols are here. I’d probably be doing the same thing back in my day”

“Back in your day?” She repeated, followed by a genuine laugh. “You’re only a few years older than me. Besides, I'm not being snobby; I’m being practical.”

Joaquin laughed loudly at her, but immediately stopped once he saw her face change.

“This is the rest of my life Joaquin. Take it seriously.”

His lip pulled at the bitter taste of regret on his tongue. He knew how much this meant to her. Years ago, during the disastrous effects of the blip, the program had encouraged upper year recruits to take newcomers under their wing. It was like a big brother program: and he had the fortune of being assigned to Y/N.

From the first day he met her, he knew she was different from the rest.

Yes, everyone wanted to be there. But there was something different in her ideology; she needed to be here. She studied harder than anyone he had ever met, she pushed herself well past her limits in physical training, she’d dedicated more time to this journey than anything else she had in her life.

To Y/N, this wasn’t a joking matter.

“Hey, I was just bugging you. I’m sorry—I’ll help you out.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she tried to calm herself, pushing through the double doors of the building and out into the quad. She held open the door for him, looking out at the recruits running the track.

A few of them had stopped to look out at something--or someone--out on the field, while other runners passed them by.

Y/N shook her head again; she was glad there were at least a few others still focused on training.

She wasn’t worried about her physical; in fact some of her superiors had gone out of their way to assure her that her physical definitely wasn’t an issue, which was most certainly bias reassurance on their parts and maybe somewhat not allowed.

But watching them made her anxious; she could multitask.. right?

“Quiz me while I do my fitness run through.” She demanded.

Joaquin sighed, “Seriously Y/N? Don’t push it. Besides, Lieutenant Johnson said your physical--”

He was cut off by the waving of her hands.

“You shush! I can handle some sit ups while you run questions past me. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again, Torres.”

He tried to argue, but she was already halfway across the track before his first word came out.

He spared a glance in their direction, recognizing the two from a distance.

He’d know that pair anywhere.

Anyone would.

He was just surprised that she hadn’t.

~

The targets were set up at a distance; all recruits were told to leave the west half of the field empty so there were no injuries, and minimal interference with the soldiers' training.

They would be giving a seminar on counter-terroirsm efforts when their other activities were completed; the base being reassured they would get a chance to meet the heroes at some point. Just not now.

Thank god, Sam thought.

Bucky had been in a mood the whole trip.

Things had lightened up with Barnes; their comradery came easier, he felt comfortable in Sam’s community. Things felt good again. This world had started to feel like home again.

But, everyone had their own form of baby steps.

Bucky was a good man, a good friend, but damn was he unapproachable.

If they were going to try to motivate this next generation of soldiers; Bucky needed to fix that.

Which he’d been lectured on over, and over, and over again.

Now he’d gone sour; his mind looping once again with self-doubt and frustration.

Then Sam started teasing him about getting laid.

Now Bucky felt like he was on the brink of a social meltdown.

“I’m just saying--” Sam quickly whipped the shield at the target.

The momentum pulled him back a little, but Bucky caught the ricochet with ease.

He studied his stance as his jaw set, tired of Wilson’s pestering.

“--you could be a little bit more nice to people. Friendly even! Leah was nice; and you mucked that up.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched with contempt, before he threw the shield back at the target.

The shield hit the bag at an angle, overshooting his second intended mark.

With a loud metallic echo, the shield tumbled into the grass and rolled back in front of them.

Sam raised a brow, “You’re off balance. How is that arm still weighing you down?”

“I’m not off balanced; I can’t focus because you won’t shut UP--”

~

“31..”

Clang

“...32...”

Clang

“...33--”

Clang

“Goddamnit.”

She sat up, Joaquin still holding onto her knees to support her as she looked out to the other side of the field.

“Do they really have to do that out here? We have a perfect target range inside for that.”

Joaquin suppressed a smile, “You really think our range can handle that thing?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked back at him, “What?”

Before he could answer, another loud crash of the shield interrupted him.

Y/N’s teeth grit together as she raised her hands, curling them into fists and cursing the Gods above.

“What the hell are they even throwing around?”

Joaquin’s jaw went slack at her obliviousness, “You seriously don’t know?”

“Should I?” She countered.

“Uh--yeah... that’s a piece of history right there.”

She looked at him in disbelief, “It’s a frisbee, Joaquin.”

“Oh my god. Next question.”

She was a dumbass. A smart dumbass, but a dumbass nonetheless. If she didn’t recognize them or their frisbee from fifty feet away then she was hopeless.

“Alright; explain your protocol for—“

With another throw, and a sudden clang, the two soldiers started yelling.

Joaquin could see the rage in her eyes as she moved to stand; “If they don’t stop I’m gonna say something.”

“Y/N, please don’t—”

He quickly pulled her back down, “Look, what they’re doing is really important. They’re a big deal, you can’t just--

“You know those guys?”

Joaquin bit the inside of his cheek; he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about his association with the past mission. Not until the paperwork was finalized and it became public knowledge.

“Well, yes but I can’t bring attention to them or engage them. They’re a pretty big deal.” He assured.

“Whatever, you’re just trying to act all cool.” She leaned back against the grass, as Joaquin put his hands back on her knees.

“You really don’t know who they are?” He asked

“Ugh—just tell me Torres.” She said, sitting up in a huff.

“I can’t! I have to be low-key about it.”

She spoke through her situps; “The fuck—is that—supposed to mean?”

Joaquin started to ask another question; but somehow the two soldiers’ yelling got louder.

Furious, Y/N sat up and turned, before he could stop her, she was yelling in their direction. “Excuse me! Do you mind keeping it down?”

It was obvious they didn’t hear her as the two stepped towards one another, the argument increasing in intensity.

At this point, all the surrounding recruits' attention was on the two.

Their banter was infamous of course; but none of them had witnessed it, or them in person.

None of them dared to break this up; that was a death wish.

She scowled in their direction before turning back to Joaquin, “Next question--”

CLANG

Y/N saw red.

“Alright. That’s it—”

She was up before he could stop her.

“Y/N! Don’t!”

But it was too late.

“Excuse me? Excuse me!”

Walking toward them; she didn’t realize how many people were staring. A few people had pointed out her trek towards them, a couple pulling out their phones.

Oh this was gonna be good.

With each step, she kept asking them to quiet down.

She had no idea that she was berating commanding officers.

In fact, she had no idea just how stupid of an idea this was.

They just kept screaming, and screaming, and screaming--

“HEY!”

They hadn’t noticed her until she was in front of them. Jaw locked in annoyance and shoulders squared; looking like she was ready to raise hell.

“KNOCK IT OFF! You two need to shut the FUCK up. I’m TRYING to STUDY.”

The two whipped around; finally noticing the gazes of the recruits around the track.

Not sure how a super soldier could’ve missed that but...

“We’re sorry, we didn’t hear--” Sam was cut off.

“I’m well aware of that. How could you when you’re fighting like children at a well-respected government facility?” She scolded, her voice raising with each point she made.

Bucky tried to reign in his temper; after his previous interactions with John Walker and Lemar Hoskins, his attitude towards new recruits of the US Army and SWORD was... negative, to say the least. The next generation of soldiers did not have Bucky’s approval; he didn’t feel that had the heart that he and his boys once had, and were following in the footsteps of something they didn’t truly understand. What Steve, and the shield, represented was more than fighting for your country. It was fighting for what’s right, battling injustice, the respect you had to have and the protection you needed to provide was at an international scale now at minimum, in fact it went across all space and time it seemed. He didn’t need some naive recruit giving him the business right now, no sir.

Bucky turned to face her, “Pardon me Miss, but I think you’re out of line.”

Her brows shot up; “Excuse me? I’m out of line? You two are the ones coming onto SWORD property; during our exam season, to show off what very little skill you have, for what?”

The two shared a look; who was this girl?

“Little skill?” Bucky repeated.

She smiled coldly, “I see we’re still having trouble hearing me.”

Something caught her eye, a glare from the man’s hand as it reflected the sunlight.

He neared her, and Sam made no motion to stop him.

“You are talking to two highly decorated war veterans, and superior officers, if I’m judging correctly.”

Bucky couldn’t stand obnoxious recruits; he’d had enough of the High and Mighty with John Walker, he didn’t need it from GI Jane.

As he stood in front of her, eyes set on her face; she refused to look away.

“Stand down, soldier.” He commanded, “You’re out ranked, and embarrassing yourself.”

He felt the anger rapidly bubbling up inside him; this had gone on long enough. The exchange of their hateful stares seemed to last an eternity, neither refused to break first. From his point of view; some hot shot hero wannabe was blatantly disrespecting their practice time, and on a broader scale, affecting them from doing their job. On her end; it was the same thing. Some veterans were dismissing how hard she was working to be here, and thwarting the efforts of her future career. It was a small moment in time; a stupid altercation that, from the outside, should have meant nothing. But internally, to each of them, it meant everything.

She scoffed, taking him aback.

He watched as she simply pulled her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders in opposition to his frame. He could see the strength in her figure, you could sense the pride she exuded while she faced him. She had no intention of standing down.

“Embarrassing myself? You’re the “decorated war veteran” that hasn’t successfully executed a single hit while he’s been here; even with being genetically enhanced.” She stated.

Sam should’ve jumped in. Bucky and Sam had been allowed in the space for a boost of morale in staff and recruits, and to train with their new found weaponry. In exchange; they had to be respectful and encouraging of the people around them. This was way too big a scene for either party; certainly going to evoke damages of reputation on both ends.

However...

Sam was enjoying this.

Bucky hadn’t been actively social with any of the people here; they had been drawing attention, they certainly had not been boosting morale.

If this young woman wanted to set them in their place; Sam wasn’t going to argue with that.

Besides, Barnes needed to get his blood pumping and his head straight.

Clearly, she was achieving that.

“You’ve been throwing around this stupid fucking thing for almost an hour. You haven’t improved shit for your posture, your aim is still off by like—”

Seeing the silver underside of the frisbee on the ground, she reached for its leather straps.

Without thinking, Y/N grabbed it, whipping it with fury.

The group of students gasped at the action; the two men didn’t move fast enough to stop her.

Joaquin put his head in his hands.

He was going to be in so much shit for this.

Y/N followed through with her throw; sending the frisbee to one target, and with a perfect ricochet it stuck into the wooden pallet, wedging itself in a perfect bullseye.

“Holy shit,” a recruit whispered, turning to his friend, “did you see that?”

The friend shook her head, “What the fuck was that?”

Y/N whipped back to the man in front of her, poking a finger into his chest.

He could feel her hot breath on his neck, her eyes sharp and dark as she peered up at him.

“If you out-rank me, fine. At least have something to show for it if you’re going to ruin my chance at furthering my career.”

He said nothing, staring down at her.

He pulled his attention back to the target. How the hell did she do that?

Shaking her head, she walked towards the splintered wood. Standing in front of it; she looked out into the quad, seeing that she had the entire base’s eyes on her. She pulled the disc away from the target board, her hands sliding into the straps.

“Here, take your toy back.”

But as she turned back to them, they made no motion to speak.

She looked down at the weapon in her hands; only then realizing just what she was holding.

They were silent as they looked at the shield; its colors and glorious star facing them.

That wasn’t a frisbee.

It was Captain America’s shield.

The connection zipped through her brain like lightning.

Oh god.

The man looking at her was Sam Wilson, meaning she had just bitched out Captain America.

Also meaning that the man in front of her was none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

Her career was definitely over.

“Oh fuck me.” She whispered, her face paling.

Snapping out of his stupor; Bucky quickly responded.

“Yeah, exactly. So give it back—“

He reached for it, before Y/N pulled it from his grasp.

Well, she thought. If I’m going down, I’m going down swingin’.

“No. This is mine until my exam is over. I pass, I’ll give it back. I don’t, then I’m kicking your ass with it.”

Wilson spoke up then, “Hey, hey watch it.”

“You watch it—both of you are army men. You know how much these tests mean for our future, and you’ve been messing that up for me--and for everyone--”

She gestured out to the crowd of people watching them.

“They’ve been focused on you two all day; you two must’ve known that would happen. This isn’t good for us right now. Fuck, I--”

Now she was rambling, god she felt like an idiot. Why couldn’t she just keep her head?

Something in her voice caught Bucky.

He couldn’t pick it out exactly; but the way she carried herself, the hot headed stubbornness, and serious drive. The vouching on everyone's behalf…

It reminded him of a strong woman he once knew; leading a pack that didn’t know how to be led.

For a second, he almost sympathized with her.

Almost.

She reeled herself in, exuding her previous composure. “I get you two are Avengers and you’re the good guys, but right now you’re pissing me off.”

This was ridiculous.

Bucky laughed dryly at the resistance; “Give it back.”

He grabbed it again, and she glared at his metal hand. She was done being bullied by this man; hero or not, he had fucked up her day exponentially.

“Hands. Off.”

Pulling the shield back to her chest, she pressed the rounded side flat against his stomach. Ducking, she used his weight and momentum against him.

The outside recruits watched in shock as she lifted The Winter Soldier, flipping him over the shield and throwing him to the ground.

It happened so fast, neither of the men had time to react.

Joaquin had to stop himself from throwing up, the adrenaline rushing through him was overwhelming.

He considered running over, but the damage was done. Any interference at this point would probably make things worse.

Y/N just chucked a super soldier into the dirt.

The hell was he gonna do about it?

Bucky groaned as he landed on his back, head smacking against the ground. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt him; not much did. But the shock of the situation kept him floored.

“Alright you two,” Sam said. Bucky could hear the stall of laughter in his voice, “I think that’s enough.”

With shield still in hand, Y/N tried to stop herself from shaking. The anger was subsiding, but still prominent.

She was surprised that none of her superiors had jumped in to break up the fight; but as she looked out to the crowd of people she realized it was all recruits. Part of her felt relieved, another part felt sick to her stomach.

“Tomorrow;” she huffed, “you meet me here after 10 p.m. Then you get your shield.”

She stormed across the field, not daring to look anyone in the eye.

Feigning confidence was her best action plan, even though she was mortified by her previous actions.

With the situation dawning on her; she grasped for Joaquin and urged him to follow.

“What the fuck did you just do?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. I’m panicking now, so move your ass before I have a heart attack.”

Sam watched as the two figures weaved through the crowd, finding himself even more pleased when realizing it was Joaquin walking away with this mystery girl.

“Sam, a little help here?”

Remembering the old timer in the dirt, Sam reached down to pull him up.

“We better hope she passes,” he laughed, “otherwise you’ll never get that shield back.”

~

Luckily for everyone, she did pass.

Now, standing out in the empty field, a new dread came over her.

The night sky encompassed the campus in a soothing darkness. It did nothing to calm her nerves, but the idea that she would be alone helped her some.

The exam was easy; she had no doubt that she had passed. Making her feel all the more guilty. Word had spread like wildfire here; and it wouldn’t be long before she was reprimanded for what she had done.

She would be lucky if she wasn’t kicked off the base within the next 24 hours. The impending scolding by The Winter Soldier was horrifying enough.

She would apologize profusely, offer anything she could to make up for it, then hopefully get through this ordeal by the skin of her teeth.

Looking down to the shield, she couldn’t help but admire it, feeling its powerful weight in her hands. Curious to see if she could replicate her earlier throw in the day, she tossed it again. Not noticing the man standing directly in her way.

Bucky caught it with ease, and she almost screamed at the sight of him.

“Oh god—I’m sorry.”

Bringing it to his side, he continued to stare at her.

“Sorry? I’m surprised to hear that.”

She looked to the ground, her face growing hot.

“Yeah... about that—I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that; I was out of line—”

“No.” His voice was stern, but soft.

“I was out of line. I showed no respect to a fellow soldier... you were upset. You told us to stop. We practically laughed in your face.”

She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was all a plot that would result in her getting fired.

“You’re not just saying that to get the shield back, are you?”

He chuckled, “No. The shield’s important, but the man behind that—what he represented meant more.”

His face fell for a moment, and when the silence drew on too long Y/N cleared her throat.

He shook himself from his thoughts, “My point is, yes I’d like it back. But if having it back meant manipulating you, the man that it used to belong to would be very disappointed in me.”

He could hear Steve’s voice now, chiding him for being such an ass to a lady. Let alone a fellow soldier.

“He was a hero, and from what I hear, a good man…” She picked at her fingernails, not meeting his eye, “You all are.”

Bucky smiled, “Well now you’re just faking nice.”

“Hey!” She exclaimed.

He laughed again, but stopped when he saw her fidgeting. Poor thing was probably a nervous wreck.

“I’m not sure if this helps but… we pulled your lieutenant aside. They agreed to let bygones be bygones, you won’t get punished for anything.”

A sigh of relief escaped her, shoulders falling as she finally looked at him.

“Thank you, god, thank you. How’d you manage that?”

He chuckled, “Wrote it off as a “training exercise” for a recruit of exemplary excellence.”

She laughed with him this time; and Bucky was surprised at how much he liked the sound of it.

“Thank you,” she repeated, “seriously thank you--I was, I was an idiot…”

Bucky shook his head, there was no need for her to explain herself. He was a grown man, he should have behaved as such.

“Sam wanted me to tell you he was sorry too; we shouldn’t have got so butt hurt about it. Could’ve gone way smoother.”

“I didn’t help,” she added, “I was crazy stressed and I took it out on you guys. Again, I’m sorry.”

“You can stop saying that. You pass at least?”

She couldn’t find her words right away, shocked by his interest.

“Yeah, I think so. My physical went well, so that certainly helps.”

He nodded, looking her over. “I don’t doubt that.”

Her head tilted, “Pardon?”

A blush covered his cheeks, “I mean, no. Not like that. Just—you look good. Or—you seem to be in good shape. And you, well you even threw me down. And the shield too! I-Uh—“

She laughed again and Bucky had to stop himself from swooning.

She looked across the field, not knowing what to say.

She certainly wasn’t opposed to his company, but it was lost on her as to why he lingered.

“How did you do that, by the way?” He asked.

“Do what?”

He tapped the Shield, the metallic ring reverberating in the night air.

“Threw this. First try. And me—also first try.”

She shrugged, she honestly didn’t know herself.

“I’m very observant... visuals certainly help.”

He gestured out at the empty field. “Give me a visual then.”

She turned to look over her shoulder, was there really no one around?

“It’s getting kind of late—“

“—Oh, I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, he thought of an excuse for her. “You probably have studying and—and stuff.”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I just mean… I don’t want to keep you long.”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

She bit the inside of her lip, gathering that this extra time together was more than just a simple demonstration. “Okay, good.”

She smiled mischievously, snagging the shield from his hands.

“Cuz you’re gonna need all the time you can get—clearly an amateur.”

“I’m an amateur?” He followed eagerly, “I’m 106 years old with decades of experience. You’re like, 18 and barely a Private.”

“Oh that’s it, you’re on sergeant.”

~

Taglist:

@pigeonmama

@blackhawkfanatic

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes

Bucky tag-list:

@emmabarnes

[izvmimi]

cw: children, dad!aizawa to eri, single mom!reader with a named daughter, fluff. repost.

“Hi, just wanted to introduce myself! I’m ___, our daughters play together sometimes.”

Aizawa looks blankly at you, heavy-lidded eyes trying to comprehend what you’ve just told him so matter-of-factly.

Daughter… daughter? He doesn’t have a daughter, he thinks, but he’s at the park, and you, standing before him, are convinced he belongs to one of the children running around, tripping on wood chips and making their way down the slide, and then he remembers once his eyes settle on her.

Yes, Eri. His daughter.

She’s almost eight now, and is still small enough for her age that she looks about six, the same approximate age as the bright-eyed girl holding on to her hand, and practically jumping up and down. The little girl has been pulling Aizawa’s not-really-daughter, up and down the jungle gym for the past twenty minutes, and Aizawa has only just realized that it’s the same girl every time. He’s been lost in thought, mind attuned only to immediate danger, not the shenanigans of small kids.

Perhaps he’s doing a bad job at this dad thing. How could he not have noticed?

“Hello, nice to meet you,” he says quickly, and you offer him a smile that is a little too understanding for his comfort. Can you read his thoughts? 

Aizawa distracts himself from further psychological tangents. He points.

“The one right there?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. You nod and turn to face them.

“Yes. Her name’s Akari.”

Aizawa glances at you again as you watch the children, wondering if he should say something about the kanji, if it includes the characters for the color red or the one for bright. Eri’s favorite dress is red. Should he try to make a joke? Is that what parents do to connect?

“Ah,” is all he manages to say.

“Eri is a very sweet girl,” you say. Aizawa realizes he should have introduced Eri properly as well, but you’ve filled in the gap.

“Yes, she is,” he replies. You look at him again, more intentionally this time, and Aizawa can feel himself tense up. He doesn’t know why. Perhaps it’s the earnest nature he can feel radiating from you, an innate friendliness he’s uncomfortable with. He doesn’t know.

“Can I set up a play date sometime?” you ask. “Akari is terribly fond of her and she’s been a bit more lonely recently.”

You aren’t disclosing the fact that her father has been out of the picture for a while. Why pour yourself out to this stranger?

“Sure.”

And that’s that.

Eri arrives a few days later, the widest smile on her face, at your doorstep, Aizawa standing close behind her. He doesn’t look any less tired, or any less out of it, but encourages her in a gentle voice to go off and play. She nods, and Akari is bold as ever, dragging Eri in as quickly as possible. You laugh as you get out of the two girls’ way before they run you over.

Aizawa remains at the entrance, his hands in his pockets. You try to think of something else to say to this man of few words, and he tries to as well. 

“… Would you like to come in? I have tea,” you offer. “Akari is probably showing her all of her dolls and toys in the back room, if you’re wondering.”

Aizawa opens his mouth, and you are certain he’ll say no.

He hesitates.

“Sure,” he says again.

There’s something in the air you feel shift as he crosses the threshold of your home, an odd sensation in your shoulders that fades by the time he takes off his shoes.

A feeling that he’s here in a way that’s more permanent than an afternoon tea.

Something you don’t yet understand but portends something new.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Home is Whenever I’m With You

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x f!reader

Warnings: some angst, fluff, smut (18+) mdni, handjob, oral (m!receiving), sub!Ghost, sleepy sex? Ghost finishes early

Words: 11.7k

Synopsis: Simon is finally home and a few things need to be taken care of…

Link to The Roommate Series Masterlist

You are currently reading part 6 of The Roommate Series

Simon’s eyes fluttered open when there was a knock at the front door of the flat and he was met with you sleeping just inches from him, a sight that was incredibly unfamiliar to him but he had never felt more grateful for. He could’ve fallen back to sleep, he had never felt more comfortable laying in his bed than he did right now, especially as he listened to your soft breathing. He would’ve if he wasn’t so enamored by how much he liked the way you looked across from him.

He had seen you asleep before but this was something else entirely. You were asleep in his bed, you were asleep next to him in his arms as if this were something normal, as if the both of you had done this before.

You were deep in sleep, not moving an inch except for your breathing, and yet you still held onto him with the same comforting warmth you gave him earlier this morning.

You. It’s all he could think about now and last night, it was everything he had missed for three months on base and in the battlefield. You had been stuck on his mind practically the entire time he was gone, he had dreamt about this moment so many times and had hoped that once he was home he could have you fall asleep on him just like you had before he left.

Of course, that had been before he had been injured.

Simon stared at your face and noticed your puffy eyes. A small pit formed in his stomach as he was reminded of how upset you had been and his face fell. He pulled an arm away from you and dared to rest his hand on your cheek, holding his breath as he waited for you to stir. When you didn’t, he very softly, as if he weren’t touching you at all, ran his thumb across your skin.

He had never seen you cry so much. He’d seen you cry over university but this had been entirely different, this had been something that he wasn’t used to and it made his chest ache the more he remembered the panic in your eyes.

You had been crying because of him, for him.

No one had ever cried for him before and he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t expected it when he had run home to the one person he knew who wasn’t familiar with the wounds he’s gotten from the military. He didn’t want you to cry for him or because of him but unfortunately the damage was already done.

He had hurt you, intentionally or not, by coming home before he was properly patched up. He had been so desperate to see you one more time, thinking in his delirious state that it was going to be the last, that he had hurt you.

Not only that, he had ruined the separation between you and his other life that you should never come into contact with.

You saw his dog tags, which was bad enough considering it was impossible to come up with a lie as to why he had them around his neck, but worst of all you had seen the mask.

The one that enemies saw when they were about to die, the one that was covered in blood, the one that haunted the nightmares of those who managed to escape but not for long. The one that kept him strong and hid everything that was Simon, that was the reminder that Simon Riley is in fact dead to everyone but you or his team.

You had glimpsed the image of Ghost. Simon would run away if he had the chance.

He’d run because you didn’t need that in your life, you didn’t need the hardened, cold blooded killer who would do anything to get the job done, who you would probably look at with fear and disgust. He didn’t want Ghost to be known by someone who is his life, who was everything to him when the persona was the worst parts of him that should never be seen.

He’d run and hide from you because he knew that if you dug any further into who he is, you’d do it before he could. He didn’t want you to leave him and yet he couldn’t think of a life without you in it.

Especially as you unconsciously leaned into him, your warmth over taking him once more and bringing him out of those dreaded thoughts.

His eyes fluttered shut and he very carefully rested his forehead against yours as if he would be able to read your thoughts, as if he could wiggle his way inside your mind so you could think happily of him in your dreams.

A soft sigh left his chest and he situated himself to go back to sleep. There was no point in getting up when you were right there, holding him like you loved him, and when it hasn’t been more than an hour since the two of you had fallen asleep.

Another knock, louder this time and more demanding made Simon clench his jaw as he was reminded of the intrusion. He glared at his bedroom door and debated on whether or not he should even get up before he decided that he would scare off who it was before they woke you up.

Very carefully he untangled himself from you and watched you like a hawk to make sure that he wouldn’t disturb you.

His entire body was heavy as he attempted to get up. He began to breathe heavier as he felt dizzy once he managed to sit on the edge of the bed. He suffered too much blood loss because he couldn’t have been bothered to stay on base for a few days longer so now he was paying the price for his stubbornness. He should’ve let you take him to the hospital, especially now as he fought against passing out next to you, but he didn’t want you to go through that.

You would’ve been stuck inside the waiting room for who knows how long and the doctors probably wouldn’t have told you anything. He couldn’t put you through more strife than he already has.

Though, as he glanced back at your exhausted face he was sure it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Simon took a few deep breaths and pushed himself off his bed. He stumbled and caught himself on the wall before he fell on the ground. He groaned when a splitting headache hit him almost immediately and he thought about slumping back into bed, but another aggressive knock came from the front door.

You made a noise and he snapped his head back towards you. You rolled and turned your back towards Simon before you went still again, hopefully going back to sleep since you desperately needed it.

He let out a soft huff before he stumbled out of his room with the intention to scare off whoever was banging at his door at such an early time in the morning. He had to walk along the wall as every step felt like he had lead in his feet and he was sure he probably looked half dead, but he didn’t care. He hoped that it would deter the people knocking on his door, especially if it was one of the neighbors he didn’t particularly like.

Simon swung the door open with a glare and his heart stopped.

All three of his teammates were standing in the morning mist outside of his flat. The very place that had been off limits to every single one of them for the past three years, the one place that hadn’t been touched by the other darker part of his life until this very moment.

He stood there frozen in the doorway as his team gave him worried but relieved looks.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re alive.” Price breathed out and looked him over before he placed a supporting hand on his shoulder.

The contact made Simon jump and he stood up straighter, narrowing his eyes at them as he tried his hardest to get his pounding heart under control. He prayed that you wouldn’t wake up now, he had never wanted you to stay hidden more than this moment as he gripped the door tightly.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked shortly.

“What do ye think?” Soap exclaimed a little too loudly and Simon clenched his jaw. “Ya fuckin’ ran out bleeding like a stuck pig.”

“We had to make sure you were okay and to drag your ass back before you bled out.” Gaz added and crossed his arms with a serious look.

“Let’s get you sorted out, yeah?” Price attempted to wrap an arm around Simon’s shoulder so he could help him to the car but he didn’t budge.

Simon shrugged off the old man’s hand and didn’t look away when his superior’s eyes hardened. He wasn’t one to push Price away often, if at all, and he could tell that his stubbornness wasn’t welcomed, especially since it had been a long trip from the base to his flat.

“M’fine.” Simon gestured to the bandages around him but Price didn’t look convinced.

Rather, he looked incredibly unimpressed as he crossed his arms and gave him a serious look, one that he often used on insubordinate rookies or on one of the sergeants when they decided to dick around for too long. He looked Simon over and licked his lips in deep thought.

He saw right through Simon, he always did. It was like the man had studied him his entire life, he knew everything from his little ticks to the way that he knew Simon would never run out from the base for anything. Nothing else but work was that important to Simon, at least, that’s what he thought he knew.

“You wouldn’t run off like this for no reason.” Price stepped closer to him. “You’ve been acting strange and I want answers.”

Simon thought of a million different lies he could tell him and he was sure that the old man would know that he was lying. Nothing would sound believable, nothing would make leave him the infirmary, half stitched back together and beaten bloody, except for you but you were supposed to be a secret. He was supposed to keep you safe by not saying anything about you.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to get the heat off his back.

“Simon, what’s going on?” You called out from further in the flat.

Simon’s stomach dropped and his mouth went dry. He wasn’t sure what to do and he suddenly lost his voice as he looked back into the flat to see you rushing into the living room with the same look of fear you had just an hour ago. His eyes softened as he saw just how exhausted you looked in the light of day and if it weren’t for the fact that he could hardly hold himself up, he would’ve carried you back to bed.

You placed a gentle hand on his arm to steady him, your eyes full of worry before you looked at his team.

“Oh…hi.” You weakly greeted them and attempted to give them a welcoming smile.

Price’s eyes softened and he uncrossed his arms as he gave a quick glance towards Simon, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. There was a small smile hidden underneath his beard however as he looked back at you.

Simon wasn’t sure what to do. The cat was out of the bag now and though he wished he could tell his team to forget you and for you to just pretend that you didn’t just see a part of him that he never wanted you to see, he knew that was childish. There was no point in trying to keep up the facade, especially after everything that happened before this moment.

You stepped closer to Simon and gave him an unsure look. He could see what was going on through your mind and how you were putting the pieces together, you were too smart for your own good.

“Sorry to wake you so early.” Price gave you a polite smile as he outstretched his hand for you to take. “Price. Friend of Simon’s.”

“I’m his roommate.” You took his hand with a hesitant smile of your own and introduced yourself.

The gesture seemed to break Soap and Gaz out of their spell, they had been staring between you and Simon with wide but knowing eyes, before they introduced themselves as well. Simon didn’t like the way their faces had lit up either, especially when they gave him smiles that had him wanting to pull you back into the flat.

Truly, he regretted coming back home the way he did.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why are you here?” You wondered in a soft voice that couldn’t be mistaken for rudeness even if you tried.

“We came to check up on him.” Price nodded towards the bandages around Simon’s midsection.

You gave Simon an uncertain look as you came into closer contact with his work than you ever had before. You took a few steps back but Simon placed a hand on your lower back to stop you which had you giving him a nervous glance, as if to ask him if it was alright for you to be present, which hurt him a lot more than he wanted it to.

As much as he wanted to keep you a secret, it would be wrong to do it now that his team knew about you. He couldn’t control you or this situation so there was no point in trying to act as if there was a chance to recover from this. In this moment, you didn’t need him to keep secrets, you needed him to be truthful, especially after you patched him up.

“They’re not bad.” He gave you a reassuring look and rubbed his thumb into your back.

“‘Not bad’, he says.” Soap lightly mocked and shook his head. “Worked with ya for over three fucking years and all you can say is ‘not bad’?”

Simon heard you hold back a chuckle and his eyes snapped down to look at your face. He felt some relief when he saw that you had some of the brightness back in your eyes as you watched Soap grumble about Simon being ‘an arsehole’. Just seeing a different expression on your face that wasn’t sadness or fear was enough for him to let go of the fact that you were meeting his team.

“If you don’t mind,” Price caught your attention as he continued to give you a polite smile. “Can we come in so I can check on your roommate?”

You glanced back and Simon did as well, seeing that your eyes were glued to the mess in the living room. You glanced up at him and he knew that you were unsure about letting them see the flat in such a state. However, he shrugged and stepped out of the doorway.

“Sure.” You followed after him, practically gluing yourself to his side as you wrapped a hand around his forearm to steady him.

Simon couldn’t help but rely on you to keep him steady even though he wished he had enough strength to at least pretend he wasn’t in bad shape. It was nearly impossible to fake it when your warmth sunk into his cold skin and practically healed every sore feeling he had stuck inside his muscles. He couldn’t push you away, not that he even would think to, especially when he glanced at you and saw the deep concern that struck him to his core.

A pit formed in his stomach as you helped him sit down on the couch once more, a soft puff escaping his chest.

“Let’s see.” Price stepped over and sat next to Simon before he began to undo his dirty wrappings.

It was splotched with dried blood that got darker the more he took them apart. The giving pressure from his side made his eyes twitch as the throbbing pain came back. It was dull this time but it was just more on top of his exhausted body that had him just wanting to pass out to forget about everything since he went on the mission.

He looked up at you and his heart ached.

You were holding your arms closer to you as you stared intensely at his side as his wound was slowly being revealed. You dug your fingernails into your skin and he could tell that you were taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. The worry across your face made you look even more exhausted as you hovered behind Price as if you were waiting to jump in and help.

“This is a really nice flat.” Gaz spoke up with a calming voice and caught your attention as well as Simon’s. “I know Simon didn’t decorate it.”

“It was a little bare when I moved in.” A small smile tugged at your lips and Simon remembered how empty the flat had been before you.

“No color, right?”

“None.”

Gaz chuckled and you smiled, your attention pulled towards him and not Simon which let him feel some relief. The sergeant glanced his way and gave him a discreet thumbs up that he nodded at, understanding immediately what he was doing and couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for his friend.

“How long have you two lived together?” Soap wondered curiously with that wide grin of his.

“Three years.” You explained and both of the sergeants' eyes widened. “I moved because I go to the university near here.”

“Oh, uni! Been to any parties?”

Soon conversation was flowing between the three of you, not exactly too upbeat but it was enough to distract you as Price took the rest of the bandages off. Simon had his attention on you the entire time, feeling a mix of so many emotions as you forgot about him for the time being.

He’d have to pay them back somehow, to show his gratitude.

“Ripped your stitches.” Price grumbled, low enough for just Simon to hear.

Simon glanced over at his captain to see the serious look on his face as he began to clean his wound and start rewrapping it. He uttered an apology that he truly didn’t mean but the captain shook his head as he glanced towards you, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“S’alright, the pain is punishment enough.” He gave him a quick smile. “Just let me know next time, eh?”

“You weren’t supposed to know.” Simon flinched when he touched a particularly sore spot.

“Sorry, Simon.”

However, the captain looked anything but apologetic, in fact he looked a little too proud of himself for having invaded Simon’s private life. Though, Simon hadn’t given him much of a choice to do so and he blamed the fact that he was bleeding out for not thinking that Price wouldn’t come to find him.

Out of everyone, Simon would’ve told Price first if it came down to it and if this hadn’t happened. The old man was reliable to a fault, he couldn’t think of a time when he had thought he couldn’t trust him, so he knew that if Price had known about you from the very beginning he would’ve done everything in his power to get him back to you as quickly as possible. He was sure he was going to air more on the side of caution when sending him out on missions now.

Price finished bandaging him up and hummed at his handiwork.

“Should get you through until you see a medic.” He gave him a comforting pat to his shoulder and Simon nodded. “Ready to go?”

Simon frowned. He knew that he was going back to base the moment that he laid eyes on Price, but he couldn’t help but wish it wasn’t so soon. He didn’t want to leave you, he didn’t want to be away from you anymore, not after he was finally home after three months of self-imposed mental torture.

He just wanted to be with you and feel alive again. He didn’t want to be Ghost anymore, he just wanted to be Simon.

Despite this, he knew he couldn’t push his luck with his captain. He had already tested his boundaries by running out so asking him to let him stay would be too much. He also needed to be properly patched up or else he was looking at an infection.

Simon nodded and with Price’s help, stood up from the couch. He stood there for a moment as he let the dark spots leave his eyes and ignored the dizziness that came from it before he looked at you.

You looked at him with a worried look still on your face but seemed a lot less tense since Soap and Gaz had distracted you.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly and he found himself at a complete loss of words for a few moments.

It was a simple question, something that was normally asked in these kinds of situations and yet hearing it from you made him want to fall into your arms again. The way you had said it didn’t help either, not when you said as if you were prepared to do anything to help him feel better, as if you were going to wrap him up in a blanket and hold him close to you like you’d done before.

He felt his chest warm at the thought, at the promise of safety and warmth from the one person he loved more than anything and it made leaving so much worse.

“Yeah.” He sighed out after he realized he had been staring at you for a lot longer than normal again.

You offered him a smile but he didn’t return it as Price caught your attention.

“There’s a few things that need to be taken care of.” He began and Simon’s mouth went dry when he saw your face fall. “Simon needs to come with us, but I’ll make sure to have him back before the end of the day.”

Simon wanted to laugh, not because Price was lying, but because he knew that it was incredibly unlikely that would happen. It didn’t matter how efficiently things ran in the task force or on base, everything always ended up taking longer than originally planned in order to cover all bases. He’d be lucky to get back home before the end of tomorrow.

“Okay.” You clenched your jaw and held your arms close to your chest again.

Simon could tell you were fighting back a storm of emotions to make yourself look less miserable but you failed at it. It was easy to tell that you were upset as it was written across your face but you didn’t say anything, you didn’t complain, or try to negotiate something.

He didn’t like your silence.

“It was nice to meet you, we’ll see you again, yeah?” Price gave you a smile and you tried to return it as you weakly nodded.

“That’d be nice.” You agreed.

Price glanced towards Simon and gave him a nod before he gestured for the sergeants to follow him. He turned and walked out of the flat without another word as the other two gave Simon sympathetic looks.

“Yeah, we’ll come back around again.” Gaz made his way to the door as well.

“Ye won’t be able to get rid of us.” Soap offered you a fist bump that you accepted before he made his way to the door. “See ya!”

The flat was left silent as the door clicked behind him. It was like there was a dark cloud hanging in the room, the air was thick and it felt like every breath Simon took squeezed his lungs tightly. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort you as you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

They were threatening to fall and he saw you bite your lip to keep it from quivering. You swallowed hard and opened your mouth to say something but when nothing came out you sniffled.

“You need a jacket…” You mumbled and left before he could stop you.

“Thanks.” He said when you came back and handed him one of his black hoodies.

Simon put it on and found his mask, making sure to conceal most of it from you as he grabbed his keys. He searched for his wallet too, and his gloves, and tied his shoes a little slower than normal as he prolonged the inevitable, prolonged the pain instead of ripping the bandaid off.

When he couldn’t find anything else to stall his departure, he came up to you and gently pulled you into him for a hug. He shut his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him and dug your fingers into the fabric of his hoodie as if he’d disappear.

Technically to you, he was.

“Get some rest and don’t wait for me.” He said in your ear and you sniffled again.

“I’ll try.” Your voice was strained and he clenched his jaw.

He pulled back and took your face in his hand, seeing that a few tears rolled down your cheeks despite the fact that you were trying so hard to keep them in. Every tear hurt him and he desperately wanted to be able to hold you for the rest of the day. His eyes softened and he wiped a few of them away with his thumb as he fought the urge to just say fuck it, and stay with you.

“I’ll come back.” He promised and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “No more tears today.”

You sucked in a breath and let out a strained sob before you wiped your tears away. You nodded and took a few shaky breaths as you tried your hardest to stop crying.

“I’m sorry…”

Simon shushed you softly and placed another kiss on your cheek before he moved to your mouth. It was a chaste kiss since he knew that if he went any further he wouldn’t be walking out of that door, but it took away the rest of your tears for the time being.

When you broke apart he stared down at you with soft eyes full of affection but always deep desire. If anyone dared to take him back into the field before he was ready this time he would have to be dragged out of the flat, he wasn’t leaving for a long time and if he had to pull some strings for it, he would.

He caressed your cheek one more time before he stepped away from you. He didn’t look back as he felt his throat tighten up and tried his hardest to wipe your sorrowful face from his mind.

Unfortunately, it was all he could see as he shut the front door behind him and walked to the car his team had driven to come see him.

~

It was past dinner when Simon stepped back into the flat, maskless. His tired eyes scanned the now clean living room for you while the heavy weight of the past twenty-four hours pressed against him. He could barely move without feeling like his feet were full of lead and he was sure that had to do with the medicine the medic gave him, which barely took away the pain. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed, hopefully with you again, but he couldn’t get rid of the pit in his stomach that worsened his mood.

He couldn’t disregard the fact that he had put you through so much turmoil because of his own selfishness.

He’d do anything for you even if you didn’t ask, just to make up for the fact that he

Before he could even open his mouth you walked into the room, still surprising him with your ability to know when he’s home even though he made no noise, and dropped his bags on the floor.

His eyes bounced around your face as you came up to him. You looked refreshed, a better contrast to how exhausted you had looked earlier this morning and he felt a little relief when he saw the small smile on your face. However, you still gave him a look of concern as you carefully wrapped your arms around him.

Simon didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. He held onto you firmly, letting your warmth melt away into the exhaustion he had and he leaned into you. He rested his chin on your head and breathed in the shampoo smell from your hair, the overwhelming feeling of home hitting him so hard he shut his eyes as his vision began to blur.

Fuck, he really missed you.

“You look a lot less pale.” You mumbled into his chest after a few moments of silence. “Good.”

“Fixed my stitches.” He reassured you and pulled you closer into him.

You let out a shaky sigh and nodded before you buried your face in his chest. You were shaking slightly and he knew it was because you were holding back tears. He went to comfort you when you pulled back and looked up at him with teary eyes but a genuine smile on your face that made him clench his jaw tightly.

You were smiling. After all of what he did, you were still smiling at him and all he could do was stare at you as if he hadn’t stumbled in half dead and scared you.

“You’re home.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “Sorry…it’s just finally setting in.”

“Did you eat?” He wondered, trying to change the subject even though he was beyond grateful to finally be home with you.

Simon narrowed his eyes at you when you shook your head. He grunted when you gave him a sheepish smile and nearly dragged you into the kitchen so he could force you to eat. The pit in his stomach told him that you hadn’t eaten all day, which he hoped wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t put it past you especially if you had gone back to sleep.

“Why?” He demanded in a soft voice.

“Because I woke up an hour ago and then took a shower.” You explained truthfully but that didn’t stop the look he had. “I also wanted to wait for you…”

“Told you not to.”

“I didn’t want you to eat by yourself!”

Simon let out a heavy sigh. You were too nice, too considerate for his heavy and dark mind right now. He was exhausted, he felt guilty and like shit, which had significantly ruined his patience since this morning and yet you were being so kind to him. He couldn’t understand why you would still act this way after he had shown you what his other life was like.

How could you still want to wait for him? You should’ve eaten and just gone to bed.

“I was going to make ‘Welcome Back Dinner’ anyway.” You shrugged, still smiling as you slipped out of his grasp.

“I’ll help.” He followed you into the kitchen but you shook your head.

“And break tradition? No.”

Simon huffed loudly and stopped you in your tracks. His shoulders had tensed up significantly and he balled his hands into fists as he stared at you. He didn’t really know why he was so upset by it; you were an adult, you were choosing to do this on your own and not because he forced you and yet he couldn’t help but feel incredibly irritated by it.

He should be the one cooking for you and taking care of you. He should be fixing his mistakes, he should be making you feel better, not the other way around.

You turned around and looked him over with knitted eyebrows. You frowned slightly when you noticed how tense he had gotten and for a moment he wondered if you could read his mind just by looking at him. He wondered if you could feel exactly what he was feeling, if you could feel the guilt he had, the anger he had towards himself.

“Hey.” Your voice was soft as you came into his space again and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

The simple touch made him flinch but somewhat pulled him out of whatever dark pit he was slowly finding himself in. The warmth from your palm had him leaning into you again as his eyes softened and he stared deep into your pretty eyes, finding himself lost in the concerned look you gave him as you gently ran your thumb across his cheek.

You ran your free hand down his arm and grabbed his hand without breaking eye contact before you carefully massaged your thumb in between his knuckles.

They were simple touches, but the more you did it the more he could slowly feel himself lose the tension locked within his body. As it melted away, he almost let his eyes close from how heavy they got as you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Let yourself take a break. I don’t mind helping.” You told him gently and he sighed as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Simon couldn’t argue with you, not when you touched him so gently and not when you talked to him with enough patience for you both. This was a battle he was going to lose since he wasn’t exactly in the best shape to try to cook anyway, just standing was already taking a lot out of him.

He didn’t say anything as he nodded. He didn’t pull away from you which made you smile as you slowly helped him into a seat at the table. It took him a moment to let go of your hand but he eventually let you go when he reminded himself that you needed to eat.

It was almost surprising how quickly you both fell back into the normal routine that you had set up when he came home. You spoke to him as you cooked, your voice gentle as you talked about what you had done since he was gone and brought him out of his head more than you realized.

He was grateful you weren’t deterred from your usual talk after what you had seen and especially since he barely had enough energy to respond to you like usual. He worried about how he may have ruined your normal life by barging in with his military life, but you didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. He didn’t deserve that kind of leniency from you and yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest man alive to be able to stay in this life of domesticity that felt foreign and familiar to him at the same time.

You made it so easy to fall into it, you made it easy to fall in love with this life that he had never had before. You made him crave it, you made him want it so bad against his better judgment and you made him want you more than he had ever wanted something in his life.

Soon dinner was ready and Simon felt more at ease as you sat across from him. Both of you began to eat and he found that he was staring at you a lot more often than he usually did as it finally set in that he was home and going to be for more than just a few days this time.

“I like your friends.” You said while you ate. “They’re nice.”

“They’re reliable.” He said truthfully and felt some pride knowing that they liked you just as much as you liked them.

“I was worried you were alone when you worked.”

Simon shook his head. He had been used to working alone often before Price had made the task force, and even after he had been in the task force he worked alone, but since Las Almas he had been more open to working with others. His perspective changed because of Johnny, much like how it had changed after the two of you began to grow closer.

Now he couldn’t really see himself working alone. He’d never admit it out loud that he enjoyed the company of his friends, or even that they were his friends, but he realized that working with others was also the reason why he was able to sit in front of you.

If he had been alone on this last mission, he would’ve died since Gaz wouldn’t have been there to save him, and he wouldn’t have been able to come back to you.

You would’ve been left alone, and who knows if anyone would’ve come back to tell you what happened.

Simon felt sick just thinking about that.

“No. We work together often.” He assured you and watched as you gave him a relieved smile.

“Good.”

He grunted and went back to eating. It was strange talking to you about work, he wasn’t sure he really liked it but he preferred these simple and surface level questions over anything else. He would much rather answer your questions about his teammates than any questions about what exactly he does or where he goes. He wasn’t prepared for that and he was sure it would lead to other deeper questions that would bring along far too many old wounds.

You went a little quiet and he glanced up at you. You bit your bottom lip as you stared at your plate, stabbing the food with your fork absentmindedly while you had an unsure look on your face.

Simon swallowed hard. He already knew that you were debating on asking those questions, and he found that it was hard for him to continue to eat. He cleared his throat when he felt it tighten, causing you to look up at him.

When you realized he was staring at you with suspicion you tried to give him a smile.

“So,” You began. “You have dog tags. Why haven’t I seen them before?”

“I take them off before I come home.” He replied shortly with a little more attitude than he had intended, but he could slowly feel irritation build up in his stomach, or perhaps it was fear. All he knew is that it was triggering something in him that told him he needed to either run into his room or shut the conversation down now.

However he couldn’t say anything as you gave him a slow nod. He knew that you were trying to lead up to the real question you wanted to ask but he was dreading the build up as well as trying to guess what you were going to ask.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Simon’s mouth went dry and he gripped his fork so tight that his knuckles turned white. Out of all the questions, this was one he never wanted to answer and he couldn’t believe you were asking him it.

Why did you have to be curious? You shouldn’t ask him these things, you weren’t supposed to know about this.

He glared at his plate and thought that maybe if he stayed quiet you’d just give up but he knew better.

“Simon.” Your voice was still gentle even as he glanced up at you.

“Because…I just didn’t.” He cringed at his answer and felt his stomach drop when your eyebrows knitted together.

He was acting strange, rude, standoffish. He was acting like Ghost, not the Simon that you were used to and yet he couldn’t help but fall back into that side of him as you tried to peek behind the facade, as you began to dig through him into the buried parts of him that were meant to be hidden.

You were searching for things you wouldn’t like, things that would turn you away, things that would make him lose you in ways worse than you leaving him. If you found out what he did, who he dealt with, how could he be sure you’d survive tomorrow? Or the next day?

How could he be sure he wouldn’t find you dead in your room the next time he came home?

“I’m not asking you to tell me what you do.” You explained carefully but he clenched his jaw. “I’m asking why you didn’t tell me. Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you. This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about-”

“Stop.”

The moment that the word left his mouth he regretted it especially as he watched you try to make yourself look smaller as you looked away from him. He had never snapped at you, never, not even when the two of you got into those rare arguments. He had never treated you maliciously even when he was upset and yet here he was forcibly shutting you down because of his own issues.

This was familiar, too familiar to a time in his life where he was in your shoes. He could scream right now as his heart went into his ears and he felt his palms start to get sweaty if it weren’t for the fact that he was frozen with fear.

It only got worse when you sat there in silence with a sad look on your face. You weren’t fighting back. You weren’t trying to stand up for yourself and he couldn’t help his mind from racing.

Had you been afraid of him this entire time? Did he make you feel like you had to be careful around him, to walk on eggshells because you were afraid he’d lash out?

Simon felt like there was nothing he could do to fix this but he had to do something, he had to try and he’d beg on his knees for your forgiveness, if he had to.

“I’m sorry.” He practically blurted out as he struggled to look at you. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I pushed too hard.” You told him and he shook his head.

“Don’t make excuses for me.”

Simon dared to look up at you and saw that you were giving him a confused look now. He wasn’t exactly able to hide the panic like he normally could, which he blamed because of everything that had happened to him this past twenty-four hours, and it was affecting every thought he had.

Of course you were going to ask him these types of questions, you had every right to especially after his team had shown up. Keeping you in the dark after that, after everything, was wrong and unfair to you because if he wanted to have anything with you he had to be truthful.

“What I do is dangerous.” His voice was low and serious as he stared at you. “I deal with dangerous people. You wouldn’t be safe around me. That’s why.”

Simon held his breath as he waited for you to say something. He watched as you stared at him with a serious expression across your face as you took in his answer. He anticipated you to leave, to run away from the table and to tell him that you never wanted to see him again because who in their right mind would stay with someone so dangerous?

“Okay.” You nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

He stared at you in disbelief. You were crazy, you had to be, and yet he couldn’t help but feel some relief that you didn’t run or spit in his face. Though, he really wouldn’t blame you for it if you did. He was still waiting for some kind of repercussion for snapping at you.

You probably wouldn’t speak to him for a few days. It would hurt but he was used to far worse treatment and if you were still around then he could deal with it.

“Let’s go to bed.” Your voice was lighter as you offered him a small smile. “I can tell you haven’t slept since this morning.”

Simon’s eyebrows knitted together and he didn’t move from his spot even as you did. All he could do was watch you put your plate in the sink before you looked at him expectantly. He felt like a spotlight had been put on him as you stared at him and he clenched his jaw.

He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for you to disappear, to give him some sort of passive aggressive remark and leave him alone for a few days but instead you were waiting patiently for him to stand up from the table.

“If you want me to carry you, you just have to ask.” You teased but your face fell when he didn’t play along.

You stared at each other, your eyes bouncing around his face as you studied it for a long moment before he saw sadness creep up into them. He watched as your shoulders slumped and he tensed up when you stepped closer to him. He was still waiting, he was still preparing himself for you to say something to hurt him back

It took only a few moments for you to somewhat connect the dots, to see that he was anticipating something bad from you and you couldn’t help the ache in your heart.

Yes, you were hurt that he snapped at you but you were more hurt over the fact that he thought that this once instance had caused something between you. You were baffled by his unwillingness to give himself some grace after all that he had been through.

“Simon, I forgive you.” You told him with a gentle voice but a serious look on your face. “It’s okay.”

It couldn’t be that easy, even when it was you. You were just saying that, you were just trying to make him feel better when you shouldn’t. It wasn’t your responsibility to fix his mistakes.

Simon swallowed hard and forced himself to loosen up despite the fact that he couldn’t accept your forgiveness. Not yet, not until he made it up to you.

He stood up from his chair, hiding any of the soreness he felt, and stood in front of you with weak confidence as he thought back to that night where he called you for the first time while he was away. That was the only way he could make it up to you right now, tomorrow he’d do something different until you had truly forgiven him, even though you already had.

“Let me make it up to you.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, as he leaned into your space.

“You don’t have to.” You stared up at him still with that bit of sadness in your eyes as you placed a gentle hand on his arm which made him involuntarily tense from the contact.

“I want to.”

It was a white lie, because he truly believed he had to, but it didn’t matter as he carefully placed a hand on your hip and pulled you closer to him. His eyes never left yours as he studied your face, waiting for any sign of discomfort before he placed a gentle hand on your face.

He hesitated for only a moment before you wrapped your arms around his neck and he leant down to place a kiss to your lips. He started out slow, barely pressing his lips against yours as he tested the waters to see if this was something that you truly wanted.

When you deepened the kiss, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh as most of the guilt and any thoughts left his mind as you kissed him tenderly. You were calm after a long, horrible nightmare, peace within his mind as you moved your lips against his.

You moved a hand through his hair and he couldn’t help but give out a low resounding hum from his chest as you ran your fingers through his long hair.

Simon tightened his hold on your hips, his fingers digging through your shorts into your skin as he trapped you between him and the counter. He smiled when you let out a surprised squeak and placed his other hand on your other hip, giving them both a teasing squeeze.

He gently bit your bottom lip and stuck his tongue in your mouth when you let him, a fire setting burning in his stomach when you let out a soft, breathless moan. He explored your mouth again, loving the way you lightly tugged on his hair as he pushed your hips against his, purposefully grinding his hard on against you.

Another moan from you as he came into contact with your heat had him kissing you more desperately, chasing the desire to please you and make the past twenty-four hours worth it, to make you feel better, to make up for his mistakes.

He continued to grind his cock against you, grabbing the underside of your leg to get better access to your cloth cunt as he chased the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth.

He trailed kisses from your mouth to your jaw, sucking and licking a spot that had you shivering in his hold. He kissed down your neck, doing the same until you were writhing underneath him as he continued to tease you through your clothes.

“Simon…” You moaned softly and it sent a shiver down his spine, the sound being so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. It made him kiss you more and grind against you even harder. “Your stitches.”

“Don’t care.” He grunted, his mind now set on only one thing, stab wound and pain be damned, all he wanted was you.

“I do…don’t want you to be in pain.”

His grip tightened on you again and he furthered his assault on your neck despite your protests. He could be on his deathbed and he would still fight to make you feel good, he could be ripped apart and he’d still do it. He just wanted you, he wanted you so bad in so many ways that his chest ached at the thought of having to pull back now.

This was the only way he could show you how much he loved you. This was the only way you’d forgive him and love him.

“You’re stubborn.” You breathed out as he rocked his hips against yours.

“I’m fine.” He assured you despite the fact that he felt uncharacteristically out of breath for such a minimal amount of activity.

He ignored it, ignored the feeling like he was going to collapse from exertion and ignored the creeping dull ache that was starting to fall across his entire body. Instead, picked you up with ease without taking his mouth away from your jaw, deciding that he wanted his first time with you to be on your bed.

“Simon!” You squealed as you held onto him tightly.

“Won’t drop you, promise.”

He stared at you with intense desire as he walked you to your room, kicking the door open. By the time he made it to the edge of your bed, his muscles were screaming at him to let you go from the overuse of his already exhausted body.

He managed to have enough strength left to place you on your bed softly before he hovered over you, chest heaving as if he had run a marathon. He could hardly hold his head up as he stared down at you with unfocused eyes as he fought back the extreme dizziness. His skin had paled again as he leaned against the bed for support.

You were out of breath also but for a very different reason and despite your many protests, you stared up at him with desire until you noticed the state he had forced himself into.

“Oh, Simon.” Your voice was full of worry as you stared up at him with knitted eyebrows.

You ran a hand through his hair, softly stroking his face to soothe him and his eyes fluttered shut from the touch. He knew he was in no shape to do anything with you but he couldn’t let go.

“M’fine.” He tried to convince you, dipping his head down to lightly nip at your lips, but you shook your head. “Please.”

He opened his eyes and your breath hitched from the look he gave you through his eyes. Desire, want, need, the only thing stopping him was you and the fact that he could hardly keep himself up.

He pushed himself more on top of you as you squirmed underneath him, giving him a similar look as you fought with yourself. He managed to run a hand across your face and down your neck, gently palming at your covered breast and watched you arched into his touch.

You keened and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, tugging on his hoodie to move him up the bed.

Simon did as you wanted him to, happy that you would let him give this to you, as he continued to run his hands over your body. He let you push him onto the bed beside you and he sunk into the softness of it, nearly finding himself consumed by the comfort of it before he was brought back when you began to kiss his neck.

He grunted and leaned into you, still trying to recover, as you began to run your hands over his body. He jumped when you slipped them under his hoodie, the feeling of your soft hands against his scarred skin had him shivering and biting back a few whines.

You touched him so delicately, so gently as if he deserved that, as if he wasn’t built from being broken apart in every way possible. You had always left soft touches against him but this was entirely, this was much more intimate, much more than just a lingering touch on his arm or shoulder. It made his heart race and his breath hitch in his throat as he felt you kiss under his jaw.

It was too much, this tenderness was too foreign and too much but not enough. He could already feel himself getting addicted to your hands against him, to the burning feeling that you left behind on his skin from every touch you gave him.

He shifted closer to you, wanting to feel more of you against him and involuntarily bucked his hips into yours again, eliciting another one of your sweet moans from your mouth.

He went to kiss you, to run his hands and feel you again when your hand ran across his hard cock.

Simon groaned softly and shifted his hips into your touch as you palmed him through his pants. Pleasure raced up his spine and he started to feel out of breath again as he swallowed any noises that threatened to escape from his mouth. It was just your hand through his pants but the friction was enough to have him rolling his hips into your hand.

He had never felt this good from someone touching him or from touching himself and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes as he gave himself away to the feeling. You had ruined him in more ways than one and he couldn’t be happier.

He ran his hands down your waist, dragging his fingers up your shirt against your hot skin and slipped them past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were about to part your lips and he felt his stomach flip at the thought, until you pulled away from him entirely.

Simon nearly pouted from your lack of touch and opened his eyes to see you in a beautiful daze. He stared at you unsure of why you stopped but he didn’t try to reach out to you again as you stared at him with intense need while you panted.

“Touch me and I’ll stop.” You shook your head and Simon’s eyebrows knitted together.

He was baffled and for a moment couldn’t say anything as he stared at you and your puffy lips. His eyes raked over the small marks he had left on your neck and he couldn’t help but grab your shirt to tug on it impatiently.

“I want you.”

He saw you shiver and watched as you squeezed your thighs together for just a moment. He clenched his jaw as he stared down at your clothed cunt, just imagining what it would feel like, how wet you were and what you tasted like. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the thought and he nearly pushed you on your back so he had better access but you gripped his wrist tightly.

“No.” You said softly and the look in your eyes was still gentle. “Not me.”

Simon clenched his jaw and he wanted to argue, wanted to tell you that this shouldn’t be about him, this was supposed to be for you, to make you feel better because of him. He couldn’t let you do this, it was wrong and selfish.

“Let me make it up to you-”

“You don’t have to.” You interrupted him and placed a loving kiss on his lips that stole his breath away.

It was impossible for him to argue because you weren’t relenting with your kisses, you were making his head dizzy and when you palmed him through his pants again, he let out a breathless moan. You made him feel so good with just a simple touch that he could hardly focus on trying to argue with you.

He wanted to return the feeling, the desire and need to make you feel just as good making his grip on your shirt so tight that his knuckles turned white but he couldn’t bear the idea of you pulling away from him again.

You stuck your tongue in his mouth and he kissed you desperately, pushing his hips into your hand again as you gripped the hem of his pants and tugged them down.

He hissed when his hard cock sprung free and bit your lip a little roughly, causing you to gasp before you broke the kiss.

“Shit…” You whispered and Simon followed your wide eyes to his cock which was already leaking pre-cum out of the tip.

He knew that he was a bit larger than most and yet seeing you stare at it with bright eyes full of excitement made his stomach flip. Heat rushed across his face and chest as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. A groan escaped his chest as you gave a tentative squeeze, watching as some of the precum dribbled down his shaft. He somehow got impossibly harder as he saw that your hand couldn’t wrap around fully and it made his mind race.

Thoughts of how it’d look inside of you, how he’d probably struggle to get it to fit unless he ate you out like his life depended on it and what you’d look like once it did and how hard you’d squeeze him. He’d do anything to feel more of you right now, to give you the pleasure you wanted from him. If only he hadn’t been stabbed-

All thoughts went out the window as soon as you started to move your hand. Your thumb grazed his tip and spread his pre-cum over his cock causing him to let out an involuntary moan.

You stroked him slowly at first, almost like you were teasing him as you ran your fingers over the prominent veins.

Simon felt light headed as you sped up and the hot pleasure that spread across his abdomen was so intense that he couldn’t help but throw his head back as he gripped you tightly. It was too much and he could already feel himself getting closer even though you had just started.

“F-Fuck…slower.” He groaned out and you began to kiss him across his neck.

You didn’t listen to him as you sucked on his skin and lightly bit him, completely overwhelming his senses as you ran your free hand over his chest again. He was already incredibly sensitive as you treated him so much differently than any other time this has happened to him.

Every sound he made, every time he moved you kept your hands where he wanted them, made his head spin as you pulled out sounds from him that he didn’t even know were possible.

He had considered himself to be quiet in the past but he was being noisy and he thrusted his cock in pace with your hand. He couldn’t help, not when he jolted from the pleasure that was rapidly building up and not when all he could think about is you. You had taken over all of his senses which made it difficult to control the intense pleasure that threatened to spill over.

He was so close already. He was keening and whining for you, the thought of asking you to stop made him want to cry but he wasn’t sure if he had any self control, especially since he was already exhausted and he didn’t want this to end.

“Please…please slow down.” Simon begged breathlessly, his hand grabbing your wrist but he made no effort to stop you.

“Relax.” You whispered into his ear and he whimpered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You kissed his jaw slowly while you stroked his cock at a fast pace. You snaked your other hand up from his neck and ran your fingers through his hair before you lightly tugged on his hair.

Simon let out a low, guttural grunt as the band of pleasure snapped and hot cum spurted out of his sensitive cock. You stroked him through his orgasm, causing his thighs to start twitching and for him to jolt with pleasure as more moans left his throat. The pleasure was nearly blinding and he felt a warm fuzzy feeling inside his stomach as you continued to stroke him. It almost bordered on too much before you stopped and slowly pulled your hand away from him.

He felt heat rush across his face and entire body as he turned a bright red. He was quick to hide his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily and still in a daze as embarrassment wracked his body.

Usually he could last for a good bit. He was a trained soldier, he had been in the military for a long time and had enough stamina to be on the field for days without sleep or rest, and yet the moment you had put your hands on him he was about to cum. It had only been minutes, maybe not even five and had already cummed.

He was so embarrassed, even more so than when he had kissed you on his birthday, and if he could hide in his room he could. This was one moment where he wished he had his mask on so you at least couldn’t see his face.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your neck. “I didn’t mean to…that was quick.”

You shook your head and somehow managed to pull him off of your neck. You placed a soft kiss on his cheek, looking at him through your lashes as he saw a fire in your eyes, some sort of desire that he had never seen from someone. It was more than want, it was more than need and he felt himself growing harder even as he stared at you while at a loss for words.

You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips tenderly.

The embarrassment slowly left him as he kissed you back, letting you explore his mouth with your tongue as he relaxed into the mattress and into you. He felt like he was on cloud nine in your arms again, especially as you went back to running your hands over his body again while placing little kisses across his face.

No one had ever made him feel this calm, no one had ever made him feel this relaxed. It was more than just the heat of desire and the want for more of that rushing pleasure, this was tenderness that had him feeling safe.

You made him feel safe. You were safety.

If it weren’t for the fact that you were kissing him, he probably would’ve fallen asleep into hopefully a dreamless state where he could enjoy you beside him, but luckily you were still kissing him.

You still wanted him.

Simon wanted to return the favor. He inched his hands to your waist, ready to feel how wet you were and hopefully see what you would look like when he slid his fingers inside of you. He wanted to make you tremble with just his fingers like how you had done for him.

You pulled away from him however leaned your head down to his cock.

His eyes widened and his cock twitched when he felt your hot breath fan across the head of his cock. Heat raced across him as you pushed his hips down on the bed to give you better access to him and he gripped the blanket beneath him as if his life depended on it.

He couldn’t quite believe you were about to give him head and normally he wouldn't complain, but he still had some of that guilt stuck inside of him from earlier.

“You don’t-”

“Someone has to clean up the mess.”

You don’t try to hide the twinkle in your eye as you glance up at his wide eyes. You somehow look innocent yet devilish at the same time and all Simon could think was that you were going to be the death of him.

He left out a long heavy sigh when you ran your tongue from the bottom of his length to the tip. His eyes were stuck on yours as you gave his cock kittens lick, taking the cum into your mouth before you wrapped your fingers around him again. A strangled moan left his throat as you slowly began to stroke him again as you left small kisses all over him, purposefully avoiding the tip as you cleaned him up.

Simon became a panting mess as you tease him. He looked down at you with lidded eyes as you continued to work him up slower than before all while staring at him with heated eyes. He bucked his hips to try to get more friction but you placed a hand on his pelvis and pushed him down.

“Stop teasing…” He groaned and you smiled.

You gave him a few more kisses before you wrapped your lips around his sensitive tip, your hot wet mouth causing a short circuit within his mind.

He moaned loudly as your tongue worked against him and his hand shot to the back of your head. He didn’t push you down but somehow holding you was enough to ground him as you slowly sunk your mouth further down onto his cock. It felt like all of the air in his lungs had been knocked out as he felt your tongue run over the veins on his cock.

You tried to sink further. He grunted when he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and nearly came again when you gagged around him. He tugged on your hair to stop you, luckily you listened to him this time before you hollowed out your cheeks and began to bob your head up and down.

Simon threw his head back as you began to suck. He felt himself flush from the wet sounds of you taking in your mouth and he writhed against you, trying his hardest to not buck his hips into you as you stroked the parts of him you couldn’t reach.

He was still sensitive from his last orgasm but this felt so much more than overstimulation. Electricity raced through his body and his muscles twitched as you bobbed your head faster, your eyes never leaving his. The feeling was too much and he tightened his grip in your hair when you hummed, his eyes fluttering shut from the extra stimulation.

A string of incoherent words left his mouth, he could hardly think to even say anything as you sucked his cock as if your life depended on it. Pleasure built up inside of him quickly and he let out whimpers the more you continued but he was beyond caring.

He was lost in the pleasure, lost in the feeling of your mouth, lost in the feeling of you.

Before long he was close again and when you swiped your tongue across his slit, his hips bucked involuntarily, causing you to gag. He apologized to you, barely above a breathless mumble but you only hummed, which caused him to do it again, and stared up at him with tears in your eyes.

You sped up and he let out a string of curses, unable to control whatever escaped his mouth.

“Gonna…” His voice got stuck in his throat and that was the only warning you got as his hot cum seeped into your mouth.

Simon’s eyes rolled back and he let out a low groan. He could hardly catch his breath as he felt you swallow everything that was given to you. His legs shook underneath you as you ran your hands down them soothingly, helping him come down from his intense orgasm while you kept your mouth on his.

His chest heaved up and down while extreme exhaustion hit over him. He could hardly open his eyes to watch you release his cock from your mouth and pull his pants back up. He felt so incredibly tired but he wasn’t ready to fall asleep.

He removed his hand from the back of your head and grabbed your wristing, using the last of his strength to pull you up to him before he smashed his lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy and he could taste himself on your tongue which made him hold onto you even tighter. He breathed heavily into your mouth as you gripped his hoodie and gently pushed him further into the mattress.

When you both broke apart, he stared up at you with sleepy eyes as you placed a hand on his cheek. He felt a smile spread across his face that you mirrored before you settled next to him, wrapping your arms carefully around his abdomen to make sure you didn’t touch his wound.

The only thing on Simon’s mind as he drifted off to sleep was how loving you looked at him and how safe you made him feel.

Link to part 7

A/N: Alternatively, you meet the family and Price has a Proud Dad moment tm also this is my first time writing a bj scene so bare with me

The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!

Tags:

@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @alastorhazbin @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepsel @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison

[moonhoures]

Knew Better

🕷️ kinktober — day 26: spanking 🕸️

pairing: seungcheol (seventeen) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, spanking, marking, implied dom!cheol, husband!cheol <3, sir kink, pain kink (reader), reader is called ‘good girl’ and ‘baby’, cheol is called ‘honey’ and ‘baby’

word count: ~980

synopsis: accidentally standing your husband up for a lunch date leads to a punishment that is well deserved

a/n: happy halloween 🎃

posted: october 31, 2023

kinktober masterlist

The text you had just gotten from your husband might as well have said “You’re fucked”. You hadn’t done anything bad—that you were aware of, at least—but when you received a menacing text from him, you swiftly accepted your fate. Which was presumably a punishment for you when he would get home from work.

cheol 💍: You better be in that bedroom at 4 when I get off.

Those words haunted you for the following hours after you received it, each hour passing causing anxiety to creep further into your psyche. Had you said something? Did something? Not said something? Not done something? The thoughts flurrying in your brain were almost making you dizzy.

By 4 o’clock sharp you were in your bedroom, sitting at the edge of the bed with your hands in your lap. You twiddled your thumbs. Your bottom lip was being gnawed on restlessly between your teeth, sure to leave indents in the delicate skin. You flinched when you finally heard the front door open, then close. The threatening sounds of your husband’s footsteps making their way down the hall nearly sent your stomach up into your throat. When he finally appeared in the threshold of your room, your heart was almost beating out of its cage. What could you possibly have done that was so bad?

Despite your anxiety about the situation, you couldn’t help but find his looks and attitude extremely attractive. He was your husband after all. The casually styled hair. The untucked shirt. The tie he was already pulling loose as he looked at you with straight lips and dark eyes. It was all very enticing.

“So? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

You gulped, “No, honey, I don’t even know what this is about. Did I say something wrong?”

He chuckled, humorlessly, “No. No. You did, however, blow me off for our lunch date today.”

As soon as the words left his lips, you were gasping softly. You did blow him off. But not intentionally! In fact, as you made your own lunch today, you had a thought that you felt like you were forgetting something. It was an eerie thought, one that made you stop in your tracks with your plate in hand before you sat at the table to eat. But after a minute of nothing coming to mind, you came to the conclusion that it must not have been important. Oh, how wrong you were.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Cheol. I completely forgot,” you tried to explain, but your husband held his index finger to his lips and you instantly shut up.

“You’re lucky I’m in a decent mood today. You’ll only get ten.”

Instantly you felt relief flood into your entire being. Ten spanks; you could handle that. The last time you had gotten punished for sending nudes to him while he was at work, and he gave you a good thirty smacks (fifteen on each ass cheek). Your skin was marked for days and the subtle sting lasted even longer. You enjoyed a good spanking, but sometimes they could be more pain than pleasure. Ten would be perfect.

You tried not to seem to happy, in case he decided to up the number. You waited patiently and quietly, just like he always wanted you to be. When he sat beside you and patted his thigh, you climbed into the usual position.

Your knees dug into the mattress on one side of him while your hands secured your upper half on the other side of his lap. If you were to lower yourself, your stomach would be lying on top of his thighs. But he wanted you to use your strength to hold yourself up—this was a punishment after all.

“You’re gonna keep count like a good girl, right?” he asked.

“Yes sir.”

He hummed in approval, his hands already kneading your ass over your shorts. He did that for a moment before he unceremoniously tugged the garment down around your knees along with your underwear. Your cunt felt a cool breeze from the A/C circulating in the room; you shivered.

“And you’re already wet? I haven’t even done anything yet,” Seungcheol commented, shaking his head, “Let’s add another one.”

“Eleven?” you asked incredulously.

“Yep. Count ‘em.”

Slap.

You gasped, not expecting the first one so soon. After a second you said, “One.”

Nine slaps against your cheek later, that familiar, searing sting was permeating throughout your lower half. It didn’t help that he left his wedding ring on, which only hurt even more. You were almost certain there would be an outline of his hand as he did every single smack on your left ass cheek.

“How many is that again, baby?”

“Ten.”

“Make this lucky number eleven,” he smirked to himself as he landed one, last, good slap on top of the same spot he had been going at. Your body flinched at the impact, and your cunt clenched around nothing, oozing a little more arousal out. This wasn’t unnoticed by your oh-so-observant husband who then spread your cheeks apart to get a good look at it, “You really like this shit, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, secretly praying for him to touch you, lick you, fuck you, anything.

“You don’t really deserve to be treated nicely after your forgetfulness today, though, huh?”

“I’m sorry, baby, really. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. We can go to your favorite lunch place, my treat! I’ll even get dessert.”

He scoffed out a laugh, “So desperate. Well, I guess I can’t pass up a good dessert.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you felt his fingertips rub over your wet cunt.

“I’m gonna hold you to that promise, though,” he added, “You better not forget it.”

“I won’t, honey. Promise.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @celestialplatinum @pinklemonadeflav @luvkpopp @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @cinnikoi @unlikelysublimenightmare @k-drizzle @neo-stay @v0relino @pedriswrld

— couldn’t tag

@multi05ho3st4n @nlklstan @fairygirl18 @thxbxx @iguanas-world @ddwaekk @love-me-a-little

[stardustbuck]

I feel like atp even if there were plans to make bvddie canon theyre gone now. if tim minear is even half as petty as I am he would see that reaction and go u know what fuck you u actually don't get what you want now cause ur acting so goddamn entitled. like when tarlos fans got mad about the deleted scenes instead of appreciating them being released and his reaction was to say "okay fine then I just won't release deleted scenes anymore" (like I'm sure it was mostly a marketing decision but part of me thinks they intentionally released a scene about bucktommy just to prove a point.) idk man it's just really upsetting as a bi man to see the absolutely vile shit bvddie stans are saying and even tho I love the ship I now never want it to go canon cause they've fuckin ruined it

hey anon, at first let me agree with the fact that i do in fact also love bvddie a lot and i still love reading fics for them, the edits of them are fantastic and the fanart is S tier. it’s a great pairing with a lot of potential there IF the writers decided to ever go there but…

huge answer below

yeah, i agree. i honestly think before tommy was introduced again in 7x03 and the kiss in 7x04 that in my brain, bvddie was the most logical endgame for buck until it wasn’t.

i came into the show shipping bvddie much like a lot of new fans to the show but instead of hopping onto the tommy anti express hate train i found myself falling in love with buck and tommy together. at first i was still on board with bvddie still being endgame but as each episode aired after 7x04 i became faced with the reality of the situation (at least the way i see it) that bvddie might always be fanon and that’s ok because fandom keeps ships alive whether they’re canon or not. some of the biggest ships EVER are non-canon (i mean, cmon spirk? one of the OG MM ships?) so it didn’t really deter me from enjoying bvddie to this day. what HAS deterred me from interacting with bvddie content is toxic bvddies. i don’t like using the lil nicknames, idc if other ppl do, whatever, but i prefer just referring to certain kinds as just toxic plain and simple.

toxic shippers have made it difficult for anyone who multiships to interact with bvddie content. while there are incredibly nice & welcoming bvddie endgamers out there, it doesn’t overshadow the hateful ones in my online experience at least. i’ve blocked so many ppl over this ship discourse, which ive never had to do with any other fandom before the extent i have with 911. everyday i still find new ppl to block, you go under almost any comment section on the 911 insta and its filled with nasty comments abt tommy and only caring abt whether bvddie will be canon in s8. people projecting their hatred of tommy/lou onto the cast/crew of the show when it’s be said and proven time and time again that it’s quite the opposite. now im certain there’s bad apples in the bucktommy side as well, but from what ive seen online so far it is not nearly to the caliber of the bvddie side. ive blocked maybe a handful of bucktommy’s for being hateful towards eddie or being toxic overall, but ive probably blocked over 100+ toxic bvddies. i can only imagine it’d be worse if i was active on 911 twt which i’m not (thank god) but i have ventured into the tags before on there and let me tell you, it’s fucking horrifying how gross ppl are over there. twt is a cesspool for fandom anyways tho, the fucking asshole of fandom, it’s a septic tank really.

now im my own opinion which could be completely untrue of course, but just basing my thoughts on what i’ve seen online and interviews and such, tim seems to be really happy about bucktommy and idk how ppl believe otherwise. tim has expressed he loves LFJ and wanted him back on the show. tim showed up on set for the kiss scene. tim posting an entire youtube vibe abt bucktommy being soulmates that touches on the invisible string theory and explains how they accidentally found buck’s perfect match. tim sharing the deleted tommy scene is also huge but im waiting to see if he releases more (because i remember seen somewhere that he said there’d be more?) and if he does then great but it’s also still pretty telling to me after the whole karaoke fiasco.

oliver has said nothing but praises towards buck’s queer storyline. he quite literally said if you dont like it then watch something else. despite ppl saying he’s never interacted with bucktommy content online, that’s a lie because he has liked fanart of them.

aisha, kenneth & tracie have all expressed how they like tommy/lou and love working with him.

jlh said she loved bvddie before but is excited to see where buck and tommy go and then on an insta live said she doesn’t think bvddie is happening and was bombarded by toxic fans to the point of ending the live early.

ppl think it’s all some ruse to make it seem like bvddie is never happening so when it does happen it’s a “surprise” ……..

the nasty hate comments are doing nothing but exposing these types of ppl for who they are and that honestly to them, 911 is just the bvddie show to them. the people who run these social media accs for 911 are looking at these comments and cringing, they aren’t running to tim and abc being like “we must give these crazies what they want!” they’re mostly likely being ignored or honestly, as you said, being looked at and just reinforcing their decision to most likely make tommy buck’s endgame so as long as his schedule is open for filming.

what gets me the most about the hate these types of shippers spew online is how they aren’t embarrassed because they are so sooo convinced they will be right one day and therefore their insane, nasty behavior online will be justified. oliver stark literally left twt because of fans like this, people act like he was joking around, that he was shooting the shit probably because “he’s british and british people just have that kind of humor” which yes to a certain extent but let me just add these posts to set an example to why if oliver were still on twt he absolutely would not be happy with the way toxic bvddies are acting right now.

oliver (and ryan&other cast too) being positive abt bvddie never meant it was going to be canon of become canon one day. they do not decide these things, whether they believe it should or not. a lot of bvddie shippers come from previous fandoms where queerbaiting was there, where they were made fun of by actors of their ships, by the creators of the show! so i understand the frustration but oliver is not queerbaiting and buck is not a queerbait character when he quite literally is now confirmed bisexual and in a relationship with a man.

he’s just not the “correct” queer to these people. despite headcanons (hell even i hc eddie as queer!!) eddie so far, in canon, is not queer. by the end s7 he is still shown to not be over shannon and ruins his relationship with his son over this. ryan has stated in interviews he sees eddie as heterosexual, possibly pushing this because of the influx of ship discourse, and he’s glad to see a vulnerable and deep friendship that buck and eddie can have as a straight man and a queer man and how important he thinks it is.

every single thing that points to bvddie never going canon is like they’re being shot point blank in the chest. i get it, your ship not becoming canon sucks, but again, that is what fandom is for! shipping has never been about how canon smth is, there is 20k fics out there for bvddie and they aren’t canon. they can turn that into 40k, 100k, 1M if they really wanted to! instead they use their time and energy posting death threats, wishing death upon a gay character, bullying ppl online for enjoying a ship.

meanwhile from what ive seen bucktommys are rolling with goofy ass spy tommy theories created by antis and making jokes for our own fun.

so yes, i agree overall. they truly don’t deserve what they think they do. we didn’t whine and scream for a deleted scene. they did. we got ours without even expecting it and are having fun.

maybe if they behaved better i wouldn’t be so petty abt it. it’s a shame because of how much potential it has, unfortunately it is just not going that way atm. and even if it does one day, it is not because they paraded online with hate, it is because that’s the story tim and the others wanted to write and abc approved it.

🫳🎤

[toxicanonymity]

Collect calls. jailbird pt. 2 of 3

3600, cellmate's nephew!Joel x inmate f!reader

brilliant edit by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog. custom tats!

SUMMARY: You kinda try to be careful over the phone, but you want each other too bad. So it's hard. Rock hard. Joel sends you a short letter and comes to visit again. Follows Jailbird, but this is 69% dirty talk (I did the math). You can prob read alone. PT 3 of 3 is Parole. WARNINGS: I8+ SO HORNY, hella dirty talk from both, phone sex, mild degradation/teasing, tension, masturbation, Joel is a slut and mentions getting blown, creative mail. Barely edited horny chaos but I wanna feed ya and this ain't fine dining. A/N: Part 2 of 3. Thank you for the love on Jailbird! And THANK YOU @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for the amazing edit omg. Make sure you see the Jojo gif 🥵 His specific tattoos and all 😍 joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs. PART 3 HERE.

When you got back from visitation, your cellmate Mabel's face lit up.  She was excited to hear about it, but when she looked you over, she said, “Oh boy, it’s worse than I thought. . . I’m gonna go play spades, honey. You do what ya need to do.” 

You shook your head, “Mabel. . .”

“Take your time,” she said with a wink. "Not that you'll need it." Then she stood up and stretched before leaving the cell.  

You got in your bed, on your side, under the blanket. You clenched your thighs together looking at the picture of a slightly younger him with not nearly as much silver in his beard. You put your pillow between your legs, rolled over so you were mostly stomach-down, and your hips moved as you put your head in the crook of your arm and recalled the way he looked at you, his strong hands, his tattoos. His voice. You wondered what it sounded like when it wasn’t through a telephone, but god damn, it did something to you. “ain’t nothin’ harder than mine, baby.” Fuck. 

You were already getting close, wouldn’t even need to use your hand at this rate. You thought about the way his arm flexed as his hand moved in his lap. Oh God, the bulge and outline in his jeans when he stood up. The way he adjusted himself.  He might be too big for you to take all of him, but god damn, you'd give it your best shot. You rubbed yourself against your pillow to the rhythm of his hand rubbing his lap in your mind, clenched your thighs again and you came, whining "Jojo" into your elbow. You heard it too many times a day to get it out of your head – He told you to call him Joel, but Mabel made it somewhat difficult. 

---

He was hot as fuck, but it was also cute how close he and Mabel were. It made him seem like a good guy, even though neither of them were particularly upstanding members of society.  You supposed neither were you by most standards, but it’s not like any of you had ever intentionally hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. That you knew of.  The fact that Jojo served time was hot and also put you at ease. It had to have been a while based on the spiderweb, unless he was just trying to look hard, but he didn’t seem the type to bullshit anything. How did you even know what type he was though? You hardly knew  him? You dreaded Mabel’s teasing but you could withstand it in order to find out more.

You got off once more while you were at it, taking advantage of the privacy.  Then you sat up, rested against the wall, and just looked at the picture. Unfolded, you looked at both of them. It was so sweet. He looked happy. His hand on her shoulder had the spade tattoo.  Your eyes fell on your own poke-and-stick clover from Mabel and your stomach fluttered when you saw the flared stem and circular leaves. It might as well have been a Club.  “Mabel,” you muttered and shook your head.  

While she was still playing Spades, you went over to her bed to look at the other photos up close. In another picture, they were at a barbecue in a parking lot. Joel was on the left and Mabel was on the right. Joel was wearing a wifebeater and Mabel was wearing a black t-shirt with a carousel pony on the right pocket.  

You hadn’t noticed before, but there were a few women in swimsuits and aprons in the background. One of them was looking at Jojo. Who wouldn’t? Mabel’s words echoed in your mind — of course he’d like you. You’ve got a cunt and  you’re not bad lookin'. you rolled your eyes. Shit. You resolved to put yourself in pro mode and try to detach. 

—--

Over the next week, you spoke with him several times on the phone. You tried to be careful. You wren’t sure if all calls were reviewed or it was just by sample. You figured it would be suspicious to ask. You hoped whoever listened didn’t mind some harmless horny talk.  The only stuff they should really care about should be scheming. Like making moves and putting out hits from the inside. Or smuggling from the outside. 

—---

He answered the phone, “There she is.”  A vaguely endearing greeting since you and Mabel called from the same collect number. 

“Hey handsome,” you responded. 

“I was just thinkin’ about ya, jailbird.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he said deeply then sighed. “Ya just missed it.” Good God, his voice.

“Missed–”

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty head. How bout I’ll wait for ya tomorrow?” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  “Yeah.”

“Just call at the same time.” 

“Okay,” you agreed with a smile in your voice. “It was nice to see you the other day. . .” 

“Oh, baby you got no idea,” he groaned. “I’m comin’ back next week.” 

“Are they gonna let you back?” you giggled.

“They’ve gotta! I didn’t do nothin’.”

“You didn’t. . .you’re right. . .” 

“Hey don’t give’em any ideas.”

"Right," you laughed. 

"What are ya gonna do when ya get out?"

“In general? Try to find honest work, I guess.” 

“Nothin’ dishonest ‘bout what you were doin’. But I hear ya, parole’s a bitch.” 

“You on parole?”

“Nah, long time ago though.” 

‘Yeah?”

“Kept my nose clean the whole damn time.  Ended up back in the can anyway.” 

"For what"

"Framed for fuckin' murder."

"What??"

"Relax, I was exonerated." 

"No shit."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "You ever danced?"

"Course I fuckin' danced"

"Where at?"

"In memphis."

"Oh, I dunno jack shit about that scene."

"Wasn't great."

"Guess that's where you uh, got your start though."

"Yeah."

"Well do what ya want but lemme know if ya need a gig."

'Thanks." 

He sighed. "I know it sucks not gettin' any in there. "

"Yeah."

"Are ya? Gettin' any? Girls, guards?"

"No," you answered, looking over your shoulder. "Think I could tell ya if I was, though?"

"Shit, sorry." 

"You gettin' any?" 

"Oh I'm a straight up ho." 

"Yeah?" You asked, intrigued.  "Surprised I hadn't seen ya at the clinic," you teased. 

"Cause I'm way the fuck 'cross town. Got our own clinic." 

"Good for you." A pleasant surprise that he stayed clean. 

"Yeah, on a first name basis. Make my girls go, too. Still wrap it most the time though." 

"Your girls."

"Dancers."

"Right." Mabel had mentioned he worked at a club. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

"Shit, I was gettin' some sugar the other night," he said. "Pretty little head between my legs 'n I was lookin' at your picture."

Your heart fluttered. "No shit," you laughed. "My picture, huh?"

"Ohh, you don't even know. I want it bad, sugar, and I ain’t even tasted it." 

"Yeah?" 

"Shit I prolly think about it as much as you do . . .and I've got a life." 

"Who says I think about it?" You asked flirtatiously.

"I got ESP. Makes me tingle when ya do."

"Oh does it?"

"Ya think about me in the shower, in bed. . ." 

You laughed. "And where do you think about me?"

"Fuckin' everywhere. I've gotta have ya, baby. So bad it hurts." 

—----------

Whenever you came back to your cell after talking to Jojo, Mabel would leave to make a phone call or go to the common area to watch whatever outdated movie was playing in the common area. Often with a wink. She knew he got you all wound up. 

—----------

You called him at the same time the next day. 

"How's your week been," you asked. 

"Hard," he said, then his voice became hornier.  "So fuckin' hard. . . n' that's all you." You could hear his belt and zipper. 

"Wish I could help."

“i'm sure ya can once you're out. If you wanna hang out sometime.” You heard a bottle click open then squirt. 

You teasingly hummed as though thinking it over. "Mmmm. . . .I dunno, what would you wanna do?”

“I can pick ya up right from the slammer, ‘less ya got someone else.”

“I don’t.”

“Great, then we can just. . . i dunno, get to know each other,” he mused, then added at a lower pitch, “In the back seat of my whip. Stop off somewhere close.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “You don’t understand, baby. I’ve gotta see what’s under that garb.” His hand was sliding up and down his lubed up cock. “I’ve gotta feel it.” 

Butterflies swarmed in your chest and you sighed.

“What were ya wearin’ when ya got picked up?”

“Well. . . you already know what I’m in for. . .”

"Damn right I do, and you're gonna find out."

You laughed – at visitation, he said you were in for it. . 

"C’mon, jailbird. What were ya wearin.”

“A black microskirt"

"Mmm."

"Black mesh crop top"

"Yeahhh"

"Over a pink bra.”

“Ohhh, fuck,” he sighed. “Shoes?”

“Shit, I’m not–hmm." You tried not to overthink it. "Definitely platforms. Silver and clear, I think."

He gave a low whistle. "Sounds hot as shit." 

“And fishnets. Shit, that's all I had,” you laughed. "Maybe you can bring me something else." 

“God damn, that’s what I get to pick ya up in?”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on the fishnets.”

“Commando in that skirt? Shit, that’s even better.” His breath grew heavier. "Fuck it, just sit on me while I drive," he murmured. "Yeah, fuckin' sit on *this* the whole drive–ugghh." As if avoiding the word cock would make this conversation passable.

You sighed and tried to hide your arousal from the Corrections Officer (CO) standing 8 ft away. 

"Can't get it in ya soon enough, baby." 

"Mmm," you said quietly. "Can't wait."

"Jailbird, you're fuckin killin' me." He moaned. "Hot as hell. . . fuck."

"You sure I can take it?"

"Fuck, I dunno, baby," he panted. "It's a lot."

"I could tell"

"Uugggghhh," He groaned and you heard his hand sliding faster on his dick. "And what'd ya think about that ?"

"Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” you cooed saucily. "Just get me nice 'n ready."

"You ready right now?"

"The second I heard your voice."

"Fuck, I gotta know what ya taste like"

"Mmm."

"Yeah," he panted.,"And when you're nice and ready, then what?"

You lowered your voice to a near whisper. "Oh, just fuckin' wreck me. Split me open, baby." All you could do was clench your thighs together.

"Ohhh god"

"Don't hold back"

"Ohh fuck–couldnt if I tried." He sighed.

You had lost all restraint and just prayed whoever reviewed this call would be cool.  

"Just stuff me full of it," you whispered. 

"Fuck, yeah."

"Stretch me out." 

"Ohh yeah." 

"Pound me so hard i can’t see straight."

"Shit." He moaned and his hand moved faster. 

"And then? Fill me the fuck up. I wanna feel it." 

"Fuck yeah," he panted "i'll be seepin' outta ya for days."

"Then you better fill me up again." 

"Jesus, fuck–ohhh." 

"Don't tell me you'd spill it this fast."

"Oh fuck you," he laughed in good humor. "I'm not spillin' shit." You could still hear his hand. 

"Not even if I'm sittin' on ya while ya drive?"

"Not even." 

"Not with one hand on the wheel and one on my tit?"

"Ohh fuck," he breathes.  "No, no. . ."

"And I'm moanin' your name with every bump in the road?"

"Mmmm, fuck, baby."

"Oh ya like that?" 

"Fuckin'--fuck–fuckin' love it."

"Wouldya mind slidin' that hand down between my legs?" 

"Wherever ya want it, baby."

"Ugh, those big hands," you whispered. "I just know you can use'em."

"Fuckin' right I can," he panted.  

"Hope ya don't finish while you're drivin' with me in your lap."

"All ya gotta do is sit still."

"Imagine the mess if you came." 

"Fuck, baby," he sighed.

"Every time we hit a bump, more would spill out in  your lap.”

“Ohh, fuck."  Then a long, drawn out moan like he was coming. You were throbbing wildly. 

"Knew ya were close," you laughed. Then you heard a heavy smack on his end of the line. Then there was nothing but breathing for a minute, then it sounded like he was writing. 

"What are you doing now?"

"Addressing an envelope."

"You're not mailing me your–"

"No I'm not mailin' you my" he laughed,  "Load."

"Just a letter?

"Yeah. . . Just a letter." 

"Mmkay. . . How 'bout a picture?"

His tone was warm and flattered. "Oh I can throw in a pic. But it's not gonna be the kind ya *really* want."

"Booo," you pouted.

'Think you'll like it anyway."

"Yeah, I can fill in the rest." 

Your time was up. 

—-------

You went back to your cell and sighed as you sat down on your bed. Mabel started to leave but you said, "no, you're good." You'd rub one out later. You wanted to ask Mabel if he really liked you, but you wouldn't let yourself be vulnerable like that. You were still trying to detach.  

"You're right, he's cool," you said. 

 "You like him, don't ya? He likes you, too.”  

She reached under her mattress into the fitted sheet and got out her poke and stick supplies. “C’mere, let's just get it over with,” she said. 

“What, uh, what do you wanna give me?”

"J. . . O. . ." 

Your whole upper body heated up and you laughed under your breath, "Mabel." She was mostly kidding. 

—-----------

Visitation day came and you weren't nervous, just excited. He was wearing a too-small, black softwash t-shirt, black jeans, and a chain.

“Be good,” the guard warned Joel as you picked up the phone on your side. 

"Yes, officer,” Joel replied with a respectful nod, then sat down. You noticed his rings as he picked up his phone. “We gotta be good,” he said with a wink.  

“So be good,” you told him vacantly as your eyes roamed his tattoos. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, hungrily taking in the mundane sight of you in your garb. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. 

“How’d ya get hotter? Chicks don’t get hotter in lock-up, much less in a week.” 

“What, and men do? It’s in your head.”

“Well yeah, we work out like mad.” 

“Guess you’ve got me there.” 

“Not talkin’ 'bout your body. It’s bangin’, but, I mean–no makeup and you’re pretty as hell.” 

You smiled and shrugged, "thanks," then whispered, "but I think you're just horny," with a wink.  He returned the shrug. 

A few seconds of silence passed as he checked you out. You salivated over his arms stretching his shirt. He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Whatcha thinkin about?”

“I’m thinkin’ ya look like a slutty bouncer. . .You get this shit at Spirit Halloween?”

Joel chuckled. “Well . . . you know what *I’m* thinkin’ about.” His eyes glued to your chest. 

Yeah, yeah, he’s gotta see what’s under that garb. “Yeah, you’ll see it, honey," you said. 

It was a struggle knowing what to say–you wanted to “be good” and not get cut short, but you also wanted to indulge in your fantasies. 

Joel asked, “Where ya wanna go when ya get out?”

“Anywhere. Got some place in mind?”

“Could take ya to my place. Mabel taught me a mean pot roast recipe.” 

You smiled. “You’re makin' me hungry.”

“Oh I’m starvin’, baby.”

"Long drive?"

He exhaled with a puff of his cheeks. "It’ll feel long that day."

“I’m sure it will,” you purred, looking down as if you could see through the booth right to his cock. You wet your lips. “So what’s between here and home?”

He took a deep breath, thought for a second, and told you what highway it was. 

“Oh, okay,” you nodded. “There’s a seven eleven right outside the gate here. 

“There sure is," Joel nodded. "Clean bathrooms too. I checked on my way.”

“You did not.” 

“I’m tellin’ ya," he nodded. "Stopped for gas. First thing I thought about. Swear I think about it as much as you do.” 

“So what’s in the bathroom?”

“Steel handicap railing about hip height”

You raised your eyebrows, intrigued.

“Pretty sturdy to hold onto, or even sit on.” He looked over his shoulder “Like if someone needed a rest or whatever.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Right," you said softly as you nodded. 

"Diaper changin' thingy, too."

You scrunched your face up. 

"Like if ya needed to bend over it and stretch your back.” 

"Ah," you nodded. "Nah."

“Parking lot?”

“That close to here, it’s gotta be crawling with pigs.” 

“Right,” he said in a trance, looking at your mouth. 

“Alright, where else is there," you asked. 

"Rest stop. They got picnic tables near the woods if ya need to, uh," he looked down, "Sit down," he said quieter, "n' take a rest." 

"Oh, I won't want a rest." You slowly shook your head and your eyes lingered on his chain. 

He groaned softly and rested his chin in his hand. He whispered, "You're killin' me here." He scratched his beard and you tingled at the sight of the silver patches, his pinky ring, his hand tattoos–the faded barbed wire.  You sighed. 

"You bein' good?" He asked. 

"Yeah." You resigned yourself to harmless small talk for a few minutes, but it was obvious what you both were thinking about.  There were long silences where you just stared at each other.  

“Just a few more weeks and I’m yours,” you teased. 

His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows. “You serious?”

Oh, shit - you didn’t wanna scare him off.  Really didn’t even mean it like that, but, you also didn’t mind the thought of him as a boyfriend. 

You nodded and teased, “yours to do what you please.”

He blew out a puff of air. "God damn, baby. I don't think you know what’s comin’ your way.”

“Can’t wait to find out, though.”

“Oh, you’re gonna find out.”  He dug his hand into his lap but didn’t move it. “Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“Never be sorry.”

The guard barked,”Hands where I can see’em,” and Joel obediently raised his hand and put both elbows on the table again. 

"You ain't gonna want no one else again." 

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness which actually turned you on. 

"Don't say I didn't warn ya," he cautioned. 

"Okay," you shrugged with a contemplative frown. 

"Shit, I might be in the same boat." He swallowed and looked like he meant it. Like maybe you were doing something to him that hadn't been done.

"Get my letter yet?" Joel asked. 

"No." 

He smirked, then it faded as he checked you out for the hundredth time. He shook his head, sat back, and took a deep breath.  "This is fuckin' torture." 

"Then it's a good thing I waited til now to ask about ya." 

"the best torture," he clarified, his forehead beginning to glisten. "I'm gonna fuckin explode when I'm back in my ride."  He looked at the unopened box of tissues on his side of the booth, intended for crying visitors. "Thank God I didn't ride the hog." Fuck, he had a motorcycle, too? He held the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder while he opened the plastic on the box and tried to get the tissues started. Then he took three tissues out.  Your breath hitched at the thought of his cum. Was it silky? Stringy? Watery? Sticky? What'd it taste like? Ugh. 

"HANDS," the guard said when he saw Joel finish pocketing the tissues. The guard stepped forward. "Say goodbye, let's go."

"Fuck." Joel sighed and closed his eyes. "Sorry, jailbird." 

When he stood up, you could see the outline of his hard dick on his thigh. You took a deep breath and pried your eyes off his crotch to briefly meet his eyes. He winked and you managed a small smile before eyes fell right back to his jeans as he adjusted himself. Fuck. 

—---------------

Joel’s letter came a couple days later. A photo fell out of it. Black and white. He was sitting in a chair and smoking with one hand holding the cigarette up and his other hand resting between his legs.  Arms blazing in a white t-shirt. Squinting at the camera. He looked hot as hell despite having all his clothes on. He looked like a model. 

The letter was on plain white printer paper, and the letter was short: 

Be good, jailbird. I'll take ya anywhere. 

Sweet, and also sexy. God, you wanted him to take you. 

You flattened out the letter and admired his poor but legible handwriting. Not as bad as some you'd seen. His handwriting was hot.  It was cute that he didn't use any special stationary.  He was a simple man. And God, what a man. You ran your fingers over the words,  and they caught on a different texture.  Something on the paper.  You smelled it and it wasn't cum. It was, like, lotion or Vaseline. 

Wait. You held it up, and your breath hitched. 

You looked behind you to make sure no one was watching, then you stood up, got closer to the light, and held it at an angle. Holy shit. It was his dick print, diagonal across the paper.  A bolt of desire shot through your body.  It was transparent but the different texture was visible. You could see the head, then most of the shaft. It was detailed, there was texture. Even a couple of veins. 

You sat on your bed, leaning against the wall with your knees up.  You rested the paper against your knees at an angle with the tip pointed between your legs.  You just wanted to get a sense of the size–and boy did you–but the sight of it, God. Just the silhouette of it lined up right there made you feral. You needed it so bad.  Needed him.  Who the hell mails a dick print? Fuckin’ Jojo, he was gonna be the death of you.

-----

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your engagement really keeps me going, I love y'all.

This AU is due to @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs and their hilarious list of new joel tropes. But I played myself because he's actually hot and I want him?

Notes

The slapping sound after he came was him letting his cock slap onto the paper.

There are a lot of correctional facilities where they wouldn't get away with all this so you gotta suspend disbelief.

The strip club will be an alternate timeline of this Joel set in the past.

-----

I hear tags aren't working for some people. Please consider following @toxicfics and subscribing to notifications. Must have tumblr push notifications enabled on your phone.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[strayed-quokka]

lacking in subtlety || kim sunwoo

» summary: it was a bad idea to like your brother’s best friend. it was an even worse idea to let him into your room when your brother was one door down.   

» pairing: sunwoo x female reader

» rating: NC-17 minors do not interact 

» genre: brother’s best friend, smut, porn without much plot but there’s backstory i guess

» warnings: dominant sunwoo (kinda?), he’s also a bit possessive, i guess submissive reader, oral (m and f receiving), creampie, his hand finds your throat but there’s no actual pressure, vague exhibitionism (?), sunwoo gets caught but he kinda asked for it, the beginning takes ages whoops, open ending cause i’m annoying, one use of good girl and some pet names

» words: 4,738

» a/n: i know i’ve done brother’s best friend before but i’m a hoe for that concept aight deal w it… also i have like… 20+ smuts for the boyz in my drafts i don’t know what’s going on anymore but i’m thinking either juyeon next because hands or a threesome with moonbae because it’s been sitting in my drafts and lord is it wild 

also i know i disappeared but life happens and also people were stealing my work so i wasn’t really in the mood to write anything for anyone but here we are i’m back cause i wanna indulge ✌️

You’d never been much of a risk taker. In fact, on paper, you probably looked quite boring, good grades, a nice set of friends, never misbehaving, all of it lined up to make you rather uninteresting. That’s why when the shift from seeing Juyeon’s best friend Sunwoo, as someone more than a simple acquaintance happened, you simply ignored it. 

He’d never find you interesting enough. 

Though you were friends in a way too. Your brother was comfortable enough with Sunwoo never getting too close to you in that regard, and so the two of you would often interact even if he wasn’t there.

But the conversations were usually rather generic. Exchanges of how your days were, maybe the occasional comment about an outfit the other wore, but never anything beyond that. You still remembered coming downstairs in an oversized hoodie one day and Sunwoo jumping on the question to ask where you got it. He wore the same one in a different colour a few days later, and you swore he knew how flustered it made you.

You knew him, but you didn’t know him in a way that you knew friends. Nevertheless, you were always comfortable with him, even comfortable enough that during movie nights, if you happened to be around, lying next to him or even against him was deemed completely normal. 

You’d done it since you were little, and so even once it shifted from being simply platonic to something that made your heart race as you got older, Juyeon never once questioned it. He never felt the need to and neither did Sunwoo. You weren’t sure if he was simply oblivious or intentionally ignoring the way you felt, but you were relieved either way.

Juyeon never noticed that your first semester back from university, Sunwoo started to get more physical towards you. His arm being wrapped around you wasn’t new, but where he let his hand rest was. You still remembered the first time it fell on your hips, but it stayed unmoving and almost felt like an unintentional accident. 

Though with Sunwoo, nothing was unintentional. He thought you were beautiful and incredibly hard to resist, but he tried. He tried by simply leaving little hints, hints that could mean nothing or everything at the same time, and hints that Juyeon wouldn’t notice or brush off because Sunwoo wouldn’t cross that line. He’d never be so stupid. 

Sunwoo didn’t want to cross the line, but there was only so much self control he had. Especially when you never, not once, rejected anything that he did. 

You’d just finished your first year at university, enjoying the start of your summer break, when things shifted again. Trying to get used to Sunwoo drawing patterns on your hip or nuzzling up to you could never have prepared you.

The weather was terrible, a summer storm looming outside with the sound of rain crashing against the window as a random horror movie played that you lost interest in within the first twenty minutes, and you could tell Sunwoo didn’t care for it much either. Horror movies were Changmin’s thing, and maybe you should’ve been nice and invited your best friend along for the evening. 

You were leaning against Sunwoo, his arm around you and fingers resting on your hip with a blanket draped over your bare legs and a part of your waist.

Juyeon was on the opposite side, a bowl of near empty popcorn on his lap with a blanket around his own figure. 

Sunwoo shifted, the blanket slipping off your body though he caught it and covered you again, and you would’ve likely barely reacted if it weren’t for his fingers moving over your bare thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, and you tried to hide it with a cough though Sunwoo knew better. 

Though just because he knew better, didn’t mean he was about to risk it entirely. 

He’s slow, as if trying to calculate all the risks in the scenario he’s in, including both your potential rejection and Juyeon seeing what he’s up to, so it’s incredibly delicate as his fingers move under the thin blanket and to the hem of your oversized shirt, pushing it up above your hips. 

Your eyes widen, looking down though the skin he’s exposed lies very much hidden over the thin fabric that’s keeping you warm. You feel like you’re burning and can’t breathe, trying to regulate it without raising any suspicion. 

Sunwoo doesn’t feel your rejection, though he takes the time to whisper as quietly as he possibly can, “say stop and I will.”

You look over to Juyeon, but he hasn’t heard. It’s both a relief and a thrill, and you only nod to Sunwoo, tilting your head slightly upwards and to the side, eyes rested on his plump lips that had just hovered by your ear.

His fingers twist around the thin lace laying over your hip bone before he runs his hand down your thigh. He’s meticulous and painfully slow, but the result is that if you didn’t know any better, even you wouldn’t suspect much of anything. And the thrill of it all leaves you embarrassingly wet. 

You’re impatient too, and maybe it’s a mistake, but you push his hand just enough to rest in between your thighs. Sunwoo isn’t stupid either, he knows exactly what you want and exactly what you’re craving, and he’s more than willing to give it to you now that you’ve cleared up any potential misunderstanding of your motives. 

That’s the problem. Sunwoo has always been more than willing to do anything you ask, even when he shouldn’t. Whilst Juyeon had never explicitly stated that you were off limits, he knew that you were. He could have anyone he wanted. Anyone but you. 

And you’re exactly what he wanted. 

He’s teasing you, mostly because he doesn’t have a choice if he wants to remain discreet, but also because he likes it. He likes seeing you react, how you bite your lip and try to push your legs apart just enough for him to have his fingers between without the movement being too obvious. Sunwoo pushes into you as a response, and you can feel his cock against your ass. 

This was bad. You were both stuck here, and you were feeling incredibly hot and desperately trying to be quiet. 

“Are you okay?” he says it loudly, and you can’t believe the nerve he has to ask you right in front of Juyeon. Your brother looks over at you, concern on his face as Sunwoo’s fingers stop right back on your hip. 

“What’s wrong?” there’s genuine concern there, and now you wonder what you look like. 

“She feels warm. Fever?” 

You want to hit him, but the only way you retaliate is to shift around with the way you’re lying, purposely pushing against him. You hear the angry hiss leave his throat, but it’s so quiet, similar to a low growl, so you don’t think Juyeon hears it, or if he does, he assumes it’s because your shuffling around must’ve kicked his friend. 

“Do you wanna sleep? We can watch this another time,” you nod at your brother, for as much as you very much enjoy the lines you’re crossing, the gamble doesn’t seem worth it with him right here. That, and in some way, you respect your brother just a little too much. 

“I’m gonna have a cold shower,” you twist your body up, ensuring the blanket is still on Sunwoo as he lets you go and repositions on his side, “night Juyeon. Sunwoo.”

You hug your brother goodnight, retaliating by hitting Sunwoo’s ass over the blanket, making him yelp and glare your way as you disappear into the bathroom. 

Fucking hell, did that just happen?

You can’t believe it. The immediate guilt sinks in for what you’ve done. It’s obvious to you, just how deep your crush and sexual attraction for Sunwoo has gotten, but a part of you wishes you could still suppress it. 

The water is ice cold when it hits your skin and you let out a squeal, eventually rinsing yourself off and washing your hair, attempting to snap out of the constant daze and addiction that is Kim Sunwoo. But the more you let him be in your mind, the more he refused to leave, and the worse your thoughts got. 

Maybe you just needed to get laid. It had been a while since your ex (who you conveniently enough, don’t think Sunwoo liked), and now you were in a state of such frustration that you were taking it out onto the only man available in the house. 

Though desire was a funny thing. 

It just wouldn’t go away. 

You lay awake for hours, staring up at your ceiling with only one person on your mind. There’s no doubt you’re losing it, unable to sleep for every time you close your eyes, it’s the same thought and wish for a dream over and over again. 

You resort to the only form of advice you can run to. Changmin.

“It’s two in the fucking morning, please,” he groans, his voice rough and tired, and it really doesn’t help your sexual overdriven hormones. It’s not like you were attracted to your best friend, but his rough voice combined with everything else sent you into a near meltdown. Maybe you should just ask him to sleep with you. 

“I want to fuck Sunwoo,” it’s quiet. You’re not sure if Changmin has to think about what you said first before he reacts, or if he just has no idea how to react, but eventually you hear him shuffle around and speak. 

“I ehrm… I’m not sure what you want me to say to that,” he pauses again, clearing his throat, “does Juyeon know?”

“What the hell do you think?” 

“Yikes, you really do need to get laid,” you nearly scream before remembering that any loud noise is going to garner unwanted attention from the two men that are either just downstairs or down the hall from you, so you suppress your agony instead, “why Sunwoo, though?”

“Have you not seen him?”

“I mean… not recently,” you sigh, rolling onto your side to look out the window. The rain seems endless, so you can’t exactly expect Changmin to get up and walk here to keep you company. 

“You’re staying up with me.”

“I’m tired,” he groans, enough for you to briefly feel bad. Though one of your biggest flaws is your stubbornness and your best friend knows that. 

“If I have someone else give you company, will you let me sleep?”

“Who’s crazy enough to come out at-”

There’s an abrupt cut on the other line, and you realise Changmin’s hung up. He either had a death wish or a plan, maybe both, and honestly, neither were comforting to think about.

A knock on the door breaks you out of it, half expecting your brother or maybe both of the boys to walk in, but it’s only Sunwoo. Immediately, you feel the need to wrap your blanket over your bare legs, “come in?”

He finally steps inside, leaving the door slightly ajar as he approaches you. He’s still in the same sweatpants and shirt from earlier, his hair more ruffled and messy from the constant laying down. He looks so inviting, his lips so full and his eyes so entrancing. It’s pure torture. 

“Changmin messaged me,” you pale, and now you’ve decided that he really does have a death wish, “want to explain?” 

He holds his phone out to you, a message from a number you can recite by heart sent just a minute ago. 

Y/N wants to sleep with you. Double meaning implied. Leave me out of it.

“What the fuck Chan-,”

“Is it true? Double meaning implied?” he smirks, and you realise quickly that to him it’s become a bit of a game to see how far he can push and taunt you until you either decide it’s enough or give in. You’re not sure why Sunwoo suddenly got so confident, though you suppose he always has been, the only difference now is that he knows how you’re thinking.  

“You don’t have to cover up. It’s quite warm,” his voice is low, but you doubt it’s out of worry for Juyeon hearing him. He’s right as well. It may be raining outside, but it’s incredibly hot in here, and you let him when he asks to remove the fabric over your bare legs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed. 

“Are you… still watching that movie?” 

“Finished it. And two others. Juyeon went to bed, it’s literally been hours,” you nod, wondering if he really is two doors down from you, fast asleep. Maybe he’s scrolling through his phone or doing god knows what else. 

“And you?”

“Well…” he starts, his fingers moving up along your left leg and causing shivers to run along your skin, “see, I have a bit of a problem.”

You may regret asking, but curiosity gets the better of you and you feel like you’re damned to hell. That, and the fact that maybe you really don’t care at all anymore, about any of the risks, “which is what?”

He grins, and it’s a smile that tells you he has something on his mind that thrills him and intoxicates you. Sunwoo comes closer, resting the palm of one hand on your inner thigh to push your legs apart, his lips right by your ear, “I really need to know how sweet you taste.”

Your resolve breaks. Maybe it was broken before, but it’s definitely shattered now. A whimper falls past your lips and now he’s right above you, watching with eyes like you’re his prey. 

“Am I allowed, sweetheart?” 

It happens fast, the way you grip his shirt and pull him down until your lips meet. His lips are slightly salted, likely from the popcorn, and he’s quickly pushing his tongue between your lips and gripping you harder by your thigh. He’s rough, a little forceful with it, but you like the dominance he holds over you. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how hard it’s been to resist you,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your neck, one of his hands slipping under your shirt to grope your breasts, playing with the sensitive flesh and hardened nipples, twisting slightly as you mewl underneath him. 

He’s overwhelming you. Sunwoo always has a way for your senses to go into overdrive, but with what he’s doing now, you can’t think.

“P-please,” you sound pathetic, but he’s nice enough to listen. At least you thought he was. 

“Let’s play a game,” oh no. He’s pulling you up, until you sit with your legs over the bed, planted firmly on the floor as your eyes find the still open door. 

You’d forgotten it was open. Sunwoo, however, clearly hadn’t, “what game?”

He’s down on his knees before you, his shirt discarded before you can even blink, and it takes a while to adjust to the naked chest and muscular build he’s always hidden from you. You tremble just at the thought, watching him closely as he repositions your legs onto his shoulder, pulling himself closer to you, “see how quiet you can be with that door open, sweetheart.”

You should be scared. The risk of getting caught has exponentially grown with the factor of an open door, but you feel his teeth lightly dig into the flesh by your upper thigh and you seem to forget everything else. It’s like he’s telling you to pay attention to only him, with each sharp sting of his teeth that leaves your skin red. 

Something about it you love. The dominance maybe, or maybe the possessive nature in which he litters your skin in angry red marks that you want to have, “look at me.”

It’s demanding, but you barely hear it first until his fingers dig into your thighs, pushing your legs just slightly more apart, and you sit up just a little to meet his eyes. He almost looks dangerous, near possessed in his hunger for you, and suddenly you’ve never felt more attractive in your life. 

He makes you feel wanted, and maybe that’s enough to explain why you’ve always been pushed towards him like a magnet. Even if you knew him at a surface level, he’s always been attentive to you in the little things. 

You nearly curse the world the minute Sunwoo delicately lays a kiss over your clothed clit, and it’s frustrating how that alone damn near makes you see stars. Such a simple touch of his lips should not feel like the end for you, and yet it does. You grip his hair before you can help yourself, pushing him between your legs as he chuckles, “are you that desperate?” 

“Shut up,” his nails dig into you harder, a scowl on his face as he nearly drags you down further, and you nearly yelp when your underwear is pushed to the side and his full lips meet your bare folds. 

“F-fuck,” he doesn’t respond to you. Either he’s off in his own world or he’s intentionally ignoring you as punishment for the way you run your mouth, but you’re in heaven, though it feels like the greatest sin that’ll have you sent straight to hell. 

You’d never have said you were a very vocal person in the bedroom. Even if someone made you feel good, your moans were usually quiet, more breathy and whispered than they were loud, but Sunwoo made you want to scream, and knowing you couldn’t made it so much worse.

Sunwoo seemed to know what he wanted, because without much warning, he’s letting his index finger graze your folds and it’s near embarrassing just how much of your juices coat his finger when he does, bringing it up to your lips, “are you gonna be good?”

You nod, desperate as you take his finger in your mouth, sucking on it like you would his cock, the taste slightly sweet while he’s back between your legs. You feel like your senses are going into overdrive, moaning as you take one of your hands and grip his hair, pushing his tongue deeper between your folds, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“S-Sunwoo, p-please,” you want to cum, and it feels like you’re so close, but it’s like he wants to remind you just how insufferable he is as he pushes back the second you feel like you may tip over the edge. 

The whine that releases in your throat is loud and pathetic, and you both share a wide look of shock and worry because what if Juyeon heard it. 

A minute passes, the only noise in the room being both of your heavy breathing, and when Sunwoo decides that Juyeon likely hasn’t woken up, his attention is back on you, “take off your shirt.”

You nearly don’t hear him, too busy staring at his swollen lips that glisten just slightly under the moonlight bleeding into the room, and he looks so beautiful that you feel like you’re falling for him right in that very moment, completely. 

“You need to stop staring like that. It’s not good for my heart,” his words make your head spin just as they put you into action, stripping off the very little you have on until you’re entirely naked. 

Sunwoo just stares first, and you wonder if maybe you should cover yourself but the minute you reach for the blanket, he’s stopping you, “don’t you dare.”

It’s rough, a demand that you listen to, especially when his fingers grip your chin to look up at him, “you look far beyond what I ever dreamed of.”

“You dreamed about me?” 

He grins, leaning down to kiss you as you let yourself go, back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you, “all the time.”

“Tell me,” you wanna hear it. Want to hear what you do to him, when this entire time you just thought that Sunwoo was the one making you crazy. 

“How good you must look with my cock inside you. You’d probably take it so well,” you’re nodding, whimpering slightly as he’s bruising your neck, and your hands are playing with the waistband of his sweatpants, asking without a word for him to take them off. 

It’s a relief to you that he listens, until you’re both entirely naked though you’re the one left salivating at his hardened cock. A little above average but thick, making you feel like you’re going dumb staring at him, “you wanna open that pretty mouth for me?”

You feel him grip your thigh and push you to the edge of the bed again, your face eye level with his waist, and it’s almost instinctual for you to part your lips, the tip of his cock laid flat on your tongue until you take him deeper. 

It becomes clear to you that you underestimated his girth, your jaw quickly sore but you don’t want to accept it either, relaxing your muscles as you swirl your tongue underneath the base of his shaft, moaning around his cock, eyes finding his to see that he’s already staring at you with such darkened lust that you feel like he desires only you, and it makes your head spin. 

“Just a little more, good girl,” his praise goes right to your core, making you shake and he notices, fingers tugging at your hair as you take him just a little more, your mouth so full that you have to release him and gasp for air, but Sunwoo doesn’t mind for a second that you need to pull away. 

Especially not when his patience is running thin with what he really wants. 

You watch him step away from you, making you nearly cry out and complain but he moves to sit up with his back against the headboard, tapping his thigh as if inviting you onto his lap, and you don’t need to be told twice to obey his wishes. He grabs your waist when you’re close enough, and in a way it’s gentle as he guides you, straddling him and making his cock ache against your bare cunt, your juices coating him as he tries to steady his breathing. 

“F-fuck, you sure you want this?”

He looks pained, like he would shatter if he had to stop now, but you also see in his eyes that he’s genuine. That he’s giving you one last out if you want to take it. Fortunately for you both, you don’t want to.

“Yes, p-please Sunwoo?” 

It’s the desperation in your voice that releases something primal in him, the last bit of reserve leaving him as he lifts your thighs with a harsh grip that makes you see stars, aligning his cock against your entrance. He’s careful and slow, which at first you want to cry about, but you quickly realise that he has to be slow or he may hurt you, your body having to adjust to how tight it’s gripping him. 

“G-god, have you never been fucked before?” 

“Not like t-this,” your mouth hangs open, eyes shut as he feels his possession of you grow, and it does things to him knowing that it’s only him that’s got you squeezing around his cock like it’s your first time. 

“There you go,” the praise makes you whimper again, clenching around him and Sunwoo nearly sees stars when he realises how much you like to be praised and told you’re good for him. 

He feels like you’re cursing him straight to hell with the thoughts you’re giving him, something primal in him awakening, leaving him barely able to wait for you to let him move. 

“P-please, m-more,” the open door has been forgotten the second Sunwoo lifts you off his cock before slamming into you, making you nearly scream in pleasure though he muffles it with his hand, alarmed though not near enough to have him stop. He doesn’t think he can, not with the way you feel around him, meeting the thrusts of his hips halfway as you bounce on his cock. 

“S-Sunwoo, m-more,” he groans, eyes falling between the way he disappears inside you and your lips, and he knows he can never return to seeing you the way he did before, not now that he knows he’s gotten his hands on you. 

“I want you to belong to me,” it should maybe be alarming, to hear him lay claim on you like this, but to you it’s the sexiest thing anyone’s said to you, and honestly, you know you already do. 

“F-fuck, yes,” your movements quicken, his hand finding the base of your neck, just to grip onto you but not adding any pressure, but the action is enough to urge you on, like you want to do more for him and he hisses at the way your wrapped around him so tight and willing. 

“Good, y-you do so good,” Sunwoo feels like he’s burning, gripping both your hips when he feels you lose control at his praise, keeping you in place with a vice hold that might even bruise, and you know you’re going not going to last. Not when you see the way his eyes are glazed over and never leaving you, his hair clinging to his forehead and his muscular chest moving rapidly as he breathes.

“Sunwoo, I-”

“I k-know baby,” his voice is smooth, but his pace is feverish and rough, and his neck presents itself to you just as the scale tips and you’re releasing your orgasm, biting into the skin of his shoulder to hide your pleasured screams of his name, the cries and the pathetic way he makes you whimper and see stars. 

The pressure and pain from your teeth and knowing why you bit him just as you grip his cock harder inside your walls has him spilling his cum into you before he can properly warn you, but you don’t seem to mind at all as his lips fall to your shoulder, muffling his own breathing as you both come down from your high. 

His hands find your back, nails grazing the skin gently before he’s just holding you in his arms, wincing slightly from the way you’re stimulating his cock even now, but when he tries to pull away from you, you grip onto him tighter. 

“P-please,” he nearly wants to cry, head falling back against the headboard as he looks up, trying to collect himself and maybe even think about what he’s just done. But all that runs through his mind is how you’re keeping him in place, gripping him, whimpering and willing and his, and he’s forgetting every possible consequence to his insane actions. 

“I’m a dead man,” you laugh, properly for the first time in a while and it makes him smile, and as much as he wants to keep you over him, to fill you up, he’s also a little more than relieved when you fall next to him because he’s not sure he could’ve handled the overstimulation any longer without being the one to beg. 

“So is Changmin,” even if your best friend will likely ask you questions, and likely throw it in your face that he did you a favor, you still very much want to kill him. Sunwoo chuckles, brushing his fingers against your shoulder gently, and the way his eyes are watching you so softly now makes your head spin.

“Kim Sunwoo, put your fucking clothes on or I will drag your naked ass out anyway, you’re dead,” both of you tense, simultaneously looking to the ajar door, though you can’t actually see Juyeon, you just very much know he’s there. You guess it could be considered kind of him to not just barge in, but it almost makes you more embarassed because if he’s not walking in, he knows exactly why he shouldn’t and there’s no way out for either of you.

You expect Sunwoo to be more ashamed or worried, but he sends you a cheeky grin and kisses your forehead before stumbling over to his discarded grey sweats. 

“Well, guess I have to go princess,” and while you’re left blushing, incredibly embarrassed, his bashfulness makes you smile, even when you know that Sunwoo is very much screwed. 

“Y/N, you too. Now.”

And so are you. 

waiting to be chased for the open ending but it just wasn’t important to the story to add what happens there so... 

anyway thank you to everyone for reading, commenting and liking my work even while i was gone :) there will be more cause like i said... moonbae threesome and juyeon hands whoops

on a rather serious note though, please do not plagiarise my damn work. i spend hours on it and while i was grateful to be tagged and made aware of what was happening to me and other writers, it really makes it hard to even have motivation to write and dedicate that time if someone just takes it. i understand similarities in ideas because that happens (like please, as if i’m the first to do brothers best friend), but to copy paste is just beyond disrespectful and i’m tired of it. 

tbz masterlist

[atxxzist]

spring in our hearts | c.s (preview)

summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: angst, slice of life, suggestive, romance, fluff?

release date: sometime around next week, idk

and he probably didn’t push too hard because it’s almost like he knew you’re gonna be there; waking up before it’s even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.

his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn’t feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.

“hey!” he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.

“good morning,” you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can’t see them because you wonder what he’d think.

“how you’d sleep?” he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn’t even think it was possible.

“good,” you manage to answer with composure. “and you?”

“alright.” he shrugs. “wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night’s dinner.”

a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. “well i’m sorry to hear. i hope today will be better.”

he nods. “hopefully.” then realizing you haven’t even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, “don’t tell me you were waiting for me.”

“i was,” you say. “don’t worry about it. i’m not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty.”

“if you say so…” he lingers a bit before continuing, “should we go now?”

“sure.”

you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they’ve switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.

“well, i really only eat korean foods,” you tell him. “i’m not too fond of anything else besides what’s on my plate right now.”

“ahh. so you’re a picky eater?”

“somewhat. that’s why yeosang hates going out to eat with me.”

san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don’t read into.

“you talk about yeosang a lot… does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?” he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.

the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can’t hide the fact the question flusters you a little.

“well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while… even before grace, so she understands that we don’t see each other like that at all.”

san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.

“why?” you speak again. “do we give out that kind of vibe?” you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn’t get rid of.

but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.

“just wondering,” he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can’t quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san’s answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.

“and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?” you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know… not for any reasons deeper.

“she’s a friend,” he answers fast and casual. “i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot.”

“i see,” you mumble, a light smile anyone would’ve missed because you don’t wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.

but it doesn’t cut it with grace.

“that’s what they always say!” she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.

but you don’t have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don’t think it’s fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn’t really your man.

“for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors.”

“grace!” you yell your friend’s name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.

“sorry,” she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.

“i just don’t want you to be hurt in the end,” she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn’t even know you need.

because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons… but you don’t feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.

you’re not with him and you still don’t even know if you wanna be with him.

“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”

and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.

how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.

the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.

[saetoshi]

you pavlov’d nagi. you’re sure of it.

funny thing is, you hadn’t even meant for it to happen.

part of you feels bad for accidentally doing it to him. (the other part of you really enjoys the results, though.)

you tap your pencil against the table, a faint smile on your lips.

“sei,” you call out, “c’mere.”

he’s standing next to you in a matter of seconds, an expectant look in his eyes. (it’s cute how there’s a small hint of a smile on his lips, you think.)

“that was quick,” you laugh.

he blinks, raising your hands to cup his cheeks. “don’t stall.”

you playfully roll your eyes. “fine.”

you lean up to press a quick kiss to his lips. there corners of his lips quirk up when you pull away. nagi pulls out a chair next to you, quickly taking a seat and resting his head against the table.

“it’s funny,” you muse.

he tilts his head slightly in confusion. “what is?”

you cheekily smile, “the fact i pavlov’d you into expecting a kiss whenever i say c’mere.”

a pout tugs at his lips. you laugh at his reaction, reaching out to pat his head.

“whatever.” he sulks.

“don’t pout!” you poke his nose, “you’re getting something good out of it.”

he huffs, “you’re mean.”

“i’m not!” you snort.

he hides his face from your gaze, “i bet you did it on purpose.”

“i did not,” laughter spills from your lips when you hear his teasing tone.

“sei,” you wipe tears off your eyes, “i promise i didn’t pavlov you intentionally.”

he lifts his head to look at you, brows furrowed. “i don’t believe you.”

you roll your eyes, “you can pavlov me back if it’ll make you feel better.”

there’s a slight twinkle in his eyes when you say that. “really?”

“sure.” you shrug, “just make it something sweet.”

he frowns. you frown back, jaw dropping in faux offense.

“mine is cute!” you huff, “you receive a kiss.”

you cross your arms, “it’s only fair that i get to be pavlov’d with something nice.”

he stares at you, pouting, “fine.”

there’s a small pause.

“what should i do?”

you blink. “what should i know?”

“you did it first.” he mutters.

“i didn’t mean to!” you shoot back.

“yeah, sure,” his lips curve up slightly.

“fine,” you pout, “don’t believe me.”

a comfortable silence settles between the two of you. nagi rests his head back on the table, a slightly focused look on his face.

“sei.”

his head perks up at the sound of his name, a curious twinkle in his eyes. his eyes slightly widen at the mischievous look in yours.

you hold your arms out, a big grin on your face, “c’mere.”

[callistoscope]

a healthy venture

Summary: As most know, sexual experimentation is all apart of a healthy relationship! It just so happens to coincide with a very awkward relationship for a couple like Harvey and Clarice, however.

Pairing: Cringefail(Clarice) x Harvey. (if you know you know.)

Word Count: 7.4k. I know, it’s ridiculous.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. AWKWARD smut. Takes a hot minute to get there, but when it’s there, it is THERE. The sexual experimentation in question is PEGGING with not much else, so….

a/n: this is silly and very crackfic-adjacent but also So Serious to me. also, yeah I guess they’re in a relationship, but early stages? probably had sex before this? Idk, whatever makes the most sense. sorry if the writing style comes off kinda cringe sometimes!!! I really tried to connect the writing style to what I imagine cringefail’s thought process would be like. and it might generally come off more amateurish since it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written. have mercy pls I swear I was so much better at writing like a year ago I’m getting back into the swing of things </3. If you have no idea who cringefail is or why’s she being paired with Harvey, she’s from @clarisinne ‘s comic!!! check it out!!!!!!(peer pressuring you). also @cowboyweevil since u asked me to tag u!

——

Clarice will be the first to admit that her life is consistently in tatters, and more often than not, it's her own hand that tears up that life the most. She had never been the type to have a sturdy head atop her unsteady shoulders— more the type to awkwardly headbutt into every problem and success that dared to beseech her. Both intentionally and unintentionally, sometimes simultaneously.

One thing she does know, a tidbit of information carved so deep into the recesses of her mind that even dementia wouldn't rob her of this simple fact— her sister was a fucking menace.

Clarice could have given her sister some semblance of underserved grace, could have said she wasn't so bad, if only that's where her bad qualities stopped. But Mars's abhorrent behavior was made all the more pesky by how relentless she was.

Her sister was as relentless as the damn splinter still wedged into Clarice's foot, a recent injury she had been careful to make sure Harvey wasn't privy to.

Harvey.

This was all his fault, really. For such a highly respected doctor, for whom which his town had only the most upstanding of opinions of him, beholding him as kind and responsible, Clarice feels safe in saying that her health had went down a steep decline since the moment. . . this happened. Since the moment this strikingly warm, gooey feeling coagulated in her heart, not unlike that of a fatal blood clot. Her life is effectively cut in half from the amount of stress she's experience since moving to this town. Her life force is visibly draining away, day by day, she's sure.

And her darling sister has the nerve to kick her while she's already down. Escalating the gradual deterioration of Clarice's health like the terminal illness only Mars can be like.

Even now, her sister giggles behind her hand in midst the autumn wind, brimming with an audacity that makes Clarice seethe. She has to bite back the urge to chuck her full watering can at her.

Casually, her sister leans down to pluck a pumpkin from the ground, holding it proudly in her arms. A smile plays on her face, one Clarice does not like one bit. "You know... I've been thinking—"

"Stop doing that."

"I've been thinking—" she trots along, happy as a clam. Content as a mischievous cat might be more apt. "If Harvey doesn't step up more, you might really have to take the reins. In a way you don't expect."

Stubbornly, Clarice stays off to the side. She crosses her arms, clutching the watering can high up in protest. Her job this morning was to water whatever crops weren't already covered by their sprinklers, and she was feeling like her labor wasn't deserved the more this conversation carried on. Nothing of substance had been said yet, but Clarice's ears pick up on the lilt in her little sister's voice.

Said sister finally shoots her a cursory glance over her shoulder. "Really! I'm just trying to help you out!" The laughter in her voice says otherwise. "Because, honest to God, the more I think about it— the more plausible it becomes."

Clarice's eyes narrow, body tense in anticipation for the nearing punchline. "... What?" However hesitant, the word ebbs out all the same.

Clarice can see her sister's figure trembling already, frame wracked with inexplicable mirth, and she already wants to sink into the dirt. "Because—" she starts, unhelpfully, voice warbling, "I'm sorry, but that is the exact kind of man who'd wanna get pegged."

Mars's voice grows high-pitched, wavering, and the cackle she lets out would rival a witch. Clarice can hardly focus on that sound, her ears ringing so loud it blocks everything else. Pegging. What the fuck?

Her face grows hot, and it takes conscious effort to not pass out right onto the dirt ground. Whether it be from the thought alone or merely from the fact that her younger sister thought this made for acceptable conversation, Clarice can't be sure. Before Clarice can even hope to respond, the other is rattling off like she's finally been given an excuse to.

"And— and listen! I'm not judging! Good for Harvey! Good for you! As long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, right?" She bites the words out a bit, trying not to laugh too hard, nearly dropping the pumpkin.

"Stop." Clarice chokes, half plea half threat, blood rushing through her ears. Her mind is fraying at the edges, her brain rotting in record time. She's just starting to stomp her way over to her bastard sister.

"All I'm saying is— I know an online shop that'll ship here, yeah? Sells strap-ons, and has good variety. Pretty quick, too! Poor Harvey won't have to wait very long."

Clarice's free hand just reaches up to claw at her scalp in mortified agony, freezing for one sickening moment. She's on the path to getting her bearings and cursing Mars out like she never has before. Her mind is just on the verge of rewiring itself into proper working order. Like most things in her life, however, Clarice's life never stops at one bad thing.

"Um."

Harvey's voice is small, but the effect it has on her body is not. Clarice's body goes stiff as a rod, and the awkwardly loud clearing of his throat finally coaxes her into snapping her head back to look at him. So hard that one of her braids whips against her throat. Harvey stays where he is, loitering around the entrance of the farm with an odd rigidity to his face.

Clarice's body proves untrustworthy, and the hand holding the watering can goes limp. It's the moment after the tepid metal slips from her fingers that the gravity of her mistake hits her.

It really does hit her— the hefty watering swishes loudly as it lands straight on her foot with the accuracy of an Olympic gymnast.

"Fuck!" Clarice all but howls, stumbling back and promptly tipping back onto the dirt with an equally pained shout. It's a hard fall that ends with her gaze blearily aimed up at the blue sky, her ears picking up the sounds of two pairs of shoes scuttling up their respective pathways.

Of course. Of course it was the foot she had the splinter in.

——

Of all the sexual escapades both her waking and unconscious mind liked to torture herself with by envisioning… Clarice will admit that pegging isn't one of them. Not to say that her thoughts are incapable of running along the more adventurous paths she catches herself pointedly trying to ignore, but it simply had never come up.

Until now, at the violation of her coveted free will, at her sister's hands. She wishes all the terrible things for Mars, sometimes.

And she really shouldn't be mulling over her sister's words seriously, but her mind is deliberately caught on the thought.

... How does Clarice even feel about the concept? Even vaguely, if she just distantly ponders over what exactly that would entail? Maybe she feels some sexual curiosity she'll get to sating one of these days, should Harvey give it the okay?

If Clarice lets her mind do more than skim over the topic, however... the honest reality of what such an activity would bring is enough for her to be content to shelf it out of sheer mortification, never to see the light of day. Harvey, as always, is a different case. Adds integers into the equation that forces Clarice to reconsider everything, to reach for a different conclusion she otherwise never would have. She's forced into growth with him, sickeningly enough.

More annoyingly, she's forced into tending to herself in areas where she usually would shrug and walk it off. As soon as the hard, metal, heavy watering can had crashed onto her foot, the strange tension dispersed throughout the farm had vaporized on Harvey's part. Harvey had been painfully normal to her for those few minutes. Fussing over her, taking her carefully by the arm and coaxing her into her own house, insisting he check her foot for any major damage.

Mars had the social grace to stay outside, and Clarice prays she has enough to feel ashamed. She's knocked out of that thought when Harvey cautiously presses down on the top of her foot, and she promptly hisses.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, mouth flitting to a little frown. Harvey looks up at her from where he's taken a knee in front of her to closely inspect her foot, those brown eyes of his more like puppy dog eyes. "Just want to make sure nothing's fractured." Despite his words, he presses down at a different area of her foot, and Clarice's leg twitches with the instinct to kick him.

Her mind continues to fluctuate between nauseating panic and increasing irritation at Harvey's continued poking and prodding. It all culminates when he leans back, seeming satisfied with his work, meeting her eyes another time.

Abruptly, his eyes widen and his gaze scatters back to the floor, and that's all the confirmation Clarice needs to know exactly what place Harvey's mind goes back to. She'd had hope he'd forgotten about it, but that hope is thoroughly dashed and thrown back to drown in the river.

"So. Um..." he trails back into silence just as rapidly as he starts to speak, a palpable tension fracturing any temporary peace that had settled. Harvey shuffles, a stiffness settling over his body that she notices. It's the soft blush that peeks over his ears that does Clarice in, an innocent seashell pink that makes her eyes dart to the opposite direction of the room in deflection. Her hands claw shakily at the leather of the couch.

"Listen... I know it's technically none of my business, and it wasn't exactly meant for my ears—" Harvey lets out a labored breath. From the corner of her eye, Clarice can see his head tilt up, before hesitantly bobbling back down. He seems torn on where he should be looking. "And, uh— I didn't exactly hear everything? So, uh..." he says, voice wavering at the end. Clarice chances a glance, only to see a bright red blooming over the slopes of his cheeks, hands clenching at the pant leg of the knee he's supporting his weight on.

"I'm really sorry if I'm misunderstanding, but... how exactly did that topic come up?" He squirms a little from where he's kneeling, as if even just saying such vague words wired a shot of adrenaline straight through his nervous system. Clarice can relate, even if she knows what he's feeling is infinitesimal compared to the amount of adrenaline coursing through her.

Steam might start coming out through her ears if her mind ponders on any of this any longer. "... My sister brought it up." she mumbles, voice strained. Clarice brings her hands up, rubbing her temples, her cheeks nearly scorching her palms. Apologies, insults directed at her sister, humiliated blubbering, all sit at the tip of her tongue, but she just can't manage it. It's more like there's a stone in her mouth, on the verge of suffocating her, and her lips feel dementedly stitched together. "She thought you'd— I don't know. You know." It feels like flames lick up her cheeks then, and she winces with grief at the bitter loss of normalcy regarding their relationship. Who is she kidding? That ship had long since passed.

"Ah," Harvey actually scratches at the back of his neck, and something about that makes her want to scream in pain. It's such a stereotypical display of anxiety, and it makes those gooey feelings spring up like unwanted weeds along the sidewalk of her heart. It's endearing, damn him. "So, you're not...?"

Harvey eyes trail back up, she can feel them on her body before she can see them. Her eyes meet his in quick succession, and she feels herself jolt as if she's touched a live wire. He himself seems a bit frozen in comparison, but there's a glint in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed, looking uncertain yet decidedly... curious. Flustered and nervous, but not disgusted.

Clarice jolts again, eyes going wide, hands falling from her head. She probably tears a few red hairs out in the process, but doesn't have the presence of mind to care when her mind is racing a mile a minute. "Oh God, you are into it." she blurts, bewildered for a multitude of reasons.

Any bravado Harvey seems to have procured promptly breaks from under him, his head bowing down as he's left to pick up the pieces. "I didn't say that!" he insists shakily, sweeping a hand through his hair.

"It's just— if that was something you were into, I wanted to..." Harvey's voice dies, swiftly fishing his hand out of his hair. "I... didn't want you to feel ashamed about it, is all. Or like you couldn't talk to me about it." he finishes with an exhale, his face brimming with a vibrant red.

Clarice swallows, shifting on the couch with an antsy energy. "... How do you feel about it?" she forces out, more stiffly than she'd like. Her methods of communication were never as smooth or clear-cut as she envisioned. Moments like these only exacerbated that flaw. "You can... talk to me, too." She cringes. She sounds a little robotic.

Yet, Clarice had promised herself to try and be more... open, about any such topics with Harvey. To be considerate and hold his feelings with higher priority than following through on her track record and waving them away. Instead of regressing into the skittish fawn she is at heart and dashing away.

Harvey fidgets before slowly rising to his feet, face still red as a rose. "I haven't thought about it much, until now. But honestly, I don't feel negatively about it." Something shifts in his expression, fills his face with unyielding tension, and his eyes shyly flit to the other side of the room.

"Morbid curiosity is probably the most accurate emotion for what I'm feeling." It's said with a weight, as though he's confessing some grand sin to a noble higher priest. "It was clearly just meant to all be jokes, though, so the last thing I'd do is expect anything out of it! Not to say I even really want anything out of it."

She sucks in a deep, steadying breath.

"It's okay if you do." Clarice's face flames as soon as she dares to utter such words. She gestures awkwardly with her hands, body more akin to lifeless metal than flesh and blood. "Haha! Sex—" she chokes, abruptly restarting the sentence.

"Sexual— Sexual experimentation is just a part of a healthy relationship! And we're healthy!" Smiling tightly, the inflection of her voice comes out more manic, a little frantic. She bumps her elbow against him, harder than she means if the wince that stretches over Harvey's face has anything to say about it.

"And it's normal! We're normal, and we can do this! Right, doctor?" Clarice grits her teeth a little, elbowing him again, desperate.

"Y- Yeah! Hah, definitely!" Harvey laughs nervously, rubbing the side of his stomach. "But, we should probably discuss this more, if you're really being serious—"

"— Harvey," Her face is promptly buried in her hands, unable to even cast a glance in his direction. "I'm at my limit. Please."

Another anxious little laugh bubbles out of him, pulling at a loose thread hanging from his coat. "Of course. Yes, that's, whatever makes you comfortable. We can talk about this later."

——

The simple fact of the matter is that they do. It's a verbal scuttle that seesaws back into Clarice conversationally dragging her feet, as most conversation between them winds up being on her end. How Harvey puts up with it is beyond her— hell, Harvey himself is beyond her.

Kind, wonderful Harvey mystifies her as much as he begrudgingly enchants. He is some strange, glittering galaxy that perplexes her with his intent to be swept into her chaotic gravity. Terrifyingly considerate, practically falling over himself with every other word when he insists that they don't have to do this, he wants her to be comfortable, he only wants what she wants—

And... What does Clarice want? The question echoes in her mind, the answer echoing in kind.

To be sated.

This curiosity, it stifles her in its attempt to persuade her. It sits in her chest, leaves residue when it attempts to glue itself in her head. Clarice had waved it off, tried to ignore it, but the remains fester there. The rot of the idea is only fertilizer, and ultimately, it only grows. She's curious, and she's always been one to explore what springs that emotion in her. For the most part.

And when she finally wrings out that honesty out of herself, Harvey flusters, but moves with the natural pull that such a confession swings a conversation into: what now? What's the plan?

There's a list of questions that are steadily answered, ticked off the mental list she's sure Harvey had conjured up in his head. Where? Definitely your apartment, I'd kill you and myself if my sister heard. Okay. Uh, how would we get the... equipment? Ship it to your apartment. My sister would never let me live it down if she got even a hint of it.

Many similar questions and answers filtered out amongst them. Harvey makes some timid remark about doing his own personal research regarding how he should prepare himself, and the conversation is effectively capped off for a few weeks. It's the persistent elephant in the room, one that grows inexplicably bigger one day in later Autumn. Finally, after some surface level digging that more exposed how deeply it burdened Harvey's mind rather than exposed any real concern from Clarice, he admitted that that the equipment came. 'It,' he'd referred to it so aptly.

It. It came. There wasn't much more to plan than the main event itself. Not much more to do other than biting the bullet and doing it. With the grand exception being thinking about it, a crime which Clarice finds herself exuberantly guilty of. The last few weeks had given her heartburn, her thoughts becoming expertly nomadic in the way they traveled from normal and innocent to salient and crude. Stray thoughts that clustered rapidly in one great moment of imagination before popping and deflating like a balloon. Leaving her flustered in midst her daily chores, normalcy strained for the rest of the day.

What would Harvey say? What would he sound like, how would it feel? How would Clarice feel, really, to be the one giving in such a way?

She didn't have to wonder much longer. Even still, her curiosities still ring so loud in her head as she stands at the door of the clinic, heart running at such a magnitude that a hummingbird's would pale in comparison. She clutches her to go bag in an iron grip, the reason why she had a to go bag making her body all the hotter.

Clarice's mind whirrs when the door opens, and it doesn't stop until they reach Harvey's humble apartment towards the top, and even then, it only dulls. She isn't even sure what sort of pleasantries they exchanged, too strung up in her thoughts to be in anything other than on autopilot.

"We don't have to do this," Harvey drills the notion yet again into her head as he is bending down at the side of his bed, hand grasping blindly at the space under the bed frame. "Really. We could just sit in for a normal night. I wouldn't mind any."

Clarice gathers herself, though her efforts are futile when it's like trying to keep water in her hands. "I would." she bites out, sucking in a breath through her teeth with a whistling sound as she gracelessly lets her bag drop to the floor. "I want to. We're doing this." she says, surprising herself with the shaky, albeit no less sincere, conviction in her voice.

"... As long as, you know, you're still down with it." she falters, twiddling with the sleeve of her jacket absently. Her gaze returns to Harvey when she hears a sliding sound, like something being dragged across the floor.

"I am!" Harvey breathes, voice wavering. He isn't looking at her, instead looking at the box he'd apparently stashed under his bed. "... I just like to be sure about these sorts of things." He stands back up with the box in tow, presenting it to her as he steps closer and closer. His face is already flushing, though it's a soft dainty pink that she finds all too fitting on him.

As her gaze roves over the box, it is not a dainty pink that seizes her face. On the white box is an understandably crude picture of a dildo, a strap-on she thinks belatedly, with words in varying fonts spewed around it. Reviews, the technical name of this model, the brand. Interestingly enough, it seems Harvey bought a set, her eyes pick up. A strap-on and a harness.

It hits her all at once, and she makes a sound that is part laugh and part cry. She's incredulous, unable to conceive everything that is happening, the things that click into place. "God, you hid it? Under your bed?" she mumbles, the humor of the situation washing over her as she lets out a raspy laugh. Harvey, the highly respected doctor of Pelican Town, hiding a strap-on under his bed.

Harvey makes an affronted noise, though his voice trembles a little with laughter when he weakly replies, "Yes. It— I didn't have room for it in my drawer." Bashfully, he gestures to said drawer, the one next to his colossal bookcase.

Clarice snorts, and the tension eases. Where this is all going, where the current is taking them, doesn't seem so scary for a moment. Harvey smiles, still a little timid, and starts to open up one of the flaps of the box. "Is it really that funny?"

"I don't know. Probably not." Clarice admits in a weak voice of her own, swallowing as he moves back the layers of the box. It's one of those types, weirdly shiny and like plastic more than the traditional brown box. That tension fills back in slightly when her eyes catch sight of it. Well, not yet, it's in a protective pouch— but nothing can really hide the distinct shape that the fabric really only enhances.

It only takes a moment for Harvey to grasp it, holding it in a limp grip as he pointedly looks at the other contents of the box, ears tipped in red. "And, ah, hm," Awkwardly, he moves the pouch into the curve of his elbow, the back of his arm holding it against his body. His free arm fishes out the harness more preparedly, touching it less like a dead fish. "Here's... the harness."

It takes a moment to realize that he's holding it out to her, waiting for her to take it. Clarice shuffles with nervous energy, taking it and holding it stiffly away from her body. As if any making any further contact with it will scorch her. She already burns, and it's in the most humiliating way. An uncomfortable heat bread-crumbing its way lower and lower, with plenty of pauses. "Should I... put it on?"

Harvey makes a sound, lips parting as if to say something. They only close again, and she can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. He only nods, abruptly turning around. Only then does he find his voice. "Probably, yes."

Respectively, both parties begin to disrobe, Clarice starting with her shoes and socks and whittling away at the rest. A part of her tries to be neat about it, wants to be, but quickly loses that train of thought as soon as she has it. Anxiety gnaws at her the whole way through, until there's a messy pile of clothes sitting next to her and a weight in her chest. And the harness tightly in her grasp. Clarice rubs the fabric between thumb and forefinger curiously, sighing as she starts to journey of putting it on.

And a journey it is, anxiety quickly becoming secondary to the frustration that shuffles to the forefront of her mind. Trying to figure out what could be adjusted, how to hold certain parts of the harness while she slides it further up her body, it was a bit of a nightmare. Clarice adjusts the position of the O-ring when she's decently certain it's secure enough, pulling the adjustable straps against her body tighter afterwards just for extra security.

Clarice exhales a slow breath as she turns, wiping sweat from her brow. Only to find Harvey watching, naked from the waist down, his dark eyes a little wide and glazed, clutching the hem of his shirt. He jolts, hand fidgeting with the hem, as if unable to decide if he should take it off or not. "I'm so sorry, I just—"

"Were you staring at me?" Clarice asks, mortification budding at every nerve in her body in hot sparks.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't struggling with the harness!" Harvey says defensively, slipping his shirt off in one bold movement. "Because, if you were, I did look into it. I... should have mentioned that." His voice grows calm again, face ripening to more of a raspberry pink. Predictably, he folds his shirt up with practiced ease, almost more of a nervous tic than him actively wanting to.

Her eyes absently wander over his body, only to trail down harshly even at something as simple as the look of his bare chest. Clarice catches blurry snapshots at every other part of his body, but her mind is too scrambled to attempt to study the details.

"Should I..." she hears Harvey swallow this time, him almost making a gurgling noise at the back of his throat. "Should I get onto my back?" he continues, voice edging on squeaky.

"No," she blurts, shaking her head frenetically. She can't. There's many things she can do right now, is willing to, wants to do, but having Harvey on his back under her during this, helpless and pliant... she just can't do that right now. It stirs something in her, sure, something she may want to get to know more intimately in due time. Maybe. But not now. "I'm getting on my back. You're going to have to just— figure it out."

She hugs her body, wobbling over to his bed with the intention to plop down in a show of dominance, only to pause. The pouch lays on his bed, the fabric still doing absolutely nothing to disfigure the phallic shape. That's all it takes to make her sweat again, that anxiety of hers rising from its grave as she picks it up much like he had carried it previously. Underlining it all is that tailspin of anticipation, lying snugly under any negative emotions that threaten to impede the event.

"I mean you can just, you know," she stammers, eyes bulging at her own thoughts. "You know." Her eyes avoid him, digging her fingers into the opening and tugging it open, looking away when she grasps at the flared base. Clarice has no hope of keeping her eyes open as she slides it out of the silk, immediately fluttering closed just upon seeing purple. Prying her eyes back open, she forces a study session of sorts, discerning any texture she can make out by sight. It seems... smooth, not sculpted to be very indicative of an actual dick besides the base shape. More like an artist's under drawing.

Harvey is staring at it just as intently, with bated breath, hands clenching into fists. "That's okay, I can do that. I just, before that, I'll need to... prep myself. I can't just—" His hand lurches up to adjust his glasses shakily, that scarlet Harvey has been valiantly fighting off spilling on his cheeks like paint. "I-I need to use my fingers first."

Clarice's eyes aren't beckoned away from the toy at that, but her brain fizzles. It flickers and flames, a part of her screaming to watch and another pleading to cover her face the whole time. You'll never survive if you watch, it pleads.

"... Okay." she chokes, because what other response is there? "I'm also going to... prepare." Her voice sounds so small, even to her own ears. With a trembling hand, Clarice twists the toy in her grip, carefully holding the flared base awkwardly to her pelvis, trying to figure out how to thread the base into the O-ring. Harvey tries to pipe up helpfully, blabbering nervously about what to do, but shuts up when Clarice begs out, "Please shut up."

Harvey is fumbling with something, and once Clarice ensures the strap-on is slotted in correctly, she turns to see him drawing out a little bottle of what she can only assume is lube. He opens it in a diligent twist, coating his fingers quickly and wincing. She notes how he seems to focus on covering two fingers above all else, and that flame stirs again. More like a spark, hesitant but hungry for a chance to ignite.

She stiffly sits and lays on the bed, in such a way that her legs splay out over the side of the bed, soles of her feet touching the wood. Harvey passes the lube to her, pressing it to her stomach. "You're... You should probably use this, too." he says, face flushing a red that Clarice's own rushes to imitate. Harvey sits, but does not lay, in the same way she does. Except he props a leg up on the bed, spreading himself open, pressing that knee to his stomach as he settles next to her. She decides to be grateful she can't see anything from this angle, only his back, everything else too far in her peripheral to make anything particularly lewd out.

That gratitude is a fleeting present, for she is suddenly made intimately aware of the moment he must edge a finger into himself by the way his breath hitches. Clarice can't not notice, it's such a sharp sound that resonates in her ears— the leg up on the bed twitches. The bed creaks, and the spark ignites like a firework.

She brings a hand up to her mouth as her eyes betray her, her own thighs twitching with want for relief as she scours his back. Sees his shoulder blades flex when he must push in deep, loosen when he pulls out shallow. Harvey's very breath is trembling, his hips attempting to buck, but only succeeding in a meek roll with the way he's scrunched up.

"I'm so sorry if this is weird," he says, voice muffled and breathy. He must be covering his mouth with his free hand, too. Clarice can't say anything, especially not when he sighs as a tremor wracks through his body. His hips give another pitiful roll, his head lolling back for a brief second.

"H-Have you done this before?" she asks, perhaps too banally. It's just too practiced, he falls into each motion with too much ease. Experience. Her ears are reacting that way to sound again, any noise muted, as if underwater.

Harvey whines quietly, though the sound reeks more of humiliation than bliss. Clarice's body reacts the same regardless, shifting on the bed fruitlessly. She can feel herself pulsing, and she thinks she's gonna pass out if she focuses on that facet of this situation any more than she needs to.

"... Not before any of this came up. Just over the past few weeks." he manages shakily, "Just... just to see what I thought. To see if I liked it."

The bed creaks particularly loud with one swipe of his pelvis, and the sound he makes does sound more pleased. "Didn't want to make you go through any of this if I didn't even like it."

"... And you like it?"

Clarice buries her face in her hand then, when the silence stretches out a bit too long. Every part of her burns. Every nerve is roaring fire, and it's suffocating. What could even relieve her, she doesn't know.

"... Yeah. It was— it's nice." Harvey gasps out, a flurry of panicked breaths escaping him. He's trying to catch his breath, body going tense as wood. He tries to exhale, some other noise laden in it. "I think— I think I'm ready."

Harvey's arm looks disfigured as he moves it from this angle, the movement sputtering to a quickness that slows just as soon. His head tilts as he wipes sweat from his forehead with his free hand, seeming to completely pause. it's confirmed when he rests the other hand on his leg.

Her mind is caught in a constant loop of What do I do? and I don't know for a few seconds. For once, Clarice's body is dependable and rational, a hand grabbing for the small plastic bottle on her stomach. It's like all sentience has seeped out of her ears, her mind going blank as she pumps the strap-on absently, making the toy nice and slick. Apparently, she’s already poured it out on her hand.

The blankness in her head abruptly swirls into color, thoughts, visions, when Harvey turns his body. He gets onto his knees, ushering himself closer to her body, but not bridging any actual distance. His warm skin and body sit plainly out of reach.

Harvey hums plaintively, and Clarice can't even begin to explore what that could mean.

"You're really sure you're okay with this?"

A deep sigh reverberates throughout the room. Clarice leans back on the bed, pressing her hand harder against her face. "Yes," she groans out, agonized. "I'll tell you if I'm not feeling it."

Harvey lets out another heavy breath, though it sounds less burdened. "Alright. In that case then, I'll, uh, I need to..."

"Okay." Clarice says, high pitched, pulling her hand quickly away from the strap-on. It's weird, wearing this thing. She can feel the phantom sensations of where it tilts, now that her hand isn't there to direct it straight.

"Okay," Harvey echoes her, similar down straight to the tone, the almost squeaky way he says it. "I'll... try not to put too much of my weight on you."

"Thanks." Clarice merely whines, wilting into the mattress.

Harvey shuffles over, bed creaking with every new placement of his knees jutting into the bed. There's a moment where the anticipation builds, becomes something tangible and unbearably thick. The tension squeezes against itself, then loosens, like a heartbeat. Like it's a real, pulsing thing.

Harvey places a hand on the bed, around her side, gripping his covers tight as he murmurs apologies. Throws a leg over her waist as his other hand braces near the other side of her, releasing a shaky breath. He keeps himself up on his knees, looking down at himself and grasping at the strap-on feverishly by the base, holding it more in a line. Clarice doesn't know what expression he's making, what expression she's making, all too busy covering her face. Risking glances through the spaces of her fingers. It's all happening simultaneously too fast and tortuously slow.

"Alright," Harvey exhales, adjusting his knees one more time, face wrought with anticipation. "... Alright."

With a steady gaze downwards, Harvey slowly lowers his body down. He jolts as if struck with electricity when the tip presses against his rim, lips parting with a slow breath as he inches down further after a pause. There's a start of a whine in the back of his throat every time the strap-on slides in deeper, but he always staves it off. Always sucks in more air, and keeps going dutifully.

Harvey keeps to his promise and carefully holds himself up even as the strap-on fills him, an occasional shake winding from his face to his legs. Those dance aerobics classes seem to be paying off, in any case.

This seems to be one of the rare circumstances where Harvey is considerate of his boundaries and limits, hips undulating up and down with a careful air. It's a process he treats delicately, gives himself plenty of time to relax in between motions, and Clarice can appreciate that solely because he deserves to be treated gently. Even if she's horrible at doing it, he deserves that much. That sort of growth is something she owes him, one of these days.

That day will come, but today is a different one, a different milestone. Harvey doesn't contest these thoughts of hers, moaning softly once the gentle treatment becomes unnecessary. Unwanted, if the gradually increasing speed of his rhythm could have any thoughts on the matter.

Through the slits of trembling fingers, Clarice watches. Everything is magnified, all the emotions breaking some impossibly high dam despite the odds. There's shifts in Harvey's expression every time he effectively bounces, lips twitching with effort to keep himself quiet. Sweat glistens along his forehead and neck— he shines in the low lamplight that sits glowing only about a foot away.

The heat between her legs is unbearable. Clarice can't remember the last time she had gotten so wet and hadn't tended to herself. Hadn't been able to. It's humiliating, but that emotion is so weak and malleable in the current of pure arousal her body is getting lost in. Her head is foggy, yet her vision is vibrant with clarity, with Harvey.

Harvey, who's working himself down harder with every passing second. Instead of that lost, cloudy look catching in his eyes, he only looks all the more searching. Harvey sits back further on his heels, letting out a moan that sounds frustrated. Unthinkingly, Clarice's eyes glance downward at the dick between his legs. Straining and flushed against his abdomen, with him close enough that she can see the pearl of pre-cum beading at the very tip. It moves with every motion he makes. The bead drips over, trailing over every bump and ridge.

"... What's wrong?" Clarice dares to speak, voice containing a rasp that floors her.

"... I can't," Harvey whines, back arching as he sculpts his hips into a particular rocking motion. "I-I can't, I need—" he chokes, leaning far enough that he has to grind his hips forward and back more than up and down for the strap-on to stay inside.

Then he jolts at a particular thrust he implores, gasping sharply. His brown eyes go wide, glasses jumping with every movement that he makes, suddenly speeding up. "Oh! Oh, please, please—"

His thighs tremble with effort, and suddenly he's sliding right down. Harvey's weight presses right into her as he essentially sits on her lap, making her let out a grunt of surprise rather than one of any meaningful discomfort. He's straddling her completely, and the whimper he lets out is downright pitiful.

Harvey blinks with wet eyes, his eyes searching for hers, face twisted with embarrassment. Need laces it, need seems nestled into every frantic little movement Harvey attempts to make. Only for Harvey's body to slump back down, clearly too exhausted to keep doing all the work. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't— can you—?"

He suffers through the moment for air, face red as a strawberry, thighs still shaking even as he's seated. ".... Help me," he breathes, air whistling through his teeth a little. "Please."

The blood in her body is torn between two places. Clarice feels light-headed, her chest heaving for air she hadn't realized had dissipated. She's sweating before she's even doing anything, before she warily places her spare hand on his hip for support. Harvey groans with relief before she even properly helps him out. "Thank you, thank you." he chants.

He starts to move up again, more uninhibited thanks to the added momentum of Clarice's hand moving with him. Harvey lets out a hoarse cry when Clarice gathers enough courage to start rolling her hips up, meeting in a messy pace where neither is sure who should follow who.

Clarice shudders at the sudden increase in sounds, and more importantly, the volume. Face flaming, her mind wails to reprimand him in some way, to remind him of his neighbors who know him, but more importantly her. It's here where input and output scramble uselessly in the recesses of her brain. "Harvey! You— You need to quiet down." she hisses from her hand, on the cusp of a grand mistake. Her mind aims for swatting at his arm, but seeing as both hands are busy with equally important tasks, an easy pair of dots are connected.

Clarice raises her hand for a brief moment, smacking his ass lightly. Absently.

Harvey downright squeaks with shock, jerking on her lap. "I'm— I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

She could die right that moment, but thankfully, Harvey seems too out of it to make a comment on it. She cowers further into her hand all the same, body as hot as a furnace, eyes watering.

Clarice is just as quick to look through her fingers again, her other hand gripping his hip tightly, heart stopping in her chest when Harvey bites into his palm, muffling yet another cry. His eyes are lidded behind his glasses, breathing unsteady against his palm.

Harvey shakes his head, babbling around his hand as his body starts to tense up. "Clarice. Clarice. Feels good." His voice catches, bed creaking. An embarrassed pride stings her chest, hand clawing into his hip with her nails.

Despite the strain her voice, she forces what she knows he needs out. "You're doing so good, Harvey."

Harvey trembles, eyes squeezing shut, head tipping back. "... Clarice, 'm gonna..." he's nearly incoherent, too weak to keep riding the strap-on even with Clarice's guidance. Her moving hips seem to be enough to suffice, his teeth visibly digging deeper into his skin.

He blinks, once, then twice, then again, each one more rapid than the last. Harvey's body seizes, Clarice can feel it down to his thighs, his head bolting back forward. To her surprise, his other hand goes to cover the one holding his hip, his hips rolling in sporadic little bursts.

Harvey holds her hand to him tightly, dragging in one more ragged breath as the tension crests and drops with an abruptness entirely expected. He wheezes a little, sounding almost pained as his body quakes through the orgasm, cock twitching with little spurts.

All Clarice can do is watch with wide eyes, hiding them behind her hand again when it gets too much. All of this has been too much, really, but the feeling really implodes in the aftermath.

Soon enough, Harvey manages to haul his body to the spot next to her, sluggish and sated when he lets his body collapse. The bed squeaks in protest. Clarice's eyes burn more and more with unshed tears by the second, face hotter than the sun. She is half convinced that when she pulls her hand away, there will be burns staining her fingers and palm.

"Do you..." Harvey suddenly pipes up, lungs still audibly fighting for oxygen. "... want me to return the favor?" he asks, managing to sound as timid as he was breathless. "I mean, I know you didn't... finish." he coughs as quiet as a mouse.

Clarice makes a strangled sound, rolling on the side that turned her back to him. Tears spill out of her eyes, though she can't say any part of her regrets the experience. She's just... overwhelmed, mortified, and irritatingly horny. "No."

"Are you crying?" The bed dips as Harvey's voice pitches higher up in panic. "Oh, I'm so—"

"Harvey, it was hot," she sputters through tears, not giving him the chance to piss her off through his relentless apologies yet again. "Shut up. I'm just overwhelmed."

A hand tentatively reaches for her shoulder, Clarice's body tensing when she feels him stroke her shoulder assuringly. She hates him a little for it, hates it more when she actually relaxes.

It takes a moment of deliberate silence until the feeling soothes in her chest. Wiping away a few tears, she reluctantly rolls onto her other side, facing Harvey. “… Hi.” she says, voice a little muted.

“Hi.” The sentiment is mimicked easily, breathlessly, though he tacks a hesitant smile onto his flushed face. Clarice bursts into a giddy giggle for a reason she can’t quite pin down, giving him a watery smile. Harvey’s smile brightens, looking relieved. Some sexual exploration is healthy in the long run, she supposes, if it feels this freeing at the end.

[malarign]

ur probs insanely busy but I just had an idea based on a TikTok I saw (typical)… basically I think it would make a really good heeseung angst where he thought it would be fun to play around with his partner and make them a little jealous - either cause they were unintentionally being too friendly with someone else or whatever you feel like coming up with - but it just turns out going bad and his partner gets super upset and there’s a lot of comfort. anyway now that I typed it it kinda sounds cringe but go wild if u want

jealousy, jealousy

(when you get jealous of his co-worker)

contains: idolbf!Heeseung x gn!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tw! kissing, mentions of food, the reader is insecure about their looks, please remember, everybody is pretty in their own way | wc: 1,1k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!

author’s note: thank you anon and sorry for the delay, i was in fact pretty busy 😵‍💫 also! no hate to the anon who sent this request but if you want to make your partner jealous intentionally just don’t get into a relationship! 🤭

“Have a lovely day, dear! I’ll let you know when I’m done with work today and maybe we’ll grab some dinner together?” Heeseung said in a rush, putting his shoes on.

“Sure, just don’t overwork yourself m’kay?” You fixed the collar of his coat and smiled.

“Anything for you, baby.” He left a last sweet kiss on your lips and bid his last goodbyes for today.

Closing the door behind him you decided to get to work on your assignments. You sighed seeing the workload you had. A sudden rush of motivation took over your body and mind and got to grips with everything. Closing your laptop you took a look at the clock on the wall in front of you. The day just started and you had plenty of time before Heeseung would come back home, so you decided to pay him a visit at work.

It wouldn’t be the first time you visited him at work, yet you always can’t help but feel anxious at the thought of your presence there among other idols. You were intimidated not only because of their popularity and fame but also because of their stunning looks which often made you jealous. His pretty co-workers didn’t have to do anything, in particular, to make you feel insecure, intimidated, and simply ugly. Despite your concerns you never dared to disclose them to your boyfriend, afraid he would laugh at your worries.

You arrived at his company and went straight to their practice room, but you met with silence and darkness. Confused you wanted to call Heeseung, but then a familiar voice caught your attention.

“Y/n?” You saw Jake at the other end of the hallway. “Heeseung didn’t tell me you’ll come over” He smiled after jogging your way.

“I finished my work earlier today so I thought I would surprise him but can’t find him.”

“Oh! He’s eating lunch right now with the rest of the guys. Come on, join us, they’re serving your favorite,” Jake laughed as he nudged your side jokingly.

You felt your stomach grumble at the thought of their cafeteria’s food and walked with him to the elevator. Before you stepped in, he excused himself as he had some other obligations and left you.

Opening the door to the dining area you were met with the smell of fried rice and chicken. Many people gathered to eat so finding Heeseung bordered on the miraculous. When you finally noticed him you saw he was talking to one of his co-workers, smiling widely and telling jokes as they both ate their lunches. You took a few steps back at the sight, a wave of fear rushed down your spine.

Their smile, their hair, their eyes, their figure. Everything about them screamed perfection, making you embarrassed about how you looked. They’re beautiful, talented in many ways, while you were just an ordinary person, who wouldn’t find their place on stage.

Heeseung raised from his seat after he finished his meal and made his way to the elevators, right where you were. You quickly turned around and pushed a button to close the door as fast as possible. Looking at the mirror you noticed a few teardrops on your cheeks and wiped them off your face.

“I’m back!” Heeseung’s voice echoed in your apartment as you quietly fidgeted with the hem of the blanket you were under. “Jake told me you were at Hybe, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked and made his way to the kitchen and took a bottle of apple juice.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled under your nose and continued playing with the fabric.

“I didn’t hear you, can you repeat?”

“I don’t know, Heeseung,” you repeated yourself louder, sounding a little bit too harsh than you intended to.

Your tone and the way you called him by his name and not one of many nicknames you used made him confused.

“Hey, are you mad?” he asked and sat next to you. “Is it because I didn’t call? I’m so sorry, my love, but I got caught up in so much work I didn’t realize it got so late,” he said and tilted his head as he spoke.

“No, it’s not because you didn’t call.” You looked him in the eyes and that’s when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks.

“Are you crying? Love, what’s happening?” Heeseung cupped your face as he scanned your features. “We agreed not to hide our worries from each other,” he reminded you.

His sweet voice and full of love words made you cry, leaving him even more confused than before. Quietly embracing you in a comforting and warm hug he waited for you to calm down. Instead, he heard your voice, full of distress.

“Why would you love me, when there are so many other people who are way better than me?” You spoke incomprehensibly, but still enough for him to understand what you said.

“Why would you say that? Love, where is that coming from?”

You pulled away from his embrace and wiped your tears to look at him.

“Why would you want to be with me, an ordinary person, who will never understand your struggles as a public person? Why would you want to be with me, who has nothing to offer but coarseness? I’m not as beautiful as your co-workers. I’m not as talented, as charismatic, as interesting as them, so why would you want to settle down with me? When will you realize that they’re perfect and I’m not enough for you?”

Heeseung listened to you attentively, keeping eye contact with you throughout your whole monologue. When you were done he thought for a second to gather his wits and took your hands into his, rubbing your skin with his thumbs.

“Love, why didn’t you tell me earlier you felt that way? Gosh, I don’t care that you’re not a public person. Why would I want you to be one? Y/n, nobody knows and understands me more than you do. What you offer is not coarseness but stability and my safe space. Nobody makes me feel so safe and loved as you do. You don’t have to be an idol to be the most beautiful, talented, charismatic, and interesting person in my eyes. I love you as you are and nothing will change that, okay?”

You lowered your head at his words, feeling embarrassed at your own jealousy.

“My dear, please look at me,” Heeseung spoke and brushed your hair off your face. Looking at him smiling reassuringly made you cry again. You fell into his arms and wrapped yours around his neck, as he left soft kisses on your skin. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you, Hee.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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