#once you start putting the pieces together it's a really ugly picture

[bwabys-scenarios]

Princess(NSFW)

Yandere!Kurapika x Chubby!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: nsfw, breeding, yandere behavior, Kurapika is enamored with you, reader’s body is made fun of(not by Kurapika), violence, death

A/N: the food throwing scene is based on something that happened to me in school LOL

HXH Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter @sweetmiri

He can’t get enough of you, really. From the moment he met you, Kurapika was immediately pulled in by your sweet voice and soft frame.

Everything from your cute chubby cheeks to your pretty plump lips had his heart racing.

Of course, Kurapika wasn’t the type to talk for looks alone. You were more kind and patient than he thought possible, always there for him when he needed support or comfort, and never getting upset when he would leave for unspecified periods of time.

You were always so understanding, so sweet and unapologetically you. A ray of sunshine was the only way he could describe you. Even the cloudiest days couldn’t dull your shine.

To him, you were an angel, his princess. Anything you asked for, he would hand deliver if it meant you would give him that pretty smile of yours.

He just adored you endlessly, nothing made him more happy than being by your side.

Kurapika, however, was unfortunately quite shy. It’s not that he didn’t want to share his feelings with you, he just… was afraid of rejection. So, while on missions or away from you, he would stare at your picture, sighing as he dreamed of a life where the two of you could be together.

It wasn’t long before his little crush started to grow into something more… obsessive. After all, the two of you were close, were you not? When he would announce he was coming to visit, you would drop all other plans so you’d be available for him. That meant something, right?

So today, as he took you shopping, Kurapika decided it was about time to tell you how he really felt.

“How does this look?”

You walked out of the changing room in a tight miniskirt and a sweater, making Kurapika glad he wore his loose fitted tabard today.

You plump tummy and soft thighs made his dick twitch, and he cleared his throat as he crossed his legs, his cheeks red. “Y-you look great, (Name).”

Once you changed, he added the clothes to the steadily growing pile of things he wanted to buy you. Kurapika couldn’t help it, you just looked amazing in everything you put on.

Kurapika paid for your clothes before taking his hand in yours. “How about some ice cream? It’s pretty warm out.”

“Ooo, that sounds really yummy-“

The two paused when they heard someone muffling their laugh nearby. Kurapika eyes narrowed before cutting to the left.

“Pfft! Are you sure she needs ice cream?”

You shrunk into yourself as a group of girls and their boyfriends laughed to themselves. Kurapika hated this, he hated seeing you try to hide yourself due to the rude comments of others. You never had anything bad to say about another person, so why were you the one always being insulted and belittled?

“Come on, there’s no need to listen to the words of those with an ugly heart.”

He attempted to guide you away, only for you to yelp when a piece of food was thrown at you.

“There, fatty. If you’re so hungry, eat that.”

Kurapika stood completely still, his eyes on the stain now on your sweater. It had been a gift from him, a soft pink cashmere sweater that you loved.

“K-Kurapika, let’s just go…”

After being friends with Kurapika for a long time, you knew that the scarlet hue taking over his eyes meant trouble in this context. You tried to fight back the tears of humiliation and hurt to prevent Kurapika from going on a rampage.

“I-I’m okay, we can just wash my sweater later. Let’s go to m-my apartment…”

He let out a shaky breath, glaring daggers at the group before gently squeezing your hand. “Alright, angel. Let’s go.”

You sighed in relief, unaware that the quick glance Kurapika made was enough to pick up on several things to later identify the group of people.

They wore jackets with a local college’s symbol, and a few of them still had their part time job uniforms on. ‘Not only are they scum, they’re stupid too. It won’t take much to destroy their lives, and they handed me their information on a silver platter.’

But he wasn’t focused on that now. Kurapika instead shifted his attention to you. Just like you knew when he was about to snap, he knew when you were about to break.

“(Name)… you don’t have to keep up a brave face. What those people said was rude and uncalled for.”

He brought his hand to your face, gently wiping away the stray tears that fell down your soft chubby cheeks. “I’m sorry, (Name). Today was supposed to be a fun day out. Now it’s ruined…”

“It’s not your fault…” you said softly, leaning into his touch. “I was… getting tired anyways. We can hang out at my apartment for a bit instead, eat some snacks and watch a movie.”

Kurapika smiled, his eyes softening as he gave your cheek a light squeeze. “That sounds lovely. I much prefer time spent alone with you to days out anyways.”

————————

Kurapika was currently trying his best not to get hard as (Name) snuggled up with him on the couch, your head resting on his chest.

It wasn’t easy being in love with (Name) and not knowing if you felt the same. You were so sweet and affectionate, always wanting to be held and cared for, but he wasn’t sure if you wanted this attention from him alone, or if you were just this way with everyone.

“Kurapika, kisses…”

His head felt fuzzy and he could hardly move without the bulge forming in his pants throbbing, but Kurapika leaned down and peppered kisses on your cheeks and forehead. “Are you feeling any better now?”

You smiled, your chubby cheeks warm as you leaned into his snuggles. “Yeah… I feel very warm and happy right now.”

He traced circles into the soft flesh of your belly, nuzzling his face against your neck. “That’s a relief. I never want to see you upset, (Name).”

His warm breath fanned against your neck, his lips grazing your jaw. It made you feel funny, and your squirming didn’t escape his watch.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft… but with a husky edge. Kurapika traced circles into your thigh with the tip of his fingers.

You shivered, and that caught his attention. His eyes lit up before he smirked, gently groping your fat thigh. “Come on, if something’s wrong you should tell me, sweetheart…”

“Mmph… feels weird, Pika… when you get this close I feel all warm and fuzzy…”

He felt something warm spreading through his body, and when he began to subconsciously guide your hips over the bulge in his pants, the two of you both moaned in unison.

Kurapika was quick to slip your skirt up, his hand groping your soft, fleshy ass. Your panties were soaked, he could see the wet spot spreading as his fingers lightly ran over your clothed clit.

Every soft whine and whimper that left your plump lips had his cock twitching, begging for release. He wanted you to know how much he desired you, how badly he needed to be inside your pretty, fat pussy.

Although all he wanted to do was slip your panties to the side and fuck you right there, Kurapika was in love with you. He didn’t want his first time with you to be quick and fueled by lust.

So he scooped you up, much to your chagrin. You whined and complained, but he shut you up with a kiss to your forehead.

“Holding you in my arms is the highest honor. (Name)… I adore you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He laid you down on your bed, pinning your wrists above you head before kissing down your neck. “I want you…”

Your little plea for him made him bite back a groan. He could tell that you were getting restless by the way your hips bucked into his. You… wanted him.

“You already have me…” he murmured, your panties being tugged down with one hand while his lips met yours. “My body, heart, and soul, it all belongs to you. It has since the moment we met.”

The two of you shared a kiss as his tip pressed into you. He held onto your hand, letting you squeeze it as he entered you for the first time.

He was in heaven, nothing had ever given him so much pleasure before. Kurapika bit on his lip, trying not to cum on the spot.

“God, (Name)…”

He pulled back his hips and pushed back in, shuddering I’m ecstasy.

“P-Pika…”

He blinked, the fog of pleasure clearing from his mind. Tears were pouring down your burning cheeks, and he could see a bit of blood dripping from your warm cunt.

He was your first.

“F-fuck, (Name)..!”

Kurapika panicked, instantly leaning forward to check you over. You were sniffling, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“J-just hurts a little… my first time…” you managed to get out through your sniffles.

Soft, sweet kisses were placed all over your face, and he nuzzled your cheek. “I’m so sorry, princess. I…”

You leaned into his kisses, nuzzling him back. “It’s okay… I know you’d never hurt me on purpose…”

The two of you lay there, connected in the most intimate way while you shared kisses and soft words of love. It was enough to make you blush, seeing how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

The pain ebbed away into pleasure, and soon enough you were moving your hips, your eyes growing hazy. “M-mmm… can you..?”

“Y-yeah…”

He was panting too, hips stuttering as he tried his best to hold back for you. If anyone on this planet loved you, it was Kurapika.

The second his cock pulled out and fully sunk into you again, you both let out a breathy moan. It’s like the two of you were in sync.

He buried his face into your neck as his hips rutted into yours, only the sounds of skin agaisnt skin and whines of pleasure could be heard in that dark room.

“I love you… god, I love you so much (Name)…”

The next day, dark hickeys would litter your neck, but tonight it looked so tender and pure… he had to cover it in his marks so everyone would know you were taken.

Each bite, each suck had you crying out, pain mixing with pleasure. His grip on your hips was like iron, keeping you in place so he could pound into your pussy until you saw stars.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Kurapika had always been gentle with you, never in a million would he ever think of hurting you on purpose, but tonight he left unintentional bruises everywhere he touched you.

He just had to have you as close as possible, your bodies pressed against each other so closely that you could feel his heart beat against your breast.

All he could think of was cumming inside of you, the thought of your belly heavy and swollen with his young flooding his mind.

And by the end of the night, he was curled up around you, his finger tracing circles over your belly. Both of you were exhausted, but happy.

“I love you too, Kurapika…” you whispered, resting your head on his chest as you drifted off.

His fingers gently played with your hair as he lost himself in thought. If he wanted you to be happy and safe… he would have to get his hands dirty.

Kurapika never wanted you to be sad again… and he had an idea on how to help.

——————

The sound of something big being dragged across the floor could be heard, along with a wet THWACK!

“P-please! We’re sorry, we d-didn’t know she was important to you! Just let us go!”

Kurapika dragged a man by the hair and threw him against the wall, his form slumping before falling on top of the various other bodies that were piling up.

“Let you go? No… I couldn’t risk that. How do I know you wouldn’t just find another person to take out all of your anger on?”

Kurapika held up a piece of paper, waving it in the man’s face. “Your mother abandoned you when you were just a child, and now you take out your mommy issues on women that look like her.”

The picture revealed a plump woman in her thirties that had the same body type as you.

He tilted his head towards a girl that was tied up, her head still fuzzy from being drugged. “Does your girlfriend over there know you’re a serial killer? You spend your days harassing random women on the street, then bring women that look like your mother home to torture them before they’re slaughtered.”

Kurapika stabbed the man through the leg, causing screams to tear through the cool night air. “You’ve gotten off easy for domestic abuse charges because your father is on the police force… but I’m not sure daddy can save you now.”

He stepped on the man’s face, taking a drag off of a cigarette. You hated him smoking, but right now he needed it. “I was going to just beat the shit out of you until you got the message… but seems like letting you back on the streets is just going to put my princess in danger.”

After putting the cigarette out on the man’s eye and listening to him scream, Kurapika brought down his foot again and again until all that was left was a bloody mush.

By then, the woman had begun waking up, and screamed. “N-no, don’t hurt me!”

The blonde turned, blood splattered across his face. “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He pulled out a gun and shot her, then sighed. “See? An instant death.”

Fire spread across the area, the smell of burning skin and flesh alerting people nearby. Kurapika had already fled the scene, and was washing off at a hotel.

Killing wasn’t something he enjoyed… but if it was for you, he could do it. He never wanted you to be afraid or in danger, and anyone who made you cry was unforgivable.

You were sitting on the couch, watching a movie when he got home. It was late, but thankfully you were still up. After all that killing, he needed the comfort.

“Pika, you’re just in time! I just started this new movie, I heard it’s really good!”

He smiled, plopping down next to you and leaning his head in your shoulder. You smelt so good and your body was warm and inviting, he couldn’t hep but bring you close and bury his face into your neck.

“You know I would do anything for you, right (Name)?”

His scarlet eyes looked up at you, and for a moment… you were strangely uneasy. They seemed almost… crazed.

“W-what do you mean?”

But as quick as you spotted it, his eyes were back to normal. “Nothing, nothing.”

He pulled you into his lap, inhaling your scent. “What’s the movie about?”

You knew Kurapika had violent tendencies… but in your heart, you wanted to believe he was a good man, and would never hurt anyone. He was your lover, your best friend… but god did you worry about him.

As the two of you went to sleep that night, he held you as close as possible, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I would kill for you, you know… and… maybe I already have.”

You weren’t sure why he said that all of a sudden, but he stayed completely calm, as if it was the most normal statement in the world.

“Kurapika… you don’t have to do that… please… don’t.”

You caressed his cheek, looking into his soft brown eyes… and decided to ignore his words.

“Goodnight, love.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he held your face in his hands. “(Name)…”

Before he could say anything else, he sighed and smiled fondly at you. “… goodnight.”

As you slept, a strange possessive feeling crept into his heart, and his grip tightened until you whimpered in his sleep.

He would kill for you, end anyone that tried to hurt you or take you away…

Kurapika kissed the top of your head and promised himself that he’d toss his morals aside if it meant keeping you safe.

Anything for you, his princess.

[n1ghtfurys]

Cream II

Okay so this is the second part to when you met Keegan at a party? A whole one person asked so I'm going to make this a thing. Also don't hate me I'm gonna do another one...probably.

Part I: Cream

You haven't been able to look him in the eye since the party, most of the time when you see him you walk immediately in the opposite direction. One time, when you were with your friend, you audibly squeaked. She still hasn't let you live that one down. His behaviour hasn't changed at all, not that you've been around him enough to tell but still.

Guys normally go for your friend. She likes to pretend otherwise but you've always got people asking about her and yeah, the free drinks are great but they aren't usually directed at you. Not that you mind, peace and quiet is nice and there are so many guys that are so far up their own asses you're shocked they can still see.

Regardless you've been in hiding, you feel like he's everywhere. Obviously he's around because you live in the same building but you find yourself noticing him more, you think he's been trying to talk to you too. Most of the time he doesn't catch you but every so often it looks like he's gonna, luckily that has yet to happen.

Honestly you're shocked he's been here so long, usually he stays at the base and he's deployed a lot, like more often than not. You've been putting off laundry on the off chance that he happens to be down at the same time as you. Only because it would trap you down there with him and you still haven't gotten over the party. The picture of him on his knees in front of you, his mouth open, is one that lives with you. Comes to the front of your mind at night when you're tossing and turning and usually ends in something you aren't really proud of.

You can't put it off anymore though, you're running out of clothes. You spent all day today wandering around in weirdly tight grey sweats and a frankly, very ugly top with a red dragon on, that you had stolen from an ex. It's a truly interesting look, one that has left you comfortable and uncomfortable. The sweats cling to you in so many places and none of them are great, you don't really like how they sit on your hips or how they somehow flatten your ass but the top is on the bigger side so mostly hides that.

You decide to bite the bullet, another mismatched outfit of ill fitting clothes and pieces stolen from various ex’s is not really how you want your week to look. And you can be quick, in and out. No chances of an awkward encounter that just ends with you retreating to the safety of your room, probably never to leave again.

You have never liked the laundry room. The landlord hasn't bothered painting the walls so there is only water stained concrete and cobwebs for decoration, if you're honest it's dingy and always smells dusty despite the detergent people use on their clothes. It's also always warm down here, you hate that, It's like being wrapped in a warm, damp blanket. The dryers sometimes eat your socks too and at least half of the machines are out of order.

It's not like your building is particularly bad, sure some of the halls have cracked paint and one of the doors into the building is held together with duct tape but it's really not a bad building.

It's empty when you get down though, much to your delight because you don't have to deal with any polite small talk about weather or neighbourhood changes. As much as you like the older citizens in your building they can be quite boring to talk to. Plus it gives you some time to read, the book is truly subpar but it's entertaining and music makes it slightly more bearable. So once you've put the clothes on you perch on one of the machines that don't work and hope nobody else comes in.

Of course your luck is never that good and the door opens pretty much as soon as you settle on the cool metal of the dryer. You don't look up, mostly because if you pretend you haven't noticed them, they can't start a conversation but also if you look up and he's standing there you're going to curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment.

Your plan works perfectly until the mystery person pipes up.

“What you reading?” You know the voice without having to look up, of all the people. It had to be him, you know your luck isn't amazing but you didn't think it was that bad.

This would be your que to curl up and die, only you can't ignore him. It's rude and you don't hate him so you make the decision to look up from your book. You, however, immediately regret your decision to do that because why does he look like that? Part of you wishes he could be on his knees in front of you again but that part of you is clearly unstable and is to be ignored at all costs.

You paint a polite smile over your face, in hopes he can't figure out how many times you've come with his name on your lips. You lift up the book to show him, he doesn't really strike you as the reading type so you have no problem showing him and if you show him the cover he might not ask questions. He nods, you think for a moment he's going to ask what it's about but he doesn't. He actually doesn't say anything else, he just goes about his laundry.

You're not entirely sure how you feel about the fact that he didn't continue the conversation, technically you have no reason for it to bother you. Especially since you didn't want to talk anyway but something about the fact he says nothing annoys you.

You can't help but watch him, hunched over the machine. The black t-shirt he's wearing has no right being that tight, you can see the muscles in his back whenever he moves and you know all he's doing is loading clothes into a washing machine but god his arms.

He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up, you meet his eyes before you avert them quickly back to your book because that was mortifying. Seriously it's just a guy in a black t-shirt and you're basically drooling over him, god you're better than this. You swear you hear him chuckle which serves to both annoy and embarrass you.

The chime of your cycle being over literally cannot come fast enough. You have never unloaded one of those machines faster, you grab what you think is all of your shit and basically run up the stairs because anything is better than being in a room with him in his stupid sexy t-shirt with his dumb muscles and deep voice.

You retreat to the familiar safety of your room for the rest of the day, stress reading your book to get past the awfulness of that encounter.

That is until you hear the front door open, obviously since you have a roommate you think nothing of it until you hear said roommate call you to the door, because today couldn't get any worse. You go to the door, expecting a delivery or a salesman she needs you to get rid of but obviously you're not that lucky because the universe must hate you.

Standing at the door is, of course, Keegan because who else would be at your door? What could he possibly want? He doesn't seem like the type of guy to make fun of people, let alone seek someone out to do so.

You make your way to the door, which is arguably the last place you want to be right now. As you pass your friend she punches you like this is a good thing because you may or may not have told her what happened at the party and she's very, very set on getting you laid. That's not what's going to happen though.

You stand in the doorway and watch as his eyes drift slowly down your body, when he meets your eyes again you can tell that he's smirking, not that you can see his mouth but you know.

“You left everything but your glass slippers, princess.” He holds out the detergents you had taken down there with you.

“Oh” really, you know that you should use more words than that, because you do know more words than that or you think you do. Right now it doesn't matter because you're trying to will your brain to pick between saying thanks and sorry.

“Sonks” clearly you are not stronger willed than your brain. You take the bottles from his, still, outstretched hands while hoping that a you-sized sinkhole would appear beneath you.

“Thanks, and sorry for making you come all the way up here. Bye.” he barely has a chance to answer before you're shutting the door.

You put the detergent on the kitchen counter and then proceed to put your head there too because what the fuck was that? A one way ticket to forever being the one girl that can't even talk. You then start to realise how rude it was to slam the door essentially on his face when he was being nice and then you feel even worse about everything.

Not much you can do about it now anyway so you put the detergents away because this day couldn't get any worse. If you weren't hiding in your room before, you are now. Forever. Unless you're called out by your friend or need to cook so that she doesn't burn down the apartment. You like your room anyway, so big deal, and you can probably get enough sunlight from the windows not to get a vitamin D deficiency and if not there's always supplements.

“Honey!” your best friend and roommate has taken to calling you that, usually when she gets home from work but it's kinda just stuck. “Whose number is on the fabric softener?”

Before you really have time to move, she's bursting into your room, as she does.

“Bet it's his.” she has also already taken your phone which you now regret giving her the password to. Luckily your brain catches up before she sends a message that starts with ‘hey sexy’

You forget for a moment that the world hates you and everything sucks because you in fact don't delete the message, instead you manage to press send, like an idiot but it's fine. Maybe he doesn't use his phone at all, or maybe it fell out of his pocket down a flight of stairs or maybe he broke his neck.

Clearly not because he reads it before you have the good sense to delete it. Clearly, all that can be learnt from today is that luck doesn't exist and everything sucks and you're never gonna end up in bed with this man, ever.

[spheciform]

Sad she only got one album out before everything went to shit, but what's a girl to do?

This is a fake album cover for my dnd character, Helvia, and her fake band THREAT DISPLAY!!! Context for this piece and Helvia as a whole under the cut because once I start I can't stop talking about her <3

SO the campaign hasn't started yet, but Helvia is my character for a science fiction campaign. She's robot!!! Well I guess that's obvious now. BUT the basic gist: Helvia was manufactured as an industry-controlled and maintained electronic "punk" singer. When the project ended up making no money, everything related to it (including her), was abandoned. Three years later, she wakes up out of stasis with no clue what happened, an insane debt, and a failing memory. You will look at her !! Her full name is Helvia Cardinalis. This is just a genus of mantis it doesn't have any special meaning I just like bugs <3

-she has generated "background" memories of an entire life, but there's no telling which of those are real. I don't actually know which of them are real. My dm does!!! We'll be finding out together!!

-sometimes she uh. Doesn't know basic information. Whenever something she should reasonably know gets brought up I get to roll a flat d20 to do a "memory check", the checks getting harder the older the memory is. When she fails, she gets to lie or change the topic etc because she would rather DIE than admit anything is wrong with her.

-the album cover is kind of an intentionally really poor introduction of her character. She's more silly than anything? The entire project was meticulously micromanaged by the company that made her. The "novelty" and aesthetic of having a construct as their lead took forefront in its advertisement. There were two other members of THREAT DISPLAY!!! But she has no memory of them because they were considered comparatively SO unimportant to advertising and to her that they have gone... forgotten.

-Helvia herself is. A real character alright!!! Based entirely in what a corporation thinks a "cool alternative girl" is, she's impulsive, selfish, and just. So fucking stupid. She's firmly a "might makes right" type of person who was designed to appear counterculture but still ultimately serve and be fine with the status quo as long as it benefits her. She's going to do anything that grants her immediate satisfaction, and is obsessed with maintaining her image as "cool and above it all", even as her body is actively breaking down. She easily falls for flattery.

Notes about the piece: yeah I downloaded and used splatoon fonts for the nonsense text. I think I typed gay sex like twice I'll be real none of it translates to relevant information. I think there's something in there about how I hope it came across as an adequate parody of machine girl album covers (my main inspiration). The composition of the piece itself is meant to feel kind of skeevy and exploitative because well. It is!! It's drawing the fine line between 'wow this is so cool and counterculture of us wow!!!' and fetishistic? Etc etc missing the chestpiece as an analog for putting a woman topless on the cover. There's actually a separate sketch I did as a canonical "mock up" for the design that originally included the other members, treating them like props because they're so unimportant, before they were scrapped from the final design because they were That Unimportant.

Notes on Helvia's design: I pulled from a few sources for this!! Notably I looked at so many pictures of that band Tramp Stamps. Remember Tramp Stamps? I don't. They're like the direct analog I think to her. I also pulled from vocaloid designs!! Impractical, cool, kind of "anime" feel. This comes across most in her hair I think which is just so beautifully impractical. The yellow gloves are so stupid important to me actually they're kind of ugly but it's the only way her name ended up being important: helvia cardinalis (mantis) is Bright Yellow and raises its 'arms' in its threat display, which I wanted to pull from for potential posing of her!! So. Bright stupid yellow gloves <3 they're an easy way to tell her character apart too & mean I don't have to worry about drawing all the nonsense on her arms. The translucent skirt also comes from the mantis, sort of pulled from its wings!! Original concepts for her included synthetic skin rotting away but her design was already more complicated than I normally go for and we ultimately ended up realizing her being openly and visibly a construct was important for her image in her music career so it worked out well! She is at least missing an eyeball :] doesn't affect vision since the mechanics are still in place but I guess she just gets that fun sans glow socket <3 her outfit is meant to look simultaneously cool, vaguely expensive, but also super super cheap?? Overall I'm happy with the fact that she looks both cool and really stupidly impractical in that classic 2000s deviantart oc way <3 it's important to me! Ultimately:

[saiikavon]

(Wanting to post things again but AO3 feels like too big and open a space atm. Tumblr’s a safe cozy space for right now. Sometimes I don’t know how my own mind works.

Anyway. Service dog au is making me feel soft.)

Seto had never put much stock in romantic fantasies, but he was not unfamiliar with the cliches. Grand gestures after long bouts of silence, windswept moments of passion, things of that nature. And that oft-mentioned spark that came when the heart least expected it. Breath catching. Heart pounding.

I knew in that moment that they were the one for me.

Laughable. Ridiculous. Frivolous nonsense.

It was happening to Seto right now.

It struck in the midst of a smile, a near-careless touch, stopped halfway to soft, twitching ears. Jounouchi curled up tighter under his blanket, the chair that Seto had gifted him for his first birthday at the mansion rocking steadily as he shifts. Seto withdrew his hand, curling it into a fist at his side.

Oh.

He supposed that self-reflection and hindsight would tell him where it started. Lay out all the little puzzle pieces of his heart until the picture became clear.

But in the moment, it was an all-at-once feeling. Breath catching. Heart pounding.

Everyone that spoke of it had always made it seem so…euphoric. Sunshine and clear skies after ages of rain. He didn’t realize how much it could hurt. How the breath stolen from his lungs seemed it would never return, how his heart’s frantic beating seemed to fight the pressure trying to crush it into a pulp.

Jounouchi slept on, unaware of just what he had inflicted upon Seto.

It will have to stay that way, Seto thought. Because he couldn’t have the hybrid, not in this uncertain and ugly world that they lived in. Not when Seto’s love could hurt far more than just an ache in the chest.

But god, did it ache.

Seto’s fist fell loose. He reached out once more to touch, just a gentle nudge of the hybrid’s shoulder to rouse him. Amber eyes slowly opened and blinked up at him, then squinted shut as Jounouchi yawned. He stretched out, regarding Seto with a sleepy pout.

"Mm…time s'it?"

"Late. You should head up to bed instead of sleeping here."

Jounouchi yawned again and tucked himself more snugly under his blanket. "Don't wanna. Plenty comfy here."

Seto sighed, but even that sound left him in waves of affection. "We have an early day at the office tomorrow. I don't want you working with a stiff neck."

Jounouchi whined, then reluctantly stretched out, flopping briefly over the arm of his chair before getting up. "Fine, fine…m'goin'…"

Seto didn't realize he was frozen in place until Jounouchi, halfway to the stairs, turned a clear gaze to him, brows knotted together in concern.

"Hey, you should get to bed too, then. Don't wanna fall asleep at your desk."

Seto nodded. "Yes, you're right. I'll be up in a moment."

Unexpectedly, Jounouchi paused, ears perked. His tail made a nervous twitch. "You okay? Your pulse sounds a little high…"

Seto internally cursed. Of course Jounouchi would notice. It was literally his job.

He'd promised never to lie to Jounouchi about his feelings again, so instead, Seto asked, "Would you like me to brush you before you go to sleep?"

Jounouchi blinked, startled, but his tail started wagging in genuine delight. "Uh…wow, yeah, that sounds nice. You really want to?"

"It may help me resolve some of my restless energy," Seto replied, the only explanation he could give for his current…symptoms. And not at all untrue. He could certainly be soothed by letting his fingers run through all that soft, silky fur…

Jounouchi's expression lit up, and his tail continued to wag. "Okay. Yeah. Sounds good. You coming up now, then?"

"Yes." Seto felt his feet unglue themselves from the floor, and without further hesitation, he followed Jounouchi up the stairs. Their eyes locked for a moment. Love further bloomed in Seto's chest, like a day glory under Jounouchi's bright gaze.

He imagined it would do so again, and again, and again, for the rest of his life.

[darkcottoncandy]

Somedays it's hard to love yourself, you don't even like who you are. You think about how ugly you looked in that picture, how you said something really stupid to that one friend. You think about all the wrongs you have done to people, decisions that ripped you apart into so many pieces that you were never able to put it back all together like before. You think about that one thing that could have been different if you did it a little better. You think about that one person who could have stayed if you tried a little harder. You think about your flaws, scars, weaknesses, insecurities, literally every worst part of yourself. Every piece that you despise and just want to make it go away or somehow want to undo it. But it's alright to feel like this, we all do. It's important to acknowledge these emotions and think about them to bring you closer to yourself. Afterall these feelings are also a part of your soul, your life. But what is not right is to drown yourself in these thoughts and never be able to make peace with them.

So when you think about how ugly you looked think about all the times you have been the most beautiful both inside out. When you think about the wrong decisions, think about the right ones that changed your life forever. When you think about how harsh you have been to that one person, think about all the times you were so kind without expecting anything in return. When you think about the scars think about the struggles you got them through and fought like hell. And when you think about your flaws think about the perfections you have. Once you understand how everything is just about perspective, you change your own life. 

You cannot change what you did in the past, your wrongs, your decisions, your harshness but what you can do is own them like you own your right doings, decisions, kindness and strive to be better than before. Start loving yourself for what you were and what you have become. Love yourself for all the times you made mistakes and regretted every second after it. Love yourself for that every moment when you were harsh on yourself and doubted your capabilities, your purpose and your entire existence. And at last love yourself for all the times you thought you won't be able to make it but still did. 💞

[duskwoodgirl4life]

⚠️⚠️Trigger warning this chapter contains sexual content, no consensual sex and violence and rape. if you do not feel comfortable read this chapter please do not read it. ⚠️⚠️

Chapter 2

As the weeks went on Jake and MC were gathering more and more evidence against Richy. They had managed to track him to the dare house where he was keeping two victims in the house. They had managed to follow him one night to see where he was going and what he was doing. They saw him drag two women into the house. They didn't know what was to come next as it meant trying to get into the house. They couldn't risk Richy seeing them so they decided to head back home and come up with a way to finally stop him.

Once they got home they got to work laying out everything they had and started to piece it all together. "There is so much here Jake we are gonna get him Incan feel it" Jake could see the big smile on MCs face. "We sure have MC all thanks to your brilliant mind" MC smiled and kissed Jake softly on the lips. After a few moments they got back to work after what seemed like days they had finally pieced everything together.

From the evidence that they had a pattern that started to emerge Richy had been showing a pattern. He picked certain nights to go out and target semi drunk women walking back from a night out partying. Richy would go into the bar in some form of disguise, get talking to his target and once he knew she was drunk enough he would spike her drink and watch everything unfold.

Richys POV

That's right my love you drink that down and we can go back to my place and I can show you what fun really is. I sit watching my next victim. She's a blonde with big tits and a really good looking body her laugh is so fucking annoying. Everytime she laughs I just want to stab her through the chest and see how much she laughs then. I have been sitting here listening to her drone on about her bullshit life that I have no interest in. I think now is the time to step up the plan while she is not looking. I slip something into her drink that will make her shut her stupid ugly mouth in minutes. That gives me enough time to get her out of the dead end bar and back to the dare house.

Everything is going according to plan. I've dumped her in the back seat of my car. She's not going to wake up any time soon. Once I arrive at the dare house I turn the engine off and step out of the car. I open the back door and her legs have fallen open. The twitch inside my pants is growing. I can't resist the urge any longer I unzip my pants and pull out my hard cock. I move my hand up and down a few times and a grown leaves my mouth. I get into the car and pull her legs further apart. The tip of my hard cock poking at her cunt. I push inside her and fuck like I've never fucked before I grab hold of her tits and start to play with her hard nipples. I can feel myself wanting to cum so I start to bang deeper inside her and with a few final pushes my cock explodes inside her and fill her up with my thick white cum.

I pull my cock out of her cunt and put my cock back into my pants. I drag her still lifeless body out of the car and drag her into the house. I drag her down into the basement and tie her up with rope. I leave her to come round and head back up the stairs. I pour myself a whiskey and sit down on the only good chair in the house. As I sit my whiskey I pull out my list of names I cross off my latest victim's name. As I skim down the list I see my real target, the one I've been working towards for so long now. MC you will be mine my love we're meant to be together soon my love soon.

I pour myself another glass of whiskey. I look at a picture of MC that I took from afar without her knowledge. I feel my cock starting to harden again, unzipping my pants I pull out my hard cock and start to move my hand up and down. Moans start to escape my mouth as I jerk my cock as I look at the picture of MC I start to picture her hand on my cock her tongue licking my balls. I can't take much more as I cum all over the floor, my thick cum dripping out of my cock. I put my cock away grabbing the whiskey and headed down to the basement. I see my pet is starting to wake up. I stand over her kicking her with my boot. She opens her eyes and looks right at me. I love to see the fear in their eyes. I bend down and pull her head back slightly and give her some of the whiskey.

"Fighting will only make this worse for you but more fun for me" she tries to back off into the corner but has no luck. "W-what do you want from me? Please let me go" I see the tears starting to roll down her face but it only makes me smile. "I've already had my fun with you when I knocked you out, your cunt was very wet' her crying starts to get louder as she realises what's happened. To make her shut up I force some more whiskey down her with something in it to knock her the fuck out.

I went back up the stairs to get away from her. If I keep looking at her I'll kill her before I even get to have any more fun with her. After a while I go back down to see if she's awake yet. I decide to take the rope off her and drag her over to a chair and tie her hands back up so she can't escape.

MC and Jake arrive at the bar Richy was in and they rush in frantically searching for any sign that Richy was still there. "Jake he's not here we've missed him" Jake grabs hd of MCs hand "come on I know where he's taken her" they both rush out heading towards the car Jake drives off quickly towards the dare house. "Jake what's happening? Why have we stopped?" Jake bangs his hands against the steering wheel and gets out of the car. "The engine has overheated again, it needs to cool down before we can go anywhere" MC gets out of the car and walks over to Jake. "How long is that going to take Jake" Jake works out how long it's going to take before they can get moving again. "It's going to take at least 20 minutes"

[iturbide]

One of the things that upsets me about 3h’s writing is the existence of Edelgard’s siblings is actually dubious. She said she only became heir because all her other siblings were dead or insane. She wasn’t the heir or the spare yet no one else talks about her siblings. When an heir disappears, people talk. And it’s not like all the kids were the same age, there would’ve been several pregnancies. The only proof the kids exist is because Edelgard said it and she’s not above lying to others.

Okay, I have seen that theory before, and for as much as I take issue with Edelgard, I personally think that theory is complete bullshit.

[[MORE]]

Edelgard is a woman of remarkable composure.  Even before the timeskip, she is very cool, very guarded, showing minimal emotion (most of which seems to be for show, providing the expected response for the benefit of those around her).  There are only a handful of occasions where we see her slip, see her truly and deeply shaken -- and one of those times is associated with her speaking about her family.  I’m not going to deny that Edelgard is a very capable liar, but she was very obviously disturbed by the dream that brought on the conversation, and I don’t think even she could cobble together a lie that fast under those circumstances.

Also, let’s talk for a moment about just how Edelgard lies.  Her lies are primarily comprised of minor changes to information (”The Church used forbidden magic to destroy Arianrhod” only replaces the perpetrator, not the details), denials of knowledge (she says she has no knowledge of where Flayn is when she does), or omission of information (not telling Byleth that she’s the Flame Emperor despite having several opportunities to do so).  She’s not stupid: lies fabricated whole-cloth require careful construction, often require the same amount of repetition and practice a trained actor would require for a stage role, and in general are really hard to maintain.  Tailoring a lie from truth is much easier and caries significantly less risk.  Under the circumstances, I don’t think Edelgard could have concocted such a lie, and especially not such a powerful one.

It’s also worth mentioning that Lysithea describes an almost identical series of events taking place in Ordelia territory after House Hrym’s revolt:

Eighteen years ago, House Ordelia was involved in a civil conflict within the Empire. All we did was respond to a call for aid. We weren't involved politically. But once the rebellion was crushed, my family was held responsible for the aid we gave, and the Empire gained some sway over us as a result. At the time, the noble houses of the Alliance took a passive stance. No one lent aid to my family. As a result, some key officials within the family were killed, and people from the Empire were sent to replace them. Among those people were some mysterious mages. They were...unsettling, in a word. Skin pale as death. One after another, they captured and imprisoned the children of our household. They began performing terrible rituals on the children... Though it's probably more accurate to call them experiments.

With the Empire monitoring our every move, my parents could do nothing but watch in horror as all of this unfolded. One after another, the children died, until the only one left...was me. You know, my hair wasn't always this color. During their experiments, they'd been doing things with my blood. One morning, I awoke like this — a shock of white hair, all trace of pigment, gone.  Upon seeing me, the mages were delighted. They realized that their experiments had finally succeeded. Sure enough, they ran a test and saw that two Crests coexisted within me. Losing pigment from my hair wasn't the only loss. The mages informed me that my lifespan was now greatly shortened. Five more years at most. Perhaps less.

Shortly thereafter, the mages lost interest in me, and we never saw them in the Ordelia household again.

This is pretty much exactly what happened to Edelgard: young members of the household taken captive and experimented on by a mysterious group of masked mages, no aid from outside, parents forced to bear witness as their children died en masse.  Nobody calls bullshit on Lysithea’s story -- so why are people trying to call Edelgard a liar?  Lysithea and Edelgard’s B support doesn’t unlock until after Byleth makes the choice to side with Edelgard, and their C support makes no mention at all of the experiments, so Edelgard couldn’t have learned it from Lysithea and used it for herself.  The experiments on House Ordelia were the precursor to the experiments in Adrestia, and their loss of interest very likely ties in with them moving on to bigger things -- namely the Imperial lineage and their attempts to imbue the Crest of Flames within a Hresvelg heir.

And this ties into the next point: why nobody talks about it.  And that boils down to propaganda.

Propaganda relies very heavily on control of information.  And empires in general have an ongoing propaganda campaign related to their ruling families: that these are immensely powerful people blessed by gods, goddesses, saints, what have you, and ruling by divine right.  This is especially true in the Empire, where their imperial lineage traces its roots back to Wilhelm von Hresvelg, who forged a pact with Seiros.  Now, in the Empire, an absolute premium is placed on the presence of a Crest -- to the detriment of all else, including human life.  Hanneman’s sister lost her life and Mercedes’ family was ripped apart all because of the extreme Crest bias present in the Imperial territories.  But with Ionius, there was an even bigger issue: his ‘Divine Right to Rule’ is intrinsically linked to the Crest of Seiros, the physical proof of his bloodline’s pact with the Saint. 

And that bloodline is fading fast.

In Edelgard’s B+ support with Byleth, she says this:

My siblings and I were...we were imprisoned underground, beneath the palace.  The objective was to endow our bodies with the power of a Major Crest.  I have always possessed the Crest of Seiros, inherited through the Hresvelg bloodline.  But it was only a Minor Crest, and most of my siblings bore no Crest at all.  In order to create a peerless emperor to rule Fódlan, they violated our bodies by cutting open our very flesh.  Now here I stand, the fruit of that endeavor: Edelgard von Hresvelg! But that came at too high a price...the others were sacrificed.  Ours weren’t the only lives devastated by that terrible process.  Innocents died as well, without even knowing what they were dying for.  And there you have it, the truth of the Hresvelg’s Empire. 

Out of eleven children Ionius IX sired, only a few bore any kind of Crest (and we don’t know if they were even the Crest of Seiros).  The fact that Edelgard’s Crest was a Minor one rather than a Major one also seems to have been a point of contention.  Which makes sense: in a territory that relies so heavily on Crests as signs of legitimacy, having a Crest appear so infrequently in the Emperor’s progeny would be a frankly alarming sign of weakness.  So I would not be at all surprised if Ionius had been carefully controlling the information moving from the Imperial household to the wider Empire...such that they didn’t know how many kids he really had. 

Unlike the Kingdom, where Lambert only had one wife at any given time and whose pregnancies would therefore be talk of the Kingdom since she’s a public figure, the Empire allows (and perhaps even encourages) the use of consorts.  And immediately after being crowned, Ionius started seeking out suitable ones -- but their identities were not required to be public knowledge.  Sure, the wider Imperial household would have been aware, and it’s likely that the heads of some major noble houses with a presence in the palace knew, as well -- though even they may have been tight-lipped about it with their families to control the spread of information (and this has in-game precedence, given that Ferdinand von Aegir has no idea what happened with Hrym or why people hate his dad so much).  But the only Empire-wide announcements came with the birth of children who actually possessed Crests.  And even then, it’s entirely likely that Edelgard’s place in the line of succession might have been superseded had one of her younger siblings borne a Major Crest of Seiros.

(If this seems far-fetched, I think Alexei Romanov makes a striking point of comparison here: the youngest child and only son of the Romanov Dynasty, he was set to become the next Tsar of Russia -- because his hemophilia was a closely guarded state secret.  It might be common knowledge now, but the Russian public had no idea what was really wrong with him.)

Now, we don’t know a lot of details for this particular time period.  We know Edelgard had ten siblings, but we don’t know if Ionius kept trying to sire heirs and had no success (issues with impotency, miscarriages, etc) or stopped trying and took a different tack.  What we do know is that he instigated a series of reforms meant to concentrate the Emperor’s power.  We don’t know why he did it, but it’s entirely possible that he was trying to look out for his kids and pave the way for more radical reforms that would do away with the Crest bias as a form of choosing ‘legitimate’ heirs to the throne.  But whatever his plan might have been, it backfired terribly on him and led to the Insurrection of the Seven, where the Emperor was stripped of all power and his kids were subjected to Twisted experiments, likely initiated when they replaced Lord Arundel and had him float the idea to Duke Aegir -- and once again, that control of information even within families is out in force, because the nobles now controlling the empire probably don’t want it to be common knowledge that they’re committing atrocities for the sake of making a perfect figurehead.

In the end, every one of Edelgard’s siblings died.  And because the people of the Empire didn’t know about them?  She can’t even mourn them publicly.  The Empire has no inkling of the great tragedy that occurred within House Hresvelg, and that only further fuels the lone survivor’s desire to make sure that nothing like this can ever happen again.

[flightfoot]

Everything’s Not Fine

AO3

He stared at the capsule, frozen. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

His arms shaking, he reached out to touch it, to touch- to touch his mother.

“I should’ve known you’d find a way down here.”

Adrien jumped, turning around hastily. “F-fath-”

“Don’t attempt to trick me, Felix,” Gabriel told him contemptuously. “Adrien’s out of the city by now, with Nathalie. You haven’t even bothered changing clothes. I am not deceived as easily as I once was. I know my own son.”

No, you don’t, you never have… and apparently, I never knew you either. “We swapped so he could tell you-” he shook his head. “That’s not important right now. Why’s mother down here? What- what is this?”

“Still committing to the bit?” Gabriel snorted. “Really now, I thought you were smarter than that. Adrien was compelled to obey the order Nathalie gave via his amok - you would not have been.”

“My WHAT?!” his heart seized up, then started pounding, faster and faster, until he thought he would pass out.

“I may not have your amok,” his father said, staring at him coldly, as if he meant nothing to him. “But I still have power beyond what you’ll ever possess. You should have known better than to cross me, Felix. But don’t worry. Your mother will never know what happened down here - she’ll just think that her poor son got into some terrible accident that caused him to lose all his memories. I’m sure that once she gets over the shock, she’ll like your replacement more anyways - a quieter, more obedient son, like my own.”

No- Father couldn’t be saying- accident- replacement?!

Pieces of Father’s words swirled around, beginning to settle into a horrifying picture. 

“Nooroo, Duusu, Dual Metamorphosis!”

Adrien scrambled backwards as his father transformed into an even more menacing figure - Shadowmoth.

“You should’ve taken the fake Miraculous and gone home, Felix,” Shadowmoth said, reaching out a hand. 

Adrien’s chest constricted. It felt like someone had put a phantom hand around his soul, squeezing it tighter and tighter. He fell to his knees, not having the strength to stand.

This- this must’ve been what Sentibug had felt, those months ago, when Mayura murdered her. Just like Father’s about to…

He grimaced up at the man as his fingers moved closer together, preparing to snap.

“No…” Adrien gritted out. He wasn’t going to die. Not like this. Not to his father. Not under his control. “Plagg, Claws Out!”

He had no idea whether it’d work. It was more of a desperation attempt than anything else. But as Plagg’s magic surrounded him, the tug faded into a whisper of what it was, before cutting off completely.

“WHAT?!” Shadowmoth gasped. 

Adrien wasn’t going to stick around for him to get over his shock. Plagg may have been protecting him, but even the suit was only going to do so much once Fa- Shadowmoth, got over his shock and started going after him.

Placing his staff against the ground, he accelerated towards the cavern roof. “CATACLYSM!”

A fifty-foot diameter circle of land ceased to exist as he vaporized it. Distantly, he wondered how the city was going to react to a giant sinkhole opening up in the wealthiest part of town.

With another pole vault, he sailed over the city, running and leaping on autopilot, trying to get the HELL away from everything he’d just seen and heard. He didn’t realize where he was until Marinette stared back at him from her balcony. “Chat Noir, what’re you-?!”

He collapsed into her arms, ugly sobbing, unable to hold it in anymore. She hugged him tightly, not understanding what was going on, but knowing he needed comfort, to know someone was there for him.

After a moment, his ring beeped its final warning. 

“Chat, you need to hide,” Marinette murmured. She didn’t loosen her embrace. 

“There’s no point,” he said dismally. “Shadowmoth already knows.”

That DID get her to let go, flailing wildly as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “How?!”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as his transformation released, sending Plagg spiraling out of the ring. “Marinette, I-”

“FELIX?!” 

He blinked, glancing down at his suit.

Oh right. He was still dressed as his cousin. 

Well this was awkward.

He scratched the back of his neck. “My cousin and I switched places, he was going to talk to Father for me about- about the trip. Since I couldn’t.” His throat closed up. Gabriel had mentioned an amok - ADRIEN’S amok. And with the feeling he’d had of his soul being squeezed…

When his cousin had said that he could disobey Gabriel while Adrien couldn’t, he’d meant it literally.

“Then- on the train with Nathalie- that was Felix?!”

Adrien frowned. “I told him to abort,” he muttered. 

He glanced up at Marinette. She was weirdly slack-jawed, staring off into space. “Marinette?” He asked cautiously.

She shook herself. “It’s nothing!” she said. Her voice sounded a half-octave higher than usual. “What’s going on with you is more important, let’s talk about that instead!”

He frowned, but let it go. “Gabriel is Shadowmoth, he just tried to murder me while under the impression I was my cousin, and he’s been exerting control over me for- for I don’t know how long, because my cousin and I are both sentimonsters.” Saying it out loud, he almost had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. It didn’t feel real.

“You- how- huh?!” Marinette blurted out. That pushed it over the line. He started to laugh, at first because of Marinette’s reaction, and then because he just couldn’t stop. Sobs infiltrated, until he wasn’t sure whether he was laughing or crying.

“It’s okay,” he heard Marinette say distantly, “We’ll work things out. You’ll be fine. Everything’s fine!”

He didn’t think she believed it, anymore than he did.

[moonctzeny]

Promotion

This is technically a part 2 of my fic Work for it but it can be enjoyed on its own!

pairing: supervisor !johnny x intern ! female reader x assistant !haechan

genre: smutty goodness (this will send me to hell vip)

word count: almost 14k

summary: “After you fuck the Sales’ department supervisor, Johnny Suh in your office during an overtime, you’re left to deal with the unavoidable lingering emotions that come with getting his dick on the regular. At the same time, his assistant and your best work buddy, Donghyuck, who initially helped you with getting with his boss, realises his growing crush on you that is too big to be ignored at this point. With their masterful skills in seduction, you’ve ended up tangled in a sexual game with the both of them, all the while trying to move up from an intern to a permanent worker in the company”

warnings: threesome w/ two doms, alcohol consumption, mention of food (meat, lettuce, eggs), oral, overstimulation, thigh job, at some point- reader borrows a shirt from haechan and it’s mentioned that it’s ‘too big on the shoulders’, thigh riding, office sex, pussy slapping, choking, fingering, sir kink thrown in there at some point, a little degradation bc this is my fic we’re talking about

a/n: omg it’s finally done! I really love this so I hope you guys like it as well :)

taglist:  @rainodanna​, @markresonates​, @unknown5tar​, @yoongsicles​

For every other worker in the office, virtually nothing had changed. 

They relive the same mundane routine, Monday after Monday, the same excruciating 8 hours and short cigarette breaks. The same trees, stuck in their ceramic imprisonment would greet them in the company’s entrance. Rigid and dusty and reeking of cheap plastic. It’s not like they’d come alive, open their little mouths on their thylakoid membranes and tell everyone you fucked mr. Suh, the Sales Department’s supervisor, in your office during your overtime. No, that’s not possible, you reminded yourself when you pass by them every morning, giving them a side eye for good measure, as if that would scare them off their zombie state.

And you were the same too, completing your tasks and meeting your deadlines. Blending in with the rest of the company’s human resource, with the exception of the occasional double take of some tactless male worker here and there.

Donghyuck, however, said supervisor’s assistant and your best friend, wasn’t your typical office worker. He noticed the extra layer of cherry lip gloss coating your lips. He noticed your new perfume, sweeter than the one you used to wear. He noticed the knowing smiles between you and his boss, the heat of your body when you were around him. And it wasn’t just because he was sharp overall.

He was the one who practically got you together, planted the seed in Johnny’s head about the cute new intern of the Financial Department. He was the one who convinced him to finally make a move on you, tired of seeing you trying over and over again to seduce the supervisor to your bed. 

And when that seed finally sprouted, in the form of Johnny spitting in your mouth and taking you on your office chair like you were his last fuck on earth (according to the hair-raising description you gave Donghyuck the morning after), he should’ve been happy, right? 

It didn’t really affect his life in the slightest.

You were just y/n. His friend, his work buddy. The person whom he was close enough to let you know you had a piece of lettuce stuck on your teeth from that sandwich you had on your break. The person who texted him funny gifs of pandas falling asleep during the most boring of meetings. With your nerdy glasses and that ugly brown suit you loved wearing so much. The person he dreamt of fucking every time he fell asleep.

When you told Donghyuck you had a crush on his boss he wasn’t shocked, but the stinging buzz in his guts surprised him. He would see you waltz right past his office all perked up and pretty, to see the person you really came for, nervous as you hung from every word that left Johnny’s mouth. He’d put up with the sound of you giggling over every stupid joke that left the older man’s mouth patiently, just to wait until he’d smell your sweet perfume as you’d walk past him again. To tease you over something that would make you mad enough to notice him, glare at him, maybe even hit him.

And Donghyuck wanted to hate Johnny, he really did. His stupid boss who asked for his coffee specifically made, who was rude and cranky on Monday mornings and got the credit for all his hard work, yet Johnny was nothing of the sort. He was helpful, and kind and let him off early. He was funny and good looking and taller than him and had a six pack, damn it. If Donghyuck was being honest, he didn��t just like his boss, he admired him. It was pathetic, he thought. Most days he’d live vicariously through him. 

Sometimes he would lay on his bed at night, picturing himself to be the second lead of a romance drama that would sweep you off your feet. Everyone gets second lead fever, right? In his rem cycles, he’s handsome and hilarious and much more interesting than the main actor. He would imagine himself stretching out his rays, like the full, rising sun that he was, until they overcame the big mountain that was Johnny and reached your skin. So hot against it that you’d have to undress, remove the clothes sticking on your sweaty skin to embrace him. 

He thought about your body a hundred times too many for it to be considered healthy. The curve of your ass in your pencil skirts, the little hairs on the nape of your neck that stuck out from your tight ponytails. The runs on your tights that he wished were caused by the sharpness of his fingernails. He listened to your voice carefully, all 90 Hz of it, and played it inside his head as if it was an instrument. Putting together chords and harmonies, composing a music piece of all the ways his name would sound like coming out of your lips.

Donghyuck, Donghyuck, Donghyuck

“Earth to Donghyuck? Are you listening to me?”

It was unlike him to be out of it, especially when he was around you. He blames it on skipping coffee this morning or the shade of red of your blouse that fits you so well. Either way, he had to respond, and keep the pink from flooding his cheeks further. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going on inside his head.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. So, let me get this straight. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

You were upset, he could tell. After the night of the overtime, you and Johnny had indulged in a few more nights of each other’s presence, but had kept it at that. Sex. Delicious, mind blowing, porno worthy sex, but nothing more than that. And you were starting to itch for a little bit more.

Donghyuck was right, of course. You were the one who told Johnny that this wasn’t the right time in your life for any sort of commitment, especially with someone in the workplace. This was your internship, and you were determined to get a permanent position soon, that should be your first priority. Get the bag and go. There were men everywhere. But why was your heart aching for that particular one with the long hair and the caramel eyes and the flower tattoos? 

“I just don’t want people at work to gossip about us, you know how they get. But seeing him so nonchalant about it gets on my nerves.”

Leaving his apartment at 2 am when he was sprawled out on his bed, in just pyjama pants and the light layer of sweat from the athletic sex you just had, hurt enough. It was a sight so beautifully hidden under his work attire that it soon became addictive, the withdrawal symptoms too intense for you to have your dose only once a week. 

Donghyuck scowled when you first let out a frustrated sigh, your eyes pitifully following his boss’s silhouette around. He knew you’d never really complain about it, you were set on that promotion and you deserved it too, but it was hard not to get angry. Everything he ever wanted stood willing and ready for taking in front of Johnny’s lap, how could he not claim you?

He hated seeing you sad.

“Let’s go for a drink. I think you need it.”

Even he surprised himself with the sudden proposition, blinking back at you to gauge your reaction. You were best work buddies, sure, but you never hung out after office hours alone. It would make sense for you to refuse, Donghyuck told himself, trying to soften the blow of a potential rejection. You’re probably tired from working, or maybe you’d feel awkward to be alone with him for so long. Maybe you hated to drink, or maybe you hated him. Oh God, what if you hated him? What if you only spent time with him out of social obligat-

“Sure, sounds good. Pick me up after you’re done? Since you’re on the top floor.”

Donghyuck nodded back at you, too eagerly for his liking, the gears in his brain already trying to figure out where he should take you. You excused yourself back to your office, the small pat you gave his shoulder making him grin like an idiot.

This is not a date, he reminded himself. 

He had dreamt of this moment for months now. He thought about you every time he walked past that korean bbq place, promising himself that one day he’d muster the courage to finally ask you out. This wasn’t exactly the case today, but it was as close to his imagination as possible. This is not a date.

He repeated that phrase over and over again, let it resonate inside his head. This is not a date because he is a coward and you like someone else. Was he a bad person for taking you out today? Was he taking advantage of your slight disappointment? Was that why you ever said yes in the first place? The self deprecating thoughts lit a fire in his belly and he tried to extinguish it with every shot of clear liquid that disappeared from between his full lips. Like he expected, you weren’t far behind on the drinking either, enjoying the grilled pieces of meat blissfully, moaning in satisfaction with every delicious bite.

You looked pretty before, but now, through the pink coloured glasses of intoxication, you were stunning. There was a halo of bright light surrounding you, making you look so celestial chomping on that piece of lettuce. If it was anyone else, he would pull a face of repugnance at the sight, yet Dongyuck thought that you just looked so cute, so content in that little moment and he wished he could just lean in and leave a kiss over your filled cheeks.

No, that was a dangerous thought. This is not a date, pull it together.

Donghyuck desperately tried to focus his attention somewhere else, anywhere but you would suffice. His eyes finally landed on a bowl of marinated eggs on the table, and it reminded him of the three boiled eggs he makes for breakfast every morning. He was a man of habit, following the same routine until he’d see you and you’d colour between the lines of his life, making it interesting finally. Donghyuck would fill the pot with more water than needed, just enough so that it doesn’t overflow. He liked to be closer to you than he could handle, close enough but never touching you.

Lost in his daydream, he doesn’t realise that he hasn’t talked in minutes. And when you touch his hand lightly with yours to bring him out of it, he almost feels the boiling water burning his skin.

“You’re so quiet”, you say with a chuckle, and Donghyuck makes a mental note to add this harmony to his composition, “you got drunk before I did? Are you really Lee Donghyuck?”

“Well see, I drank all this soju, so I wish I was someone else for the night.”

The statement saddened you, and you withered a little in your seat. Why did Donghyuck drink so much tonight? You came here for you to cheer up, didn’t you? Or were you so caught up in your little personal drama - that you caused yourself - that you missed hearing about his cat dying? You must offer your condolences. Did he even have a cat?

You don’t want to bring up his dead cat in case he did so you just lift your hand next to his head, and weave your fingers through his locks. He has been growing out his hair for months now, and the look might not be the most corporate-professional but it sure fit him. The ash blonde shade that he decided to colour it, brought out the tan of his skin nicely, and the hair itself though bleached was still soft to the touch. 

You see him react to the work of your fingers instantly, his expression shocking you. His mouth is hanging open in a loose ‘O’ shape, small wrinkles forming on the space between his eyebrows. You pick out small pieces of hair, one by one, letting gravity do the rest by allowing the individual hairs to return to their previous state. 

“What are you thinking about?”, you ask so softly it’s almost a whisper, and Donghyuck can only sigh.

YOU, he wants to scream, you’re in my mind all day long and I think I’m going crazy! He is full on staring at you now and there’s nothing in the world that can take his eyes off of you, off your worried eyes that seem to hold all the stars in the sky, or the soft skin of your neck that he wants to kiss and suck and break so badly. But he doesn’t, and the soju calls him a coward for it, so he settles for the next best thing.

“You are pretty”

It was just three words but they sent your mind in a frenzy. Why did it matter so much to you that Donghyuck found you pleasing to look at? He has complimented you before, even flirted with you a lot of times, yet it was always said half-jokingly, followed by a diss. But this time he was serious, no signs of alcohol clouding his eyes. He was so solemn in fact, that those three words made the heat burn on the skin of your cheeks, rising up your throat and hindering you from responding with a human sound. 

He takes one more shot, washing away the embarrassment of his sudden confession and offers to order one more fatty dish to sober up, then take a walk in the city.

The walk was relatively quiet, less awkward than it was 30 minutes ago but Donghyuck was still being uncharacteristically silent.

“I thought you said that alcohol doesn’t make you red”, you say teasingly, trying to spark conversation. 

It doesn’t actually. You were the culprit of the wash of burgundy all over his skin, accumulating even more pigmented around his ears and the freckles of his nose. You were walking side by side now, and Donghyuck thought that for the passersby you two must look like lovers. He let his brain entertain that fantasy, his hand itching to hold yours. He’d intertwine your fingers together, give your palm a little rub with his thumb. Then he’d lift the bundle of fingers on his lips, kiss the thin skin of your wrist and make the aunties that are looking at you now coo in adoration.

“Says you. You look so fucked right now.”, he jokes and you’re relieved to see him go back to his teasing self. You don’t know if it’s the chilly night, but you’re overly aware of the heat his body emits, and the smell of his cologne makes your head spin just a bit more. You’ve been sitting so close to him this entire time that you can list off most, if not all, the ingredients in his perfume. Rose, chilly pepper, orange blossom, lavender. 

“Donghyuck, I will step on you.”

“Mmm, tempting”

You shove his arm playfully and he reciprocates, but his strength is not as controlled as he thinks. The heels of your boots, slippery against the wet floor that the drizzle caused earlier, make you trip on your steps, and Hyuck is luckily there. With his quick reflexes he catches your elbows first, pulling you up against his chest and you grab his left bicep to support your weight. 

You take a deep breath, to register that you did not fall head first on the floor, and that’s when you realise how close Donghyuck is to you. His bangs are tickling your forehead, your deep pants fanning them apart. You admire his glowing skin, the wrinkles of his lips, the two moles lined parallelly with the bridge of his nose. You’re not sure what comes to you, but you raise your free hand and place it over his hot cheek, your thumb connecting those two moles with an invisible line. A raindrop, fresh out of the sky and signifying the start of a new drizzle, falls on his face and follows the trail that a tear would, his voice weak and breaking when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry”

He dips down his head then, connecting your lips and letting the plumpness of his mouth reel you in. You’re over the initial shock almost immediately and kiss him back in vigor, surprised with the heat his kiss has spread to your chest and belly. It was an ember at first, glowing in the very depth of your insides but it was soon starting to spark up uncontrollably, and you were scared of how rapidly it was fueling up. This was your friend you were kissing. So where did all this hunger for him come from?

You pull back when you realise you’re in a road full of people, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eyes. Donghyuck looks disheveled and anxious, and he apologizes again before he urges you to keep walking with him.

“It’s starting to rain. We should get home.”

You walk next to him in complete silence now, stealing quick glances of his reflexion at every surface that made it possible -  the windows of the parked cars, the puddles of water on the sidewalk, a passersby’s glasses. The look on his face is unreadable, pensive if anything else, and it’s rare for the expressive Donghyuck you’re used to dealing with. Your homes are towards the same direction, his a little closer than yours, and it doesn’t take too long for you to reach the entrance of his building, your clothes not even half wet from walking without umbrellas.

Donghyuck fumbles to find his keys, his hands shaking from the adrenaline his body released from the kiss earlier, the feeling still too fresh against his lips. He stresses thinking of what to do next. Should he hug you goodnight? Apologize again for kissing you? Unlock the entrance without a word and never speak to you again? 

“I’m here”, he states dumbly, as if you’d sit at the porch of a strange house and he avoids your eyes as if you were Medusa, “Goodnight.”

You smile back awkwardly at him, waving with a hand made of clay as you wish him the same. He has turned around to unlock the door, key already at the keyhole and you turn to leave too when his voice stills you in place.

“He’s an idiot.” His back is still facing you, and when he turns to look at you his eyes finally lock with yours, as honest and earnest as ever. “Johnny. If it were me, hell, if you wanted me like that I would grab that opportunity- grab you in an instant, convince you to be mine any way I could.”

You’re stuck looking at him like a fool, trying to comprehend what he’s saying and the complications of it. He puffs out through his nose, chuckling to himself and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter. Goodnight y/n.”

Donghyuck is half inside the entrance now and your body suddenly exits its frozen state, blocking the door from closing with your boot. He’s shocked with the sudden movement and he opens up the door further for you. You get inside the little hall without thinking, sitting firmly in front of him, a puzzled look on his face. 

“What if I told you he hasn’t even crossed my mind this whole time we were out? What if I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed me? Would it matter then?”

He opens his mouth momentarily, as if to speak but decides to stay silent. He already said everything he needed. It’s up to you now.

And you aren’t ready to leave yet.

You take a step forward to close the distance between you, your chests touching and you pick up the distinct smell of soju in his breath. You’re not sure if it’s that smell or the proximity but you feel drunk all over again, the yellow light of the hall shining disturbingly bright down at you and urging you to do something.

You plant a kiss over his neck, leaving a trace of the remnants of the pink lipstick you applied at the start of the workday. It was tentative, but you could still feel his raging pulse from under your lips. You could feel it get faster too, the rhythm going higher along with his body temperature and you decide on a path. A path of kisses starting from the same spot you’ve turned glittery pink, up his jawline and all the way to his earlobe.

Donghyuck clenches his jawline, you feel that too, and something snaps inside him. He just can’t take it anymore, having you so close to him, your lips on his neck and doing nothing about it. The boiling water finally spilled over the pot, hot and overflowing, and he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

You feel the cool wood against your back before you taste his tongue a second after. He has pushed you up against the entrance door, you realize, but it’s hard to comprehend anything around you when he kisses you like that. It’s the steamy, purposeful continuation of the kiss you shared earlier, and with the lack of prying eyes Donghyuck has a good idea of where he wants it to lead.

He shows you too, pushing his knee between your thighs and he feels your heat almost melt the rough fabric of his jeans. There are so many things he wants to do, so many lines he wants to cross but there is one thing he must ensure.

“Tell me you want this.”

You glide your hands upwards from his pecks to the slope of his neck and wrap them around his neck. Your body seems to act up on its own, and you feel yourself grinding down his leg that is still positioned against the wall. It feels dirty, the desperation of it all, and you connect your chest with his again before answering him.

“Lee Donghyuck. I want you to make me cum” 

You grab his hand before he gets to respond, the cool silver of his watch digging against your fingers, and you drag him to the elevator door. As if the universe had sensed your urgency, you find it waiting for you at the bottom floor, and you pull him inside with a tug of his tie.

In no time you find yourself pushed up against the wall again, and you can’t see much beyond Donghyuck’s lips, but you do catch him clumsily pressing the button to his floor with your peripheral vision. Once the elevator is in motion you feel like you can finally submerge yourself in his lips and the way his kisses take your breath away, not sure if the funny feeling in your stomach is from the sudden change in altitude or the arousal. You’re already taking his clothes off, removing the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and working the top buttons of his shirt open.

It’s him that drags you to his apartment this time, urging you out of the elevator as soon as the robotic declaim of his floor number rips through the wet sounds of you kissing. His keys are already easily accessible in his front pocket from your conversation earlier, and when he manages to unlock the entrance with trembling hands you walk inside as if you own the place.

It’s small and cozy, decorated minimally. The first thing you notice is that it smells like Donghyuck, something that should be obvious but it still overwhelms you. It’s maybe a bit stuffy from the hours he was gone yet this is the smell still lingering in your nose from his skin you were sucking just moments ago, trying to distract him from the easy task of opening the door. It’s addictive and you want it stuck on yours.

And Donghyuck does stick on your skin, discarding his tie on the floor with a strong pull and finishing the task of unbuttoning his shirt that you started in the elevator. His movements are impatient and soon he’s half naked, and you barely have time to admire his caramel skin before his hands are all over you. They start safely at the dimples of your waist, then sliding upwards to your ribcage and copping a feel of the underside of your boobs by sneaking his thumbs under the wire of your bra. You want to feel more, encourage his probing fingers so you reach to the clasp on your back, unfastening the garment and removing it through the hem of your blouse. 

Donghyuck can’t take his eyes off your chest, nipples hardened from your arousal and poking through the thin fabric. He takes his thumbs, the same thumbs that lit a fire in your belly earlier and flips the bud, toying it around and rubbing circles around it. The response from you is immediate, moans that start off soft and build up to a crescendo bouncing off the walls of his apartment.

It drives you crazy, a little bit, that smirk he has on his face now. It’s so familiar in between his features, you’ve seen it countless of times, especially during his typical teasings of you, yet is carries so much newfound weight now, so much sex appeal. He’s already giving you what you need but the climaxing is too slow for your liking, you want more and you want it now. You want what you asked him for in the lobby of this building.

Donghyuck can either read your mind or read through the increased frequency of your moans because he undresses down to his boxers, forming a trail of clothes from his living room to his bedroom, where he has led you. He doesn’t even bother to open the lights, relying on the moonlight from his window for lighting and pushing you down on his bedsheets. 

He climbs up with you, hovering over you and you move back a bit so that your head rests comfortably over his pillows. If the smile he gave you earlier had affected you, then the hungry look on his face right now almost makes you come untouched, his eyes raking up and down your body as if he doesn’t know where to start.

He decides on your calves, kissing them and moving upwards slowly and sensually, not missing the sensitive skin on the side of your knees and paying extra attention to your inner thighs. He’s still at it a minute and a half later, and you can’t tell in the dark but you’re sure they must be decorated by bite marks by now, his close proximity to the source of your pleasure making you squirm in his hold.  

It feels like ages since you last felt his fingers when he grips the soft meat of your thighs and spreads them apart. They soon move up to the hem of your skirt, rolling the fabric upwards and over your ass. You feel his breath against your pussy, making it tingle and twitch even more than it already has, and the wait feels like a new level of hell in Dante’s Inferno. 

A single finger pets you over your underwear, drawing lines over the damp fabric from your clit down to your entrance and then up again. You whimper and whine at the sensation that is half a step from what you consider satisfactory and he hooks a finger on the black lace, moving it to the side and letting you experience the cool air of the room all over again. The full exposure brings heat to your face and you breathe through the embarrassment that arouses you even more.

“Hey, Donghyuck?”

“Yes?”

“Is your cat still alive?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He licks one long stripe over your entrance, and you feel the goosebumps spreading all over your arms and legs. Nimble fingers spread your folds apart, and you hold your breath as he lets his cool spit drip from his lips and land onto your lower ones, then starts sucking over your clit. His tongue is wet and his breath is hot, the combination driving you insane. You grip the comforter, digging into it with your nails to keep yourself grounded.

“Oh my god, yes, right there”

The praise motivates him to keep trying hard, not that it will take a lot of effort to make you come undone. Donghyuck’s unprecedented touches and the newfound sexual tension they have ignited had already worked you up, his skill in oral accelerating the build up to your climax even more. And just when you thought it couldn’t get better than this he starts a series of kitten licks right over your clit, each one sending a wave of pleasure stronger than the one before.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

You’re grinding on his face, trying to find the right pace when you finally come undone, thighs shaking and desperately trying to push his hands away to cover up your sensitivity again. His hold is steady and he continues to lick you keenly, the lewd sound of him slurping your wetness filling the room. Your eyes open wide and you can only stare at his white ceiling during your overstimulation, the cracks and crumbling plaster caused from humidity looking like constellations in your orgasm-drunk mind. The second climax hits you suddenly but forcefully, unable to control the volume of your voice, not that you can hear yourself clearly in your daze. It’s an array of moans and screams and tiny whimpers of Donghyuck’s name, his beautiful symphony coming to life.

His appetite for you is finally satiated, and he decides to take mercy on you and remove his lips from your pulsating heat. You look so beautiful right now, he thinks, skin illuminated by the pale moonlight that is reflected on the wetness dripping from your pussy. He hovers over you again, pulling you into another kiss and you lazily reciprocate. His member is painfully hard, sliding over your slickness. You squirm and yelp everytime the fabric of his underwear grazes against your clit, your nerve endings screaming in sensitivity.

“I don’t have a condom on me”, you whisper against his lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue engaging you in the kiss again.

“I’m too tired to fuck you like you deserve anyways”

It would be criminal from you to leave him untouched like that. He looks so hot over you, messy hair and chin glistening in your juices. You absentmindedly place your nails on his collarbones, then scratch your way down over his navel. Donghyuck hisses at the numb stinging of pain, hips buckling against your pussy in the pursuit of some sort of friction. 

You move your hand even lower, slipping your fingers past the waistband of his boxers. You move past the bristles you find and grasp his member, that is not too long but an impressive girth. You manage to free it from his underwear, and you can’t really tell in the dim lighting but you bet it must have turned a purple-ish red colour. It’s leaking.

“But we don’t have a condom”

You take one of his hands in yours, giving it a kiss to calm him down, then place it over your left boob. He toys with the mound of your chest, squeezing the softness. You had other plans for him.

Connecting your knees together, you let the softness of your thighs connect, with only maybe a slither of space between them. Your hands are still on Donghyuck’s cock and you reach to hold his balls, massaging them slightly and pulling him towards you.

He takes your cue and leans forward, sliding himself between your thighs. The moan he lets out is guttural and elongated, laced with the beautiful metallic tone of his voice. He lets go of your breasts and wraps his arms around your knees, putting your calves on each of his shoulders and continues to rut his hips against you. 

“Fuck. This feels so good”

You look up to see Donghyuck’s face, contorted in a frown that can only be described as desperate, his lips puffy and red from all the licking and kissing and sucking. 

He looks painfully sexy, and you momentarily imagine all the things you would do to him if the serotonin of your double orgasm and the alcohol in your belly weren’t weighing you down. You’d gladly stay up all night for him, tugging on his long hair as you’d let him bend you in any position he wanted. You bet that thickness would feel amazing stretching you out and you moan at the thought, your thighs flexing involuntarily and making him moan even more. 

Soon he has picked up his pace, the tip of his cock reappearing between your thighs more frequently and you can feel his thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

“Fuck fuck, I’m coming”

He suddenly pushes forward, almost collapsing on top of you as a string of satisfactory groans leave his lips. His hips still with a stagger and you entrancingly watch the ropes of white dripping from his cock and landing on your blouse. It was a mess, but you can worry about it in the morning.

Donghyuck fucks your thighs slowly for a little longer, elongating his pleasure for as long as he can and soothing the crescent moons his nails formed on your skin with his fingertips. He reaches one hand to his bedroom floor where he finds a -what you hope is- clean t-shirt, and pats his cum off your blouse as best as he could.

It has gotten late and you’re both exhausted, Donghyuck’s comfortable weight on top of you lulling you to sleep. He’s hugging your hips now, head resting on your stomach and occasionally kissing your hip bones tenderly. You’re not sure when you slip out of consciousness but you do hear Donghyuck mumble something against your skin, something the kiss of Morpheus doesn’t allow you to make out.

You wake up to a white ceiling. Not just any white ceiling- a cracked, full of moisture pockets ceiling and you wonder when you let the humidity mess up your apartment this much. The culprit of your awakening, the morning sun rays that shine right on your eyes; way too bright than what you’re used to, force your eyelids to open, and it takes you a moment to adjust to the abundant light. This isn’t your apartment.

The sight of a man that greets your barely recovered rentinas shocks you, and you rub your eyes just in case you’re stuck in a lucid dream or something. You see the mess of ash blonde hair and the pile of work clothes discarded on the floor and your mind soon is flooded with last night’s events, buzzed out in your foggy memory. You sense another buzz as well, a physical one this time and you wiggle in place when you feel something hard and metallic digging in your butt. You prod a little with your fingers, trying not to wake up Donghyuck too abruptly and you realise that yes, you’ve been sitting on a phone all night.

Shouldn’t it be a Tuesday today? It’s very bright for it to be that early but surely Donghyuck must have set an alarm for the both of you last night. You yawn involuntarily, deciding to play with your phone until he wakes up as well when the bright white display pulls all the blood from your face.

8:40. You have to be at work in 20 minutes.

“Donghyuck! Hyuck!”

You didn’t care to make your touches light. They were shoves, really, pushing at his shoulders frantically to get him off of you and pull him out of his slumber. He wakes up with a gasp, trying desperately to keep his balance and failing, to then fall unceremoniously on the floor.

“What the hell?”, he groans out with a hoarse, groggy version of his voice, “My head is pounding”

“It will hurt even more once I’m done with you! You didn’t set an alarm last night? Today’s a work day!’

With his eyes bulging, he launches himself forward, grabbing the phone from your hands. 

“Shit, shit, shit”. He’s fully awake now, hands rubbing his face to come up with the next logical steps to take, in order to have you both at work on time and looking presentable. “I have a mouthwash and hairbrush in my bathroom, I’ll get ready here”

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?”

“Yesterday’s clothes? Are you really that concerned about recycling an outfit right now?”

You roll your eyes, pushing your blouse down and dragging his comforter off your body. 

“Did you forget about this?”

You straighten out the fabric for him to see, and the big, grossly dried out cum stains aren’t hard to notice. His face looks worried, but not necessarily apologetic, and you can almost see the scenes from the sex you shared last night play through his eyes like a porn film. 

“Your skirt is fine, right? I’ll find a shirt that fits you”

You’re spitting out the fluorescent blue liquid when he timorously walks in the bathroom to leave the piece of clothing he promised. It smells heavily of those moth-repellent sachets and looks slightly wrinkled, like something he pulled out from the depths of his closet but you don’t really have the privilege of playing Suzy Menkes right now. You pull and tuck the fabric in creative ways, in order to style the garment into something you might walk into work wearing one day, yet it’s painfully obvious to you how misfitted it is; too big around the shoulders as one would expect from a man’s shirt.

You exit the bathroom after giving up, pressed by the limited time and the sound of Donghyuck’s uneasy steps through the door. You let him freshen up as well and use the time to collect your things that are scattered all over his place - he was kind enough to bring you your bra that was discarded in his living room floor along with his shirt - and soon you were rushing out of his house and into separate cabs so as not to raise suspicion.

The rest of the day was normal, well- according to this new definition of normalcy for you. Where everything and everyone seems to follow this movie script of what a typical company must look like, while you worry that someone will probe uninvitedly into your thoughts. God knows what they would fish out. A broken record player of Donghyuck’s moans when he cums, the burn of his thick sex rubbing against your thighs, the paths of his neck veins you memorized by heart. 

You shake your head to clear it from the intrusive thoughts, and click the refresh button of your emails. The sound of keys being tapped and printers being put to use lands you back to reality, and you calmly click on the new incoming message from the Sales Department.

It was Johnny.

You’d think that after having his dick down your throat for about half a minute, getting butterflies in your stomach from the mere sight of his email address would stop being a recurring event for you. But alas, here they were, tapping their little wings in a flutter that turns into a hurricane of anxiety, and you sarcastically thank the universe for having to deal with Johnny while looking like an 80’s librarian.

You walk up the stairs like your ankle’s dragging a ball and a chain, the piece of paper in your hands getting slightly ripped from the abuse of your nervous fingers. It was a stupid document, barely half filled with any valuable information and you think it can’t be worth the calories you burned with that trip. It certainly wasn’t worth entering hell, aka mr. Suh’s office, and just the thought of him waiting for you in his fitted suit and gelled back hair is making you light headed. If Johnny was Hades then Donghyuck definitely was Cerberus, guarding his boss with his three heads and his big dick.

You leave a breath out when you realise he isn’t there, making your way onto Johnny’s office with lighter feet. He smiles brightly when he sees you, handsome as ever, and you carefully leave the document on his messy desk.

“Well, isn’t it my favourite intern”

You laugh at his sing-song tone, enjoying how warm he was being today.

“You used to avoid me like the plague and now I’m your favourite?”

“You always were my favourite”, he winks, and pushes back his hair like he knows the effect it has on you, “If someone is avoiding anyone like the plague that’s Donghyuck. I would have sent him to you but I can’t find him anywhere.”

You gulp dryly at his words, an invisible awl pinching your chest. You could feel Donghyuck slipping away from every place that you might share, in a very subtle way, but still noticeable from you. He left the kitchen hastily when you walked in to make your coffee, excused himself out of the lunch break through which you always kept him company, and now he was gone as well. Was last night such a big mistake in his point of view?

“I’m kidding, I just wanted to see you.”

He motions you to come closer and you timidly oblige, serenaded by the sound of his voice but not missing the hunger his eyes hold. He’s still seated in his big leather office chair, thighs spread out in a way that turned you on embarrassingly much, and you fit yourself in the space between his long legs. 

“He is very jumpy though, Donghyuck. Do you know what happened to him?”

Your whole body tenses up, muscles hardening defensively. “Why would I know?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that you guys are so close.”

Close. Close as in having his knee between your thighs, close as in being pushed up against his chest and the elevator mirror. Close as in knowing how his tongue feels massaging your clit. 

“Have I seen you in that before?”

You’re confused with the sudden question and when you search for the context you realise he’s talking about your- Donghyuck’s shirt. Did he smell the sex on you? The overwhelming scent of pheromones and Donghyuck’s cologne that your nose just couldn’t ignore?

“I don’t think so”, you try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, “it’s new.”

“No”, Johnny insists, and pinches the fabric with his fingers. He’s very knowledgeable about fashion, always complimenting you on your outfit choices and you know he wouldn’t let this one go so easily. “I’m sure I’ve seen this before.”

You follow his line of sight towards the ivory fabric too, as if you expected there to be written “YOUR ASSISTANT GAVE ME THE BEST HEAD OF MY LIFE LAST NIGHT”, in a bright red marker. It was a prison, in the form of 99% cotton and 1% pure anxiety, and you know you had to distract Johnny out of this subject one way or the other.

“You like it?”, you ask seductively, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

“I’d like you better without it.”

With just one strong, yet calculated pull he has you sat over the length of his thigh. Your hands land on his chest for stability, right over his pecks that fill your palms easily. There’s nothing you want more than to suck on those perfectly sculpted lips of his, but you’re not too faithful on Donghyuck’s mouthwash so you settle for the earlobe that isn’t pierced instead.

He loves the feeling, the activation of his erogenous area and the suction of your lips that resembles one of your favourite activities together.

“I like this shirt”, he starts, unbuttoning your chest into plain view, “and I love this skirt”

He runs his big hands over the plumpless of your ass, squeezing it then retracting his fingers back on your thighs. They’re cold against your burning skin and the contrast causes goosebumps to erupt in the shape of his handprint.

“You love all my skirts Johnny”

“I do. Because I can do this”

His fingers roll the hem of your skirt up your thigh, the only thing separating your heat with the smooth fabric of his slacks being your skimpy underwear. You’re pretty sure the wetness must be transferring to it already, your thoughts of Donghyuck and all the things he could do with you having you desperate for a release. Johnny pets your clit over your panties then, just a light graze of his finger that elicits a moan from you.

Your hips move on their own, slowly humping his thigh that flexes from under you. You grab his tie to help your movement when your pace picks up, enjoying his body heat that coated you. 

“Someone might see us.”

His desk chair was large, sure, but so was Johnny, and even though his back was facing the door of his office, no one could mistake the sight of you riding him as anything else. 

“I told you, Donghyuck keeps disappearing. And it seems like it won’t take you too long to cum with the way you moan like that, right babe?”

“Johnny…”

You were a whiny mess at this point, humping his leg to reach your high. He was nice enough to help you, his hands guiding you as you mess up all over him, lips stuck on the patch of skin right under your ear.

“You know, I kind of miss you calling me Mr. Suh.” he whispers as he’s sucking on your neck, and you shiver at the tone of his voice, “What do I have to do next time you come over to have you call me like that?”

You can’t contain your whimpers anymore, the stinging tears of arousal threatening to roll down your face, so you close your eyes to keep the moisture in. Everything is just too much, the pleasure of your clit rubbing on him, his nails that dig in the flesh of your hips, the heavy suggestions in his words; your orgasm was hanging by a thread and it was a matter of seconds for it to snap. And it did snap, with a bite on your neck, and along with it your eyes snapped open as well.

Donghyuck was staring right back at you.

Your eyes crossed in pleasure, blurry vision making it hard to focus on him. You were falling apart over Johnny’s body, legs shaking and insides melting with his praise. Donghyuck took the sight in from the opened door, eyes studying your face of pleasure and bare chest decorated with Johnny’s kisses peeking from his own shirt. You’d be lying had you dismissed the fact that his presence intensified your orgasm times a hundred. The exposure of your act, the naughtiness of getting caught and by him of all people. You watched as he retreated outside from the office with silent steps, to give you privacy or recover from the embarrassment or both.

And Donghyuck would be lying too, had he said he didn’t like the sight. The mere memory of your face all fucked out flushed his own in crimson red. He remembered it all clearly, from your plush lips to Johnny’s mess of a hair, to the tremble of your body. It refused to leave his mind, the scene of you getting satisfaction from another man, but not because he wanted to erase it. He thought he fit right in, right in that scene between you and his boss.  

You texted him later that day, apologizing for what he had to witness and promising him you would return the shirt as soon as you washed it. He politely allowed you to keep it, not at all acknowledging the incident from earlier, nor the night you spent together. You didn’t have the guts to ask, for you didn’t know that Donghyuck didn’t regard last night as a mistake, like you thought. He was tired of boiling in the guilt of his feelings, selfishly admitting to himself that he did not regret a single thing. He was into you, he meant every word that came out of his mouth, so why was he avoiding you all day yesterday? He was still the fucking coward.

The next day came rolling along, and with it came a long list of things you wanted to avoid. The first one was arguably dealing with your best friend, the lengthy paperwork you had to fill out being a close second.  

Your mind was occupied with a plethora of thoughts, with Johnny holding the main spot. You’d seen him in your sleep last night, starring in the extremely detailed wet dream your brain fabricated for you, hot breaths and deep thrusts forcing you into the disappointing consciousness of today’s morning.

And the pictures he had sent you right after you decided to get up weren’t helping either. His tall, half naked build occupied most of the shot, skin glistening in the after-shower steam. His toothbrush was hanging from his foamy mouth, in an attempt to make the picture look nonchalant, yet you knew his motives. You let your eyes drink up the sight of his defined abdomen, then moved downwards along the dark happy trail that peeked from the towel, loosely hanging from his waist. Hip bones teasing you and all. Just drop the fucking towel Johnny.

Needless to say, you were a mess when you arrived at the office. The cats in heat outside of your window, the phallic shaped baguette your baker generously treated you with this morning; everything seemed to remind you of the heat between your legs that you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore. You tried rubbing your thighs, drowning in the paperwork, even locking your phone in one of your drawers so as not to be tempted to look at Johnny’s thirst trap again. But he had won.

You grab a bunch of documents that seemed important enough, shove them in your favourite binder, and make your way to Johnny’s office upstairs. 

You knew you had to deal with Donghyuck. It was the unavoidable repercussion of messing up your life like that, getting men that were too good looking for this boring ass company tangled up in what seemed to be a simple internship. Taking a deep breath, then two more for good measure, you start to strut confidently in a straight line that led to Johnny’s office door.

“He’s on call, come back later.”

Your head instinctively turns to the source of the sound, to find Donghyuck staring at the display of his laptop that seemed to be much more interesting than you. The matter-of-fact way he formed his sentences was not unlike him, yet something in you begged for a little bit of attention. Blame it on how horny you’ve been all morning, or the fact that now that you’ve seen him naked, the strict tone affects you much more than it should.

Bothered by your thoughts and thinking about having to sit back at your office for the rest of the work day, you let the binder slip from your hands and drop on the wooden floor. You lean down to collect the scattered pieces of paper, your heels making it hard for you to keep your balance easily, and soon enough you sense a movement from behind you.

“No panties huh?”

It was supposed to be a surprise. Payback for the dirty thoughts Johnny planted in your head this morning. You’d walk in all innocently, sit right across his desk and give him a little Basic Instinct Sharon Stone moment. Then leave him high and dry again, while mentally keeping a note to clear out all your plans for the weekend. But see, he couldn’t give you what you wanted after all, and your resolve started to break. Whatever it was you wanted, you wanted it now.

You get up, unfolding your body slowly and refusing to look at Donghyuck, much like he did when you walked inside. The smirk playing on your lips couldn’t be concealed through your voice.

“Like what you see?”

You gasp as he presses up against you, the only contact you have with one another being his hard-on that nudges your ass. Following your body’s orders, you push back against him too, and you can tell the breath he lets out is ragged and full of tension.

He reaches for your binder with an arm around you, flipping through the pages as he sucks his teeth in disapproval.

“These are last week’s reports. Are you really here for these or are you looking for another quickie with Johnny?” A moan escapes you then, and the little thrust that Donghyuck allows himself drives you both crazy. “Thought so. How insatiable are you? I made you cum two nights ago, Johnny helped you out yesterday. If you really are that desperate you could’ve just come to me for help, doll”

His soft palm rests on the front of your thigh, slowly sliding his way under your skirt. You squirm in his hold in anticipation, and you have to bite your tongue to hold in the noises that threaten to leave you. 

“Donghyuck, Johnny is sitting right through that door. He could come out any minute now and see us”

“And?”

“Your boss is sitting right through that door. You could get fired”

“I could die after this”

His thumb ficks your clit swiftly, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to slip his other one inside your gaping mouth.

“But-“

“Shh. Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby”

You’re melting in his hold at this point, your back still resting against his chest, lips sucking his digit. The scent of his cologne that you’ve grown so familiar with overwhelms you, painting all your surroundings in a red tint of lust.

“Spread your legs for me”. You oblige with his orders immediately, your arousal not allowing you to keep him waiting. “Wider”.

You take a quick look behind your shoulder to check that the door is still, indeed, closed, only to be met face to face with Donghyuck. His breath is hot against your face, eyes locked on his thumb toying with your lower lip and you completely forget what you initially turned around for. The kiss was natural, your lips melding easily with his ones. The need for him washes over you like a heatwave and you lift your skirt to urge him to continue before you go insane. 

He gets the hint and moves his hand lower, middle finger tracing your opening ever so slightly. It makes you shiver and you realise how quiet the room has fallen, the only source of sound coming muffled through the closed door to Johnny’s office. It excites you and it must show through the wetness between your lower lips, and Donghyuck patiently collects it all. He transfers the moisture over the bud of your clit, his finger smoothly massaging the sensitive skin. It feels divine and there’s no way you’d ask him to stop yet you know there’s something else Donghyuck is after, the sweet tightness that he didn’t get to experience that night at his apartment.

It was a bit much to fuck you out there like that, even for his exhibitionistic tendencies, but nothing could stop him from feeling the next best thing. 

His first finger enters you unhurriedly, careful of your reactions. You moan out his name and he moans at how tight you are, soft pussy practically sucking his finger in. He soon enters his ring finger as well, slowly moving them inside you until you feel every stretch and curl. Your wetness starts to drip at this point, coating his fingers with your juices.

“Such a dirty girl, making all this mess at my office”

The leisure pace ruins you, your eyes shut close in search of patience. You feel his other palm move from under your skirt as well, resting flat against your lower abdomen. He wants to feel himself inside you.

“Donghyuck, please. More”

A chuckle is heard from your left ear, and you can vividly imagine how his face must look like now. The cocky smirk, the tongue poking the inside of his cheek. The next pump has you muffling your whimpers with the back of your fist, his fingers curling just right and fucking straight into your g-spot. 

“More? Look at you. Pretty slut.” 

He’s full on finger fucking you now, and swallowing your moans is gradually becoming more and more difficult. The world crumbles from under your feet and you let yourself get carried away in the intense pleasure, the fast pumping making your legs shake.

“You’re gonna cum?”, he whispers again, and you can only respond with a nod, “That’s my fucking girl”

The orgasm’s intense, shaking you as you bite your hand and hold onto Donghyuck for extra support. He continues to move his fingers afterwards, drawing out your euphoria for as long as he can, then finally leaves you empty once your moans have died down. You immediately cover yourself up again once you sober up from your high, suddenly embarrassed by Donghyuck’s intense stare. He’s moving his eyes through all the features of your face, only for them to fall frozen on your lips, and lifts his hand up to rest his two fingers over them. You get his initiative and put them in your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“Unless you want us both to get fired I think you should go back to your office. I don’t think I can contain myself around you”

You release his digits with a pop, your eyes full of seduction.  

“What would you do to me?”

Donghyuck growls at your question, turning you around so that you’re fully face to face and chest to chest. 

“You’d look so pretty on your knees, mouth full of cock”. He grabs a handful of your ass, bringing you flush against him and proceeds to grind his painfully hard dick between your thighs. Your noses touch and you feel dizzy at the proximity; the words he mutters against your cum coated lips. “I’d peel those clothes off of you, find the nearest mirror. Stretch you out against the glass so that you see how good you take it.”

You shiver as a response, then force yourself to put some distance between you before you do something stupid. He kindly helps you collect your things in silence, those useless documents that were laying scattered on the floor, and in a moment of weakness you let him pin you against the wall right before you go.There was something so addictive about him and your chemistry, and your lips burn at the memory of his kisses. You’re not sure how much longer you can contain that hunger anymore.

The end of a shift and the beginning of another overtime. It felt like deja vu at this point, after all the countless extra hours you’ve put into the internship, seeing people grab their briefcases and their car keys as they empty the space around you. You take a moment to appreciate the view of the setting sun from the small window of your office, inhaling deeply as you wrap the hair that’s been bothering you in a ponytail. Your neck hurts and the tension of your body is translating into a dull pain, so you stretch it a little, bobbing your head from side to side.

You jump a little in your seat when you feel a set of hands on your shoulder blades. They massage the sore spots, treating the muscle knots and helping your blood flow freely. It was obvious Donghyuck didn’t have enough of you earlier, and you pout at having to turn down another visit to his apartment because of your overtime duties. 

You were ready to scold him off, tell him you’re busy and that you promise to make it up for him another time, when you feel his soft lips kissing the most sensitive spot on the slope of your neck. You let out a long sigh, subconsciously exposing your neck more for him, and a high pitched whine rumbles in your chest. It’s released as a moan of Donghyuck’s name.

“Donghyuck?!”

You freeze in the uncomfortable arch, your ears confused by the deepness of the voice belonging to the man behind you. Not even the confusion laced in it can cover up the lack of airiness and clarity you’re used to when it comes to Donghyuck’s tone. It’s Johnny.

“I… We-“

You’re left speechless, clueless as to what to say next. You know you don’t have to explain yourself, it’s not like you and Johnny are exclusive. Yet his shocked face at the sound of his assistant’s name coming so lewdly off your lips has your brain scrambling to find some sort of explanation. Thankfully, he’d interrupt your panic in a second.

“The big boss wants you upstairs. I offered to come get you.”

He doesn’t sound angry or upset, nor disappointed. It’s a fresh air of relief before you realize that this is not what you should worry about right now. What the hell does the CEO of the company want to talk to you about? Are you getting the boot? It must be it, but why? Your numbers have been great, you’re always on time - except that one morning, but technically it was Donghyuck’s fault - and you’ve been praised by your supervisor numerous times during your internship.

Unless- What if there’s cameras in the office? 

You start to panic at the thought of an involuntary sex tape become the cause of your dismissal, so caught up in your thoughts that you’re completely unaware you’ve spent the entire trip up the stairs with Johnny in silence. When you enter the CEO’s office, heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears, you notice that all of the department’s supervisors are present in the impromptu meeting as well. You sit next to Johnny, in an attempt to calm yourself down, and you see the head of your department send you an encouraging smile.

“Shall we start?”

A briefing of your work in the company ensued, numbers and graphs that wouldn’t make sense to anyone other than the people in the room. Thirty minutes have passed and no surveillance tape has been whipped out, turning you more confused than ever. The numbers were good, the words from your supervisor are complimentary, so why would they fire you? 

“That is all for the briefing. After seeing your progress and the contribution you’ve made to the company, we’ve decided to offer you a permanent position, if you’d be interested of course”

Oh my god. You can’t believe this day finally came. Your face was glowing, and you tried to convince yourself to stay calm while you talked about your new position and the raise in salary that came with it. With shaky hands you sign the documents, and your boss congratulates you once again, dismissing you off your overtime. 

You waited for everyone to leave the hallway before jumping in Johnny’s arms. He caught you easily, strong build supporting you and lifting your feet off the ground before landing you safely again.

“Good job intern, I’m so proud of you”

“Hey, I’m not an intern anymore!”, you complain by bumping his chest with your fist and he pats your head lovingly in return.

“Why did you have to be in the room as well? Did you know about my promotion?”

“No, actually, they just told me an hour ago. It was hard to keep myself from telling you everything right away.”

The excitement coursed through you, and a sudden urge to kiss him until your lips were numb overwhelmed you. You were ready to turn your thoughts into reality, when you saw Donghyuck from the corner of your eye, instinctively smiling at your obvious happiness.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I got promoted!”

Donghyuck gasped, a huge smile spreading across his face. Your excitement’s contentious so he tackles you without a second thought, his embrace so tight that you can barely breathe. You can see that he’s trying his best to contain a kiss, his glance moving back and forth between you and Johnny. He still kept a possessive hand around your waist once he let you down however, a gesture that could seem innocent yet you knew better.

Johnny smirks at the sight of you two, confidence dripping off his body and making you shiver. You get dizzy at the thought of Donghyuck not knowing that Johnny knows about you, yet Donghyuck knowing about Johnny but not giving a fuck.

“So how do we celebrate?”, the older man asks, with a playful tone that might as well be your active imagination.

“Wanna go for a drink?”, Donghyuck suggests, boldly keeping his eyes at you only while he does so.

You pout in thought, humming pensively when an idea pops into your head. 

“How about you come over my place for one?”

You should have thought this through more thoroughly, is all you can think about as you’re trapped between Johnny and Hyuck on your couch. Well, not really- there is a sizable distance between you three, yet the atmosphere in the room is so dense it’s nearly palpable. Three glasses, half-full of the alcohol of their choice are sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and you awkwardly stare at the sweat that falls from your glass and forms rings on the wooden surface. 

Your body has loosened up from your drink yet your heart can’t stop racing, not when Donghyuck is looking at you like that. He looks like a man starved for days while you’re the meal presented deliciously in his arm’s reach, and he can’t wait to have you alone and curve his growing appetite. And you ignore Johnny’s cheeky smiles and flirtatious winks as well, carrying on a conversation that doesn’t belong in the inescapable tone of the room but flows easily, until it ends and you’re met with heavy silence and the ticking analog clock on your wall again.

You ask them if they would like some water, getting up before you receive an answer, and you yelp a little when you feel a strong arm halting your trip to the kitchen before it even started. You lose your balance and wobble a little in your spot before unceremoniously landing on Johnny’s lap.

He doesn’t help you up, but loops and arm around your waist instead, holding you in place. In circumstances other than the ones that have already made their mark on your sexual history, staying in this position with his assistant still in the room would be highly inappropriate.

“You’re all we need”, he reassures you with a voice made of silk, then repositions you with a jerk of his knee, your heat grinding right against his half hard member.

“When were you gonna tell me?”

You open and close your mouth sequentially like a fish out of water, choking out a reply after the insistent tick-tock that resonates through the room and gives a tempo to your anxiety.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know what I’m talking about. A little birdy told me I’m not the only one enjoying this perfect little body. Is that right Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck’s eyes bulged out of his skull, almost choking in the sip of the drink he was enjoying when the unexpected question hit him. Sizzling heat floods your face as he stares at you sternly, and you shake your head defensively.

“I didn’t tell him-“

“Well no, not exactly”, Johnny interrupts and places his big hands over your thighs, “I was just kissing her neck, trying to get her to relax, and lo and behold, she starts moaning your name like its a fucking reflex. You’ve really gotten into her head, apparently”

Donghyuck swells up in pride, that much is evident, yet he’s way too distracted to say anything in response, too busy staring at Johnny’s fingers spreading your thighs apart to expose your damp underwear. Johnny’s lips are planted on your neck, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and you wince when you feel the sharp sting of a slap on your inner thigh.

“You aren’t being a good hostess, baby. Open up your legs more, let Hyuck see your pretty pussy. You remember what word to say when you want me to stop, right?” You whimper the designated safe word while opening your thighs further, digging the heels of your feet in the couch’s pillows. “Good girl”

He dips a hand through the band of your underwear, busying his fingers under the fabric. You moan as they slide through the wetness and he smiles a cocky smile when he sees Donghyuck palming himself through his slacks. He removes the skimpy thong with the help of your hips moving to assist him, to then push the fabric inside your mouth with little to no resistance from you.

“Isn’t this pussy divine? I swear when I bottomed out inside of her the first time I thought I lost my damn mind”

He toys with your opening, only dipping half a finger in to challenge Donghyuck to pay attention.

“We haven’t actually…”

“She only let you play with her?”, Johnny teases him, then pushes his point and middle finger all the way inside you, making his assistant’s imagination run wild at what your pussy must feel like sucking him in. “You’re missing out man”

“I’ve made her cum probably twice as many times as you’ve ever have”

You chuckle at his smart remark and Johnny glares at you, softly slapping your pussy to keep you at bay.

“No one addressed you. You’ll get to make all the noise you want in a sec, baby”

You squirm in place, letting out a muffled apology through your gag and Donghyuck looks seriously affected by the sight.

“Isn’t she obedient?”, Johnny asks while grazing your g-spot, and you moan from both the praise and the stimulation.

Hyuck unbuttons his pants at the lewd sound, pulling his dick from the slit of his boxers and you admire his impressive girth. He lets his body decline comfortably on the pillows behind him, spreading his own legs at shoulder-length. The mouth-watering sight of him jerking himself slowly with the aid of his precum clouds your vision; you’re just as needy for him as he is for you.

“She’s a little brat”

“I guess I know how to make her listen”. Johnny lifts your dress over your hips, then helps you off of it through the hem. With a rehearsed flick of his fingers he discards your bra as well, leaving you completely naked for Donghyuck’s eyes to feast on. His hands immediately grope your breasts, playing with the mounds and putting on a show. “I could undress you over and over and over again”

You feel his fingers retract from inside your pussy to form a ‘V’ over your lower lips, making your hole even more visible along with the wetness that’s dripping out of it.

“Will you let Donghyuck use your pussy baby? I feel a little greedy using it all on my own”

You groan in the anticipation and let your head fall back on Johnny’s shoulder, nodding pathetically and mumbling through your thong.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yes”

Donghyuck has heard enough, and with Johnny urging him on he’s standing half naked in front of you in seconds. His boxers are discarded next to his trousers on the floor, tie hanging loosely from the collar. He still has a hand wrapped around his angry sex, red tip and veiny details making you swoon.

“Go on”, Johnny encourages him, “she’s more than wet enough”

Donghyuck rests his left knee on the cushion of the couch, right between your foot and Johnny’s thigh. A little foiled square is getting ripped by his nimble fingers and you bewitchedly watch him wrap up his cock. He slaps it over your entrance a couple times, coming in contact with the other man’s fingers that are still keeping you fully exposed, then finally thrusts himself inside you. A conglomerate of what seems like three different curses leave his lips, eyebrows furrowed in a pleasureful expression.

“Fuck”

“Tight, isn’t she?”

“So fucking tight baby, damn”

Johnny may have a cock so lengthy that most men are envious of, yet Donghyuck’s girth is really something else. It stretches you out more than you've had in months, dull pain getting numb with every release of serotonin from your brain. You almost cry when he removes the entire thing out of you.

“I have to feel that again”

And indeed he does, submerging himself in the tightness of your walls only his fingers had the privilege of experiencing thus far. You feel amazing wrapped up around him, pussy hot and burning in desire as he dips himself further inside you, pushing you up against Johnny’s chest. You hiss in the sting and whimper softly, prompting the man behind you to ungag you finally.

“What is it baby? Hyuckie’s dick is too big for your tight little hole?”

You nod affirmatively while keeping eye contact with the man mentioned, big glossy eyes awakening something dark inside him. He wants to ruin you.

“Maybe you don’t fuck her hard enough”

You can’t see Johnny from the way you’re seated but you know he must have a smile on his face, well aware of the confidence he possesses for his own abilities in the bedroom. His big hands leave your labia and make their way over to your calves, bending you in a way that is almost painful.

“How about you show me how it’s done, then?”

Donghyuck is always up for a challenge, so he wraps a hand loosely around your throat so as to gain leverage. He pulls his hips backwards, gaining momentum, then slaps them forcefully against your own. You moan loudly at the depth, hands scrambling to find something to hold on to as he’s nailing you against the couch. Johnny’s there to catch your sounds with his lips, eating them up eagerly as he slips his tongue inside you and continues to play with your nipples. 

“Is that hard enough for you?”

Continuing his brutal pace restlessly, Donghyuck tightens his grasp around your neck, enough to hamper your blood flow and drool around the other man’s mouth. You’re so out of it at this point, dirty sound after another leaving your lips and you gasp at Johnny’s fingers that are suddenly circling around your clit.

“I’m close, please”, you manage to whimper from between them, Hyuck’s pace only fastening in the sound of your plea. The tip of his cock, thick like the rest of him, grazes against your sensitive spot again and again, not missing a single thrust. He digs a thumb in the softness of your cheek, pulling you away from Johnny and connecting his forehead with yours. By the sounds of his grunts it won’t take long until he comes as well.

“Made just for me”, he whispers against your lips, and you gasp when you feel the heat overflowing in your sex area, vision blurry as you let go and scream in complete pleasure. Donghyuck basks in the confirmation of how good he’s made you feel, hips stuttering as he empties his cum in you and inside the condom. His thigh muscles may be contracting in tiredness yet he doesn’t halt his movements, milking your orgasm for all its worth. You’re basically putty in Johnny’s lap at this point, sex drunk and high from your release.  

“Not bad”, he admits, even though he had some credit to claim with the fast fingerwork he showed earlier. He holds your thighs again, closing them up to help you relax and you wince at the pain in your haunch, the result of staying in a flexibility-demanding position for so long.

You wait until your heartbeat slows down, turning around to face Johnny as Donghyuck ties up and discards the used condom. He sends you a warm smile, petting the messy hair out of your line of sight and you relax in the feeling of safety, batting your eyes up at him cutely.

“What about you?”, you practically meow, moaning softly as you feel his boner twitching from beneath his trousers.

“What about me? Didn’t you have enough?” 

He knows your appetite, knows there’s no way you’d be satisfied by one round only. And how could you, when he sits so deliciously from under you, his big body reeling you in. You know what he wants to hear.

“Please, Johnny”, you plead, playing with the thin tie still neatly keeping his shirt in place. “I need you”

“You need what?”, he growls against your lips, trying to coax as much desperation out of you as possible.

“I need your big cock inside me, please”

“Ass up”

You get up from your seat, complying with his commands and getting on your knees before your tired legs betray you and leave you a mess on the floor.  His hands cup your ass in admiration, giving it a little spank before he slides them over your dorsals. A careful push forces you to arch your back even more, and your cheeks burn at the eager position he has bent you in. You shiver when his cock enters you halfway.

“You’re still not used to me babe?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so fucking big, Johnny”

“Then maybe I should stay still? Since you can’t take it?”

“No!”, you oppose, tears of frustration threatening to spill out of their ducts, “I can take it, just move!”

You howl as he bottoms out, his long length making you lose your mind. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything more than his fingers and you’ve missed the way he fits inside of you. You hear shuffling from behind you and soon he’s bending over you, wrapping his tie around your neck. With a pull you’re flush against his chest again, and the buttons of his shirt are already leaving little indentations on your skin. You wish it bruises.

“Do you remember what I wanted you to call me the other day?”, he whispers next to the shell of your ear, dark tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Mr. Suh”

“Exactly. Now will you let me fuck you the way I want?”

“Yes sir”

“What a good girl”

Johnny slams into you fully, every pull of his hips resulting in the restriction of your airflow. A game of wanting more of him and sacrificing your oxygen for it begins, and it doesn’t take long for you to turn completely into a submissive mess for him. He’s whispering filth in your ears, hips keeping their inhuman tempo until you’re all out of energy and fall nonvocal. Donghyuck gets hard again at the sight.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Johnny, who is more than willing to share your body for the pleasure he’s after- at least part of it. He waits until the younger man’s dick is fully solid in his grasp, standing tall and red right in front of you and he lets go of the constraint of your neck without notice.

You fall face first on Donghyuck’s thick thighs, his quick reflexes catching you from a harder impact. His member is twitching right next to your face, tip grazing against your left temple and he helps your head up by wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail that his fingers hold together. You wrap your lips around his tip obediently, twirling your tongue around his member until you reach his hairy base. He tastes a bit rubbery from the condom earlier but you choose to ignore it, focusing on hollowing your cheeks around him instead.

Every hard thrust of Johnny’s propels you forward onto Donghyuck’s cock, the bobbing motion natural yet you struggle to take them both inside you. Donghyuck enjoys the vibrations of the moans you make when the other man hits a deep spot in your pussy, Johnny groans when you clench around him as Donghyuck abuses your throat. It’s a give and take of intense pleasure and you know you can’t take much more, the men’s moans growing louder with every thrust. 

“Do you like Hyuck’s cock needy baby? Have you finally had enough?”

He punctuates each word with a slam, one harder than the other, and the rope inside your belly snaps with the arrival of your second orgasm. You try your hardest to stay in place, beg your thighs not to let you collapse as you let Johnny drive you into overstimuation.

“Yes, sir. I love it”

Johnny grunts at the sound of his title, so dirty coming muffled by another man’s dick that it’s enough to send him over the edge. You feel the hot cum filling up the condom inside you, and his spurts take so long that the little tweaks coax another orgasm from you.

Donghyuck drinks up the scene unveiling in front of him, a steady hand forcing your jaw open as he starts to jerk off quickly over your face.

“I want to see your tongue covered in my cum”

You lick your lips seductively in response, opening your mouth up to welcome his ropes of white liquid that leave his slit a second after. They fill your mouth little by little, painting the inside of it and you hold your tongue out to show him his creation, a couple of drops dripping from the corners before you swallow as much as you can. He collects whatever’s left on your jaw, pushing it in and letting you suckle on his thumb dumbly before letting go.

You collapse on the couch, exhausted after giving all that your body could handle after a work day, and you sit in silence as Johnny massages your feet and Donghyuck kisses your neck to calm you down. Your head hurts from the sex and the possibilities that this new combination can bring to your love life, belly tingling in excitement at the same time. You don’t know where this will lead, or when will be the next time you’ll indulge in the company of the both of them stuck on your body. All that you know is that this promotion, at least the celebration of it, tastes really, really sweet. 

thank you for reading ❤ feedback is much appreciated! If you liked Promotion you can check out Work for it to see where it all started! :) 

[redbootsindoriath]

#but the actually fun reason is i've finally gotten to working on the costume i've been trying to put together for like two years now#the great part is i get a cool outfit out of it#the time consuming part is that i'm making myself sew EVERYTHING by hand including the seams for the sake of authenticity I would LOVE to hear about this if you'd want to talk about it?? I love sewing by hand (even if it takes forever)! Would you be willing to share pictures?

Oh wow, thanks for asking about this!  I can never be sure how many of my followers are reading the tags, so it’s cool to know that you are.  And I’ve been keeping this costume a secret for a while, so I’m excited to ramble a bit about it.

Okay so.  A couple of years ago I decided I wanted to try making a costume based off something I’d drawn, and I also wanted a Silmarillion costume, so I’m doing both at the same time and making the gold-hemmed green tunic that I’ve drawn Beleg in a few times.  It’s about half done at the moment, but I finally got the sleeves to sit right (only took me four days, RIP; as I said before, I’m no tailor) so I’m feeling confident enough to post this progress picture.  Pardon the ugly black background; I decided to erase the real background because it was kind of cluttered.  And you’re going to have to take me at my word that the fabric is green.  It turns kind of brown in warm toned lights and kind of grey in cool toned lights, and I took the picture in a room where the light was yellowish so that’s why it doesn’t exactly look green.

Eventually there will be a gold border around the sleeves and lower hem (probably embroidered but I’m saving that decision for the very end). The outer waist belt sits approximately where those three safety pins are, and there will be a total of five buttons above that line.

Ah, but then!  Once the tunic is done, I’ll only be about halfway finished with the whole outfit.  Sure I’ll have the big pieces (the tunic and trousers), but many of the little details that actually bring the whole look together (belts, pouches, bracers, gaiters/puttees/winnigas, etc.) have yet to be found/crafted.  The outer belt I’ll probably not be making myself since I have a stamped leather belt with moose and forest imagery on it and I think that’s dope as heck, and I have a buckled bracer that I was given last year which matches that belt, but everything else I’m pretty sure I can make myself.  We’ll see. I’m hoping to have the entire outfit completed by the end of the summer, but because I’ve been procrastinating for ages I’m starting to run out of time if I’m going to make that deadline.  As a wise man hobbit once said:

...but at least I’m working on it.  The thing I’m really dreading making is the bow and arrows because no matter how many tutorials you read and watch, you don’t have the skill to do it well until you’ve tried it yourself and messed up a few times, and also those are a bit important to the character so it’s kind of crucial that I do well on them.

Anyhow, this post has gotten pretty long now, so I’m going to leave the rest of my rambling in the tags.  Thank you again for asking about this!

[tyongxnct]

𝘗𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 - 𝘛𝘦𝘯

pairing: Ten x reader

summary: Your best friend finally became your boyfriend, but not longer after that, he got a once in a lifetime opportunity. Ten didn’t know If he should take the offer, you only started dating recently but you would never hold him back. Going to a dance school in New York City? You know how much Ten loves dancing and you also know that you could make this work. But after a couple months, your relationship was slowly falling apart. 

song: Pillow - Bebe Rexha

genre: bestfriends-to-lovers!au, long-distance!au, angst, smut, fluff

warnings: smut (that’s it i guess)

word count: 5.6k

A/N: I’ll probably take a song fic break after this one! I hope you enjoy this!! have fun reading :)

taglist: @aesthetichrj​, @bitchenderyy​, @bvbyxuxi​, @chitaphrrrr​

this is fiction!

© tyongxnct on all platforms

I just wanna kiss your face I just wanna feel your gaze I just wanna, I just wanna I just wanna be where you are I just wanna feel your touch I'm not asking for too much I just wanna, I just wanna I just wanna wake up where you are

You missed the way he kissed you. You missed the way he looked at you with so much adoration, you missed his touch on your skin.

You missed him, you missed Ten.

“I miss you.” You whispered, half asleep. You were facetiming Ten and it’s been almost two months since he left.

“I miss you more.” Ten smiled as he watched you slowly fall asleep.

“That’s not possible.”

Ten looked at you with those eyes again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so pretty.”

“Shut up.” You said shyly.

“But it’s the truth.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” And then you fell asleep. That was your routine. Facetime with Ten until you fell asleep.

Yes, you missed him and you would prefer to sleep next to him, but Ten was living his dream and his happiness was your happiness.

I used to think that love was just so easy But I couldn't be less right Yeah I finally found someone perfect, just for me Gotta fly thousands of miles, yeah

four months ago

“Why? Please tell me, why is it so hard to find the perfect guy? Is there not a single guy who’s interested in me? Am I going to die alone? Am I too ugly to be loved?” you cried out.

Ten sighed. He wanted to tell you so bad that you were the prettiest girl in the entire world and that he would love you forever, but he was just you’re best friend. You didn’t like him like that. Right?

“No you’re not, now shut up and focus on new girl.”

“Is it too much I’m asking for? I just want someone to love me. Like really love me. Am I not loveable?” you asked him.

You looked at the screen and watched Nick and Jess share their first (and absolutely amazing and passionate) kiss.

“I want what they have! Look at the way he kisses her! I want that, I need that!”

After watching a couple more episodes of new girl, Ten decided to go home. He wanted to kiss you so bad, he imagined it the whole time instead of focusing on new girl. “You can stay the night if you want to.” You told him.

“Nah, I should go home. Lucas texted me and asked me to take Bella out since he’s busy with whatever her name was.”

“Fine. Text me when you get home.” You hugged your best friend goodbye before he left and he hugged you back, a little longer than normal. You were standing in front of the door and just hugged each other.

A couple minutes later he left and you missed his touch.

With a sad sigh you closed the door and went to the kitchen. You wanted to drink something, but suddenly the doorbell rang.

“Did you forget-“

You opened the door and saw Ten standing there and before you could finish your question, Ten pressed his lips on yours to shut you up. You didn’t move at first, your head was spinning, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the fact that Ten, you’re best friend who you secretly loved more than anything else on this planet, kissed you with so much passion.

You pulled him closer as you put your arms around his neck. You were kissing him back and you accidently let out a moan when he put his tongue inside your mouth. You were never, ever kissed like this.

He softly pulled away to let you breathe again. Ten licked over his lips and stepped back.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You’re absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing you. I-I’m sorry If I just destroyed our friendship, but I need you to know how I feel about you. I don’t want you to date random men, I don’t want you to think that you are not enough, because fuck, you are. You are perfect and I want to love you like you deserved to be loved. If you let me.”

You looked at him with teary eyes. Ten, your best friend who you were crushing on for years, your best friend who helped you find cute outfits for your dates, even though he hated every second of you looking cute for another guy, your best friend who just confessed to you.

“I love you.” You blurred out.

Ten’s eyes widened.

“Shit, did I say it too soon?” you looked down to your feet.

“Fuck I love you too.” And without hesitation he pulled you closer to kiss you again, “I love you so much.” He said in between kisses.

That’s how your relationship started. He stayed the night and told Lucas to take care of Bella himself. He wanted to spend some time with his best- no, his girlfriend.

You were dating for three months now, and you can’t remember a time you were happier. You loved to go on dates with Ten, but you also loved the nights you had just dance battles at home. Ten always won, he was a dancer after all. Dancing was his passion, he loved it and he was the greatest dancer you’ve ever seen and when he told you about the school he wanted to apply to, you encouraged him to do it. One day, he got an email, but he was too scared to read it so he rushed over to your apartment.

“It’s going to be fine.” You assured him.

“C-Can you read it? Please?”

You smiled softly, “Sure.”

You opened the email and read it out loud, “Dear Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, I would like to congratulate you for winning a scholarship in our school-“

“Oh my god I’m in?” he couldn’t believe it.

“You are in! I knew you would make it!” you hugged him tightly and he hugged you back even tighter after he realized that he had to leave you.

“I can’t believe this.” He mumbled into your neck.

“I can! You deserve this so much, I’m so proud of you Ten.” You pressed a kiss on his shoulder before you pulled back to look him in the eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” He said sadly.

“What’s wrong. Why are you not smiling and dancing?” you smiled softly.

“I-It’s in New York. I don’t want to leave you, maybe I should refuse-” He said unsure but you interrupted him.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Ten, Baby, I love you and I promise you that everything is going to be fine. You worked so hard, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I’ll love you no matter where you are. We can make this work.”

You tried to stop yourself from crying so bad, you bit your lip almost too painfully.

“You are right. We’ll make this work. Thank you for believing in me.” He kissed every inch of your face, “You are the best girlfriend in this entire world. I love you so much.”

It took you so long to finally be with Ten and now you had a long-distance relationship. But your love was so strong, you could make this work. You promised each other to make this work.

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

Babe 03:23: Sorry baby, we practiced a little longer than usual. You’re probably sleeping right now, sweet dreams. I love you and I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.

You were actually still awake, you couldn’t fall asleep. You were worried and you missed him so much that you had to wait for an answer.

You threw the pillow you were hugging against the wall and sat up. You took your phone in your hand and smiled brightly as you called him on facetime. It’s been two minutes since he called, why did it take him so long to answer? You called him again and when he didn’t answer you texted him a simple good night and I love you.

You grabbed your pillow again and hugged it tightly. You tried to stop yourself from crying, but it was so hard. It’s been 7 months since Ten left, and the first couple months of your long-distance relationship was easy, you talked every day and texted often too, you would facetime before you would go to sleep and he would send you random pictures and videos of New York and his dance school so you would know about his lifestyle there.

But now he’s been pretty busy and you would talk maybe three times a week if he had time. He would answer your texts when you were asleep or not at all. Sometimes you were worried that he was overworking himself, but he assured you that everything was chill and easy. So why was he acting so distant?

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, you told yourself as you tried to fall asleep. You would try to call him tomorrow and tell him that you were sad and that you missed him. Communication is the key after all, but for now, you’d cry into your pillow and imagine it was Ten you were hugging.

I need a minute to breathe you in Just a second to taste your skin I just gotta, I just gotta Feel you here right next to me Can we please just go back in time Those lazy Sundays, you and I 'Cause every hour and every day Is more painful when you're away

It was the last night before Ten would leave for New York. You spend the last month everyday together, it was almost like he moved in with you, but you pushed back that thought to stop your heart from hurting.

“Is it tasty?” you asked him.

You had ordered some Pizza and he asked you if you wanted a piece. You refused at first but now you wanted some and he laughed at your cute acting and gave you his last two pieces. “No it’s too much.” You giggled. “Just eat it, we both know that you could finish another box of Pizza baby.”

“Well, that’s true.”

He put his head on your lap while you were eating the last piece of Pizza. “You look so hot from here eating that Pizza. Tomato sauce on your lips, wow, baby, I get hard just looking at you from here.” He joked and you slapped him softly.

“Don’t make fun of me or you can sleep on the floor.”

Ten pouted, “You wouldn’t do that.”

You spent the next hours just laying lazily on your couch and cuddling. You would miss nights like these the most, just being with him and talking about everything that came to your minds. You loved it and you loved him.

You didn’t notice him crawl between your legs as you laid against the armrest. “What do you think? Should we take this off?” he pulled on your shirt.

“Maybe we should.” You smirked, “And maybe you should take your shirt off too.”

And he did. He took off his shirt first before he slowly, teasingly took off yours. You were just wearing a shirt and panties and now you were almost completely naked under him. “You’re so hot.” You heard him say before he started kissing your boobs. His hand softly caressed your pussy over your panties.

Your nipples hardened instantly, your head fell back and you just enjoyed his tongue on your breasts. “It feels so good.” You moaned.

After giving enough attention to your other nipple, Ten stood up and carried you to your bedroom. “It’s going to be a long night.” He smirked at you.

After softly placing you on the bed, Ten pulled down your panties and kissed your inner thighs. He kissed his was to your already wet pussy and kissed it softly. You felt his tongue against your clit and you closed your eyes. He licked you so good and sucked on your clit, you were so close.

“Fuck, baby, It feels so fucking good.”

Ten fastened his pace and a couple seconds later you reached your first orgasm.

“Number one, more to go.” He said, his chin glistening with your arousal and turning you on.

You felt his fingers on your entrance and a second later he thrusted his fingers inside of you. His lips were on your nipples again and you gripped the sheets, his fingers slid in easily, you were so wet. “Fuck.” You could feel your second orgasm coming. “Tell me baby, what do you want?”

“I want to cum again- please Ten make me cum again.” You cried out.

You felt him go faster and when he hit that one spot, you reached your second orgasm. Ten put his fingers against your lips, “Suck.” He demanded and you sucked his fingers clean. “Good girl.”

“I want to suck you off- please Ten let me suck you off.” You begged him.

“Okay baby, show me how good you can take me inside of your mouth.” He pulled down his sweatpants and his boxers briefs and sat down on the edge of your bed. You got off the bed and got on your knees right in front of his hard cock.

You spat on your hand and wrapped your fingers around his shaft and started pumping slowly, “Don’t tease baby, or you’ll regret it.” He warned you.

You fastened your pace and started licking his tip. You licked on the slit, and slowly put his cock inside of your mouth. It’s not your first time sucking his cock, you knew what you had to do to make him feel good.

“Yeah just like that, feels so good baby.” He caressed your hair softly as you took him all the way down. His cock hit the back of your throat but you didn’t mind, you liked it actually and Ten loved it. “Fuck yes yes, just like that, love it so much.” He moaned out, you felt him twitch inside of your mouth.

You sucked his cock and softly played with his balls, you looked up and saw that he closed his eyes and bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed and face sweaty. You let out a moan after seeing him like that and the vibrations of your voice felt so good, he came. “Fuck, yes baby take it all and swallow.”

You did as he said, “Open up and show me.”

You opened your mouth and sticked your tongue out. “Good girl. Now baby, I want you to fucking ride me, okay baby?”

You nodded eagerly.

You sat down on his cock slowly and started riding him. It felt so good, you grabbed his shoulders to go faster. “T-Ten, I love your cock so much.” You cried out. Ten cupped your boobs and flicked your nipples, and you loved it when he played with your nipples. Ten wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you down so he could suck on your nipples. While he did that, he fucked up into you, meeting your hips. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other was like music to your ears.

“So fucking tight, didn’t I fuck this pussy enough?” you clenched at his words.

You felt your legs arching and you felt like you were collapse on top of him, “T-Ten I can’t p-please take over.” And he did.

Within a second he turned your around and took you from behind. You were on all fours as he stared ramming his cock inside of you. His hand found your clit and he started rubbing and circling it with his fingers. “Gonna cum baby? Hm? Cum all over my cock?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, feel so good. I’m so fucking close.”

You clenched once again and encouraged Ten to go even faster and harder with his thrusts. “I’m gonna fill you up, you’re going to take all of my cum, okay baby?”

“Yes please, cum in me.”

And with the next thrust, you came. You moaned as you clenched and rode out your third orgasm, you were so sensitive but it still felt good. You clenched around him once again and Ten came and painted your walls white.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He moaned as he slowed down and pulled his cock out of you. He watched his cum mixed with yours drip out of you. “So fucking hot.” He got hard again.

That night, you had so many orgasms. His hands, his mouth and his cock bought you to heaven. He fucked you hard and fast but also slow and full of passion.

I used to think that love was just so easy But I couldn't be less right, yeah

“I’ll miss you so much.” You told him that night before he left.

“I’ll miss you too, but we’ll make this work. I trust in us. We’ll talk every day and text and I’ll come visit you and you’ll come visit me too.” Ten said convinced that long-distance was going to work.

“I love you so much, never forget that okay.”

It could work. You could make this work. You were absolutely sure that you and Ten could make a long-distance relationship work. He was your best friend before you started dating, he would never hurt you and you would never hurt him and you trust him with your life.

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

It’s been almost two weeks since you last facetimed Ten. Yeah, you texted once in a while but it’s been so long since you talked and just be there for each other. You talked to him a month ago about feeling lonely and missing him and he promised you to make more time for you, but the last two weeks you barely talked.

You didn’t want to be clingy and suffocate him, so you waited for him to text you first. But every passing minute broke your heart more and more. You knew that he found new friends, but you would never doubt his faithfulness.

You closed your eyes and hugged your pillow tightly. Every night, you pretended that it was Ten you were hugging and not just your pillow. You missed his touch so much, you missed to kiss him and just hug him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to hear his voice. It was past midnight in New York but you didn’t care a t that moment.

“Yes?” you heard him yell. At least he answered.

“Ten? Can you hear me?” The other line was so loud, you raised your voice a little.

“What is it Y/n?! I’m busy!” you could hear loud music and people laughing around. “Busy? What are you doing?” it didn’t sound like he was busy.

“I’m out with some friends, look, I told you I’ll call you. Can’t you let me breathe for one day?” he said. Ten sounded annoyed and you could imagine how he rolled his eyes.

“It’s been two weeks since you said you’ll call! I let you breathe, but I was so worried, I just wanted to hear you voice-“

“You heard my voice, can I hang up now?”

You gasped, he sounded so cold, so annoyed and even distracted and before he could, you hung up.

You fell asleep crying. Once again.

Ten never apologized for that night and you never bought it up. It’s like talking to a wall. It took him a couple days to call you and he acted like that night never happened, like he never talked like he had enough of you.

The worst thing was yet to come.

Your one-year anniversary.

You reminded him one day before, that you would facetime, eat something together, watch a movie and just spend time together.

You waited and waited, but he never called.

You called him four times, texted him ten times, but he never answered and when you checked his Instagram story, you weren’t even surprised.

Ten was partying again. Ten ditched you to party on your one-year anniversary.

You realized that you were holding onto something that was long gone. It was over. It should be over. You were done with him, you were heartbroken and you regretted every decision you made. Maybe you should’ve stayed friends, maybe you would be happier and not suffering.  

And I can't lie, babe, I'm losing my patience Too much waiting for you Every time that I wake up My hands go where I'm waiting for you I know I say that I'm fine But I'm losing my mind Just need to hold you Don't take your time Oh, baby

The next day, you had fifteen missed calls from Ten, but you decided to ignore him for a while and sort your thoughts. He texted you every day, apologizing and asking for forgiveness. Ten told you about his day even though you never texted back. You hated to be like this, but you needed space. You called him one week later and he answered immediately.

“H-Hi.” Ten whispered nervously.

“Hey.” You mumbled.

“How… how have you been?” Ten wanted to punch himself. How could he ask you that? He knew that you were feeling sad.

“Okay I guess.” You tried to hold back you tears.

“Look about-“

“I can’t do this anymore.” You just said it. You’ve been thinking about it for the past months actually, but you never thought you would get to this point. You never thought you would want to break up.

“W-What? N-no, no no no please Y/n. Look I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry that I missed our anniversary, but please don’t do this-“

“It’s not just the anniversary! Everything is too much for me. You ignore me and you yell at me for caring and being worried a-and you ditched me so many times and o-our anniversary- you, fuck, you were out having fun while I was waiting for you! You tell me that you’re going to call, but you never do and when I call you because I miss you, you yell at me and call me annoying!”

You didn’t want to cry, but it was so hard not to.

“I-I’m sorry. I am really so fucking sorry. Y-You didn’t deserve all that, I fucked up. I promised to be there for you b-but-“ he stopped. You could hear him sniff and try to hold back his tears. Ten rarely cried, like, you saw him cry maybe one time.

“But?”

“But I was so overwhelmed with this city and with this school and dancing. I can’t lose you. You’re my everything. I’ll change! I’ll be a better boyfriend, but please, don’t leave me.” He cried out.

“I-It’s not that easy. Y-You broke my heart. I trusted in us, b-but maybe we aren’t meant to be.”

“No, no. No, don’t say that- you know that’s not true, you know that I love you more than anything. You are the most important person in my life.”

“Seems like I’m not as important as you think I am. I don’t want to be the reason you stop focusing on what’s important and that’s your dance school. That’s New York and m-my feelings are important too. I… I can’t remember the last time I was genuinely happy. I’m sorry, Ten. I’m really sorry.”

And before he could start talking again, you hung up. You broke out in tears, you clutched your heart and tried to keep it from exploding, but you felt the little piece stab your insides. Ten wasn’t doing any better. He cried and cried and regretted all of his choices, he regretted leaving you and moving to New York. He regretted ignoring you, he regretted leaving you on read. He regretted everything. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time and be a better boyfriend. A boyfriend you deserve, someone who makes you feel loved and not someone who hurts you.  

I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though I'll be alright, just one more night I'll be just fine, holdin' my pillow Pretending it's you though

It’s been a couple days since you talked to Ten. You had blocked him everywhere and you tried to ignore the pain in your heart. It was harder to break up and block him, but it was the only way to stop your suffering. You couldn’t let him treat you like that forever.

You couldn’t focus on anything. It was almost like he followed you everywhere. One day your mother send you pictures of prom and Ten was your date. You went as friends but you just realized that he looked at you with so much love in his eyes. His arm was around your waist and you looked at each other and smiled brightly. Then, you wanted to watch some Netflix and Netflix recommended you Step up. A movie about dancing. How ironic. Even the number Ten made you so sad and emotional.

Almost a week later, you got ready for bed. You were brushing your teeth when you heard the doorbell. Who could it be at this hour? You tiptoed and looked through the spy. Your jaw dropped when you saw his face.

“I can hear you breathing. Please open the door, I want to see your face. I missed you so much.”

You slowly opened the door and looked at him with teary eyes, he was about to step closer but he stood still, his body froze and his heart hurt. You weren’t doing any better. It’s been a year since you saw his pretty face and now he was standing right in front of you. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, just pull him closer and never let go again, but you were also frozen.

“I-I can’t be without you. Tell me to stay and I will.” He said and he looked absolutely serious.

You pulled him closer and hugged him as tightly as you could. Ten wrapped his arms around you pressed kisses on your hair. “I’ll do it, I’ll leave New York and come back to you. I just need you. I love you so much, Y/n.”

You sobbed and cried and it was so hard to breathe but you couldn’t stop yourself from crying harder. “I love you too, but I don’t want you to do t-that. I don’t want you to stop living your dream. I love you so much, but I won’t let you do that.”

“B-But I don’t want to lose you.” Ten whispered and caressed your hair softly.  “Please forgive me, please. I was dumb, so fucking dumb. I didn’t realize how I treated you. I didn’t see that you were hurting and I promise you I’ll be better, I can’t lose you ever again. Please give me a second chance to make this right.”

You nodded and it felt so unreal to hold him in your arms. You waited for this moment for so long and he was finally in your arms. Seeing him helped you realize that you couldn’t be without him, that you needed your best friend, the love of your life.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

You were cuddling under the blankets as Ten softly played with your hair, your head was on his chest. He also left kisses on your forehead, on your nose, on your lips, on every inch of your face and hands. Your hands were locked and he would never let go again.

“How did you even come? Don’t you have any classes to attend?” you asked him as you pecked his lips.

“I’ll just skip a few days, I won’t miss anything. Don’t worry about that.” He smiled softly.

Ten started drawing circles on your soft skin and you did the same on his chest. You looked up at him and pressed your lips on his, not just a simple peck. A kiss with so much longing and passion. A kiss to show him how much you missed him.

His hand slowly travelled to your waist and then to your ass. He squeezed it softly and pulled you on top of him, not breaking the kiss.

You moved your hips and his hands caressed the skin under your shirt. You broke the kiss for a second to get rid of your shirt. You weren’t wearing anything under your shirt and Ten cupped your breast with one hand and cupped your cheek with the other to kiss you again. He pinched your nipple and you let out a moan.

You could feel him slowly hardening and your hand found his belt. You unbuttoned his jeans and grabbed his shirt to take it off. You placed wet kisses on his chest and next thing you knew, you were under him.

Ten sucked on your boobs and pinched your nipples while he was busy pulling down your sweatpants and underwear. You were completely naked under him now and he kissed his way to your pussy. He parted your legs with his hands and you wanted to close them again, you were shy but then you remembered that this was Ten and you parted your legs even wider.

Ten softly kissed your pussy and then he ate you out like a starving man. He sucked on your clit and when he inserted two fingers inside of your wet cunt, you lost it. You tried to hide your moans but you couldn’t, your grip around the sheets tightened and you could see the stars, you can’t even remember the last time you had an orgasm, that’s why you came embarrassingly fast. You couldn’t hold back and came all over his fingers. “I’m cuming, fuck, feels so good.”

Ten didn’t stop playing with your clit, even after you came and you were so sensitive, you almost came again but he stopped and crawled back up to kiss you. “I love you.” He mumbled before he pulled his boxers down.

“I love you- so much.”

He was rock hard already and ready to be inside of you. He didn’t need you to suck him off, he just needed to be inside of you.

“I missed fucking you, I missed your tight little cunt so much.” And before you could answer that you missed him fucking you too, he rammed his cock inside of you. You moaned so loud, you hoped the neighbors wouldn’t hear you, but you wouldn’t hold back- you were feeling way too good to shut up.

“Fuck me, fuck me please.”

And he did.

Ten fucked you hard and fast, he gripped your hips tightly and fucked you deep, hitting the right spot and making you lose your mind. You clenched around him and he could feel himself getting closer. He looked you deep in the eyes and your boobs bounced up every time he moved his hips. He loved how fucked out you looked, so pretty and innocent.

“L-Let me ride you, please-“ you moaned out and who was he to refuse? He loved seeing you on top him.

You were riding him now, he gripped your hands again to thrust up. He couldn’t take away his eyes from your boobs or your face. You threw your head back, you felt your second orgasm nearing and feeling his hands on your boob, pinching your nipples turned you even more on.

“I’m gonna cum, gonna cum-“ and you came and Ten couldn’t hold back and he shot his cum inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

You moved your hips to ride out your orgasms and you collapsed on top of him. Ten pulled his cock out of your cunt and then he got up to bring a warm towel to clean you up. After he was done cleaning you up, he got into bed and pulled you up to his chest. You were naked under the covers but you didn’t mind, his body was warm and cozy.

“I love you.” He placed a kiss on your temple.

“I love you too.” And you fell asleep in the arms of the love of your life.

Your relationship was even stronger than before. After Ten left for New York again, you were scared that it wouldn’t work out, but it did. He was always there for you and you were always there for him. You visited him on Valentine’s day and he visited you on your birthday. Your love grew and before you could realize that you’ve been dating for three years, you were packing your stuff to move out of your apartment.

Yes, you were moving to New York, to your boyfriend and you’ve been thinking about this for months now and it was the best decision you’ve ever made. You’re living with your best friend, who became your boyfriend, in New York City.

Baby (14:24): SPOTTED! The love of my life in Starbucks, with an iced coffee in her hand. Who is she waiting for? Perhaps her boyfriend? Stay tuned. XOXO gossip girl.

You laughed out loud in Starbucks as you read the text Ten just sent you. You laughed a little too loud, a couple looked at you and you apologized for laughing so loud.

Ten entered Starbucks and kissed you on the lips. “Babe, gossip girl? Really?” you giggled and wrapped your arms around him. “You know you love me.”

And that was the truth. “You’re right.”

[nothing-but-dreamy]

BLACK TIE

A/N: Thanks again for this idea @mindlessstories

I hope you have fun with it

Pairing: LEON KENNEDY x READER

Words: 1.736

Warnings: fluff, cursing, Leon in a suit

Synopsis: Yn and Leon are on a mission with fancy clothes. But somehow the mission is not the most interesting thing...

"W-What the bloody... What are you wearing?", Yn asked as she checked the appearance of the man in front of her. The guy was neatly dressed in a white suit shirt, black suit pants and a black jacket. Even a black tie was bound around the man’s neck. Quickly, Yn checked the number of the hotel room once again in fear she had mistaken it and might stand in front of some stranger. No, it was the right room and actually, it was also the right guy. It was just … even if it was part of the mission, Leon S. Kennedy had swapped his typical, casual leather jacket with a tuxedo. It was a sight for sore eyes. Unusually and at the same time, perfectly fitting as if Leon would be some kind of secret undercover supermodel instead of an agent.

Leon, amused about Yn’s big eyes and astonished expression, chuckled and stepped aside, letting his partner in who was still watching him as if he would be an alien. A handsome one but still. Leon closed the door, "It's a tuxedo. That's what you wear on a bow and tie event.", he explained and watched how Yn rolled with her eyes.

“I know what it is but to see you in it… and by the way! Black Tie, Kennedy! It’s called Black Tie! And not ‘bow and tie’.”, Yn explained for maybe the hundredth time since they both got assigned to this secret mission. In fact, the job was easy. A rich weapons dealer had started to ‘extend’ his sortiment with some BOWs. His business was flourishing. But instead of just catching him, Yn and Leon had decided it would be better to bug the dealer to get information about his clients as well. Therefore, they were able to dig out the whole nest.

“I don’t care what these events are called. They’re all the same. It’s just to show off how rich and important everyone is.”, Leon said and leant with crossed arms against the doorframe.

“I know how much you hate these things.”, Yn said, grabbed her bag and aimed for the bathroom to change her outfit as well, “But I have to admit, you look good in this tuxedo. It suits you.”, she said through the half closed door.

Leon smirked, “Oh, really? You know, maybe you could show me how much you like my outfit?”, he asked flirtatiously.

Yn opened the door again and stepped out, “Focus on the mission, Kennedy.”

Leon was hearing her words but his mind went kinda blank as he saw her robed in a floor-length, backless, black dress. The silky-soft fabric hugged all her curves perfectly and gave much input for many, many x-rated fantasies. Slowly, Leon’s eyes wandered upwards until he met her challenging glance. Slowly, he stepped forward with a smirk, “I might hate these events but I could get used to seeing you working in such a stunning outfit.”, Leon said low.

Yn saw dirty thoughts glittering behind his steel-blue eyes and smirked, “Take a picture, it might last longer. Come, we have to go.”, she said, passed Leon and knew that he was staring at her back all the way.

**

Thirty minutes later, Yn and Leon were entering a huge, pompous decorated ballroom. Chandeliers bathed the room in dim, atmospheric light. Soft jazz music played in the background. And obviously a whole diamond mine had exploded because it was sparkling and twinkling in each corner. The room was filled with high-society and in the middle of it two special agents who tried to fit into this kind of world.

“Shall we split up?”, Leon asked low.

Still with a wealthy smile on her lips, Yn shook her head, “Let us take a round together and then, if necessary, we split up.”, she said and linked her arm with Leon’s.

The idea had been good but quickly, they had to admit that the room was too stuffed with people. And because they searched for a guy, and everyone looked kinda the same in their black suits, they had difficulties finding their subject.

Evading into a quiet corner, Yn looked up at Leon, “That’s not working. There are too many people here. Alright, we split up. I walk around a bit. You could monitor the guys who are without women like the group over there at the bar.”, she said and nodded unobtrusively into the said direction while putting a small intercom into her ear to activate it and gave Leon the other earpiece who mirrored her move. With a serious expression, her eyes met Leon’s, “If one of us finds him, the other one comes to the position.”, she said and was about to leave.

Leon held her back, “Be careful, okay?”, he said and looked her caringly but serious in the eyes.

She smirked, “Of course. I’m not the one with the reckless moves like fighting against infected dogs on a motorbike.”, and with that, she stepped back to vanish in the crowd.

Leon chuckled about her boldness and shook his head before he followed her idea to aim for the bar. He ordered a drink and while waiting for it, Leon looked left and right to check out the people around him if their target would be with them. Leon was just about to check an older man with salt-and-pepper hair as fragments of a conversation waved over to him, catching his attention.

“These women are all the same. Rich, wealthy and absolutely boring.”, one tall man said before taking a sip of his Whiskey.

“Yeah, or ugly. I mean, how many surgeries are really necessary? I get the impression that all these women here are just made out of plastic and silicone.”, another man said. He was a bit smaller than the first one.

Leon was just about to leave as the third guy said something that caught his attention to the point that he fully turned over to them, “You might be right except with this pretty thing over there. What? None of you haven’t seen her yet? Okay, then, she’s mine.”, the guy said and let it sound as if the woman was just a piece of meat and he was the lion to hunt it down.

Leon knew he had to focus on the mission and he really was about to leave the group of idiots behind but then, he noticed the way how the guy looked at the unaware victim. It was a lust filled glance that even Leon felt disgusted by the sight. The guy was pretty sure about himself that he would be successful to win the woman over this evening. The guy, tall, dark haired and looking like a lot of money, licked over his lips while his eyes showed that he looked at a point that was lower than the woman’s waist. Now more interested in who the innocent lamb might be, Leon followed the guy’s glance and felt how his blood ran hot and cold at the same time.

Yn stood there, talking with an older lady and facing the group of guys with her back. The dress gave a beautiful sight of her flawless skin. While she talked, her body moved beautifully and she even swayed a bit to the soft tune of the music so that her hair fell over her bare back, dancing a little through the air.

“You can’t have her! I saw her first. I just couldn’t say anything because I became speechless by her eyes.”, the first, tall guy said.

“By her eyes? Forget them! Look at her god damn ass. So round and juicy.”, the guy said and his eyes became filled with raw, sexual hunger.

That was enough for Leon to forget the mission for a moment as he walked over to the group, “I couldn’t miss hearing how you were talking about this young lady.” Leon said low, getting the attention of all three men at the same time, “Stay away from her. All of you. Or otherwise, things will turn ugly.”, he said with a kind of threat lingering in his voice.

One of the men stepped closer to Leon, slightly towering over the agent and looking down, “Who do you think you are, huh? Nothing we do is your concern.”

Not impressed at all, Leon stepped forward, holding the man’s glance, “She’s mine, get it? Therefore, yes, it concerns me how you are talking about her. So, do yourself a favor and stay away from her or I will become your worst nightmare. And trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”, Leon said threateningly, leaving no room for any further arguments.

The guy stared at Leon for several more moments and considered his best next step but in the end, the guy saw something in Leon’s eyes that told him to better back off. And after another few seconds, the guy stepped back, nodded to his friends and disappeared somewhere else.

Leon went back to his drink and emptied it in one big sip. As he placed the glass back on the counter, Yn stood already next to him, leaning against the bar with a smirk on her lips, "So, I'm yours, huh?", she asked low.

With a shock filled glance, he stared at her and swallowed thickly, "Oh, uhm... Well... I- I didn't like the way he looked at you.", he stammered with an apologetic glance.

Yn nodded, "Yes, I heard that.”, she said, tapping at her ear with her index finger to remind him of the intercom. As Yn saw his awkward smile, she stepped forward, “You know, to see you jealous and protective was kinda cute. But it was unnecessary, don't you think? I'm not your girlfriend."

Leon also stepped forward, a smirk was playing on his lips while he snaked his arm around her waist to bring her even closer, "Actually, we're just one date away that I can call you mine."

"Oh, really? Then, I would say we count this evening as a date, what do you think?", Yn suggested whispering against his lips which were just inches away.

"Deal.", Leon breathed before he kissed her. It was a deep kiss. Filled with hunger to show off to whom Yn belonged to. Yn tugged on his suit jacket to bring him even closer, knowing exactly where these clothes would land later this evening…

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[okaybutlikeimagine]

A Father’s Day Triptych

TW: past/referenced child abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, child neglect

(you can find it on AO3 here ♥)

Father’s day in the Hargrove household was always pulled taut with expectations of kindness and submission hanging over Billy’s head.

They didn’t always used to be that way. When he was a kid, Father’s days felt like a reprieve rather than a burden. Billy and his mom would prepare special things- a nice card that would make him laugh, those new fishing poles he’d been eyeing in the big sporting store a town over, a pretty cake with fresh fruit on top from the grocer down the way. His mother went all out. She’d get Billy all excited for it too. The strenuous relationships were softened for a day where they did everything they could to make him happy.

They really did… everything they could just to make him happy. Sometimes Billy still wonders why it had to take so much.

Around Father’s day, his mother would use all her spending money to make his father smile. It usually worked. And for that day, it was so good. It could hardly get better. Grilling and watching stupid baseball games Billy never cared about but would pretend to be interested in, just for him. Fake smiles almost became real. Hot dogs and hamburgers and watermelon always tasted better on those days when his father would put his arm around Billy amicably- when he would laugh at the card and compliment how Billy’s penmanship was getting better every year.

The year that she left was the worst.

The year that she left Billy stopped getting an allowance. He had no money to soften the edges of his father with fresh cakes and fancy presents. He panicked. He stole a stupid fishing keychain from a store and made a card from his school notebook paper. He presented them with shaking hands to his father who seemed glued to the couch, eyes bloodshot, surrounded by beer cans, baseball game so loud Billy’s ears felt sore.

He got a grunt and a lazy eye roll in response. A slurred groan of “your writing is sloppy”. A quieter admission of regret.

He got resentment. Billy was 9 and he knew it was resentment towards his very existence. He slid away to his room. There was no dinner to eat that night as his father passed out on the couch with the TV still on far too loud.

When Susan and Max came into the picture, Billy miraculously found a reason to be happy for it. Suddenly there was pressure taken off of him. He let Max know it too, as Susan encouraged them to go out and “at least get him a card”. They’d lazily look through all the forcibly funny and generic pieces of paper. Max was nervous that first year.

“It’s whatever.” Billy had grunted, looking through ugly green cards with stupid phrases on them. “She’s gonna bang him tonight, he won’t care about a dumb card.”

“Ew.” Max had whined, covering her ears and pouting. Billy couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It was never fun. Billy felt like he was on a leash all day long, obligated to do everything he could for his father just to keep him civil. Susan made a steak, the kids handed over the card, his father remarked how his penmanship was the mark of someone lazy and sloppy (no matter how hard Billy would try to make it as neat as he possibly could), and the day would end. And he could stop thinking about how this man still had a hand in his life.

…

Father’s day in the Hopper household was always bumbling and awkward.

By the time that first one came around, Billy was just beginning to feel less like a burden to the house and more like an addition. He’d found comfort in the space they all shared. They had a sort of routine set between all of them. There was still no second bed for Billy, so he still felt like he was imposing when Hop slept on the couch, but it was a sort of pull out couch by that point and Hop insisted and Billy decided not to pay it too much mind.

And that first Father’s day was just… awkward. Billy had completely forgotten the date- summer had just started for him and days were rolling by in hot and languid and lazy moments of feeling out every new situation. He had just started getting really serious with Steve. Not just touching for the sake of getting off but really starting to need and want each other in ways that scared him. In ways that made him want to keep things how they were- ways that made him scared to change a thing. It was a new and alien feeling for him.

El had inadvertently learned about Father’s day from Mike when he briefly groaned about dinner plans his family had. Billy found that out from El on their drive to the store to pick something up for Hop. She had to convince Billy it was a thing they should do, because Hopper was their father. He did fatherly things for them. He took them in and gave them a roof and food and asked how their days were and wished them goodnight and good morning, however groggily. He made stupid jokes that made them moan and he danced horribly to the old records he kept on their dusty shelf and he was horrible with laundry and he whistled as he did dishes.

He introduced Billy proudly in the grocery store once. It was the weekend after Billy had a really good basketball game that Hop had decided to attend. Hop bragged about it to some friend of his. Billy flushed red and elbowed him and tried his best to escape.

He thought about it every single day.

Billy and El bought a large cheesy balloon, ingredients to make a nice lasagna dinner, and a green and white cake from the bakery. The balloon was more for El. The lasagna was a little burnt. Hop was too nice to say he’d have preferred pie to cake, but he ate it anyway as they sat around the TV and watched whatever program was on. Billy only remembered as he fell slowly into sleep that night. He jolted awake quickly, remembering a sort of far off conversation months ago where Hop had proclaimed confidently that pie was the superior dessert of anything else- yes, even Eggo's with whipped cream and sprinkles. How he admitted cake was never his favorite.

Billy felt shame overcome him as he remembered, pushing himself out of bed and turning to the sofa with the immediate want to apologize for it. He wasn’t sure what came over him.

But instead of sending pleading apologies into the darkness, he just looked towards the sofa with a heavily beating heart and let his eyes adjust. And he thought about all that man had done for the two of them. Thought about how he took in these two stray kids. Thought about how he knew Hop was getting flack for it, because Billy heard the whispers and the snickers and the sneers about Hop running a dog pound. Thought about how he gave up his probably comfier trailer for the rundown cabin, gave up the main bedroom for the dusty spare bed, gave up the dusty spare bed for the couch, gave up parts of his sanity probably…

Billy didn’t wanna apologize anymore. He just whispered a thanks, even though it was hard to push up through his throat and would fall onto sleeping ears.

The Father’s days after that first one got better. They got Joyce, and along with her 2 boys that had their own rocky past with fathers and celebrations of them. Just four kids who feared and resented father figures. It ended up being better than Billy could imagine. It was never quite as awkward as that first Father’s day, but never quite comfortable either. That being said, it was never a bad day. The bar was low, but that didn’t matter. Billy found appreciation for the general ease all the same.

…

Father’s day in the Hargrove-Harrington-”whatever we’re together now and that’s what’s most important” household is filled with guilt and feelings of imposter syndrome.

They don’t celebrate it the first two or so years after they’ve adopted their first child. He’s just a toddler, he doesn’t quite understand yet what it is. And they… they’re still struggling with what it means to be fathers. They’re confident in their rights but they’re not immune to the judgmental voices, always eyeing them oddly when they’re out together with their boy or asking after the mother when they’re out separately. Always looking a little judgmental or harsh when they have to explain why the kid doesn’t look like them- whoever is with him at the time. Or getting looks of pity when the people clearly begin to assume it’s because they couldn’t get pregnant with whatever wife must be at home.

It’s hard to hear. It makes them question everything. If their boy doesn’t know what he’s missing, then there’s no need to explain.

Billy calls Hopper and feels his heart lurch when Hop and Joyce wish him and Steve a happy father’s day. They do it with joy and certainty. As if it belongs to them, too. Billy hangs up the phone and lays in bed for at least half an hour. Steve can’t get through to him.

It’s an odd feeling. A rough feeling. When they adopt their second child, a girl of 9 years old, they know they’re going to have to confront it. Their son begins school that year too. They find out about the day from their friends and television ads and store windows. The children are timid with them- they were adopted as supposed “problem children” from rough homes and tumultuous pasts. Billy and Steve don’t expect anything of them but they’re still not sure how to explain that. They figure ignoring is easier than explaining. Maybe it’ll make it go away.

It doesn’t work well.

And Billy… Billy’s just struggling being a dad. He couldn’t explain the job if he tried. He helps make lunches, he gives timeouts, he buys and subsequently sneaks himself some silly little snack foods when he’s hungry and busy and doesn’t have time to do more than rip open a pouch. He deals with tantrums over vegetables and he wipes mouths with napkins and he sings lullabies in the wrong key and he reads bedtime stories until he himself dozes off in the tiny bed with a small head on his chest and drool pooling onto his shirt.

He’s trying. He gets frustrated at stores. He gets a little hot headed, a little loud. His heart breaks when they cry. He’s straddling the line between being a pushover and a hard-ass. He lays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, dreading ever becoming like Neil. He asks Steve, in the stillness of the night when the darkness acts as the weight of every horrible outcome imaginable, if he’ll follow Neil’s wretched footsteps.

“You’ll never be like him, Billy.”

“How do you know? What if it’s inside me already.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it is… maybe I won’t be able to help it.”

He stresses and he struggles and he wants to rip his hair out.

But that first father’s day comes around with their new daughter and newly knowledgeable son. And the two children blunder around the kitchen while their two dads are asleep. And then they wake the two parents up, both teary eyed and breathing heavy, faces full of apology and sorrow, asking for help to clean up the mess.

And Billy and Steve find the kitchen a single step back from full on disaster. There’s juice all over the counter and dripping onto the floor, the cereal box is all soggy from it, the toaster is smoking, a plate is broken on the ground, the fridge is still open. Their daughter pulls on Billy’s pajama pants and holds out her finger that’s bleeding. He gets out of her that she somehow managed to cut it on the butter knife she was using to cut up some fruit.

Steve gets busy cleaning things up. He asks their son to help do smaller things like close the fridge and grab some towels.

Billy takes his daughter’s small soft hand into his large, rough one and plants a kiss on it. It sends something like pure love surging through his heart. He guides her to the bathroom to put a bandaid on it and asks if she’s okay.

“Mmhm.” She nods and his heart softens. She sniffles. “M’sorry. We wanted… wanted to make breakfast and w-wanted to do something nice.”

She sounds like the weight of the world is on her small shoulders. Billy sees himself at 9 years old, doing his damnedest to get anything close to a damn smile out of his father while he sat unresponsive and unamused on the couch.

His heart yearns. It breaks and it pulls and it screams and it shouts. He pulls her in close and hugs her tight and tries to find the right words. Tries to tell her it’s made his entire year. It’s made him feel validated and happy and worth it, like all of that stress is worth it just to know that these two children got up early as hell on a Sunday morning just to surprise their fathers. Just to surprise the two of them. Just to say they thought of them, wanted to give them something, wanted to make them feel special.

“It was nice.” Is all he can croak out through his froggy throat.

“It’s a mess.” She sobs, but he just grips her arms tighter.

“It was wonderful.” He says and he’s crying too. He can’t get the tears to stop. He’s kneeling on the bathroom ground, the two of them crying to each other.

And Billy swears he’ll never get good at the father thing. He has talks with Hop about it, when he’s feeling vulnerable and Hopper’s able to get it out of him. By this point they’ve adopted another child- an older boy, a teenager. He’s rough and he’s jaded. He listens to loud, angry music. He kind of picks on the other two kids, even though he’d jump in front of a bus for either one of them. Hop asks how he likes it.

“He’s a lot like you were, y’know.” Hop tells Billy, who still doesn’t really see it.

Steve doesn’t have as much of a problem with the boy as Billy does. Billy and him just never seem to see eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re the same people.” Hop insists. Steve agrees. Joyce affirms with pity. “You clash.”

They clash hard. They get into yelling matches. Billy never puts a hand on him, but the arguments aren’t exactly great. Billy cries to Steve at night, fear shaking him down to his core, still able to see and hear himself yelling at that boy who fights tooth and nail back with him.

“You’re not a bad person, Billy.”

“Why do I do that shit?” He asks, knowing full well no one but him could ever really know.

It’s not like it’s anything too vitriolic. It’s not like it’s anything really poisonous.

It’s over the fact that he stays out too late at night, and Billy gets worried. It’s the fact that Billy found cigarettes in his room and he knows the bad effects of cigarettes. It’s the fact that he pushed his little brother one day and made him scrape his knee and he needed to learn some boundaries. It’s the fact that he lied about his grades when Billy felt they gave him no reason to do such a thing.

It’s fatherly things. That’s what Hop assures him as Billy cries on the phone with him.

“It’s things I would have done with you.”

Billy never ever knows what to make of that. What to make of what he’d be like now if Hop was his father from the start. If Hop was there from the beginning. If Neil hadn’t made him a monster in his own image.

Billy does his best to get through to him. Get through to his son now because he’s his son now.

Billy feels like the worst, most undeserving father.

As the kids have gotten older, they learned better ways to celebrate father’s day. They learn breakfast in bed isn’t really what the two of them would prefer- a nice lunch and getting to spend some time with them sounds better. A homemade card always goes on the mantle or the fridge with the rest of the collection. A few hugs because those are like treasured gifts in this house with kids who have a history of boundary and trust issues with parental figures.

The older son catches Billy alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Billy replies awkwardly back. The silence is jarring.

“I uh… uhm.” He’s struggling. Billy wants to do something more than just stand here, but he’s not sure what. He doesn’t want to push anything too far. He wants to be good at this.

The boy puts a small, wrapped box on the counter with an envelope underneath and slides it over.

“Happy Father's day.” He mumbles, suddenly fidgeting.

Billy stares at them.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

There’s another pause, heavy with all the weight and worry in Billy’s heart. He reaches for the box, rips the paper open easily, lifts up the lid.

“It’s uh… it’s just a couple tapes of some of those… bands you like. And talk about. All the time.” The boy snickers, but it catches in his throat. He’s so nervous. “My friend’s family was getting rid of a bunch of their tapes and I know you’ve got your old tape player still so… uh… yeah.”

It’s a mixed bag of absolute classics. Some tapes he used to have, others he’s always wanted. Zeppelin, Ted Nugent, Def Leppard, Billy Idol, AC/DC, Alice Cooper… his heart skips. He lost a lot of his tapes after all the sudden moves he’s had to make. His eyes start to well.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Billy pushes out on a whisper.

“Are they any good?”

“They’re… they’re awesome, kid.”

“There’s a card too y’know.” The boy adds, still shuffling nervously.

Billy slips it out from under the box, pulling his finger underneath the flap to open it.

It’s… it’s ridiculous. It’s one of the cheesiest cards Billy’s ever seen. He thinks back to all the stupid, jokey cards he used to pick out with his mother. The joke inside actually makes him laugh, loud and bright.

There’s words written underneath, quite a few scribbled out and then-

Sorry for all the trouble. I think I just don’t like knowing you’re right sometimes… but thank you for everything.

The words are nearly chicken scratch- wobbly letters clearly written with a nervous and shaky hand. The boy is damn near bouncing now, damn near trying to crawl out of his skin with nerves.

It’s the best, prettiest, most wonderful chicken scratch handwriting Billy has ever seen. He can barely see it now through his misty eyes.

“Your… handwriting is really nice.”

The boy scoffs loudly.

“Uh, thanks?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Still, Billy could swear he sees the boy preen, just a little.

“Thank you.” Billy says, fighting back tears, trying like hell to hold himself together. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t… I don’t have to yell at you so much. At all. I’m sorry about it.”

The boy is just staring at him, eyes a little wide and a little shocked. Billy feels his heart lurch. He just wants to be fucking good at this.

“I’m gonna do better.” Billy asserts through a not-so-wobbly-anymore voice

The boy gives a small smile that grows a bit wider. If Billy isn’t absolutely crazy yet, he’d say that the boy’s eyes are getting a bit misty too.

“So are those tapes actually good?” The boy asks, clearing his throat and trying to seem casual. Billy sees more and more of himself in him.

“Hell yeah… do you think I’d have bad taste?”

His son cackles just a bit, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, alright then. Whatever you say.”

There’s a pause. Billy takes the card and tucks it back into the envelope to save for himself- to put in a special place in his and Steve’s room. He then busies himself with shuffling through his tapes before his son says-

“We can… listen to some of them. If you want.”

Billy’s eyes shine with excitement and appreciation.

Listening to the tapes together is wonderful. They rib each other about what songs are better, what voices do and don’t sound the same, what the lyrics are like. They learn more about each other and maybe Billy is finally forced to admit that they’re a lot more alike than he realized.

And Billy starts to feel that maybe… maybe he can finally define what a father really means to him. And father’s days start to feel a bit more like they belong to him, too.

[chansdimp1es]

perfectly imperfect - bang chan

summary: Sure you weren’t the skinniest or most perfect looking person out there, and you tried to remind yourself that Chan didn’t care what you looked like or how you dressed, but how could you not feel like an over-boiled broad bean next to him in any pictures you took together or any time you went out with each other???

pairing: bang chan x female reader

genre: angst

warnings: mention of death, mental health issues, eating disorders, purging in the form of vom!tting

word count: >1k 

requested by @planetdemon​ !! <3

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You often wondered what it was in you that Chan actually found attractive; it definitely wasn’t your eyes or your smile,and as your relationship went on for longer and longer, you couldn’t help but ask yourself what exactly it was that drew you to him in the first place. You were insecure about your body, you weren’t stick thin like most other people, and you carried most of your weight around your tummy and thighs. 

Throughout the course of your relationship with Chan, you had slowly started loving your curvy shape, especially since he had expressed more than once how much he adored it whenever he could get his hands on your extra flesh during your long nights of love making, squeezing it and marking it has he made his way down your body.  

It was still incredibly hard to learn how to love yourself and you knew it was totally unrealistic to compare yourself to a kpop idol (nevermind the fact that he was an absolute god -in more ways than one- with all his Aussie glory) but you genuinely couldn’t help it. You had told yourself that you wouldn’t let the intruding thoughts in your head get to you, but the sheer amount of them made it almost impossible. 

It became worse after you and Chan had publicly announced your relationship to his adoring fans on your 2nd anniversary; you didn’t like the attention and you didn’t want to be scrutinized if you wanted to go to the grocery store in old baggy clothes. There was most definitely less mean comments than the nice ones, but your stupid brain latched onto the negatives as always and you couldn’t help but obsess over them. 

Sure you weren’t the skinniest or most perfect looking person out there, and you tried to remind yourself that Chan didn’t care what you looked like or how you dressed, but as more and more comments came flooding in on your posts, you couldn’t help but feel like an over-boiled broad bean next to him in any pictures you took together or any time you went out with each other. I mean how could you not when Chan works out as much as he does and is as attractive as he is? 

However as Chan became busier and busier with his schedule and preparing for a comeback, you barely got to see him anymore. It became so much harder to focus on the positive things people were saying without him there to bring you back to reality and remind you how the only important thing was how much you loved each other. You felt yourself slipping back into your previous unhealthy habits, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.

You had been through a serious depressive period before, right after your brother died. You had never experienced this kind of pain before in your life, and if it weren’t for Chan you probably wouldn’t be alive now. The loss of your brother seemed to unlock something in you that took you almost 2 years to recover from. He saw you through everything, eating disorders, suicide attempts, and he never once wavered. Chan stood by you through everything, always the shoulder for you to cry on and always prepared to cheer you up in any way he could with that dimpled smile of his.

However this time was so much more different. It directly involved him, and you honestly didn’t want to put him in a position where he would feel as if he had to take care of you all the time again. It took so much out of him the last time, and with him being as busy as he is right now you didn’t want to add more stress onto his already growing plate. So you chose the next best thing, to suffer in silence.

You didn’t mean to start purging again, you really really didn’t, but it sort of just happened. It was late one night when you had decided to stay up late to surprise Chan and welcome him home after a long day. You hadn’t had an opportunity to be romantic with each other in what felt like forever, so you had cooked his favourite dinner and lit candles all around your house in order to set the mood.

You had even decided to dress up a little bit, and the smooth fabric of the deep blue dress Chan had gifted you a few months back helped soothe your nerves as you played with the hem in anticipation of his arrival.

Suddenly your phone went off, signalling that you had got a text.

‪ from: ‪ channie 🖤🐺🥰 10.27pm

hey babe, sorry I’ll be home much later than usual tonight, rehearsal is running over. don’t wait up you need your rest. I love you 🖤

And your heart dropped. 

You typed back a quick reply saying not to worry at all and that you would hopefully see him at some stage tomorrow, as you tried to blink through your blurry eyes that were brimming with tears. 

You knew deep down it wasn’t his fault or yours, but it didn’t make it any easier. Suddenly all the effort you went through seemed totally silly, and you couldn’t help but think that Chan wouldn’t have even wanted to do something like this anyways, and that it was only a matter of time that he would grow tired of you, right? 

You hurriedly started tidying the entire setup away, and made the mistake of taking a glance at your reflection in the kitchen window, only to be met with the face of makeup you had spent time doing carefully being ruined by the tears slowly falling down your face. 

The next few moments seemed to pass by in a blur, and all of a sudden you found yourself gagging into the toilet with two fingers down your throat. You knew deep down you shouldn’t be doing it, but the stress and anxiety of the last few weeks had sent you spiraling. You felt ugly and worthless, and absolutely humongous,and instead of bothering Chan or anyone else about it, you let the dark thoughts swarm and grow, and take over your mind.

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hey everyone! thank you so much for reading this piece! as i was writing it i kinda felt like i should maybe split it up into two separate parts (??!?!?) so lemme know if you would be interested in reading the next part :) 

- skye <3

[secretsickysideblog]

putting it lightly

'“m’not drunk,” abbacchio groans, rolling over.

bucciarati laughs, a bitter sound, and shakes his head in pure exasperation. “yes. alright. i am so glad you did not decide to pursue a career in acting.”'

after a day spent searching for his awol teammate, bucciarati comes home to find that abbacchio had been peacefully asleep on his sofa all along.

(sicktember day 6, alternate prompt: asleep on the couch)

read under the cut!

Bucciarati is, put lightly, seething.

There’s this rage he hasn’t felt in a long time bubbling in the pit of his stomach, and although it’s the type that stems purely from concern, his blood is undeniably boiling. Because upon stepping into the front door of his apartment, Bucciarati is greeted with the sight of a familiar someone asleep on his couch--the same someone who has been AWOL all day, refusing to pick up the phone.

Bucciarati considers himself to be a rather patient man on the best of days and relatively tolerant even on those days that are not so great. And he is--he tries to be--as understanding as possible. So normally, if this were any other day, if he had gotten so much as a text confirming that Abbacchio was alive, Bucciarati would be fine with this. Mildly annoyed, but mostly in the sense of preferring to know when things were wrong with the people he holds dear before the problem rears its ugly head and less from the standpoint of work.

But Leone Abbacchio has been dead on air all day long. Bucciarati had gone through the other man’s apartment twice, and, accompanied by Fugo himself, they’d checked the youngest’s apartment all the same as if Abbacchio would have any reason at all to be there. Internally, Bucciarati slaps himself in the face for not considering that Abbacchio would have wandered here--but really, what reason would Abbacchio have to be here while vehemently ignoring any attempts to get into contact with him?

Bucciarati sucks a long inhale in through his teeth. It won’t do him any good to yell right now; for all he knows, the man passed out before him might be too far gone to comprehend a word he says, and Bucciarati would rather not strain his vocal chords for a reason so pointless as yelling to what may as well be a wall.

“Leone,” he calls, and the man doesn’t stir. He tries again with a little more fervor. No response.

A cold feeling manifests in Bucciarati’s veins as the consideration that, maybe, Abbacchio had trudged his way here to die pops up in his head. Maybe Abbacchio came all the way here because he knew it was the end, or because he had opted for the end, and maybe Bucciarati should be calling an ambulance right about now and he looks awfully similar to--

Bucciarati squeezes his eyes shut and shakes that train of thought away. The only way to know whether or not any of that was true would be to approach him, and if it were, Bucciarati would just have to deal with it. He’s come to be an expert at just dealing with things over the course of his eighteen years and change. With a tumultuous mix of rage and fear turning his stomach, Bucciarati approaches the couch, and he watches for a moment until he spots Abbacchio’s chest rise and fall once.

Good. He’s alive.

And with absolutely no sympathy, Bucciarati gives Abbacchio a firm shake by the shoulder to jostle him out of what Bucciarati assumes to be an alcohol-induced stupor--the flush across his defined cheekbones says all he needs to know. Except when Abbacchio blinks his eyes open with a groan, they’re glazed over and hazy in an unfamiliar way; when that golden gaze locks onto Bucciarati, it appears to lock onto something behind him. Within him, even. Through him.

“What in the hell are you doing here, Abbacchio?”

Abbacchio’s expression turns confused and quickly contorts into something that looks rather pained. Bucciarati keeps himself firm, even though something in him wants to ask ‘what hurts?’ Perhaps it’s a selfish act, to be angry, but Abbacchio has been sober for nearly a month now and Bucciarati sees no good reason to be ruining that. Abbacchio is guilty until proven innocent.

When he speaks, much to Bucciarati’s surprise, his breath smells like mint-- shockingly, mint and a hint of sleep and not at all alcohol. Not even coffee, which has served as Abbacchio’s replacement vice, in a sense. (It gives him something to refine taste in. Something to be picky about, a type of fill-in high.)

“Your door...it was unlocked,” is what Abbacchio says, and it’s slurred, but not in the way that he slurs when he’s wasted. It’s slurred in a manner that’s groggier than anything else.

“It’s always unlocked,” Bucciarati snaps. That was not the answer he was looking for, because that’s common sense. His door is always unlocked for the two subordinates he’s recruited that might need something at an ungodly hour, Abbacchio being a frequent visitor just after midnight.

Abbacchio hums, and his eyes close again as if he’s struggling to keep them open.

“Abbacchio,” Bucciarati gives him a quick pat on the cheek to get his attention back. “Don’t pass out on me again. I want an explanation.”

Dual-colored eyes reappear. Abbacchio says nothing more.

“Leone Abbacchio, why the hell did you decide to fuck up now? It’s been nearly a month and you haven’t come close to a relapse since three weeks ago! Not to mention, you have avoided me all day, only to end up here? What if you had been dying? I thought you had crawled your sorry ass over here to die on my couch,” Bucciarati growls, tone undoubtedly dripping with poison, and yet some aftertaste of it is sweet. Vaguely sweet. Because he isn’t really angry. He’s worried, as is often the case.

“M’not drunk,” Abbacchio groans, rolling over.

Bucciarati laughs, a bitter sound, and shakes his head in pure exasperation. “Yes. Alright. I am so glad you did not decide to pursue a career in acting.”

“I mean it,” Abbacchio’s voice comes out muffled by the navy throw pillow he has his face buried in, and yet there’s a distinctive whining quality to it. He doesn’t sound drunk--he sounds off. It’s disconcerting, because Bucciarati’s only assumption is that he’s more inebriated than he’s ever had the displeasure of seeing him before, and yet that wouldn’t make sense because the first night they met Abbacchio had a foot and a half well in the grave and a heel slipping downward.

Flushed cheeks, glazed-over eyes, and this slurring, whining tone. A clear dislike for the light in his eyes, as shown by the way he’s burying his face in a pillow, and he’d managed to get out of bed and brush his teeth but he’d opted against coffee. Bucciarati looks over his clues, looks over the sight before him, and tries to connect the pictures with a piece of logical twine. All at once, it comes together, and that burning rage within him is ignited by a cold wash of guilt.

He must be sick.

Bucciarati presses the back of his hand to Abbacchio’s cheek, and then to his forehead, and the heat radiating off of his pale face (paler than usual, somehow, and devoid of makeup) confirms it. For the second time in the past ten minutes, Bucciarati mentally slaps himself, and then again for good measure. As ample punishment, he decides to give himself an internal kick to the shin, too.

He exhales a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, the high-strung tension in his body melting into a puddle at his feet. Sick, he can handle. He can handle sickness just fine, actually. He crouches down beside the sofa and nudges Abbacchio’s shoulder with more care this time, gently prodding for his attention for just a moment longer. Bucciarati knows from experience that sleeping on this couch is comfortable, but not nearly as pleasant as a bed, especially not on lead-limbs and fever pains.

“Come on,” all of the venom has drained away from his voice, and so has a good half of the volume, “let’s get you to bed, alright? This couch is cheap. It won’t do any good for your back.”

Abbacchio takes a long while to respond to the suggestion, but eventually, he sits himself upright and manages to force himself up onto his feet. He sways a bit, and Bucciarati prepares himself to catch him if he goes down even if he has more muscle in his left bicep than Bucciarati has in his entire body. Maybe it’s the sentiment--if he goes down, at least he wouldn’t go down alone.

It takes a couple of pauses for Abbacchio to lean against the wall and take a breather (and there’s a moment where even more color drains from his face, and Bucciarati just about unzips a hole in the floor to avoid having to clean vomit off of the hardwood). Ultimately, though, they make it to the bedroom. Bucciarati makes sure Abbacchio is settled. He slips off the other’s shoes, which must have been unpleasant to fall asleep in, and sets them by the bedroom door.

“Do you need anything?” Bucciarati asks, and Abbacchio shakes his head. “Another blanket? I’m getting you water, and that isn’t up for debate.”

His answer comes in the form of complete stillness. Quiet. And Abbacchio, for someone that must have a rather high fever, seems to be at peace. Bucciarati sighs, looks over his form. Now that he’s certain the other is sleeping and not dead, he wonders if he should address the fear he felt at the notion of losing Abbacchio with himself, because it was a different kind of fear. As though losing him would leave not only a gap in his life, in his heart, but in his being entirely.

He slips off to fill a glass of water, sets it on the bedside table. And he settles into bed on the other side of Abbacchio’s sleeping form, carding fingers through his silky hair as though it’s the most natural gesture in the world. He’s gotten far too used to Abbacchio’s presence in the handful of months they’ve known each other. And maybe it could be chalked up to the closeness they’ve been forced into, or up to the reliance Abbacchio has on him and the feeling of being relied on. Maybe it’s the way Abbacchio looks at him when he’s wasted. Maybe it’s the grateful way he looks at him when he starts sobering up later in the night.

Or perhaps, Bucciarati muses, he might be, lightly put, falling in love.