#they probably give in to the temptation to hook up again much sooner in this AU

[ridiasfangirlings]

Rei and Mikoto have a hook up before either of them become kings and then later have to come to terms with it when they meet each other officially.

This is just making me imagine the two of them having like a drunken regrettable hook up and then a couple years later meeting in the park and Munakata is trying very very hard to act professional and Kingly and disapproving and Mikoto’s just like didn’t I fuck you once I’m pretty sure. Like maybe this happened at some point either before Munakata went to school overseas or while he was home visiting, say just a month or two before Mikoto awakens as King. Munakata has been convinced to try some alcohol for the first time and he’s feeling very rebellious because he’s not quite old enough to drink yet and he’s never disobeyed the rules before (maybe his brother made some comments about how it’s a rite of passage for high school kids but since Munakata’s going overseas to a fancy school he probably won’t ever get to do this, Munakata decides this is a new experience he must try. He doesn’t even consider making a fake ID and doesn’t need to, the bartender just gets swept up in his aura and doesn’t even ask). 

Munakata intends to only have a single drink but then he runs into Mikoto, who’s been doing some work as a bouncer for easy cash and so he can beat people up. They immediately clash and this turns into a drinking contest, which then turns into a drunken makeout in an alley with their hands down each other’s pants and eventually renting a hotel room. The next morning Munakata coughs primly, gathers up his clothes and leaves without a word, making a note that it seems he has finally had one of those new experiences he was hoping to try. Mikoto’s not surprised that Munakata just leaves and he doesn’t really care, it’s not like he was expecting anything out of this and hey it saved him from having to listen to that guy talk. 

Jump a couple years later and they meet as Kings, Kokujouji does notice that when he gives Suoh Mikoto’s dossier to the new Blue King Munakata raises an eyebrow and gives the smallest cough, like it’s barely a reaction but Munakata’s so completely in control otherwise that this is notable. He doesn’t give any indication when he runs into Mikoto for the first time either and it’s not until their third or fourth fight that Mikoto just grins and says Munakata’s become even more of a tight ass since they last met, Munakata notes that Mikoto is still just as uncouth and Mikoto just smirks because he figured this was the same guy.

 I imagine this being mostly a secret between them but everyone kinda knows something is up because every now and again Mikoto will make what seems like an innocent comment but gets Munakata noticeably annoyed, or Munakata will say something cold to Mikoto that feels weirdly personal and Mikoto looks a little more irritated than normal. I imagine Mikoto finds the whole thing sort of amusing in a ‘easy go-to way to piss Munakata off’ sense but he’s also not rushing to tell anyone else either. Kusanagi definitely ends up finding out somehow, imagine the two of them drinking at the bar and Kusanagi wonders why Mikoto sometimes acts like he and Munakata have known each other for a while and Mikoto just shrugs and offhandedly mentions he screwed Munakata once. Kusanagi’s in the middle of taking a drink and he spits it all over the floor like wait wait go back you did what. Mikoto doesn’t elaborate and now Kusanagi is just like seriously please tell me you’re kidding. Somehow this gets into the rumor mill and both Homra and S4 have gossip that Mikoto and Munakata are old exes, a rumor which neither King bothers to confirm or deny. 

[danurso-impact]

Temptation

Childe walked down the streets of mondstadt, happily humming and looking around the dark streets until he spotted a familiar blonde girl standing outside of angel's share. He would probably get a punch for that, but he decided to sneak behind the girl and cover her eyes.

Childe: guess who? Ojou-chan.

He was already prepared to get a hook straight to the face, but what happened instead was much more shocking to him.

Lumine: Childee! *turns around, jumping on him and making them both fall*

Childe: *shocked* O-ojou-chan? What are you-

Lumine: *with red cheeks and a smile on her face* i just wanted to hug *hic* you.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and managed to get even closer to him. Childe felt his own cheeks heating up at the sudden closeness, he would ask what's wrong with her, but the strong scent coming from her breath was just the answer he needed.

Childe: Ojou-chan, did you drink alcohol?

Lumine: no, just a few glasses of wine. *hic* Why do you ask?

Childe: *sigh* who on their right mind would give alcohol to an unaccompanied young lady like you? I'll probably need to have a talk to the bartender. *gets up*

Lumine: *still clinging on him*

Childe: Ojou-chan, can you please let go for a second?

Lumine: hehehe, childe is so  tall.

Childe: Ojou-chan please-

Lumine: noooo~ i want you to *hic* carry me.

Childe: *sighs, holding her in his arms* i should probably take you home first anyways.

Lumine: *snuggling on his chest* childe's arms are so strong, and your chest is *hic* so warm too~

Childe: *blushing* good gods, i don't know if this is a gift or a punishment.

*a few minutes later, at Lumine's house*

Childe: *putting lumine on her bed* there, have a good night Ojou-

Lumine: *pulls him on top of her*

Childe: O-

Lumine: *with a pout* Can you stop calling me like that already?

Childe: Alright. Lumine?

Lumine: *smiling* Yes?

Childe: can you let me go please?

Lumine: I don't want to.

Childe: But i-

Lumine: nooooo. I want you to staaay.

Childe: stay? Hah, I thought you hated me Ojou-chan.

Lumine: I don't hate you. I love you, you dummy.

Childe: wait. . . *red* what?

Lumine: I love youuuuuu. Can you stay now?

Childe: I-i'm sorry Ojou-chan, but i really need to leave. *breaks free and tries to leave*

Lumine: wait!

Childe: *looks back to her, still with pink cheeks*

Lumine: It's lonely when you're not around, and when you are I feel happy and safe. . . *tearing up* please don't leave me alone Ajax.

Childe: That's a low blow Ojou-chan. . . . . .fine, I'll stay until you fall asleep, just please don't cry.

Lumine: *nods, with a small smile*

Childe: *sighs, sitting on the bed next to her*

Lumine: Ajax?

Childe: yeah?

Lumine: Can I get a goodnight kiss?

Childe: a what!?

While Childe tried to shake off the shock from her request, Lumine closed her eyes and reached out for him, waiting for a kiss. Childe's eyes were locked on her soft pink lips, and there wasn't anything he wanted more in the world than fulfilling her request, but after taking in a deep breath and gathering his self control, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Lumine: *pouts* coward.

Childe: sorry Ojou-chan, maybe when you're feeling better we can have a real kiss.

Lumine: you're such a dummy. . .can you hold my hand at least?

Childe: sure. *holds her hand* Good night Ojou-chan, sweet dreams.

Lumine: Good night. . .Ajax. . .zzz.

Childe: *sighs in relief, staying there for some time, just admiring her face* Honestly, I wonder what the other harbingers would say if they saw how much of a mess you make me.

He was about to stroke her hair when the sound of a door opening reached his ears, instantly his peaceful expression was replaced by a cold scowl. He summoned his water daggers and left the room, ready to slice anyone who was dumb enough to invade the house of his dear Ojou-chan.

Childe: *jumps behind the invader, holding his daggers agaimst his throat*

Venti: w-woah! Err. . .hello there.

Childe: Oh, it's just you. *sighs, undoing his daggers* What are you doing here bard?

Venti: me? Oh, i just came to check on the traveler.

Childe: She's fine, she's sleeping on her bed.

Venti: Really? *sighs in relief* Thank you, for taking care of her that is.

Childe: It was nothing.I'm just doing what I can for her.

Venti: That's very kind of you. *sighs* I'm relieved that she found you, I nearly had a heart attack when I couldn't find her. I knew that the wine I gave her was too strong for someone who almost never drinks.

Childe: wait. . .you gave her the wine?

Venti: yeah, she was stressed so i thought some wine could help.

Childe: *with a shadow cast over his eyes* so it's your fault she was in that state?

Venti: Well, honestly it was hers for not having limits to drink, but I did give her the wine so i guess i might have a drop of fault in this case.

Childe: . . . . . . .run.

Venti: what?

Childe: *boss form* i said run.

*next day, at the lunch store*

Lumine: *groans* My head hurts.

Amber: *sheepishly* of course it does, i don't think i've ever seen you drink so much wine like yesterday.

Lumine: I did? Ugh, last night is all a blur, i don't even know how i got back home.

Childe: *behind lumine* You can thank me for that Ojou-chan.

Lumine: CHILDE!? *groans, holding her head in pain* Oww, don't scare me like that. . .my head is killing me. Stupid hangover.

Childe: well, if you avoided these drinks you would be okay now Ojou-chan.

Lumine: shut up, i don't need that talk now. So, it was you who took me back home?

Childe: Yup, you're welcome Ojou-chan.

Lumine: *looks back at amber* Can you please check around my body to see if he did anything to me while I was drunk?

Childe: ouch. Do you really think I would take advantage of you in such a state, Ojou-chan?

Lumine: *deadpans* Honestly? I still don't know what to think about you.

Childe: That's mean, I took care of you like any nice person would do, in fact, I think I even deserve a reward for helping you out.

Lumine: sorry, but i don't think i have enough mora to pay someone rich like you, and i'm not in condition to fight either.

Childe: well, that's sad. But since you can't pay or fight, i think i can accept just a kiss as a reward.

Lumine: *blushes* a-a what!?

Childe: a kiss, just a little one. *grins* You know I deserve it Ojou-chan.

Lumine: *red* n-not in a million years you pervert! *gets up* i-i have daily commissions to do now, please leave me alone. *storms away with smoke coming out of her head*

Amber: *leaves with her*

Childe: *sighs* I guess that's what I get for being the good guy.

Venti: *behind him, full of bruises and cuts* don't worry, i bet she'll accept her feelings sooner or later.

Childe: *boss form again* and who told you to stop running!?

Venti: EEK!!! *bolts away* I SAID I WAS SORRY!!!!

Childe: *chasing him* GET BACK HERE SO I CAN KILL YOU BARD!!!

Venti: *crying* I'M SOORRYYYY!!!

[sylvain-writes]

Doors Will Open (Donatello x Reader)

Rated: G

Gender Neutral Reader, pre-relationship, movie night, tenderness, cuddling, supportive brothers

You surprise Donnie with lembas bread for your Lord of the Rings movie night.

for @blancoluna

Donatello is holed up in his laboratory of mischief and oddities when you arrive at the lair bearing treats. But Mikey is there to greet you, jumping out of the Pit to graciously unload the deep tupperware of cookies from your hands. 

His eyes twinkle as he leans in to stage whisper, “You’re my favorite, know that?”

April walks up behind him with a gasp of indignation. “I’m gone five minutes!”

“But, but...” He lifts the box in his defense, “Cookies!”

“Ooh.” April’s eyes go wide and warmth floods your cheeks at their enthusiasm. She rubs her hands together with delight. “Can I grab one for the road?” You nod, of course, encouraging her to take as many as she likes. “You’re my favorite too,” she says with a giddy bounce.

Your laughter draws Raphael and Leonardo from the tunnels, and your excitement for the evening mounts. Rising to your toes hopefully, you try to capture a glimpse of Donatello behind them. The tunnel, however, is otherwise empty. Your heart sinks just a little.

Everyone gathers in the kitchen, welcoming you and trying to convince April to stay, but with each passing minute, the absence of your best friend grows harder to ignore. 

“Wheel of Time is in my bag,” you mention to Leo half-heartedly. It’s a book series he’s been begging to borrow for ages. You’re proud of yourself for remembering to bring it, and you don’t want to get distracted and forget. 

“Thanks!” Leo unlatches your messenger bag immediately, diving into a confession that only serves to prove what a nerd he is. Apparently, he sped through the Lord of the Rings this week in his excitement for the weekend movie marathon. You nod along with an amused smile. You're usually overjoyed to have the fellow bookworm to talk to, but your attention keeps drifting to the empty tunnels. 

A lull in his rambling gives you an opportunity to ask, “Is Donnie coming?” You have trouble meeting Leo's eyes, but you try your best to keep the question sounding casual and light. You don’t want Leo, Raph, Mikey, or April to feel like you don’t value their company, but you brought down supplies for Movie Night under the impression Donatello would be joining in; you don’t want to start without him.

“Oh, I’ll get that knucklehead,” Leo says, stacking the books to carry. “He probably just lost track of time.” 

Turning from Mikey's final, futile plea for April to stay, Leo heads toward his room to drop off the books, then to the workshop to gather their missing brother.

The muted sounds of tools and machinery come through the heavy door in clanks and whirrs. But Leo knows Donnie won't mind the intrusion.  He raps a knuckle against the small frosted window and gives his brother a shout. 

Donatello raises his voice over the buzz of a circular saw to ask, “Emergency?” But the sound of the blade cutting through metal continues without pause.

“No.” Leo won’t lie. He won’t test Donnie’s nerves with trickery, not even when the reveal is something his brother has been looking forward to all week. 

“Password?” Donnie counters next.

Leo screws up his face, searching his memories for the right answer. “I don’t know, dude. There’s cookies? And, like, ten hours of movies, so-”

The saw goes silent before the 'shop door opens with a snap. Leo takes a step back to give his brother room. 

Donnie’s face pops through the gap, his eyes looking unnaturally large through the magnifying lenses perched atop his beak. “What day is it?”

“Uh, Friday.”

“Y/N is here?”

Leo's exasperated answer hisses through the tunnel. "Yes." 

Donatello lets the door swing wide as he pulls off his goggles and hangs them on their hook. “Why didn’t you start with that?” he asks as he tidies up his station. His hands fly over the tables, reorganizing the space for his return. He fumbles his wrenches into their case in his rush. "How long have they been here? Why didn't anyone get me sooner?"

Leo doesn’t hide his grin, so happy to see Donnie this close to admitting his crush. “Oh, so they’re the password, huh?”

Donatello’s blush starts at his neck and rises up to his ears. “That’s not…” He gives a little huff as he rolls his tool cart to its place against the wall. “Shut up, Leo.”

Slinging an arm around Donnie's neck, Leo drags him into the hall. He grinds his knuckles over his little brother's head with a light chuckle.  Though Donnie easily squirms free, Leo knocks him with a shoulder, a tease and a mark of support. 

At first, Leo had been reticent to encourage his brother's feelings for you, but over time it's become obvious that Donnie’s affections are far from one-sided. Being what they are, that came as somewhat of a shock to him, but it was the best kind of surprise.

Donnie's lucky to have you in his life. And Leo hopes that one day soon, the two of you will get your acts together. It's about time you two admit just how happy the other makes you.

*

You're picking at the edge of the countertop, stomach in knots, when you hear the echo of footsteps draw near. Leo and Donnie enter the main living space pushing and shoving, but there's not a hint of anger on their squabble. Laughter stretches their smiles wide. 

You bite your lips together, anticipating the moment when Donatello finds you. There's become a shared second of pause when you meet, though you don't know when that began. You try to prepare yourself for it each time, but it always leaves you breathless. 

When Donatello’s eyes fall on you, his laughter peters out and his smile goes soft. Your lungs ache with the breath you've forgotten to release until Donatello breaks the spell. "I was told there would be cookies?"

You gesture to the box, hoping the slight tremor in your hand isn't obvious. "Lembas, actually." It's silly, your newly developed nervousness around him. Donnie is the person with whom you feel safest, most free to be yourself. He's your best friend in the world. 

Your crush on him shouldn't change that. But it does. It could change everything.

Donatello's eyes slide to the box and his jaw drops comically. "Are you kidding me? How did you-? Why did-?" His long strides bring him to the table before he has a chance to form a full sentence.

"It's our weekend," you say. A blush colors your cheeks as you catch your choice of phrase. "I mean, Lord of the Rings weekend. Remember?" You fiddle with the ring hanging from your neck, your fingers running back and forth over the elvish script. 

"I didn't. I do now! I didn't realize it was Friday until Leo… But Lembas!" He's probably the biggest nerd of you all.

"Go ahead." The mess of crumbs on the counter is evidence Raph and Mikey have grabbed their share. Thankfully, they left some for the rest of you. 

Leo skirts around you to take a cookie for himself while Donatello inspects his square of pastry with care. Turning it over in his hands, Donnie hums. "It smells like citrus and almond."

"There's lavender too," you supply gently. It took a few tries and a few tweaks of the recipe you found to get it just right, but you're quite proud of the end result.

"Yeah," he gives a slow nod. "And lavender. I was getting to that." He looks at you in awe. "This is really… it's so cool."

"You didn't even try it." Your racing heart switches gears from nervousness to anticipation for Donnie to have a taste.

"Oh, right." Donatello takes his first bite, follows it quickly with a second, and the cookie is gone. "Wow." Crumbs fall from his lips and you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"I can make more," you offer as he reaches for another, "if you guys like them so much."

Donnie nods and drops his gaze as he seems to consider it. "...maybe you can make them here," he says finally. "With me, y'know? Show me how it's done."

Your blush returns at the suggestion and you find yourself hesitant to agree to the plan. 

Donatello's eyes blink wide and his almost pout is irresistible as always. You can't fathom why you'd give up the chance to be the one teaching Donatello something for once. 

With a leap of your heart, you give in. "Yeah, of course. We can swing by my place later and grab the stuff. Could be fun."

"Could be," he agrees quietly.

Donnie meets your eyes again and the moment of stillness between you stretches long--

Until Raphael speaks up from the couch with an exaggerated groan. "Can ya please get over here already? There's a whole mess of movies waitin' for us and you're busy yappin'."

Donatello grabs the box of cookies and rummages through the cabinet for Pop-Tarts while you make your way over to the TV. Of course, not even lembas can fill his appetite for sweet pastry. 

In the Pit, the lighting is dim. Title screen music rises and falls, drawing you into the fantasy world of Middle Earth.

Leo has taken a seat atop the back of the couch to give Raph and Mikey room on the cushions below. At the sight of your approach, Mikey scoots toward his brothers to make you a place by the armrest.

It's a comfortable fit, even for your favorite position, sitting with your legs pulled up, criss cross. But when Donnie comes in, there's no real room for him. He doesn't seem to mind. He places the plate of lembas and box of Pop-Tarts on the coffee table. Then, without hesitation, he takes a seat on the floor in front of you.

Mikey starts up the movie and the epilogue scenes cast the room in shadows and flashes of light. Donatello settles in against your legs and everyone's eyes focus on the screen.

The film plays and the temptation to reach toward Donatello increases with his every shift. Though he hasn't complained, you think he must be uncomfortable down on the floor. If nothing else, the way he rolls his shoulders probably means he's feeling stiff. 

It's dark enough, you could lay your hands on his shoulders, work the knots out of his muscles and neck, without attracting the attention of his brothers. But you don't. As you indulge yourself in fantasy, Donatello shifts once more.  He slides into position between your knees and the tails of his bandana catch on the hem of your jeans. 

You stare for a moment, unsure if you're allowed to touch. Then, Donnie leans back and smiles up at you and you could swear your heart stops. It only lasts a second before his eyes return to the screen, but it fills you with comfort, confidence, and calm.

Careful not to tug, you take the tails of his mask in hand and lay the long strips of cloth over your lap. With steady passes, the fabric runs through your fingers. It's soft and worn. Stained and fraying on the ends. The movie plays on, but as far as you're concerned there's only this. 

You twist the tails of Donnie's mask around your fingers. You tie them into loose knots, losing yourself in the quiet intimacy of having Donatello so close. 

Donnie tips his head to the side as you play, turning his body just enough that he can rest his head on your knee. 

You bend at the waist and drop your voice as quiet as it can go to avoid being overheard by the others. "You OK?"

Donatello nods, nuzzling his cheek against your knee just enough for you to notice. "It's nice," he says, and you drag the tails of his bandana through your fingers again. 

As you sit up, you spare a glance at his brothers. Raph and Leo are sitting forward, elbows on their knees, enraptured by Arwen's race on horseback. But Mikey's watching you through the corner of his eye. He gives you a small, knowing smile before turning his attention back to the screen.

When it's time to switch DVDs, everyone agrees it's time for a stretch. 

Donnie's the first one back to the Pit. And he takes it upon himself to lie across all three cushions of the couch with a lazy grin. Mikey doesn't even bother with him, ducking out to meet up with April and leaving his older brothers to fend for spots on the broken recliner and floor.

Donatello makes grabby hands as you return from the kitchen with a pair of sodas. You think he'll sit up, make some room. But to your surprise, Donatello exaggerates his sprawl. He takes the drinks and places them on the floor, then extends his hands toward you again.

You only have a second to register his request before he takes your hand in his and gently pulls you onto the couch with him. 

Cuddled up between the couch and your back, Donatello gives a little shimmy and a wistful sigh. 

Your heart is racing and you're tingling from your hands to your toes, but fitting against the curves of Donatello's bent knees and soft embrace takes no thought at all. And once you're there, you can't imagine ever wanting to leave.

*

The second Fellowship DVD comes to an end, and Donatello's breath tickles your neck, "One more?"

You shrug into the feeling of his words ghosting over your skin. "I'll fall asleep," you admit regretfully. You're so comfortable in his arms, you don't want to go home. But it's precisely that warmth and safety that are making it so hard to stay awake.

"I won't make fun of you if you snore," Donnie teases. There's soft pressure on your scalp and you're sure that's the feeling of him snuggling into your hair.

"I make no promises," Raph chimes in from the recliner. You'd long since forgotten you had company. The sound of his voice should come as a shock, should have you scrambling out of Donnie's arms. But it's only Raph, and he's picking on you the same as always. And there's a kind of approval in that -- the kind you never dreamed of receiving.

You try to shoot him a scowl, but you're grinning because you can't help it. 

*

You were right about having difficulty staying awake. The film isn't on for five minutes before your eyes drift closed.

"Are you asleep?"

"Still listening," you mumble dreamily. Donatello's arms tighten around you and his chin tucks over your head. It's enough to send you adrift into a deep and peaceful sleep.

You wake up in the morning alone but wrapped in a purple knitted blanket you recognize from Donnie's room. You pull it snug around your shoulders as you sit up to check your phone.  There's a text from your roommate and emails that can be ignored, but one notification stands out. You touch the media message from Raphael. 

Though you roll your eyes at the blurry thumbnail, your curiosity has you pressing play. The video is only 20 seconds, anyway. 

It loads immediately and the image clears. You smile at the closeup of Donatello asleep on the couch. The audio is low but you can clearly make out the snuffling rise and fall of his snores. You allow yourself a little laugh as you watch the video play through again. And you don't miss the way Raphael panned to show you and Donnie together dozing comfortably -- your limbs entangled and your face tucked into the crook of his neck.

You're unsure where you two stand and where your relationship will go, but your stomach is full of butterflies and your heart is content.

"Did you sleep OK?" Donnie asks as he comes in from the kitchen. He's brought tea and toast -- a simple but sweet gesture. 

You take a moment to enjoy the sight of him bringing you breakfast 'in bed' and tuck your phone away with a smile. "I slept great."

[pinkishbee-writes]

Heart of Gold: PreciousMetalShipping

TW: Implied child neglect, emotionally distant parent(s), implied cigarette use

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727744 

The sky was clear, the streets were quiet, and there were visible heat waves coming off the pavement. It was miserably hot.

Unfortunately, Gold had been shoved out of the house by his mother. She was talking on the phone, and absolutely hated the loud antics he got into… like playing the Wii in his room. He wanted more than anything to stay inside and keep playing, but she insisted that he was too loud, and even threw in a comment about how he needed more vitamin D. 

He thought she’d at least let him stay inside on the day, but she must’ve forgotten. Typical.

The least he could do was celebrate it himself.

He grabbed his bike from the porch and took off. Not many people were out, which just increased his irritation with the whole situation. The few people who were out didn't say anything to him. It's not like he could expect them to remember if his own mother didn't, but he didn't care. He was no stranger to holding grudges. In fact, he considered it one of his many talents. 

He stopped at the convenient store that Crystal was working at during summer break, locking his bike to a pole. The store's cold air cooled him off, but he still found himself lingering in the fridge as he grabbed two sodas. He brought them back to the checkout, ignoring Crystal's greeting. He grabbed a bag of chips and party horns. Crystal gave him a weird look when he set them on the counter.

"What are the tooters for?" 

"It's my birthday."

"Oh my God!" She gave him a hug over the counter, knocking over a soda. "Happy birthday! Oh, you should've told me sooner, I would've gotten you something."

He put the soda right side up. "You could start by ringing me up."

"Right, sorry!" She happily rang everything up. "I could pay for it, as a present."

Gold looked around for a second— the coast was clear. "Or you could give me a pack of Marlboros."

She gasped at him, leaning over the counter to whisper. "You know I can't do that! I'd get in serious trouble." 

"C'mon, it's my birthday," he said. "I hooked you up with Red for prom last year. You owe me."

Her face flushed. “That’s different!”

“Is not!”

She looked around and sighed, dropping her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Of course she wouldn’t. He snatched the bag and started towards the door. 

“I promise I’ll make it up to you!” She called out.

“Whatever.”

He unlocked his bike and tore off down the road. How was that not equal payment? It wasn’t even as hard! At this rate, he couldn’t rely on anyone. He was tempted to just have his birthday all alone, but then the second soda would go to waste. That is, if the kid even accepted it. The temptation to turn around and go home grew stronger, but Gold never backed down from a challenge, even one as depressing as trying not to spend his birthday alone.

He had to cut through someone’s yard to get to the forest. It wasn’t easy to bike through, so he walked his bike through the woods until he found the broken, overgrown fence. He dropped his bike and climbed under, looking around the clearing he was led to. The grass was a bit tall, but nothing he couldn’t handle. All around the clearing were huge oak trees that blended back into the huge forest. That kid should be around somewhere…

Up in the foliage of an oddly shaped oak tree, there was a bit of red hair peeking through the green. Gold could see him lying across a branch, eyes closed. Surely he wasn’t sleeping up there.

“SILVER!”

He jumped and held onto his branch for dear life, looking down at the asshole who yelled for him. Gold smirked at him. “Come down here.”

Silver carefully climbed down the tree. “What are you doing here?” He snapped.

“I wanted to hang out.” He grabbed a soda from the bag and handed it to Silver. “I brought snacks.”

Silver didn’t take the soda, instead just glaring at it for a moment. “Why would I hang out with you?”

“‘Cause it’s my birthday!” 

“And you have nowhere better to be? On your birthday.”

Gold scoffed. “What're you talking about? This is the coolest place I could think of.”

“Right...”

Gold shoved the soda in his hand and led him back to the base of his tree. He sat down, finally relaxing now that he was out of the harsh sunlight. He cracked open his soda and almost started chugging it. It was so refreshing, and he’d been dying to get a sip of it since he left the store. “I fucking love soda.”

“Don’t swear,” Silver scolded.

He just laughed at him, handing him the bag of chips. 

They stayed mostly quiet while they snacked. Gold didn’t really feel the need to say much, and Silver probably didn’t have anything interesting to talk about. He was a weirdo, but Gold still enjoyed his company. It was better than anyone else’s.

After about half an hour, Silver finally spoke up. “Aren’t you bored?”

“Nah.”

A few more minutes passed. “You have other friends, y’know.”

“What do you mean?”

“To spend time with, for your birthday, or whatever.” he answered, picking at the grass. “I know I wasn’t your first choice. That’d be stupid.”

“They’re all busy,” he said. “And it’s not stupid. I’m having fun.”

“What about your mom?”

“Do you want me to leave?” Gold snapped, sitting up straight. “‘Cause I’ll fuckin’ leave if you don’t want me here. Just tell me and I’ll go.”

Silver stared at him. He wasn’t glaring at him, and he wasn’t shocked at his outburst. He looked… indifferent. Somehow that pissed Gold off even more.

“I was just curious,” he mumbled. “I don’t care what you do.”

“Are you bored, princess?”

Silver shoved him. “Calm down, I was just curious! You never hang out with me, so... I’m just confused about it.”

“Well don’t be.”

“Don’t confuse me, then.”

Gold turned and shoved Silver hard, causing him to fall over. He got back up and shoved Gold back, but he wouldn’t fall over as easy. Silver kept pushing on him until Gold started laughing. “Okay, okay, I get it!” He took a moment to catch his breath after Silver stopped. “Whew… I didn’t know you were so weak.”

Silver stood up and kicked Gold in the side, causing him to just burst out laughing again. “Ow, you dick!”

“God, you’re so weird!” Silver yelled, storming off. “Leave me alone!”

“Wait, wait, wait, Sil! Wait, I’m sorry!”

The sun was starting to set, but Gold was still hanging out with Silver. He was dreading going home, but even Silver was starting to get antsy about going home himself. They were on their way out of the forest when Gold offered Silver a ride home.

He simply shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

They crossed through the yard and stopped at the road as Gold got on his bike. He wasn’t entirely ready to leave yet. Silver was surprisingly really nice company. “You sure you don’t want a ride?”

He nodded. 

“Alright. See you later.”

“Wait!” 

Gold turned to see Silver smiling at him. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

One-Shots and Story Hooks

One thing Ravnica campaigns are rarely without is conflict. On a good day, somewhere between nine and ten of the Guilds will be having an issue with one another in some way, shape, or form. This is good for adventuring parties because it means there’s always something to do. While coming up with a session can literally be as simple as picking two Guilds and building off their general reasons for not liking each other (which is as easy as picking a fight on the internet), sometimes you need help. You need something to kickstart those creative ideas again.

Fortunately, the artists over at Wizards of the Coast have had over a dozen sets/releases to craft not just the main storyline of Ravnica, but unique little one-offs as well. They come with absolutely stellar artwork to help build the atmosphere of the City of Guilds, and wonderful bits of flavor text that are prime jumping-off points for your story ideas.

So here are four story hooks taken straight from Ravnica cards to incorporate into your campaign. You don’t have to follow these prompts exactly, but if they spark some ideas of your own, run with them.

Watchwolf

Ravnica can be lonely & intimidating for a Druid. With so much of the world made up of pavement and skyline, one’s connection with nature can feel like a long-distance relationship. You’d be hard-pressed to find a tree outside the Conclave without venturing into Rubblebelt territory. Furthermore, what animals do inhabit the big city have been almost unilaterally conscripted into service by one Guild or another. Azorius hawks, Boros hounds, Gruul boars, Selesnya cattle; to say nothing of the terrifying creations churned out from Guilds like the Simic, Orzhov, or Rakdos.

Even the rats seem to have loyalties.

I was browsing a Tin Street stall for watermelon seeds when I saw it. A wolf, staring right at me from a bridge nearby. I looked around but didn’t see anyone it seemed to belong to. Boros dogs wear armor, Ledev dire wolves are never without their rider, and if it was Gruul it would almost certainly have some sort of clan markings. Could it be a wild one?

Noticing my gaze, the wolf made its way over to me. It avoided the crowd with a comfort you don’t see in wild animals. This wolf definitely belonged to someone in the city.

A few of the merchants were staring at us. Even if it was trained, it was definitely making them nervous. The wolf nipped & tugged at my tunic with its mouth. Not with aggression, but with urgency. Spend enough time with animals, you learn to spot the difference. I bought my seeds, tipped the shopkeep generously, and brought the wolf to a quieter part of the city to speak with it.

Who are you?

Watcher

A watcher? Curious.

What do you need, Watcher?

Help

What help do you need?

Lost

You’re lost?

Watcher shook his muzzle.

Where’s your owner, Watcher?

Taken

Taken? Taken by whom?

Watcher told me.

A what?

Role Reversal

This was definitely one for the books. Even for the Senate, seeing a Sphinx up close is extremely rare. Seeing one at your desk filing a complaint about another Sphinx is unheard of.

“They are Uthlon the Wise. A model among their peers for stoicism, moderation, and sound judgement.”

“And you’re filing a complaint against Uthlon for....”

I checked my notebook.

“....Getting drunk and painting rude words on the temple of Azor.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll look into it.”

I expected a response. There’s always a response when people get angry enough to file a complaint. However, instead of shouting or threats, the Sphinx Agammemnos stepped back from my desk and perched down a few feet away. They were really going to wait there until I looked into this. My lunch was sitting an arm’s reach away. I sighed deeply. I hated this job sometimes.

Then, another Sphinx came in and approached my desk.

“I am here to file a complaint regarding Uthlon the Wise.”

I took my notebook back out.

“For the crime of shouting out ‘River’.”

I had to ask for that one again. Apparently, they were asking someone a riddle, as Sphinxes do, when Uthlon the Wise popped up and shouted the riddle’s answer. For that, I might seek out this Uthlon the Wise for the sole purpose of giving them a medal. No sooner had this thought crossed my mind when another Sphinx, this one rubbing their head and moving as though drunk, wandered in.

“I....am here to....file a complaint.”

“Regarding Uthlon the Wise?”

The Sphinx looked pleased. They do love when someone can guess what they’re thinking.

“Uthlon the Wise hit me over the head with a club.”

I’d just finished writing that down when more Sphinxes came strolling in. I’d never seen this many in one place, not even in Isperia’s court. Then I saw the strangest thing of all. A goblin came in, calmly walked up to my desk, and told me in the best Common I’ve ever heard from a goblin:

"My name is Uthlon the Wise.”

For the love of the Guildpact, what is going on here?

Mass Manipulation

There they are. I thought I made my instructions clear to dress the part. One way you can always spot a Dimir is by their shabby taste. They’re so concerned with being able to keep things hidden in their clothes that they can never wear anything that fits them properly. Orzhov assassins, by contrast, always dress to kill. We turn the art of killing into an actual art. And here this tit comes showing up at the finest diner in the Precinct wearing that awful trenchcoat. Ghosts, I should have hired that Ochran. At least they know not to be seen.

The only reason I’m resorting to this alley skulker is because I need the job done quickly and on the cheap. If this imbecile ruins my appetite, I’m docking the price of the meal from their pay. Then again, if I do that, I wouldn’t be paying them at all.

Seems fair to me.

“Dreadfully sorry I’m late.”

“If this is how you run your business, I may just take mine elsewhere.”

“Now, now, let’s not get hasty.”

The server came over to take our orders, but because of this idiot’s tardiness, my main course would have to wait while they ordered drinks.

“Would you like to see our wine list?”

“Water is fine, thank you.”

Ghosts, I should have hired the Rakdos. This whole day is already a loss and it’s only breakfast. Why did I ever think these fools could be trusted with something important?

The server poured water from the pitcher while I waited.

“So, what’s the job?”

“What’s the job? The job is everything! How you present yourself! How you treat your clients! How you behave in high society! How am I supposed to trust you with a contract when you can’t even show up on time for a breakfast?”

They just sat there, drinking their water. Not even the decency to look ashamed. I’m going to put a word in to the Judge for another purge, this is unacceptable. We shouldn’t have to put up with these dredges.

Finishing their water, they clinked their glass on the table.

The whole diner was suddenly quiet. Not the awkward, shocked quiet of society types pausing to listen. I’ve lived in this city for almost 70 years and I’ve never heard anything like this kind of silence. Every single person froze in their place, some halfway in the motion of eating or talking. Then, every single head turned in our direction at once.

“I was afraid it might come to this. I know you have things to do, so I’ll be brief. When I ask you for the job, I don’t need your background or history and especially not your personal take. I know how uptight you Syndicate types are about contracts & paperwork & details and all that nonsense. I just need the deed and the name of the person it’s being done to. That’s all.”

Every face stares at me with blank captivation. Not a single eye blinks. Not a single mouth draws breath. Including mine.

“But first, let’s talk about the pay. For starters, since the target is probably wealthy enough to afford protection, the rate will double. Second, since you clearly have trouble keeping your mouth shut, you’ll need to be kept under supervision until the job is done, so the rate will double again. Lastly, since the reason I was late was because I was debating whether or not to poison your drink, let’s double it again and call it a deal.”

I swallow hard. I should have never gotten involved with House Dimir.

“Seems fair to me.”

“Excellent. Now, what’s the job?”

Debtors’ Transport

This one will not be easy. This isn’t your standard smash & grab in the Bulwark where the Wojek are too busy busting Gruul skulls to chase after a gang of thieves. Everyone in the city has thought of it at least once; rob the Orzhov. The problem is, everyone knows what happens to anyone who tries; best case execution, worst case servitude. The air surrounding the Orzhov Guildhall is saturated with the ghosts of poor souls still paying off their debts to the Syndicate centuries after death. It’s not a fate you wish unto anyone, least of all yourself.

But still....the temptation is right there. An Orzhov transport, one of those big bloated ones that look like someone took a person, removed their bones, and then blew them up like a balloon. Walking right through the plaza. Every week, same time, same route, same cargo. An enormous sarcophagus filled with more coin than your average Ravnican citizen will see in a lifetime, and the moans of the latest poor soul who fell too far behind on their payments.

From the street separating the haves & have-nots of Precinct Two, around the Hall of the Guildpact in Precinct One, then a straight shot along Plaza Avenue to the Orzhova Church. Roughly one hour to walk five miles of city and deliver the cargo into the greedy hands of the Ghost Council.

They aren’t subtle about their business, but they aren’t subtle about security, either. At least four Advokists and Knights for a light haul, double that for a bigger one, and if they’re really hauling a score you can expect a trio of their fully-plated Giants as well. Not to mention the gargoyles they have perched on roofs for every single street along the route. And the transports themselves aren’t exactly known for being well-tempered when something agitates them.

But you rip off a score like that and your entire crew can afford to buy a mansion on a floating mountain.

Assuming you get away, of course. That’s always the rub. There are few things the Syndicate take more personally than being robbed. You rob a score like that, they don’t just send the Order of Sorrows after you, they send the Angels. The executors of Orzhov justice who don’t sleep, don’t stop for lunch, don’t stop for anything until they find you. At least when the Firemane kill someone it’s an exciting way to go. Better death by immolation than spending every night listening for the sound of feathered wings dropping a scythe down on you.

But if you did it right, made sure no one saw you, made sure no one could trace it back to you, it could be done. It can be done.

But who would be willing to take the risk?

[garpie64]

11 with sladejay? If you feel like?

Naughty Little Maid

This had to be the worst undercover mission ever. Jason hated everything; from the constant sexual harassment to the damn slutty outfit. He should have known something was up when Tim came to him with a new gadget to bribe for his help on a case. He should have questioned, but the shiny new Bat toy distracted him. Now here he was; dressed in this tight-fitting frilly pathetic excuse for a maid uniform cleaning some drug lord wannabe’s penthouse.

Damn alpha prick. Jason spent more time dodging unwanted advances than doing his actual job.

At least it was coming to an end. The bastard had left for some big party which meant Jason could snoop around and finally get the info Tim needed. The sooner he could get out of here and this damn dress the better. Getting into the locked study was routine. The idiot rarely remembered to actually lock it and besides, Jason could pick his way out of Bat grade handcuffs. A simple door lock was nothing. Jason stepped into the modern office decorated in art and décor that could probably pay a few months' rent. Ridiculous what some rich men spent their money on.

His heels clipped as he walked across the marble floor. He made his way to the desk where his idiot of an employer left a mess of files and papers. His laptop sat open as well along with a glass of liquor half empty. No wonder the fool had been even more careless. He was no doubt drunk by the time he stumbled out. Jason rolled his eyes at the cliché of it all and leaned over the desk to look at the mess. Some of it was nonsense or useless, but most seemed important.

Jason hit the jackpot. Shipments, product, buyers and sellers, it was all here. The alpha really was a complete idiot. How had he managed to gain any power like this?

Focused so intently on his finds and so secure in being alone, Jason allowed his awareness to lax. He never noticed Deathstroke standing behind him in the doorway. The mercenary paused, a grin spreading across his face. He hadn’t been expecting quite a splendid view. He leaned against the door frame; crossed his arms over his chest; and raked his eyes over long legs covered in pristine white stockings and lace. The skirt was laughably short, barely covering the omega’s ass when Jason stood up. The stiff ruffles of it had the skirt standing up with Jason bent over the desk.

It gave an unobstructed view of the tight lace panties clinging to the omega’s form. Slade’s eye traced along the line of thick thighs up to the lace curved tightly around a plump ass all on show for anyone who walked in.

Slade had incredible self-control. It was something he was well known for. He controlled every nerve in his body, had restraint others dreamed off. He wasn’t one to fall for simple temptations like the common alpha thug. He didn’t drool over a busty woman or chase down the first omega to crook a finger. He wasn’t a young volatile alpha anymore. He had matured. An omega dressed scantily in a sexy maid outfit wouldn’t deter him from his contract.

But his omega dressed in a sexy maid outfit and bent over a desk was a different thing entirely.

As silently as he entered, Slade made his way over to the distracted omega only making a noise when he was close enough to grip Jason’s hips. Jason jumped swallowing a yelp as he bolted up. The hands on his hips squeezed. He knew that armor at his back intimately. Slade had a habit of sneaking up on him.

“Slade,” Jason hissed looking over his shoulder at Deathstroke’s mask.

Slade hummed. “And why exactly is my mate here dressed up all prettily for some upstart?”

“I’m undercover, asshole.”

Slade hummed again. Jason another short yelp when Slade yanked him back against him; the alpha’s hard groin pressing against his ass. That got a growl out of Jason.

“Now isn’t time to fool around.”

Slade lifted one hand, trailing it up the delicate fabric of the dress to the low cut bodice. He got another growl when slipping a finger against the bare skin of Jason’s cleavage. He ignored it, trailing his gloved fingers up along his collarbone and enjoying the shiver when he cupped his hand around Jason’s throat.

Slade lowered his mouth to his mate’s ear. “Your employer won’t be making it back for a few hours.”

Jason shuddered against him. He closed his eyes; let out a breath; and pressed his palms against Slade’s thighs. His hips started moving on their own, grinding his ass back against the alpha. It was more of a tease considering Slade could barely feel him through the armor, but it worked all the same. Jason fluttered his lashes and bit his bottom lip all in an effort to taunt his mate which seemed to work. The grip around his throat tightened with the low growl rumbling from Slade’s throat.

It was easy to break out of the alpha’s hold. Jason simply twisted to face him, staring up into the mask with that devilish grin. His hands slid up unforgiving armor, tapping his fingers against the kevlar. Jason cocked his head, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He trailed his hands up behind his mate’s head hooking his arms around Slade’s neck and leaning up on his toes. Kissing the mask where Slade’s mouth would be was just mocking him.

“Kid,” Slade growled low. His voice was a mix of arousal and irritation.

Jason pulled back, an actual giggle falling from his lips as his eyes squeezed closed in mirth. He gazed at Slade through sultry eyes. “Let me make it up to you.”

Slade watched as Jason slid down his body and settled on his knees. Those taunting fingers found the hidden catches in Deathstroke’s armor. The low mix of a hiss and growl pulled a smirk across Jason’s face when he slipped his hand into his mate’s suit. Slade was already rock hard when Jason got his hand on his cock. Jason groaned himself and freed Slade from the confines of his armor. The alpha’s cock stood long and thick. Precum dripped from the swollen head filling the air with the heady scent of musk.

It also drowned the lesser alpha’s scent Jason realized distantly.

With heavy lids, Jason felt himself drool over the impressive cock standing proud before him. Any omega would drool over it. Ducking his head, Jason pressed a rather chaste kiss to the base of Slade’s cock. He made his way slowly, tortuously up along the shaft pressing whispers of kisses along Slade’s skin. Slade groaned. He buried his hand in curly hair, giving a slight tug to egg Jason on. The omega just smirked against his shaft, kissing the very tip of his cock before flicking his eyes up to meet Slade’s.

“What’s the matter, Alpha?” Jason teased gripping the base of Slade’s cock and giving him a squeeze. “You said we have time.”

Slade tightened his grip in Jason’s hair, tugging enough to tilt his omega’s head back. “I don’t have patience.”

Jason huffed and rolled his eyes, but the smile remained. Slade dragged his head against his cock pointedly. Jason lapped at his dripping head, tongue delving into the slit briefly before letting his lips part and swallowing down Slade’s cock. The alpha groaned, head dropping back briefly before rolling back to watch Jason’s slow but steady descent. He kept his grip on the omega’s hair light allowing Jason to move his head. He watched Jason bob his head along his shaft getting Slade wet as Jason swallowed him down.

Slade tightened his grip to prevent Jason from moving. The omega let out a questioning sound but didn’t protest. The first thrust was light and shallow and Jason dropped his jaw and relaxed his throat in response. The next thrust went deeper. Jason moaned around the cock pushing into his mouth. His eyes fell closed and he settled his hands on Slade’s hips. Slade gripped his head thrusting leisurely into that hot wet mouth. Jason swallowed once before completely giving in. He could feel the stretch in his jaw. His tongue was pressed down with the wide girth sliding over it. Tears formed in his eyes when he felt Slade push into his throat.

It was a testament to how often Jason swallowed his cock that his throat opened so easily. Jason settled into it, keeping himself lax and pliant while the cock drove down his throat and periodically blocked his airway. Saliva built up in his mouth with his inability to swallow. It coated Slade’s cock and dropped from his chin.

“Look at you, so filthy.” Slade rumbled. He combed his fingers through black locks. “What kind of maid are you making such a mess?”

Jason moaned. His throat fluttered around the intrusion earning a groan from Slade as the alpha’s hips jerked further. Jason choked as Slade forced his cock deeper. Squeezing his eyes closed and with his face pressed against Slade’s pelvis, Jason focused on staying calm and relaxed while Slade held him in place, grinding his hips. The lack of air made his eyes water, but Jason didn’t protest. He swallowed around Slade’s cock and listened to the dirty praise falling from his mate’s mouth.

When Slade finally pulled back slow and easy, Jason gasped for air. He fell to his hands coughing. His throat stung and his voice was no doubt wrecked. Slade didn’t move, just simply watched Jason recover. He didn’t wait long. Jason yelped as he was yanked up and promptly deposited on the desk, knocking some files and something expensive by the sound of the crash. He looked up at the impassive Deathstroke mask still very much breathless. Slade grabbed a leg and yanked him closer to the edge of the desk. The panties were promptly ripped off leaving Jason both naked and lamenting the ruined silks. He didn’t have long to sit on it before being spread wide and Slade slammed home.

“Fuck!” Jason screeched falling back against the desk. Throwing his head back, his nails racked across the surface leaving gouges in the wood. He heard Slade chuckle over him and vowed to get his revenge but for now, he was too busy being overwhelmed by the massive dick impaling him at the moment. “Shit, you asshole.”

Slade hummed. His gloved hand swept up Jason’s thigh sending shivers down when rough leather teased skin. The other hand settled on his hip in a bruising grip. It was all the warning Jason got before Slade pulled out and slammed home. It punched another yelp from his throat. Slade showed no mercy. His hips slammed hard into his omega, cock spearing through and punching the air from Jason’s lungs. The pace was grueling and brutal, but absolutely everything Jason loved. His nails dug into the wood or scratched uselessly at Slade’s armor. Eventually, he settled on gripping Slade’s wrist holding his hips.

With each thrust, Jason bounced along the surface of the desk. Slade alone held him in place with fingers digging into plump flesh and leaving possessive bruises. Slade’s knot teased against Jason, threatening to stretch him wide and denying him at the same time. The air was thick with sex and arousal. Jason could taste it on his tongue along with the musk of his mate. He wanted it bad. Bringing his free leg up, Jason dragged Slade closer. The alpha obliged, releasing his grip to brace against the desk with Jason’s one leg still trapped over his shoulder.

The following moan was porn worthy with how Jason arched, fingers curling against chest armor. His toes curled. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was close, so damn close and Slade continued to string him along by grinding short and deep but not knotting him.

Jason growled low, baring his teeth at his mate. “Fucking knot me already, you ass.”

Slade’s grin was feral though Jason couldn’t see. Without an answer, he slammed hard enough to cause Jason to jolt. The omega’s mouth fell open in a broken gasping moan. Jason’s whole body locked up in ecstasy with his climax rocketing through him. Slade groaned at the feeling of Jason’s body milking his cock, squeezing his knot. He couldn’t resist. Jason moaned as Slade came, coating his walls and driving his cum deeper with each aborted thrust.

It took almost ten minutes for the two to regain their breath and come back to earth. Slade pulled back from where he had slumped against Jason nearly crushing the omega. It was times like that that made Jason grateful for his size. He loved feeling his mate’s weight on him like any omega, but Slade was big even for an alpha. Slade smirked as he realized Jason was so out of it he didn’t realize he was purring.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, kid.” Slade mused.

That got the omega’s attention. Jason’s eyes snapped open wide and almost panicked. “Fuck, it’s Valentine’s Day already? Shit! This case was supposed to be wrapped up already!”

“Luckily it seems you’ve just made a big break and your brother can take care of the arrest while you have dinner with your mate.” Slade mused.

Jason dropped his head back against the desk with a sigh. “You know, it’s supposed to be dinner first and then sex.”

Slade simply laughed. “Well, we can certainly have sex after dinner too.”

“We better.” Jason growled. "But dinner first."

[romankowalskirp]

Meeting Ellsworth

One shot of Roman finally getting to have a conversation with Ellsworth... but it doesn’t go anything like he intended.

The anger and frustration that Roman felt after his 'chat' with Ignatius, which was more like an assault as far as he was concerned, put Roman at breaking point. So he'd done the only thing he could think of, packing a bag and disappearing for a few days. He'd planned to stay away for at least two weeks, just to get him to the other side of the full moon, and had checked himself into a very secluded cabin that was in the middle of the moors. The paths to the cabin were rough too, so no-one was likely to disturb him.

He spent a lot of the time there just brooding, getting angry, and breaking the furniture, which he then fixed with magic. He'd taken his guitar, and so when he wasn't in too much of a rage, he began to play music. It was music that reflected his mood, angry and aggressive, but it helped a little. But not enough for him to really think about going home just yet.

When his phone rang on the fourth day, waking him from his sleep, he'd sighed and picked it up, expecting it to be either Aolani or Ignatius wanting to know where he was. Instead it was a number he didn't recognise, and so he answered it cautiously. "I am calling on behalf of Ellsworth Enterprises," the voice said, making Roman sit bolt upright in the bed. "We might be able to squeeze you in for a meeting at 1pm today, if you are available?" When Roman had confirmed, he'd been given an address and asked "not to be late". He glanced at the clock, seeing that it was already 12pm, and so he rushed through the shower and headed to the address.

He probably should have told someone where he was going, but he didn't. Instead, he turned up at the address and then glanced back at the information he'd written down, just to check. No, it was right, and so Roman had walked into the warehouse-turned-gym with some trepidation.

"May I help you?" the man behind the front desk asked.

"Yeah, I've got a meeting at one wit-"

"There's no need to explain further, Mr. Kowalski," the man said, leaning over to grab the phone. "If you just wait here, someone will be down to meet you."

"Look, I don't have time for-"

"Please take a seat," the man insisted, putting the phone to their ear and dialing a number.

With a frustrated sigh, Roman went to one of the seats and waited, elbows on his knees and watching all of the doors.

From a door at the far side of the reception desk came a man in an immaculate suit. He clocked Roman immediately, who had turned up in scuffed jeans, a black t-shirt, and face covered in facial hair. The disappointment was evident. "Mr. Kowalski?" he asked, watching as Roman got to his feet. "Please follow me."

Despite the fact that the hairs on the back of Roman's neck were standing on end, he got to his feet and followed. They were led down a long corridor and seemingly to the back of the warehouse. Roman's hands flexed, and he wondered if he should make a run for the exit when the man stopped and gestured to a door in front of them. "She'll see you now."

"She?" Roman asked, only for the man to open the door and wait for him to go inside. As the doors shut behind him, Roman found himself in a large room that was more like a private gym. Surprising, given the extensive equipment he'd seen in the gym that they were already in. In the centre of the room was a ring, complete with caged walls, and in it were two people. One was a large, burly man, head shaven, while the other was a slender, blonde woman who barely looked out of her teenage years. The two had been sparring when Roman had walked in, though they stopped as he approached them.

"Thanks, Rex," the blonde said to the burly man, smiling at him as he nodded his head and wandered off to exit the ring. The woman then turned to Roman. "I'm sorry about this, Roman. I'd wanted to talk to you properly, but my training is important. Hop in the ring and we'll talk."

Roman stared at her. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

The woman raised her eyebrows at him, putting her hands on her hips as Rex paused by the exit door. "Let me be honest with you. I don't like swearing. I've also got a really busy week and this is the only time that I have to talk. So if you want to talk to me, then this is the only chance you're going to get for a while."

"But I don't want to talk to you. I want to talk to Grosvernor Ellsworth."

"Grosvernor Ellsworth," the woman repeated, letting out a small sigh. "I hate to break it to you, but you don't get meetings with him. He either just turns up or..." she paused, taking a deep breath in. She leaned against the fence, "His health took a turn for the worse. All of the magic in the world and still we can't quite figure out cancer. He's been carrying on as best as he can, but he's not been well for a while and that's affected his judgement. Right now he is in the care of some private healers, who are making him as comfortable as they can until he passes away."

"So why am I here?"

The blonde blinked at him before offering a smile. She took some steps back towards the centre of the ring. "You've got to come into the ring to find out," she told him, looking oddly gleeful at the idea. "You can pretend that you aren't curious if you want, but we both know that you're going to get in the ring. Not only because you want answers but also because you're desperate for a fight."

Roman scoffed. "I'm not fighting you."

"Why not?"

"You look about sixteen."

"I'm twenty."

"I'd break you in half."

"Oh I'd like to see you try." The gleeful look was still on her face.

With an audible sigh, Roman walked around to the steps and climbed up to the gate, walking into the ring and facing her as the gate shut behind him. He wasn’t good at resisting temptation at the best of times, but he was so frustrated that he’d even take fighting someone clearly not capable of beating him. "If Grosvernor Ellsworth is so ill, why am I here?"

The blonde pulled off her oven gloves and grabbed some fresh from the side, as well as some bandages. She walked towards Roman, pausing when she saw him take some steps back. "I’ve let you this far into my gym. You really think I’d wait until you got here to do something? For someone worried about snapping me like a twig, you sure are twitchy."

"That tends to happen when I don't get answers," he growled.

She started walking towards him. "Well, I can give you a few, if you stop growling like a beast." She gestured to his hands and Roman held them out, watching as she started to bandage them.

Roman had been about to say something when he took a deep breath in, freezing as he recognised the scent in the air. "What the hell is a werewolf doing running an Ellsworth gym?"

She grinned, not taking her eyes off of her task. "I have to say, I was expecting you to catch on sooner."

Roman growled once more.

Her eyes flicked up to his and he noticed the way that her jaw tightened. "You're a man, not a mutt," she told him, tugging on the bandages to make sure they were fastened in place properly. She passed him the gloves to put on, walking away to go and put on her own once more. "My name is Chelsea, by the way. I'm Grosvernor's daughter, and I'm taking over the enterprise."

The news stunned Roman enough that he almost missed the left hook she threw at him, stepping backwards just in time to avoid it. His face hardened as he saw the glimmer in her eyes, and he threw his own punch back. He was surprised when she deftly blocked it and practically danced around him.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she said, putting her hands out and doing a dramatic bow. “In a lot of ways, I’m my father’s daughter.”

Roman took advantage of her distraction to throw another punch at her, following the right hook with a left upper-cut. She blocked both, but only just, the force of the punches forcing her to take a step back. He didn’t stop though, watching as her hands came up to block each punch he threw her way. She stepped back each time, though there was no fear on her face, only determination. “Is that why you sent people to burn my bar?” Roman asked, punches and his own heavy breathing breaking up each word.

She yanked her head back hard, as though stepping back, but relaxed her block to punch Roman square in the chest. The glove hit him but he didn’t stagger, bringing his arm up to stop her from doing it again. Chelsea stepped back from him then, breathing hard with a stern look on her face. “That was my father. I said earlier that his illness has affected his judgement. He’s made some bad calls.”

“Like hiring Perdita?”

Saying the name made Chelsea lash out at Roman, and he brought his arms up. Her punches hit his forearms with a force he hadn’t expected, and he could see the rage in her face. “Perdita Bullock has been a thorn in my side these last few years.” Chelsea stopped attempting to punch him, using her arm to brush the loose hair from her face. “It has taken me five months to get enough dirt on her to prove to my father what she’s been up to. Breaking you out of Azkaban? The kidnapping of Avery Evans? The likely murder of Antonia Falco? That was all her doing.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. Roman froze in place, breath halting in his chest. His arms dropped down as he stared at Chelsea.

Her face reflected the horror he was feeling. “You didn’t know,” she said, making a move as though to reach for him. It wasn’t clear whether he flinched away or she dropped her hand first. “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t.” Roman hissed, the rage bubbling up inside of him once more. He didn’t know why he felt so angry. Toni had betrayed them and he hadn’t seen her since that night. And yet he still felt angry, upset, and hurt to learn that she was dead. “How did Toni die?”

“I don’t think you-”

“How. Did. She. Die?” he asked, raising his gaze from the floor to stare at Chelsea.

The blonde stared right back. “She went missing. It was only two days ago that we learned she’d died The police ruled it as an accidental death - suicide. She had swallowed five lots of a bad batch of Wolfsbane.”

Roman closed his eyes for a moment. A bad batch of Wolfsbane could do anything to you. It could simply not work and let the wolf take over, it could poison you, it could burn you from the inside out, just to name a few possibilities. “But you think otherwise?”

“Perdita has a tendency to use Wolfsbane to threaten people.” She looked at Roman, noticing the flash of recognition in his eyes. “Did she threaten Aolani with it?”

Roman narrowed his gaze and Chelsea held up her hands.

“Okay, so bringing her up is a bad idea-”

“Why am I here?” Roman snapped. “Why am I actually fucking here? Have you dragged me down here just to say that that bitch murdered my friend or are you actually going to say something useful?!” He moved quickly towards her, shoving her back against the caged wall of the ring.

Despite the aggression being shown by Roman, Chelsea was relaxed. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the rage that he was showing, her voice cool and calm as she spoke despite the flash of anger in her own eyes. “I invited you here to apologise for the treatment that you and your friends have received because of Ellsworth Enterprises. I want to offer to pay for any damages done to your property in the attempted arson attack and replace any products lost. If you send me an invoice, I’ll deal with it. I also want to talk to Ignatius Nashton and Faith Evans to see if they would be willing to accept payments towards private counselling sessions for Avery.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“This organisation could be a legitimate business, but in order to do that, I have to fix the mistakes my father made.” She continued to meet Roman’s gaze, unflinching in her resolve. “I want to help werewolves instead of blackmailing them into working with us. Now, are you going to let me go or do we need to talk about your anger management issues?”

Roman kept his grip on her.

Chelsea sighed, putting her hands on Roman’s arms for leverage and bringing her legs up to kick him back from her. The two of them went backwards, with Roman leaping to his feet and going for Chelsea again. For a few minutes the two of them sparred, trading blows until they were both exhausted.

It was Chelsea who recovered first, getting up and walking out of the cage. She came back a moment later with a small towel and a bottle of water, both of which she tossed to Roman. Now on his feet with the gloves tossed to one side, he uncapped the water and downed half the bottle. “You are the calmest wolf I’ve ever seen this close to the full moon,” Roman said, using the towel to dab the sweat from his face.

Chelsea shrugged her shoulders. “I was bitten when I was nine. I spent all of my time at school getting into fights. It was only when I started attending classes at the gym that I found a more constructive outlet for my anger. The problem comes when people find out who my father is.”

Roman scoffed, drinking another gulp of water.

“You’re not scared of me.”

“Why would I be?”

She grinned at him, pointing her finger his way. “Exactly!” She nodded her head towards the door that the burly man from earlier had walked through. “Rex is a good teacher, but he worries about hurting me and he fights clean-”

“Don’t even say it-”

“So you could work with me instead!”

“I’ve got a pub to run.”

“Is that why you disappeared into the middle of nowhere for a fortnight without telling anyone where you’d gone?” she challenged him, dropping her towel at her feet.

“I was only gone for four days.”

“But you paid for two weeks, Roman.” She looked at him, folding her arms across her chest. “Everyone knows you have anger management issues. This would be a constructive way to let that aggression out and earn some money.”

Roman headed for the gate. “That’s exactly what Perdita said too.”

The bottle of water hit the gate before Roman reached it. He turned to see Chelsea standing there, anger on her face. “I am not Perdita. I know what it’s like to feel terrified of hurting everyone you love because you’re so angry. Just think about it.”

Without saying another word, Roman walked right out of the building.

[creativelyderangedme]

Breaking Point Chapter 3

Finding himself in Marinette’s care, Adrien tells her the truth. 

Want to read the rest of the story? AO3 is updated up to Chapter 7

Chapter 3: The Confession

It had been some time since Adrien had found himself in the comfort of Marinette’s bedroom. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been over, or why, but he clearly recalled the warmth the Dupain-Cheng home had always brought to him.

There was always so much love here. You could feel it practically radiate from every surface. Like the place was somehow imbued with the kind of homeyness you'd only find on the Hallmark channel.

And it felt lived-in, compared to the nearly clinical cleanliness the Agreste mansion always seemed to have. Even his own bedroom felt more like a sterilized lab than a teen-aged boy’s living quarters.

Those who got a chance to see his room joked and swooned over all the things he had.

But none of that mattered to him. Those possessions meant nothing when he had no one to share them with. He’d gladly trade everything he had for a single night in a room like the one he was about to enter.

Climbing up through the trap door, he glanced around and smiled at how much it screamed Marinette. The bright pink walls, the half-finished designs cluttering the floor and the multitude of sketches still in progress and design aesthetics pinned to the walls around her desk. The room was, in a word; organized chaos. Okay, two words. Everything having a proper home in piles and stuffed in overflowing organizational bins and drawers. Things that could not fit or had no propper place found refuge on hooks or dangling from the support beam that stretched from floor to high-vaulted ceiling.

This was a place of creativity and unabashed pride and passion, and Adrien couldn’t help but allow himself a moment to breathe it in, noting the undercurrent of vanilla and sugar that always seemed to make up Marinette’s natural smell.

One of the perks of being the baker’s daughter, he supposed.

“This place smells like the inside of a sugar cookie,” a small voice complained, interrupting Adrien’s thoughts, quickly reminding him of the ever-present being resting in his pocket.

Plagg hadn’t said anything the entire morning, so he’d nearly forgotten he was in his shirt until then, “Some of us might actually prefer that over smelling like cheese all the time,” Adrien mumbled, keeping his voice low to keep from alerting Marinette to the extra presence she’d unknowingly invited into her home.

The little black kwami peaked out, looking around sleepily like he’d just woken from a long nap. Probably had, with how unusually quiet he'd been. “Too sweet for me,” He groaned, but the scenery change must have finally caught his attention as he turned a curious look on his chosen, “My, my, Casanova, finding yourself in a young lady’s bedroom in the middle of a school day?”

Okay, sure, to anyone who wasn’t in the know, this definitely looked bad. But it wasn’t like that. Not that it kept the heat from his face at the insinuations Plagg was making to the contrary. “Sh-shut-up Plagg. It’s not like - I-I didn’t know where else to go.” He sputtering, before meandering to the chaise, allowing himself to drop into its plush cushion and take in not only the room but his thoughts.

Because, again, he was reminded of the lingering question: why was this the place he'd run to in a moment of crisis? But he just didn't have the mental capacity to explore those thoughts in full right now.

Especially not under the watchful gaze of Plagg. No way in hell he’d give him any more ammunition to tease him with.

His shirt shifted slightly as the black cat Kwami released himself from the model's pocket and came flying up to hover in his face, and for a moment it almost looked like he was concerned as he took in the blonde’s features. “You know I’m only kidding, Adrien. Frankly, I’d hide from that liar too. Maybe even much more,” he muttered that last part, and Adrien would have missed it if the room wasn’t so quiet.

It brought a small grin to his face, despite the implications of such a statement, “Thanks Plagg, but I don’t think Ladybug would take too kindly to us using cataclysm on another living being.”

No matter how much said living being might deserve it.

And yes, the thought had occurred to him. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

“Offer’s still on the table.” There was a slight shift in his tone that honestly made Adrien believe he was serious.

A scary prospect.

But duly noted.

Adrien chuckled, rolling his eyes, trying not to linger on the idea too long lest he gives in to temptation, “Yeah, yeah. Make yourself scarce. Marinette will be back any second.”

Plagg hesitated only a moment, zooming up to head but him softly on the cheek in a rare show of affection before whizzing off somewhere Adrien hadn’t been able to track.

Despite his insistence otherwise, the Kwami of destruction had been rather soft on him the last couple of weeks. The teasing lacked its usual dig. He'd complain less when Adrien needed to transform - hell, he practically encouraged it. And regardless of Plagg's distaste for getting too emotional, he'd been rather talkative as of late. Coaxing Adrien into talking to him; even if Plagg could only handle 'talking' about that sort of thing for a short period of time. Honestly, his Kwami was probably keeping him saner than he'd given the creature credit for. Left to his own devices and thoughts, there was no telling where Adrien would be right now.

Mentally, the model made a note to himself to pick up some extra cheese for the little glutton. He just hoped the little ball of mischief would stay out of trouble while they were here.

It was quiet again, then. Leaving the blonde to look around the room once more and all the things and feelings it represented that he longed for on a constant basis. The ability to be messy and creative. To be able to stretch out and just be himself. Not having to worry about who would see or judge him or his Father’s business if he messed up or stepped out of line.

No strict rules or diet.

No fashion shows or photoshoots.

No handsy stalker admirers to ward off.

In the process of getting cozy, he found he’d snagged a small decorative pillow that he cradled close to his chest as that last thought hit him.

Everyone just assumed that because he was a model, it was fine to hang all over him. Like he was just another piece of his father’s fashion line someone could try on.

Like he wasn’t even a person.

And of course, he was a guy. What guy wouldn’t want every eligible lady fawning all over him, right? Wrong . Sure, over the years, he’d grown almost numb to it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him. Just cause he was a guy didn’t mean he wanted everyone's hands on him all the time.

It felt like no part of him was sacred. He belonged to his father, and the masses, and more recently; Lila - and the memory of her trying to worm her way into his lap that morning had his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

"So..."

T he blonde startled as he realized his host had appeared while he was lost in thought, tray in hand with a number of croissants and a couple of glasses of juice, sitting it carefully between them on the chaise as she joined him. She didn't look right at him, preferring to stare at the floor as her eyes darted slightly, seemingly trying to find the right words.

Adrien squeezed the pillow he'd been holding a bit tighter, clearing his throat of a lump he hadn't realized had formed, "So..." he mimicked awkwardly, not quite able to look at her either, except in quick glances.

One said glance made him pause as he watched her wrestle with something internally before taking a deep breath and looking back at him with resolution. A kind of steely look that reminded him of a certain spotted heroine and the thought made him pink a bit.

"Adrien... you asked if you could hide here for a bit, and I want you to be able to work through whatever is bothering you. But..." she swallowed, having to reaffirm something in her own head before continuing.

"We're friends... right?" She asked suddenly, changing the direction of the conversation and making Adrien's brow shoot up questioningly. It was such a soft inquiry and he was suddenly frantic trying to recall if he'd given her any indication that she wasn't one of the most important people in his life.

Maybe he was right that he'd done more damage than good stepping up to Lila. Or not stepping up sooner. Those photoshoots and the attention Lila demanded of him didn't exactly make him out in the best light.

"Of course, Mari! Why would you even ask that? You're one of my best friends!"

That earned him wide bluebell eyes, softly accentuated by a rosy tint warming her cheeks before Marinette smiled at him again. The same smile she'd given before she'd shooed him up the stairs, "Then, as one of your best friends, I'm not going to just let you hide."

The confusion was more than evident on his face as Adrien regarded her now.

Did this mean she was going to make him leave?

She must have read his thoughts because she backtracked quickly, "W-what I mean is - over the last month... I've been really worried about you. I see the looks you give when you think no one is watching." That steely soft expression dissolved slightly as she bit her lip at that last part, "no offense... but you look like a caged animal some days."

He had to sputter a chuckle at that. She wasn't wrong.

And the fact that he moonlighted as a cat-themed superhero made it comical if not a bit ironic.

But it wasn't a moment after those first chuckles left him that he felt his vision blur on him and something slipping down his cheeks without his permission.

Tears? Seriously?

He was crying! Like a goddamn child.

"Sorry-" Adrien mumbled, quickly wiping away the offending moisture from his face.

Because of course, he'd choose now of all times to breakdown. In front of the one person who managed to see right through him and see him for what he was. The only person who seemed to look past the fake smiles and the carefully crafted emotions to the guy drowning beneath.

And of course, it would be the very same person he was trying so hard to protect.

At seeing those wayward tears, Marinette's soft features turned concerned, and she brought a tender hand up to wipe the remaining streaks from his skin, "Please don't apologize. You need to talk to someone, Adrien. Even if there wasn't a psycho maniac out there who can take advantage of your emotions, holding things in like this... it's not healthy.” She gave a wry smile that was anything if not a little self-deprecating, “Trust me on this."

God, how did she do that?

How could she be so right all the time?

How could she see right through him and cut straight to the point like that? Like he hadn't spent the last month trying to convince himself of that very same thing. Knowing he was a liability at best and a ticking time bomb at worst.

How was one person allowed to be so amazing?

They sat there a moment in silence, both staring. He stunned and captivated, she searching and careful.

"Do you trust me?"

He wanted to reply so badly. He wanted to confirm for her in the same resolve she seemed to radiate when she got that look of determination in her eyes, but could only find himself nodding in her presence.

"Then, talk to me.” She encouraged softly, tentatively. As if she were afraid the very notion was going to be taken as an insult on his person. She reached out, placing a hesitant hand on his as it perched on his own knee. “Nothing you say leaves this room. I promise. Not even to Nino and Alya. Not even to my parents."

His lips parted, his mouth dry as he was suddenly forced to come to a decision, all while trying to ignore the sudden warmth that blossomed under his skin where her hand met his.

He'd done all of this with the intention of making Lila leave Marinette alone.

Though, if he were being honest, he was also paying penance for his involvement. For basically having told Marinette to leave well enough alone until Lila walked herself into a corner she couldn't lie herself out of.

Was he really protecting her if he told her the truth?

Was it really a punishment?

And if he did tell her-

Adrien's heart plummeted to his stomach as he was bombarded with the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.

How would she react? Would she hate him? Would she see it for what it was? His attempts to help her in the only way he knew how?

He found himself too afraid to speak. What if he messed this up too? What if by telling her the truth it only made things worse? Marinette was such a strong person. Would she hate that he'd imposed like this? Assuming she couldn't handle all of this on her own? Was that what he'd assumed?

Wouldn't it be better to just keep his mouth shut?

All of that fear came to a startling halt when Marinette wound her fingers with his and grasped them tightly like a lifeline. Gentle. Encouraging. Like she could sense his quick and violent spiral - and for all he knew, she could. She'd proven herself to be extremely observant in the last couple of minutes. Scary observant. Almost Ludybug level observant, which was an even scarier prospect.

Frankly, if she told him right then that she knew he was Chat Noir, he'd be less than surprised.

"I have... a confession..." he muttered before he could stop the words from falling from his mouth. And given his last train of thought, he mentally sorted which confession he meant.

You know, preferably not the one that meant he’d have to give up his miraculous.

Her expression never changed as she willed him to continue.

"The-the reason you were able to come back to school after being expelled. The reason Lila changed her story. I was the one who told her to do that." He chanced, watching her the entire time.

The shift was so subtle. Starting with a couple of fluttering blinks that cued her shock and surprise at this news, like maybe she hadn't heard him correctly and needed a moment to process what he'd said. Then she seemed more confused and concerned with every passing second in the silence that stretched after his confession.

"W-what?" She muttered finally, her voice softer than he'd heard all morning.

He swallowed hard. He'd come this far already. He couldn’t back out now even if he wanted to - and he definitely wanted to. "I told Lila to come up with something to prove your innocence. I made a deal with her so that you could come back."

With each word, there entered a bit of panic in Marinette's eyes and face as she suddenly brought a hand to her mouth.

Here it was. She was upset.

Of course she was upset.

He'd spoken up for her without asking what she wanted. Again. He'd stepped in her way, and now he was going to lose the only person who could see him.

And that knowledge ached painfully deep in his chest.

But that didn't matter right now. He'd take anything Marinette threw at him. It was the least he deserved.

"Adrien... why? Why would you do that?"

His mouth dried as he watched the glistening of tears well up in her bluebell eyes, trying to find the right words, "she was going to destroy you. I-I couldn't just stand by and let that happen. Not again."

He expected a lot of things to happen after that. A slap. A stern glare and talking to. Maybe even a swift banishment from her room before being permanently banned from the bakery for life for his assumptions and actions.

He hadn't expected for the girl who was oddly strong for her size to practically tackle him as she lunged across the chaise and wrapped her arms around him in a crushing hug.

His eyes blew wide at the sudden contact, taking a sharp breath through his nose and finding his mind fogging slightly and warmth flooding his chest and face as he was enveloped with her scent and a sense of... safety. That's the only thing he could call it. Safe.

It was nothing like what he felt when Chloe or Lila or any of his other fans touched him.

He shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as he did. But if this were his punishment, he'd gladly take it.

It was an oddly satisfying sensation that seeped through him; made him relax into her without much thought or effort. His eyes fluttering closed as any semblance of will melted like putty in the girl’s embrace. Tentatively, almost shyly, he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame. Enjoying the feeling of someone he cared for neatly tucked against him.

He’d always known Marinette gave some of the best hugs. But this - this was something else. Something meant only for him.

It was a feeling someone could get addicted to. This feeling of completeness.

So of course, it jarred him when it ended too soon and felt too cold when the girl squeaked before pushing herself back. Staring wide-eyed at him like he'd grown horns or something.

He was suddenly wondering if hugging her back had been a bad idea.

Maybe he’d overstepped his bounds.

Why was this whole situation so confusing?

He was opening his mouth to start apologizing when Marinette scrambled back to where she’d sat previously and began smacking her own cheeks, “Stupid! Stupid!”

No, not just the situation. Why were girls so confusing?

Confusing or not, if there was one thing Marinette Dupain-Cheng was not , it was stupid. And he wouldn't stand to hear her talk about herself that way. “Hey! Stop that!” He grabbed her wrists to keep her from smacking her cheeks again, “Why are you hitting yourself?”

“B-because… you came here looking for someone to help and I wanted to be there for you and then I just throw myself at you!” She groaned loudly, throwing her head back dramatically. Like this was the worst thing she could have possibly done.

And Adrien could only stare.

And then he had to purse his lips together tightly.

Because it was downright comical.

He wanted to laugh out loud in relief and elation.

After everything...  

He shook his head at the girl still in his grasp, “You don’t have to worry about that Mari!” He chuckled despite himself, unable to keep it back anymore. Because he couldn’t help but find her antics endearing in the best of ways; even when she assaulted herself. Though, he kept a gentle hold of her writs in case she decided to start slapping again. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve always really enjoyed your hugs.”

She peeked at him from under her lashes and a pout on her lips as she slowly righted herself. Unsure of something. And for the life of him, he couldn’t make heads or tails of what could possibly be going through her mind to make her look at him like that. But he couldn't deny how adorable she made it look.

But he had another more pressing question on his mind.

“Not to embarrass you or anything, but why - why did you hug me? I thought you’d be angry.” He asked, finally releasing her wrists when he was sure her face was safe from their wrath.

“Angry?” She sputtered, then thinking for a moment she continued, “I mean… I might be a little angry, but not because you did it.” She paused after emphasizing the words, rolling her eyes at her own train of thought, her brain working just as quickly as the words forming on her lips, “Okay, yes, fine, maybe I am a little mad because you did. But mostly I’m just upset you did it alone . If you’d told me from the start, you wouldn’t have had to suffer that witch by yourself this last month. I could have been there to back you up.” She sighed, glancing back at him with a darker shade of pink splashing her cheeks, “But… I could never be angry at you, Adrien. Not for long, anyway. Not when you did it to protect me.”

He noted that she’d managed to sid-step his first question, not really answering him. But given the way her body seemed to buzz with anxiety, he left it alone. “Well, I’m glad for that, at least. The last thing I would ever want is for you to be mad at me,” he mumbled, finding more truth in those words than he expected as he rubbed the back of his neck in nervous habit. “As long as you’re not disappointed too. Because every teenager knows that’s much worse.”

There was a second before Marinette all but fell off the chaise in a fit of giggles that sounded like music and Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle with her.

“God, you’re such a dork!”

At least she wasn’t a ball of anxiety anymore. He liked being able to talk to her like this - openly, honestly, or at least as honest as possible given the number of secrets he had to keep. It made him hopeful that nothing would change between them. Or, at least, if things did change, they’d change for the better. It made him hopeful that they’d be able to grow closer as friends.

"You mean it though?" even with the joking, he couldn't help but try and confirm. He wanted no room for misinterpretation. "You're really not angry?

Marinette’s giggles slowly died and she was left side glancing him with a decisive nod from where she sat, “Of course, I mean it. Adrien, you're one of my best friends too. I wouldn't lie about something like that."

And it was like she'd given him his birthday and Christmas all on the same day.

He knew - or at least, he'd always hoped. But hearing it out loud like that was probably the best thing he'd experienced in a very long time. And it was not wasted on him how sad that was as a concept, but he'd address that another time.

Marinette giggled at what must have been the dopiest grin he'd ever given her, "But seriously. I just… I can’t believe you’d do something like that for me. I mean, it all makes sense now - why she’s been so attached to you the last couple weeks.”

Adrien blanched at the reminder, swapping grins for grimaces at Lila’s advances. She sure as hell wasn’t being subtle about it. He’d actually questioned whether the definition of ‘friends’ had changed without his knowledge as she’d taken the concept as an invitation to invade nearly every aspect of his life and personal space. But he shook that thought away. He’d put up with it for a reason. “I just couldn’t believe she actually got you expelled. And after I basically told you to leave it alone, I just couldn’t bear not doing something.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly before glancing away, a strange mixture of emotions entering her gaze, almost making her look... guilty, “A-actually… I-I have a confession too.”

A blonde brow rose curiously at her sudden shift, at the nervous tension that overwhelmed her posture again.

“I-I actually,” she cleared her throat, “That is to say, I feared she’d do something like that eventually. I just… hadn’t expected the lengths she’d go to.”

“What do you mean? Why would you assume she’d try something like that?”

The girl bit her lip nervously, watching him, gauging how much she wanted to share. He could see her mentally weighing her words before coming to a decision with a heavy relenting sigh.

“Adrien, Lila threatened me.”

[vegetacide]

Whump●tober -Shaky Hands

Veg-notables: So I decided that this one needed a revisit as the aftermath of 10.Unconscious intrigued me.. I intended to take a break today.. oops.. failed. 

@gumnut-logic  ::sneak attack…::

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: Post brain explosions.. With residual ouchiness and discombobulation

Characters: Virgil/Kayo...

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Previous post for this can be found HERE 

1. Shaky hands

Enjoy…

oOo

The fight to regain consciousness was a grueling task as Virgil’s brain sluggishly began to turn over and his internal dialogue fought to crawl back to the land of coherent thought. The first snips of reality peppering in and out of cognizance were in a weird tableau of hazy screen shots that left him confused and utterly disoriented.

The first thing to really registered in the slow moving molasses of his mind was the soft pad of retreating steps.  The sound stood out in sharp contrast to everything else for some reason but he just couldn’t muster the energy to figure out why. No sooner had the thought entered his mind, than it was briskly whisked away with the invasion of light flashing over his closed eyelids.  

The residual ache behind his twinging optic nerves thrummed along with his heartbeat and forced him to shut down anything too complicated to process. Which didn’t leave him with much to work with except maybe breathing.  

Uhg,  what the hell? 

Shielding his eyes as the bright afterimages swirled about the inky darkness he wanted to marshal something from his flagged system to seek out and destroy the invasive luminescence.  Unfortunately that would involve ambulation and that too seemed beyond his current abilities.

A twing again.. Right, stick with breathing..   

Cautiously, he cracked open gritty eyes. Blinked repeatedly at the sting as they instantly began to water. A quick, foggy eyed glance about told him what he needed to know; location.  He was in his room, though how he actually got there was a blank in his memory.

From what little he could remember, he had been on the flight deck of Two running post flight checks when the first inclination of an oncoming migraine started to present itself.  After that, things grew very murky.  Tiny little blips of colour and texture.  A hard, cold surface, ebony richness, the scent of jasmine,  a soft lilting voice, a warm breath across his skin then there was nothing. 

Reaching up a hand to rub at the tension at his brow, a tug on his arm forced him to open his eyes again.  “..shit…” He softly cursed as he took note of the IV line and his eyes traced up the line to hazily take in the bag of saline hanging above the headboard. 

He’d really done it to himself this time and he was not looking forward to sorting this mess out once he was back on his feet.  With the way he was feeling though that was still a while off.   

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, Virgil heaved his torso off the bed with herculean effort and almost immediately regretted the action when the room started to spin and distort.  Maybe not one of his best ideas but considering what had transpired over the last so many hours he didn’t think he could possibly dig himself in any deeper than he already was. 

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed,  he leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, elbows braced firmly on his knees. He was intent on getting his ass out of bed and across the short distance to the his ensuite bathroom but as he looked up he almost groaned at how far away the door appeared to be. The temptation to just return to the soft confines of his bed was growing proportionately to his waning strength.  

Staring at the bathroom door just five feet from him, he willed his body to heed his mental commands.  Feet firmly planted and he readied muscles to bunch and push off when a hand landed on the back of his neck and a quiet voice whispered in his ear.

“And where do you think your going?”   

Flinching as the figure behind him scared the living shit out of him, Virgil found himself thumping to the floor with a not so very manly yelp.   Pressing his hand to his racing heart he cursed vehemently. 

“Well, good morning to you too.”  Kayo smiled leaning over the side of the bed and looking down at him.  “Don’t let Grandma hear you swear like that or she is liable to wash your mouth out with soap no matter what state your head is in.”

With the easy grace of someone who knew how to handle herself, Kayo unfurled herself from the bed and crouched down beside him.  “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.” 

All he could manage was a grunt.

Kayo tutted and ducked under his arm to help him up. He sometimes forgot how strong she wasn and in moments like these he was grateful for the practiced ease in which she used it. 

Settling him back on the edge of the bed, she unhooked the saline bag from the quick release.  her eyes concentrating on the task a little too hard for his liking.

There was a pensiveness about her that he knew well.  She was brooding and trying to figure out the best way to broach a subject that she was unsure of.  Not a good thing considering he had a pretty good idea what the content of her musings was.  

Reaching up he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and once again contemplated hermitting himself away for the next century. 

Her cool hands took hold of his forearm and pulled his hand away from his face.  Checking over the catheter, she made sure the valve for the quick release was securely closed and the small bit of line was fastened in place with an extra strip of medical tape. 

“Bathroom.”  She ordered and tugged on his arm

Back on his feet once more Kayo shuffled him off into the bathroom. She stayed a pace behind as he entered the cool confines of the tiled space and as she passed through the door, she adjusted the lights to low knowing his eyes would be sensitive to it for at least the rest of the day.  

While he took care of business, she turned the shower on and adjusted the controls. The muscles across his back tightened as the tension in the room grew  with each passing second. “In you get.”  She said once she was satisfied with the temperature but didn’t meet his eyes.

He obeyed with little complaint. He really didn’t have the energy to put up much of a fight and besides the idea the warm water washing away the sweat and easing his tired muscles did sound appealing.  

Looking down at himself he realized that he was still in his arming tunic from the other day and with a snarl he pulled it up and over his head. His boxer came next though the act of ditching those took some effort as he wobbled like a drunk on one leg. Kayo steadied him with a sturdy arm and he gave a nod of thanks. 

Naked and shivering as the cool air touched his sweaty skin he dragged in a breath, got a whiff of himself and instantly paled.  A lovely combination of sweat and vomit mingled in his nose and he winced as his stomach gave a retaliatory squeeze. 

Biting down on the impulse to toss his cookies again; like really there was anything in there to bring up, he forced his body to move and stepped under the warm spray of the shower. 

Soap, shampoo, rinse, repeat. Stand like a statue and drown.. Was that possible while in the shower?  

The stall door opened and Virgil groggily opened his eyes.  Probably not possible, he mused. Wow he really was out for lunch still. His thoughts were sluggish and random and head felt like it was floating above his body.  

“Out you get.”  Another order and she still wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

Damn it.

Stepping out she dried him off and wrapped a towel around his waist before leading him back to bed. He had to admit the shower was a good idea, it had helped a little though it had sapped what little he had left in the tank on reserve. 

A clean muscle shirt and boxers followed and she pulled back the sheets, an open invitation to get back in. 

Effort expended, he did as she silently asked and sank back into the softness of his bed.  

God, he was tired and he hated the lethargy that was going to dog him for the next few days.  This episode had been a bad one. He knew he had over extended himself but what choice had he had.  Lives had been at stake and if he could do something about it he was duty bound to step up to the plate, consequences be damned… or so he had thought. 

Pushing the pads his fingers into his eye sockets and tried not to let the continued strained silence get to him.  In his state, though his patience for waiting it out lasted a whole of thirty seconds.   “Kay…”

“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard.”  She plowed right over him.  Flattened him by the tone of her voice, the worried edginess to her usually pleasing lilt. 

Crap on a cracker..  Virgil pulled a heavy breath into his lungs and the exhaustion weight down on him.  He was tempted to look and see who had placed the house on his back but the answer to that was obvious.  Himself.

Whatever his intentions at the beginning of all of this….several days ago, he hadn’t  intended on scaring her.  

He kicked himself with a groan. “Kay.  Look, I’m sorry I worried you.  It’s been a hard few days and I didn’t plan this…”

“That’s exactly the problem.”  Her green gaze shifted and lasered in on him.  “You push and push and push and completely forget that you’re human.”

She turned away from him, fusing with the saline bag as she hooked him back up again. Her handling of the IV rough and it was obvious even to his foggy brain that she was uncomfortable revealing this part of herself even to him.  “Do you know what it was like to see you like that?”  Her voice was a whisper but he heard it loud and clear as if she had used a bullhorn.  

With a bit more effort than he cared to admit, he grunted back to his feet and stepped towards her.  Reaching out he caught her hand in his and was dumbfounded to find it shaking.  

Words caught in his throat, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in his ear, his voice rough as her shoulders quaked. Shit  “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder but please don’t cry.”  

Her shoulders silently shuddered under him, the only sign that she would give of her distress and she buried her face into his neck. Her willowy arms encircling his waist and holding on tight as she tried to rein in her rampant emotions. 

Christ, he’d done it this time.  She never cried. He’d really scared her this time for her have become this upset.  

He would rather deal with her ire and scathing tongue.  Her anger was something he knew how to handle and something he much preferred. Tears though? From her?  He was at a complete loss.  

He would do better. He had to.  

He swept a comforting hand down the length of her back and brushed a kissed across her crown.  An unvoiced promise in his actions, he would do anything to make this right again. 

Energy flagging, he pulled her down to the bed with him and tucked her into his side. Comfort and sleep first then they would tackle figuring this out.  He would figure this out. 

The fading ache behind his eyes gave a little thump.  A friendly reminder of what happened when he neglected himself that he wasn’t soon to forget.   

After this he was sure he was going to have to contend with his big brother… Something that he didn’t look forward to considering the state that Kayo was in. 

Shit.... 

The End.

oOo      

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

[dolphin-bouillabaisse]

GO-ctober Prompt, 27

Inktober except without the ink, and with drabbles instead.

Prompt #27 - Coat

(previous | next | beginning)

(find it all on Ao3)

London, 1925

“So, what do you think?” Aziraphale turned in front of the mirror once, twice, before turning fully to face Crowley, who was trying not to slip off of the chair the attendant had brought over.

“I think if this is the thing that made you drag me back to London from Chicago, it better be made from spun gold.”

“Now, there's no need for that.” Aziraphale tutted. “I only wanted your opinion.”

“What for? The suit's already made. You're going to not buy it if I say it looks stupid?”

“I might.” Aziraphale turned back to the mirror, inspecting the waistcoat, his voice turned quiet and almost shy. “You think it's stupid?”

A pause, a very troubled look in the mirror, before Crowley sighed and stood up to saunter over (made even easier by the height and swing her heels gave her).

“I didn't say that.” She straightened the lapels, patted along his shoulders, avoided his eyes. “It's a very nice suit. Fits well. Good choice of material. Something's missing, though.” She turned to the attendant waiting at the end of the dressing room. “I assume you have pocket squares and ties that match?”

“Certainly, ma'am.” The attendant, up to now a silent figure in the back, dashed out to the shop room to pick a selection. He was smart and well-trained enough not to interrupt or even pretend to notice a little lovers' quarrel (well used to them by now, anyway, after 5 years working in a men's tailors), and should've made an exit far sooner, but it had been to tempting. Mr. Fell had never, not once in his various visits to the shop, even mentioned a partner. Certainly not a wife. The lady that had strode in behind him earlier today was the last thing he would've imagined if Mr. Fell had ever mentioned anyone.

They'd picked out a very fetching tie and pocket square (or rather, she had picked one, and Mr. Fell had barely looked at it before agreeing to it), paid, and left with his usual friendly good-byes and promises of another visit, while she'd almost dragged him out.

His colleague sidled up to him.

“Well?” Humphrey asked. “What'd you hear?”

“I don't know what you mean.” Humphrey was fairly new, and not yet as well-versed in the proper behaviour in the shop, and Edward was not going to stoop so low as to gossip.

“Oh, come on. Fell showing up with a lass like that?” A pointed thumb thrown towards the door, where some of her perfume still seemed to linger. “You gotta find out what's going on there.”

“She merely mentioned coming over from Chicago. A very fashionable lady. Good eye for colours.”

“You know how he introduced her when they came in?” Edward had been in the backroom preparing the suit, so Humphrey had been left to greet them at the entrance. He probably hadn't even thought to offer to take their coats. “He called her 'Miss Crowley, a dear friend'. Hah! I'd like some friends like that.”

“I simply assumed she was his fiancée.” A stern look towards the younger attendant. “As you should, when a customer brings in a lady. Unless you know about a wife, of course.”

“Yeah, alright.” Humphrey let out a short whistle. “If he's managed to bag her as a fiancée, I wanna know his secret. To be honest, I always thought he was more... you know. Confirmed bachelor, and all that.”

Edward was not going to dignify that with an answer. However, he had wondered. There was no ring on her finger, he'd noticed as she'd taken the bag from him. The way Mr. Fell had looked at her as she hooked her arms around his elbow, though, left little to wonder about.

The bookshop hadn't changed even an inch since the last time Crowley'd been here years ago, safe for at least twenty new books stacked on top of the shelves.

Still, it felt different. Less... guarded. More protected. She was glad to get inside.

Things had been fine in Chicago, where most people didn't bat an eye at a clearly unwed couple in the streets, but this was London. Crowley's hair and pearls, just a tad too finely decorated for day wear, had already caused some ladies to stare her down on the street. She'd expected it to not feel any less troublesome inside the shop, with collections of angel statuettes staring her down just as well.

Sliding out of her coat, which Aziraphale promptly hung up on the hatstand, and settling down on the sofa in the backroom, made her realise that nagging feeling of constantly being watched had disappeared, though.

No one seemed to care. Heaven was still licking its wounds from the chaos of the years gone past, the Great War and all that came with it. They could be excused not to check in too often with their rather disengaged agent down on earth.

“Maybe I should change.” She mumbled over the rim of the glass Aziraphale had handed her. “Wouldn't want your neighbours to think you're having some sort of illicit affair.”

“And what are they supposed to think if I enter with a lady and leave again for dinner with a gentleman?”

“We're going for dinner now?”

Aziraphale stopped in his tracks, almost stumbling – and he'd finally looked so suave, too, filling his own glass – and mumbled just as quiet as Crowley had.

“Well, I'd assumed- if you're visiting, I mean, you've not been to the Ritz yet, and I-”

Crowley'd smiled, then, actually smiled, and Aziraphale's stutter had come to a halt. The reservations had already been made, anyway.

Dinner had been delicious, as always, and Crowley in her evening dress had looked stunning, as always, and had eaten nothing, as always. She'd had a drink, though, and gloated about how good it felt to openly order it, not having to sneak around in some speakeasy to get a good gin & tonic, even though she was probably supposed to enjoy that all a bit more, demon and breaking the law and whatnot. Aziraphale had thought back to their short time in Chicago on the days before, after she'd run into him in one of said speakeasy's. He'd thought back to her in his rented apartment, a far better drink in hand as she stretched out on the settee and asked him about what he'd been up to, how he'd gotten to America now of all times. He'd thought back to her on the settee, glasses on the floor, all curled up, hair undone, fast asleep.

No one had cared in Chicago. Hell was far too busy handling the mob's work across the entire continent. They could be excused not to check in too often with their rather disinterested agent up on earth.

“So.” Crowley dragged him out of his reverie. “Anything planned for the rest of the night? I'll assume the clubs here are not quite as up to date as back in the States. We should've gone over to Berlin, I know some very interesting corners there. Very up and coming.”

“I hadn't really thought that far.” Aziraphale finished his last bit of dessert, avoiding her eyes, piercing even behind the glasses. “I thought we could just retire back to the bookshop, I have a very nice bottle of Château d’Yquem I've been saving-“

„Of course you have.“ Crowley smiled, again, and Aziraphale made sure to commit that one to memory just as much as the past few days. “Well, let's get back to the shop then.”

The waiter gave them nothing but a bright smile and a polite goodbye as they left their tip – he was smart and well-trained enough not to eavesdrop, but it was hard to resist when Mr. Fell showed up with what could only be described as a luxurious show girl on his arm. He'd introduced her as Miss Crowley, and there was no ring on her finger, but something about the whole evening had made it more than clear that that was really the only thing missing. One was meant to assume a fiancée, anyway, if one didn't know about a wife.

Crowley'd fallen asleep on the sofa, again, after the bottle of Château d'Yquem had been emptied, and three others after it. Aziraphale had made sure not to jostle her awake as he brought her upstairs to bed (which, luckily, had been dusted only recently, considering it was mostly decorative) before retiring with a book – not in the backroom this time, but rather in the flat upstairs as well, which was usually mostly decorative itself. Something had pulled on him, asked him to stay, and he was used enough to temptation by now to know when it was safe to give in.

The demon was a sight to behold when she stomped into the sitting room the next morning – dress all akimbo from turning in her sleep, dark kohl lines mixing with red lipstick across her cheek, curls and curls of red hair almost obscuring her eyes. Gorgeous, Aziraphale thought, but was smart enough not to say out loud.

“Would you like some coffee?” He said instead.

“I'd kill for some coffee.”

Aziraphale got up as she sat down, putting down the newspaper to putter over to the small kitchen to start the coffee he'd prepared an hour ago. His tea had already been emptied, but he wasn't against making another cup to share with the demon currently spreading her arms across his table, almost falling back into sleep as the sun turned her hair into flames sprawled across the wooden surface. He could hear Crowley's yawning and grumbling all the way through the room. It was a nice change to his usual quiet. It was all a rather nice change.

No one was watching. Heaven and Hell were busy enough not to bother them with assigments right now, and far too busy to take notice of where they were, and what they were doing (or how little they were doing, wasting away the morning in comfortable silence ).

“Why'r'you wearin' that?” Crowley tugged on his coat as he brought the cups over.

“What? My coat?”

“The whole thing.” She waved (not with the hand that already held the coffee, luckily) all over him. “Didn't we buy a suit yesterday?”

“Oh. Well.” He brushed across his worn-out waistcoat that had become just as comfortable over the years as he had felt during the last few days. “I figured I'd save it for special occasions.”

“Special occasions.” Crowley, who'd dressed up every day for the past century, repeated. “Alright.” Why she had to come from Chicago to London just to give her opinion on a suit he wasn't even going to wear with her around, she wasn't quite sure. She might have an inkling, though.

London, 2020

“The Twenties. Again.” Crowley was staring into the night sky, even as rockets and explosions obscured the view of the stars. “Wonder if it'll be as fun as the last time around.”

“We'll just have to make it fun now, I suppose.” Aziraphale handed him the refilled champagne glass they'd just emptied at midnight (or maybe slightly after, factoring in the time spent on the traditional New Year's kiss).

“D'you remember when I saved your bum in Chicago in '25? That was fun.”

“I remember.” Aziraphale joined his side, leaning on the railing of the plant-filled balcony the bookshop had acquired in the past year.

“And then we went back to London and got drunker than we ever could in the US. That was the first time we went to the Ritz together, remember?”

Aziraphale remembered the Ritz, and the surprised waiter, and the Château D'Yquem. He remembered fringed dresses and perfect curls and red lipstick. He remembered the smell of perfume stuck to his bedsheets for weeks. He remembered Crowley's quiet snoring, his yawning and grumbling, his slow putter in the morning around the flat right behind them now that hadn't changed an inch since then, except to make space for some statues and a painting and a lot of plants.

He remembered simple pleasures, soft mornings. He'd remembered them a lot in the past decades, leading up to the new 20's.

“D'you remember the suit you bought? I bet those attendant had a field day, with me showing up in your dressing room.”

“I still have that suit.”

“Of course you do.” Crowley smiled, again, like he did often now, and just like Aziraphale remembered. “Kept it nice and clean for special occasions, hm?”

“Tip top shape.”

“Good.” Crowley's hand rested on Aziraphale's on the railing, trailed across the ring on his finger, next to the winged signet ring. “You'll need it in the new Twenties. For a special occasion.”

[delta-roseblr]

It Is Here People!!!!

Delix’s first time!

Thank the snow because it gave me the day off from work and I spent it editing.

Warning: This Fic contains smut (Duh). It also contains cursing and two insecure boys. It is also long as fuck (as Felix would say)

I hope you love it and that it was worth the wait!

Why am I fucking this up? Dean wondered as he gave Felix a tour of the house. He wanted it to go well, but Felix was clearly uncomfortable (which was probably his fault), and every time he said something it felt like a jab. Dean had known this was going to be awkward, and he thought he was prepared, but he wasn’t. Instead of just dealing or maybe trying to explain his nontraditional homelife, he just got defensive and kept sounding like an asshole. He was honestly surprised that they made it to his bedroom without Felix telling him to fuck off and straight up leaving.

If there was anywhere in his house that Dean felt most like himself it was his room, but as he pushed open the door, he felt like he was walking up to the gallows. Felix was a half a step behind him and walked into the room silently. He had been quiet since noticing the recycling bin full of liquor bottles which Dean still couldn’t believe he had fucking forgot to take care of.

Dean turned and just sort of watched as Felix looked around. He examined the books stacked on Dean’s desk, looked around at the few posters and pictures Dean had hanging on the walls and ran his fingers over Dean’s comforter. Dean watched all of it feeling completely nauseous because it drove home something he had never fully realized before: Felix was completely at odds with everything else in Dean’s life. Felix was the human personification of quality. He made Dean think of reading The Great Gatsby (which he hated) because there was all that talk of the old rich vs. the new rich. Felix was like the essence of the old rich: he wasn’t flashy or over the top, but everything about Felix had a quiet sort of luxury. Seeing Felix standing there with his perfect hair and his casual clothes that all came from stores Dean didn’t have enough money to even walk into, Dean wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it. It was like driving a Lexus through a Burger King drive-thru.

“So now you’ve seen everything…..,” Dean admitted as he pushed his hands into his pocket. Dean wanted to find the nearest Time Lord and hijack his TARDIS, so he could go back in time and stop this entire thing from ever happening.

Felix looked toward him curiously and that only made Dean feel worse. This was a horrible fucking idea, Dean thought as he looked away because it was all just too much. “I could take you home if you want,” he offered softly. He told himself not to come into this day with any expectations, and he didn’t, but he still felt disappointed as he spoke those words.

“Why would I want that?” Felix questioned, and he sounded panicked. Dean was sure he was just trying to cover his relief but then he looked up and saw Felix staring back at him wide-eyed. “I thought we were going to…..,” Felix stopped abruptly. Dean didn’t get it but suddenly he seemed unsure or insecure as he looked around the room with uncertainty. “Hang out.”

Dean got the distinct impression that “hang out” wasn’t what Felix had originally wanted to say. He couldn’t blame Felix for backtracking because now he could obviously see Dean came with a shit ton of baggage and shouldn’t be his first. Dean was disappointed sure, but he couldn’t blame Felix for that, and he wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it either. He looked down at his shoes because eye contact was just too fucking hard, “Yeah, I just-” was giving you an out, Dean thought but didn’t manage to get out.

“Dude,” Felix interrupted sharply catching Dean’s attention and forcing his eyes upward. Felix was staring back at him with fire in his eyes. “Did you really think I’d care that your poor or whatever?” Felix asked sounding absolutely offended. “Do you really think I’m that fucking shallow?”

Alright, now Dean was just confused on top of all the other emotions he was feeling. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t physically exploded from the overload of different emotions. He shook his head before starting to stumble through an apology or an explanation or something, “No, I just-”

“Dean,” Felix cut him off again with a raised hand and a dismissive shake of his head, “I come from the upper-middle-class suburbia that makes it to the cover of Home and Garden magazines, and I can fucking assure you that the problems may be different, but there are just as many, and they’re just as fucked up.” Dean found himself a little taken back because he hadn’t realized his insecurities were so obvious. Maybe it was just that Felix knew him that well, which was kind of sweet, but also left Dean feeling sort of worse about not just being honest about all of it sooner. “I could not give less of a fuck about where you’re from or what tax bracket your parents, or dad, or whatever is in,” Felix stated firmly. With that he paused, took a breath and something about him seemed to soften visibly before he continued, “What matters is that I can have a twenty-five minute argument with you about French fries which somehow turned into a contest to see who could shove the most fries in their mouth, and that you’ll play Halo with me and say Red vs. Blue quotes the entire time-”

“Well,” Dean interrupted softly because he had never been good at taking compliments, “I suck at Halo so going for the comedy relief seems like a good way to save face.”

“You don’t suck that bad, you just always want to use the energy sword,” Felix explained with a smile and a little laugh, “There are better weapons.”

Dean couldn’t have anticipated how much of a relief it would be to simply see Felix smile. He felt like he could really breathe since they had first walked into the door. It still wasn’t perfect, far from it actually, but it was better. If he could just keep Felix smiling and laughing Dean felt like he could deal with the whole thing. “Most of the Red vs. Blue quotes I know are Tucker lines so the sword kind of goes with the bit,” he explained a little teasingly. It worked because Felix laughed again, and Dean was reminded how amazing Felix’s laugh was.

“Dude, you are kind of proving my point here,” Felix stated, “You make me laugh and call me out when I’m being an asshole, but you never hold it against me.” He took a step forward closing some of the distance that seemed to exist between them. That helped too, and Dean could feel his blood pressure dropping to something more manageable by humans. “You have to be the smartest, fun, sincere person I have ever met,” Felix reached out and hooked a finger in Dean’s belt and pulled him in before he could react. Dean certainly couldn’t complain when Felix’s soft lips brushed against his own, and as an added benefit, he was sure the kissing helped mask his blushing.

It ended just as Dean felt himself giving into it. Felix pulled away and let out a content sounding hum. “Also, it doesn’t hurt that you're hot,” Felix added with a grin.

“Oh I see, the pot calling the kettle black,” Dean deflected with a good-natured laugh. He brought a hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck nervously as he asked, “So I guess your cool with hanging out here than?”

“Fuck yes,” Felix declared in that most perfectly Felix way that killed the rest of Dean’s stupid nerves in one cocky swoop. If Dean had to point to one moment to perfectly illustrate why he was so out of his mind for Felix it would probably be that moment.

And in typical Felix fashion, he took a sweet moment and turned it into something that turned Dean into knots for a whole new reason. Still smirking at Dean in that cocky way Felix did, he took a few steps backward, his eyes locked with Dean’s like a sexy challenge before hopping backward onto the bed. He bounced a little before his muscular form settled on the well-worn mattress, and he leaned back so he was propped up on his elbows.

Dean was sure that he had had fantasies about Felix that had started with him looking very much like he was at that moment except maybe a little less in the way of clothes. Felix grinned up at him which really just didn’t help Dean’s focus any as he added, “It sure as shit is better than going back to my place.”

Felix was actually in my bed, Dean marveled. He really was trying not to be a typical guy and let his mind immediately go to sex, but Felix was laying all sprawled out like the perfect picture of temptation, and it was a challenge. He swallowed hard (and hoped that Felix wouldn’t notice) before commenting, “Some privacy would be a nice change.”

Felix was on to him, Dean could tell from the wicked glint in his eyes. “It would be,” he agreed before making a definite show of patting the bed next to him, “If you’d get over here already.”

Despite relaxing substantially since Felix had walked through the door, Dean still felt a little anxious. Still, he couldn’t resist an invitation like that. He took a few cautious steps toward Felix and as soon as he was close enough Felix sat up, reached out, grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him in. The action was so surprising Dean stumbled and almost fell. He managed not to fall just barely, and before he could even attempt to regain his balance, he was on the bed.

Felix’s lips met his own and the familiarity of it brought with it a kind of ease. Whatever apprehension Dean may have still had, he gave into the moment and let the sensation of it all sweep him away.

It didn’t take long for all his anxiety to be forgotten as kissing turned into a real make-out session. Felix’s fingers were in his hair, and their legs became entangled in each other as they both tried to move closer. Dean let one hand settle on Felix’s thigh as he supported himself with the other. The warmth of Felix, his touch, his skin, his breath, all so utterly intoxicating, Dean was happy to lose himself in it.

Felix’s fingers lost their grip on Dean’s hair, fell down over his shoulders, and ran over his chest firmly before finding the hem of Dean’s shirt. As the fabric was pulled upward Dean remembered that his house wasn’t the only reason he had been nervous about the day. He didn’t stop Felix pulling his shirt off and tossing it quickly, but new anxiety stopped him from getting completely lost in Felix’s lips when they returned to his own.

The kiss was interrupted for only a few seconds before Felix was back, lips moving hungrily against Dean’s. As Felix’s hands moved over the bare skin of Dean’s chest, Dean met Felix’s hunger with his own.

Dean had marveled many times at the effect Felix had on him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced with anyone else. There wasn’t any real question around his own sexuality, and he knew he still liked girls as well, but being with Felix was just different. Dean didn’t know if it was something as simple as the solid feel of Felix because Felix was all muscle and firm touches or if it was his confidence. On the soccer field, Felix was an aggressive and confident player, and that was something that just seemed to follow Felix into anything physical. When they kissed there was no timidness. Felix always seemed to know what he wanted, and he went for it. Whatever it was, Dean often found himself so worked up from simply kissing Felix he almost ached.

It was the feel of Felix’s thick fingers gripping the waist of his jeans and working to undo the fastenings that had Dean pushing aside his base desires for the moment. He wanted it, Felix, the whole fucking nine with no limits. Dean had been fantasizing about having sex with Felix for months, and if he was being really honest, he had wanted that for a lot longer.

Just because he wanted it, didn’t mean they should. As much as Dean wanted to let it go, he still couldn’t let himself forget it was Felix’s first time. There was so much pressure that came with that, and it was such a privilege. Dean still wasn’t fully convinced he was worthy of it.

Dean couldn’t be that guy. The guy that just thought with his dick and didn’t care about anything else. He needed to know that Felix was sure before he let things go any further.

He caught Felix’s hands just as he felt the button of his jeans pop open and stopped him from doing anything more. It may not have been what Dean wanted to do, but it needed to be done, and it had at least caught Felix’s attention. He stopped and blinked up at Dean, and he didn’t say a word, but the question was written all over his face.

Dean’s tongue felt thick, and his mouth was dry, but he managed words despite that. “Do you still want to?” he questioned sincerely.

He felt like a ball of nerves and anxiety. He was sure it showed because he could barely look Felix in the eye. He wanted Felix so fucking bad. How could he not? Felix was smart and funny, not to mention incredibly sexy. Of course, he wanted to have sex with Felix, but he didn’t want Felix to feel like there was an obligation or an expectation. If it was going to happen it was going to be Felix’s first time (Ever- with anyone), and Dean didn’t want him to have any regrets.

He watched Felix’s eyes flick down to his hands still on Dean’s pants before flicking back up with confusion written across his perfect features, “Huh?”

“Um…ya know,” Dean managed to stammer out. Why he couldn’t just say the word sex, Dean didn’t understand, but he couldn’t. Felix staring back at him questioningly just made him more nervous, and he ended up looking down at his hands. It wasn’t helpful, seeing his hands on Felix’s amazing body, but he still managed to add, “With me, I mean?”

Felix remained silent for a long thoughtful moment that might as well have been an eternity for Dean before asking, “What? You mean sex?”

“Ah, yeah,” Dean answered as best he could manage. Felix asked the question so boldly while Dean struggled to say the word. Then there was the fact that he didn’t want Felix to feel pressured. “If you don’t that’s completely fine,” he added quickly. Dean was positive he was more anxious in that moment with Felix then he had been his first time.

Dean was already so anxious he thought it might literally kill him but the look that crossed Felix’s face made it ten thousand times worse. He got this look like he was thinking about it, and not in a good way. That should have been answer enough, but Dean still found himself surprised when Felix actually spoke. “Yeah, no,” Felix answered like he was saying no to three-day old cold pizza.

“Oh,” Dean exclaimed with surprise before he could stop himself. It was everything he could do not to physically pull away from Felix.

He was disappointed, but he guessed he shouldn’t have been surprised. Felix came from a completely different world from Dean. He had literally been given a brand-new car for his sixteenth birthday while Dean worked three jobs every summer so they could buy groceries.

Even if that wasn’t the case Dean had been such a fucking asshole since they had gotten in the car. Felix didn’t deserve that kind of bullshit, especially when he was obviously fucking trying.

Dean couldn’t help but be disappointed because as much as he had tried to control his expectations, he still wanted Felix in a very primal and animalistic way. That disappointment was his problem, and he didn’t want Felix to catch on. He had the right to say no and not feel guilty for it. It was his fucking virginity they were talking about for Christ sake.

If anything, Dean’s immediate response of disappointment filled him with shame, and it was that that had him ducking his head and looking at the little bit of bedding that laid between them. The dark green fabric was the best bedding in the house, and Dean had washed it twice before making the bed because he wanted everything to be perfect for Felix.

So much for that.

“Yeah,” he offered. It was meant to come across as a reassurance, but it sounded weak even to Dean, “Okay.”

“I mean,” Felix started, and his tone was odd. He didn’t sound apologetic or awkward, not that Dean wanted him to feel that way. He actually sounded kind of amused. It was like he was telling a joke, and Dean just wasn’t privy to the punchline. “We really can’t right now, considering.”

Dean was following Felix until the very last word and then he was lost. The confusion was enough to temporarily erase the other emotions that were clouding his mind. “Considering?” he asked.

It was the strangest thing when Felix broke out in what looked like a genuine smile. He had always had the most amazing smile. Dean found it almost hypnotic as Felix continued to talk playfully. “Considering that you’re drunk, or high, or suffering from a concussion or maybe all three,” Felix clearly joked, “Because that is the only possible explanation I can think of for why you would ask such a stupid fucking question.” Something must have read on Dean’s face, and whatever it was, it amused Felix greatly. He reached out and patted Dean’s cheek in a way that was equal parts affectionate and playful. “Dude, I’ve been trying to get you in bed for months. Of course I want to!” he exclaimed.

Dean didn’t realize he was holding his breath until that moment, and he finally felt like he could exhale. The sense of relief that washed over him was like nothing Dean had ever experienced. Felix wanted to be with him. He still wanted to be with him even though they came from completely different world, and Dean had been a complete fucking ass about it. And it was Felix so of course, he called him out on his bullshit in such a brash and confident way. It was the attitude that made people think Felix was an asshole and the honesty that Dean fucking loved. Joking about it all made it so much easier.

He reached out and gave Felix’s shoulder a light nudge. “God, you are such an ass,” he chuckled with no real heat in his words.

Felix leaned in and placed a long and thoughtful kiss on Dean’s cheek before tilting his head slightly to whispered in Dean’s ear. “And you’re a fucking tease,” he stated. How he managed to make those words drip with sex Dean had no idea, but he did.

Dean turned to defend himself, and Felix caught his lips. Just like that, they were kissing again, and it wasn’t like Felix had been reserved about it before, but there was something more to it then. There was a new level of intensity and need in it as Felix’s lips moved against his own, and he began to feel the teasing movements of Felix’s tongue. Maybe he was just trying to show Dean he was into it, which if that was the case, he was wildly successful. Or maybe he was that fucking horny which if that was the case that was the hottest thing Dean could have experienced.

Dean kissed back because how could he not. With the fear that Felix was only going along with it out of obligation put to rest, Dean gave into it without reservation. He kissed Felix back with all the desire that had been building in him for months, meeting Felix’s tongue with his own.

Dean brought a hand to Felix’s back and started teasing at the hem of his t-shirt. For someone who was always complaining about being cold, Felix’s skin was so fucking warm and inviting. Dean was pretty sure he never wanted to stop touching Felix’s warm, soft skin.

When Dean felt Felix’s hands to returned to his pants and started working his zipper down, he remembered where this was be leading. Just because he and Felix hadn’t been having full-on sex didn’t mean they hadn’t fooled around plenty. Dean had seen Felix naked (which was fucking awesome), he knew what it felt like to have Felix’s hands or lips on his dick, and he knew what it was like to touch or taste Felix. Still, there was a likelihood that that day was going to be a hell of a lot more. They could have fumbled through it, but that felt like a risk. It probably didn’t help that he could hear Nico’s words ringing in his head.

As much as he didn’t want to, Dean pulled away from Felix’s lips. “Felix we should-” he started but struggled to continue. Felix was not deterred in the slightest, so when Dean had pulled away from his lips, Felix had just moved to kiss at his neck. He knew what he was doing too which was really distracting in the most amazing way. “Oh…,” he shuttered as Felix found an especially sensitive spot just below his ear, and he felt Felix’s teeth graze that spot softly. He took a shuttered breath and reminded himself to focus before he managed to continue, “-Probably talk first.”

“Dean,” Felix spoke against his skin, “Of all the things I want to do right now talking isn’t one of them.”

Felix was back to kissing at his throat, and Dean could feel him working his hand into his pants. If Felix could actually touch him like Dean really fucking wanted him to, Dean knew his resolve would crumble.

He pulled away from Felix’s touch and shimmied up the bed a little to escape Felix’s advances. Felix caught on quickly and looked fucking annoyed which was strangely sexy. Dean pushed his fingers through his hair, closed his eyes for a few seconds to center himself before speaking or at least trying to, “So how are we….I mean, how do you want to do this?”

Was that even English, Dean groaned inwardly. Dean had never been shy about sex, and he didn’t get why he was suddenly having such a hard fucking time talking about it. Maybe it was the pressure. He wanted things to live up to Felix’s expectations which would be a challenge if he didn’t know what Felix was expecting. It would have been better if he was just direct about it, but his stomach was turning itself in knots at the possibilities, and he probably should have been grateful he managed words at all.

It was the wrong thing to ask, that quickly became clear. Felix went from looking like he wanted to pounce on Dean to looking like he wanted to shrink away and maybe hide under the bed. His once lust-filled eyes became downcast, taking a bashful sort of interest in his hands resting on the bed. Felix was quiet too long, and Dean couldn’t miss how he chewed nervously at his bottom lip. It was a nervous habit Dean knew Felix had, but it was something he rarely actually saw when they were together.

Maybe this whole thing isn’t a good idea, Dean thought, maybe Felix really isn’t really ready yet. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Dean immediately started trying to reign in his own expectations once again. He had waited this long, he could wait longer. He had no doubt Felix was worth it.

“How do you mean?” Felix finally questioned in such a soft un-Felix-like voice it was almost jarring.

Dean sucked in a long breath in hopes it would help him settle his own nerves. It didn’t, but he forced himself to answer anyway. “I mean, do you want to or-,” Dean was already stammering and then Felix looked up and there was something about the way he was staring at Dean that made it so much more difficult. He pushed his fingers through his hair and grumbled the first thing that came to mind, “God, Nico was right about this being awkward to talk about.”

He had said it under his breath or at least he thought he had. He could remember how he had thought Nico was exaggerating or that that particular experience wouldn’t be anything like that for him and Felix. It was just sex after all. What was so hard to talk about? Maybe that was part of the problem, Dean was starting to realize this wasn’t just sex. It was never going to be just sex with Felix.

Felix must have heard the thoughtless comment or at least enough of it to have questions. “What?” he asked sounding a little alarmed.

“Nothing, not important,” Dean quickly dismissed. Felix had been pretty fucking clear he didn’t want anyone knowing about him being a virgin, so there was no way he would have been cool with Dean calling Nico for advice. He hadn’t been trying to betray Felix’s confidence, and it wasn’t like he had been asking for a how-to guide for gay sex, it had just been the pressure of the whole thing that Felix’s virginity added. Nico had really been helpful, but he doubted Felix would care about that. All that he would hear was that Dean had talked about it with someone after he had specifically asked him not to. Dean had screwed things up enough for one day.

“I’ll-,” Dean started and was surprised when his own anxiety caused him to stumble. He took one long, controlled breath before trying again. “I’ll catch if you want,” he stated. He had hoped once the offer was out there, he would feel a sense of relief, but he didn’t. His anxiety tripled as he heard those words spoken in his own voice.

If the goal had been to decrease Felix’s apprehension with that offer, Dean seemed to have failed there as well. Felix was gnawing at his lower lip to the point that Dean was afraid he was going to start bleeding, and he wasn’t even trying to hide how he was avoiding actually looking Dean in the eyes.

“Is that what you want?” Felix asked with a note of uncertainty in his voice that Dean didn’t quite understand.

That wasn’t a question Dean had been expecting, and it took him a moment to process it completely. If he was being honest, it wasn’t. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t want to, but….well, it felt like a huge leap, and that intimidated him more than a little. He had never experienced anything like that before, and he had no idea how to even approach that. Add in the fact that it involved giving up control which Dean wasn’t great at normally with anything. It was more than just being intimidated by it because in some ways it really fucking scared him. He could deal with that because he trusted Felix.

It wasn’t like he could imagine Felix wasn’t nervous. He was probably imagining his first time being a certain way. Dean was willing to deal with his own anxiety to give Felix the first time he had been picturing. “I-,” Dean started to answer. All he had to do was say yes, but he didn’t feel like that was completely honest. “I’m offering,” he answered and immediately regretted it. He heard his own words and could hear how reluctant and uncertain he sounded, which wasn’t what he wanted or what he met.

“No shit,” Felix huffed disgruntledly. He looked up at Dean with clear annoyance in his eyes which just had Dean marveling at just how many ways he was fucking this up. At this point, he figured it would have just been quicker to buy Felix a chaste belt for how smooth he was being. “But that isn’t what I asked,” Felix pointed out sharply.

“I’m willing,” Dean answered before he thought about how that sounded. He really was making this so much more difficult then it needed to be which was beyond frustrating.

Ironically, Dean was pretty sure this was the first time he actually found it difficult to just say what he wanted to Felix. He forced himself to take a second and just breathe before he tried to explain. “It’s your first time,” Dean reminded, and Felix made no attempt to hide how he rolled his eyes. Dean was beyond caring about that because even if Felix didn’t think it was a big deal, it was. “I want it to be like you imagined it would be,” he shrugged. Why were they only having this conversation now, he wondered with regret. “Ya know?” he asked. Even if Felix wanted to act like losing his virginity wasn’t a big deal, he had to understand at least that.

Felix’s silence was physically painful, and the longer it lasted the more it hurt. It took everything Dean had to make himself look up in hopes of finding some kind of reassure in Felix’s hazel eyes, but his eyes were downcast.

Dean wanted to say something, but he couldn’t find the words, so the silence stretched until Felix spoke. “And what if that isn’t how I imagined it?” he questioned so softly Dean only barely made out the words.

Dean was good with language in general. He had started reading chapter books in kindergarten and had always had a deep love of language, so his comprehension was good. Still, even after he gave Felix’s words a few seconds to sink in they didn’t quite make sense. Felix couldn’t have actually met what it sounded like. He tried to think of an alternate explanation, but that just sent his brain going in circles. He had to give up trying before it drove him insane.

“What?” he questioned dumbly.

Felix let out a long-pained sigh before he starting to pick at the comforter thoughtlessly even though there was nothing there. “Whenever I’ve thought about us finally having sex, I never pictured it like that,” Felix admitted sheepishly. His eyes never lifted from the mattress as he spoke, and Dean could feel the nerves rolling off him in waves.

There it was again. Felix had said words, but Dean struggled to understand it. It took a painfully long time for things to click into place. “Oh,” he exclaimed with surprise. He wasn’t sure if he had heard Felix right or that Felix meant what Dean thought he meant. He couldn’t take the risk of making an assumption and being wrong. “So you want to….,” Dean tried to get the words out, but it was still a struggle. He gestured between himself and Felix in hopes of providing some clarity but immediately knew he had failed. “I mean you want me to…..?” Dean left the rest of the question unsaid. He was too nervous about saying the wrong thing and fucking things up even more than he already had.

Felix finally looked up and met Dean’s gaze with fire in his eyes. “I want you to fuck me, okay?” he declared with force. Dean was pretty sure hearing those words carried all the force of being slapped in the face, he was so surprised.

Felix huffed and rolled his eyes. Dean watched his body language shift from something sheepish and uncertain to that of a man going to war. He didn’t look away from Dean as he continued, “There, I said it!” Felix declared, “So are we fucking good already?”

Dean’s heart was pounding with such force, he felt partially deafened by the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. There was no questioning what Felix had meant because he was pretty fucking clear about it, and the way he was staring back at Dean, it was almost like a challenge. Dean’s lizard brain hopped up on all those horny teenage hormones wanted to throw words to the wayside and just pin Felix to the bed. The thought that Felix had actually pictured them together, and Dean….god, that was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard. He didn’t act on his base desires despite how badly he wanted to. “Are you sure?” he questioned, and he was proud with how he managed to keep most of his eagerness out of his voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean!” Felix exclaimed, “Yes, I am fucking sure!”

Anytime Dean had imagined him and Felix having sex he wanted to picture himself taking the lead and topping. He wanted to be the one to give Felix so much pleasure and the thought of Felix under him was definitely a turn on. Hearing there was a chance that Felix wanted that too was just mind-blowing. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and pressing a kiss on Felix’s lips.

It was a soft kiss, or at least it started out like that, but it quickly escalated. Dean wasn’t even sure who was to blame for that, but if history taught him anything it was that it was probably both of their faults. However it happened and whoever was responsible for it, Felix ended up joining him toward the head of the bed, Dean’s hands pushed up the back of his shirt enjoying the feel of Felix’s taut muscles move under his touch as they kissed with an increased need. It was like they were under some kind of spell, and they could only survive with each other’s touch.

That spell didn’t break when Felix pulled away. The distance between them lasted no more than a few seconds as Felix roughly tugged off his own t-shirt and tossed it aside. Dean got less than a second to enjoy the sight of Felix’s well-muscled torso before Felix’s lips were once again moving against his own. Dean kissed back with everything he had, happy that any sign the anxiety and clumsiness from before was gone as his hands explored the newly exposed skin of Felix’s back and stomach.

Felix sighed against his lips as they laid back on the bed, which was a sentiment Dean could easily second. Their legs entangled as Dean moved to support himself with one elbow, so he was looming over Felix without actually being on top of him.

Their lips pulled apart, and Dean didn’t rush to recapture Felix’s lips with his own. Instead, he let his eyes flutter open to look down and enjoy the view of Felix under him. There was something especially appealing in seeing Felix’s lips swollen from their kisses, the pupils of his amazing eyes blown wide with arousal, and his cheeks slightly flushed.

He let his free hand come to rest lightly on Felix’s bare chest. “We’ll go slow,” Dean promised softly and with a great amount of reverence for what Felix was offering him. He looked up to meet Felix’s gaze and found him looking back at him with interest. “And if you change your mind that’s okay,” he assured. “We can wait or I can-”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean,” Felix groaned interrupting him before he could finish. Unlike before when Felix had been obviously uncomfortable and trying to hide it by being aggressive and annoyed, Felix just seemed amused which was a relief in and of itself. “Do you always try to talk people out of sleeping with you?”

“No,” Dean answered with a shake of his head. He definitely wasn’t trying to talk Felix out of having sex, but he didn’t want him to feel pressured either. “But I don’t want you to think that I expect you to-”

“I don’t,” Felix interrupted quickly. Before Dean could remember what he was even trying to say, Felix pushed up on his elbows enough to press a hot kiss on his lips. It was quick and left Dean breathless when Felix pulled away smirking. “But can you really tell me you haven’t imagined it?”

“Um…..,”  Dean hummed nervously. He felt somewhat dumb from the blood rushing to everywhere except his brain, and he wasn’t sure if that was something he should admit to it. Of course, he had imagined fucking Felix, probably more then he should have since they started dating, but if he admitted that what would Felix think about his expectations. “I mean….,” he started to stammer not sure what he actually planned to say.

“That’s what I thought,” Felix said with confidence, and it was more than obvious he thought of it as a victory. He actually looked fucking proud which was such a weird turn on. Felix liked the idea of Dean thinking about having sex with him, Dean was surprisingly excited by that thought. It read on his face too, Dean could tell because the self-satisfied grin that Felix was wearing just grew wider.

Felix sat up a little straighter, reached out a hand, and ran it gently along Dean’s jaw before letting it settle on the back of his neck. He pulled Dean into another kiss and while it was still hungry there was something different about it when compared to the kiss they had shared only seconds earlier. There was a new sense of patience in Felix’s touch or maybe it was determination, Dean wasn’t completely sure, but whatever it was he was into it. When Felix pulled away, he stared into Dean’s eyes with a serious look and ordered, “Do yourself a favor and shut the fuck up.”

“God, you are such a fucking smartass,” Dean shot back with a grin before taking Felix’s advice. He shut up and put his mouth too much better use. He moved forward and kissed Felix’s perfect lips.

He felt Felix chuckle a little against his lips at first, but it quickly subsided as he kissed Dean back. Felix’s fingers went from gently caressing the back of Dean’s neck to tugging lightly at his hair as they laid back on the bed. Felix was on his back with Dean lying next to him on his side, but with the whole awkward conversation out of the way that didn’t stay that way for long. Dean didn’t feel the need to hold back now that Felix had literally said he wanted Dean to fuck him. Within seconds Dean moved so he was on top of Felix, straddling his thighs as they kissed.

Dean’s hands ran over Felix’s stomach, chest, and sides, appreciating the feel of hard muscle and bare skin. Felix had an insane body that if Dean was one-hundred percent straight he probably would have envied. Dean wasn’t one-hundred percent straight and as he touched Felix all he could think was how fucking lucky he was because Felix was his, and he was finally going to have him.

While Felix seemed to enjoy every touch Dean had to offer, he didn’t seem to have the patience for foreplay that he often did. He nipped at Dean’s bottom lip as his greedy hands started trying to push Dean’s jeans down his hips. His efforts felt clumsy and uncoordinated, but Felix made it work. He had Dean butt ass naked in an impressively short period of time with very little help from Dean.

Dean had barely managed to kick his clothes to the floor when he felt Felix’s palm rub along his newly exposed and painfully hard dick. Felix wasn’t being bashful about it either so Dean didn’t even get a chance to moan in utter delight before Felix’s fingers wrapped around his base, and he started stroking Dean in earnest.

Hand-jobs could be nice, but Dean had never thought they were something to write home about, or at least he hadn’t until the first time Felix had jerked him off. Felix knew what he was doing when handling a dick, that was just a fundamental truth. Felix’s stroking had lightening dancing behind Dean’s eyes and through his veins.

“Fuck,” Dean moaned as he gave in to the pleasure and pulled away from Felix’s lips, “Felix.”

“God, dude you’re so fucking easy,” Felix gloated playfully. He seemed completely unbothered by the loss of Dean’s lips as he started to kiss and lick at Dean’s jaw and throat hungrily. He was still stroking Dean’s cock which was the most distractingly wonderful thing Dean could possibly imagine. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re the virgin here,” he teased before moving to suck playfully at Dean’s earlobe.

“Or-” Dean went to defend himself. Felix knew him too well and as much as he liked to say Dean was the tease in the relationship, Felix could be a tease as well. Just as Dean started to talk Felix twisted his wrist as his fingers enclosed around the head of his dick and swiped over his sensitive head. “Oh,” he sighed as the jolt of pleasure had his thighs quivering. “-you’re just that good,” he offered. He recognized he would have sounded more convincing if he didn’t sound like he was a half a second from blowing his load, but he had no control over that.

Felix stopped kissing and sucking at his ear (but he didn’t stop stroking) and laid back on the bed so he was gazing up at Dean. Felix was fucking gorgeous laid out under Dean like he was. The wicked grin he was wearing only seemed to add to that. “Is that so?” Felix questioned teasingly.

“Yeah,” Dean replied. He gave Felix a once over as he figured out exactly what he wanted to do. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out. He leaned down and kissed Felix hard on the lips before starting to move down Felix’s body. As Felix’s fingers released their grip on him, Dean looked up with a smirk of his own. “Let me show you how good I can be,” he offered playfully.

“Dean, I know how good you are,” Felix replied. Dean couldn’t be positive, but he thought he heard a tremble of excitement in Felix’s voice. The hint of such a thing was enough to add to Dean’s confidence as he moved from kissing down Felix’s throat to moving down his well-sculpted chest.

He kissed, licked, and sucked at all the places he knew could make Felix quiver until he reached the waist of Felix’s track pants. He sat up as he hooked his fingers through the waistband of his pants and briefs. “Maybe,” he countered as he started to tug off the last of Felix’s clothes, “But I like to show you.”

Felix shifted and moved in all the right ways so Dean could undress him with ease. Dean couldn’t take his eyes away from Felix laying there naked as he tossed aside the last articles of clothing that had stood between him and his prize aside. Felix was quite the prize too. He lay back on cheap sheets with his adios like body, thick muscular thighs, and thick hard dick rising heavy out of a nest of dark curls. Even the tiny scar that was just below Felix’s belly button from when he had his appendix removed was utter perfection.

Felix shouldn’t own clothes, Dean thought, and it wasn’t the first time. It seemed like a crime that something so utterly stunning could be hidden away for most of the time. But, at the same time, Dean felt incredibly honored that what was laid before him was for him and just him.

Dean took a moment to run his finger along the deep V that pointed toward Felix’s groin and all the treasures that lay there. Felix let out a sigh that was probably the most beautiful sound Dean had ever heard and pressed his hips up subtly into Dean’s touch. “Oh dear fucking god, Dean,” Felix declared with what sounded like a mix of annoyance and desperation.

“And you say I’m easy,” he pointed out playfully as he grinned down at Felix.

Dean didn’t wait for Felix to reply before bending down and running his tongue along Felix’s cock starting at the base and running all the way up to the tip. He was already about as turned on as Dean could get but somehow the salty taste of Felix on his tongue managed to push him a little further.

“Fuck!” Felix gasped and squirmed under Dean’s touch, “Dean.”

Dean got his hands involved, wrapping one around the base of Felix’s cock while using the other to explore Felix’s body greedily before working down to play with his balls. He wet his tongue as he ran it over Felix’s erection from every side before wrapping his lips around the hard shaft.

Dean could never have anticipated that he would ever blow another guy let alone that he would enjoy doing it but there he was, and he really did enjoy it. He bobbed his head up and down on Felix’s dick and even managed not to gag when Felix’s cock would hit the back of his throat. There was something strangely empowering and sexy about the act itself, but the noises Felix was making really put it over the top.

As Dean worked up and down Felix’s length, Felix sighed and gasped with what sounded like increasing desperation. Dean heard the rustle of the sheets as Felix grasped at them and squirmed under his attention. He got lost in all of it, the noises Felix was making, the feeling of him squirming under his touch, the awareness of Felix’s thighs beginning to quiver from the sensation, all of it.

“Fuck, Dean!” Felix moaned as he squirmed under Dean more noticeably. “I thought we were going to do this,” he whined.

Moaning was good but whining was bad. Dean popped off Felix’s cock and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked up at Felix. “We are,” he replied with a grin. He moved up Felix’s body, pausing occasionally to place a kiss here or there. After taking a moment to enjoy how good Felix looked laying under him with his pupils wide with lust and kiss-swollen lips, he commented, “I didn’t realize we were in a rush.”

“I’ve waited months,” Felix pointed out with more annoyance then Dean would have liked considering what he had been doing to Felix only seconds before.

It wasn’t like Dean wasn’t aware that they had been waiting for months. He was aware, painfully so. That was why Dean didn’t want to rush. Well, it was one of the reasons. After so much tension and build-up, Dean knew it could have been easy to let their hunger and desire take the lead and bang one out like the fumbling horny teenagers they sort of were. Maybe if it wasn’t Felix’s first time Dean would have been okay with that because they had plenty of time to figure out what each other liked and wanted later. Dean didn’t want Felix’s first time to be clumsy and rushed.  

Under him, Felix shifted and looked off to the side, so he was no longer meeting Dean’s gaze defiantly. “Can’t we just get fucking on with it already?” he grumbled.

Oh, Dean thought as he thought he figured out what was going on. Felix was actually nervous about this whole thing and just didn’t want to admit. That was very like Felix so he really couldn’t be surprised. He was a little disappointed that he hadn’t seen it all along, but maybe he hadn’t wanted to.

Felix had also been pretty insistent from day one that he wanted to have sex, and he wasn’t at all attached to his virginity, but obviously, that was at least partially bravado. Dean didn’t know if Felix was just nervous about them having sex or if it was more about catching. Felix had volunteered, but maybe he wasn’t as certain as he had sounded. Dean wanted to do this, but if Felix was that nervous maybe they should wait a little while longer. They could talk things out more and figure out what each of them wanted it to be like without any pressure.

He needed to offer Felix an out that wouldn’t hurt his pride or leave him feeling rejected. Dean bit back his want as he began, “Are you-”

“Holy hell, Dean!” Felix interrupted as he turned his head back to look up at Dean. His striking eyes were filled with fire and some other emotion Dean couldn’t quite name. “If you ask if I’m sure again I swear to fucking god I will smack you,” he declared in a way that left Dean with no doubt that he would actually do it.

“Right,” Dean nodded.

He realized the other emotion he was seeing in Felix’s eyes, it was determination. Felix wasn’t going to admit that he was nervous. He had spent too much time telling Dean that he didn’t care that it would be his first time. Dean had made too big of a deal about the whole thing too. Just because Felix was nervous didn’t mean he still didn’t want to or wasn’t ready. Dean leaned down and pulled Felix into a kiss which was just as much to reassure himself as it was for Felix.

Felix sighed into the kiss which was one of the most amazing things. Dean pulled away reluctantly and shifted so he could stretch across the bed to his nightstand. He pulled out the box of condoms and lube from the topmost drawers. The condoms weren’t a new addition, Dean usually had some of those laying around just in case, but the lube he purchased on the off chance he and Felix ended up having sex. He left the condoms on the nightstand but brought the lube with him back to the bed.

He kissed along Felix’s jaw to his ear and nipped at his earlobe playfully before pulling back. There was one thing he had to say before he could think about moving forward. He looked down at Felix seriously as he spoke. “Any point you change your mind just say the word,” he assured genuinely.

“Yeah, sure,” Felix dismissed almost as if he hadn’t really heard him. Dean didn’t miss how his eyes flicked toward the nightstand for a second, and he would have sworn he saw the determination in Felix’s eyes increase tenfold. “But I’m not going to change my mind,” he stated with certainty.

Felix meant that, Dean could tell. The more Dean knew about Felix the more amazing he realized Felix was. He was definitely braver and bolder then Dean thought he could ever be. Felix might have been nervous, but he spoke with more certainty then Dean would have had considering.

That just added to the long list of reasons Dean was determined to make Felix’s first time perfect. It was more than that though because Dean wanted…no needed to make sure Felix felt how honored he was for being given the opportunity to make his first time perfect.

Once again Dean kissed down Felix’s body. He lavished every perfect inch of Felix on his way with his lips and his tongue and enjoyed all the little ways Felix responded to his touch. He moved down past Felix’s naval to kiss along the hinge between Felix’s thigh and groin. He was far from a first-time visitor there, but as he kissed, he let his hands settle behind Felix’s knees and gently urged them upward, which made it all feel very new.

Felix didn’t resist or even response with hesitation. At the lightest of suggestive touches from Dean, and Felix’s knees bent, and his legs fell open a little more as Dean heard him take a long smooth breath. Dean kissed at Felix’s fuzzy inner thigh with admiration as he fumbled amongst the bedding to find the bottle of lube he had so carelessly dropped somewhere on the bed.

It felt like it took an eternity to find the stupid bottle. It was a genuine challenge to not get too in his head about it because he couldn’t’ help but think he was already fucking things up. He probably could have been quicker about it if he stopped kissing at Felix’s leg and actually paid attention to what he was doing, but that just wasn’t going to happen either.

In reality, it probably took less than a minute to find the bottle. He popped the cap with one hand as he gave Felix’s thigh one last kiss. He could have touched and kissed at Felix forever, but he was pretty sure if he covered half the bed in lube that would kill the mood.

He pulled away just enough to watch as he poured some lube onto his fingers. Dean had no idea what he was doing when it came to that. It wasn’t like he had ever really had a need to use lube before, and even if he had, he had only been with girls. He doubted there was a whole lot of knowledge that could be carried over from that. Nico had been helpful in explaining that there was actually different lube for anal because Dean hadn’t known that, but he had never mentioned how much to use. He didn’t want to be a lubed up mess so he poured enough to coat two fingers to the first knuckle before carefully setting the lube aside where it could be easily found if he needed more.

Part of Dean wanted to look up and maybe see Felix’s hazel eyes filled with lust staring back at him, but didn’t dare in fear that Felix would see just how nervous he was. Instead, he kept his focus on the task at hand because it was definitely something new for both of them. He ghosted his hand first over Felix’s hard dick then over his tight balls before moving further until his slicked fingers were sliding along Felix’s taint.

The audible sound of Felix’s breath catching in what sounded like a breathy gasp reverberated off the walls as Dean’s fingers found the tight puckered skin of his hole. Dean hoped that was a good sound and not just a sign that he should have warmed up the lube a little.

Dean once again went to kiss hungrily at Felix’s inner thigh as he massaged at that wrinkled flesh. It was probably in his head, but Dean thought he could hear Felix’s breath grow more shallow. Normally that was a good sign, but Felix felt tenser to his touch then Dean was used to.

That was just unacceptable. Dean realized he needed to do something to distract Felix from his nerves. With his free hand, Dean reached up and grasped Felix’s erection and started stroking him lazily.

Dean paid attention to everything, to Felix’s breathing and the little noises he made, and let it all guide him to the right method. Within a matter of minutes, he could feel Felix relax to the point he seemed to be moving into Dean’s touch rather than tensing at them. That was more like what Dean wanted and more of what he was used to when he was fooling around with Felix.

Cautiously, he pushed the tip of one finger against Felix’s furrowed hole until he was able to press forward a little without too much resistance. He twisted his finger a little this way and that before pulling back out. There was a second where Felix might have tensed slightly at the little penetration, but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. Felix gave no other signs of discomfort, so Dean did it again pressing his finger in a little deeper and twisting a little more.

Dean continued to stroke Felix with his other hand. It seemed to work in keeping Felix generally relaxed, but Dean had jerked Felix off plenty of times, and he was normally more vocal then he was being at that moment. Dean was used to hearing a string of curse words moaned out in the most beautiful sexy voice, so he didn’t know what to think about the fact that Felix wasn’t.

As he continued to work his finger in a little deeper with each motion, Dean’s nervousness won out over his general fear of not coming across confidence. He dared to look up at Felix and wasn’t exactly happy with what he saw. Felix was staring up at the cracked ceiling of Dean’s bedroom with a look of extreme focus on his face.

Dean considered stopping, but Felix was still hard, and while he didn’t seem like he was over the top enjoying it, he wasn’t showing signs of discomfort. No feedback was so much worse than bad feedback, Dean just couldn’t take it. “Is this alright?” He finally questioned nervously as his hands continued to work.

“Yeah,” Felix answered in the most unconvincing way Dean had ever heard, “Its fine.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Dean practically panicked because he was used to Felix being so straight forward about everything that some people called him blunt or rude. Dean didn’t want sugar coating if Felix was uncomfortable or just wasn’t into it. He couldn’t fix shit if Felix wasn’t talking to him.

Panicking wasn’t sexy so Dean shoved it down and acted like everything was cool. He didn’t stop the motion of either of his hands although he may have increased the determination in his stroking and eased back on his efforts to open up Felix’s tight hole. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” he asked. God, he would hope Felix would tell him if something he was doing was causing him pain, but Felix felt so tight. His rim was snug around Dean’s finger with every little movement, and now Dean was sure he was going to need more lube. That had to feel like something.

“No,” Felix replied flatly.

Dean pressed his finger a little deeper into Felix’s tight heat and watched Felix’s response which was completely uninterpretable. It was beyond frustrating, and definitely panic-inducing.

So much for making Felix’s first time perfect, he thought with disappointment.

“Does it feel good?” he asked even though Felix was making it pretty clear it didn’t. He just needed Felix to say something and give him some direction.

“Honestly,” Felix huffed. It wasn’t a slight quiver or a breathy sigh that could have meant he was actually into it. It was a sound of annoyance and impatience that left little question about just how little he was enjoying what Dean was doing. “It feels like there is a finger up my ass,” he admitted flatly.

“Right,” Dean replied with understanding. It was a blunt answer, but at least it was an actual answer. Dean could deal with the feedback even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted it to feel good for Felix more. He would just have to try to change his technique until he found something that got more of the response he wanted.

He pulled out his one finger completely and release the grip he had on Felix’s dick with his other hand. That action might have been the first thing Dean had done that got an actually response from Felix.

“That didn’t mean I wanted you to stop!” Felix shouted as he sat up enough on his elbows to look down the bed at Dean in clear outrage.

Another time, a different situation, and Dean might have made a joke about sending mixed messages but didn’t because he knew better. “I’m not,” he assured instead as he grabbed the bottle of lube and held it up as proof.

Pour some more lube on a couple of fingers, it shouldn’t have been a particularly difficult or time-consuming task, but Dean’s hands were actually shaking for some unknown reason. It didn’t help that Dean couldn’t really completely take his eyes off Felix laying out on the bed with his perfect body and not a stitch of clothes on, or how he could feel Felix watching him with an intensity Dean rarely saw from him. He managed eventually, but it wasn’t nearly as quick or clean as his first go. “You think you’re ready for another,” he asked as he started to slide his hand back down between Felix’s legs.

“Yeah,” Felix answered sounding none too thrilled at the prospect. Even as Dean kissed affectionately at Felix’s inner thigh, he saw how Felix’s eyes flicked down to where Dean’s own erection sat between his legs before looking back up. “You know you could move things along a bit faster, ya know.”

Felix’s meaning was clear enough, and that was just not a real option, not yet at least. Felix felt insanely, impossibly tight on just one of Dean’s finger. There was no way he could just push his dick in and that end well. “Not fucking happening dude,” Dean stated firmly enough to get across his point. He ran his fingers along Felix’s crease again until he found his destination. He started swirling the tips of his two lubed up fingers around Felix’s rim before pressing both tips in ever so slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted a little more quietly.

Dean heard Felix issue a long shaking breath as he fell back on the bed. “Just hurry the fuck up,” he demanded, but not with the heat that would suggest he really meant it. Dean didn’t know if that was nerves or maybe something a bit closer to pleasure. Dean didn’t let himself focus too much on that because if Felix wasn’t completely enjoying it right then he was going to get him there.

Dean might not have said it, but there was no way he was going to rush things. He picked up the pace a little while still carefully attending to all of Felix’s little tells. With each motion forward Dean pushed his fingers in a little deeper before pulling back. He didn’t know if it was the addition of more lube or if Felix was actually just relaxing a little and adjusting to the penetration, but either way each motion forward felt like it was met with less resistance.

Less resistance didn’t mean that Felix still didn’t feel crazy tight. He continued to piston his fingers in and out, occasionally twisting or stretching his two fingers apart. Felix was still being quieter then Dean would have liked, but every once and a while he would let out a shaky breath or small sound that made it sound like he might almost be close to enjoying it.

While the experience wasn’t completely foreign it was definitely different and incredibly hot. It was probably weird that just fingering Felix was really turning Dean on even more than he already was. He was quickly realizing this was something they should have done already even if they weren’t ready to have full-on sex.

“Dean!” Felix growled in clear frustration and snapped Dean out of his own thoughts of all the things he and Felix should have been doing over the last few months.

“Patience,” Dean replied quickly. Any confidence in his voice was completely fake but he wasn’t going to tell Felix that.

He still didn’t want to push too far too fast, but he could take a hint. Felix wanted more of something, and he could at least try to deliver that. The next time he pressed his fingers inward and were in as deep as he had managed, Dean curled his fingers slightly to run along Felix’s inner wall gently as he slowly pulled his fingers back.

Dean was pretty sure he could pinpoint the exact moment he had done something really right because Felix pulsed around his fingers. More than that, Felix moaned something that sounded like it might have been a failed attempt to curse, but Dean couldn’t be sure. When he dared to glance up, he couldn’t have been happier or more turned on by what he saw. Felix was biting his lip like he was trying to stop himself from making any more noise, and he was gripping at the sheets.

Another layer of stress Dean hadn’t even realized he had been feeling fell away at such a perfect sight. He placed a kiss on Felix’s inner thigh before grinning up at his perfect boyfriend. “Was that okay?” he questioned. Sure, it was more than obvious it was, but Dean could use a little reassurance.

“Yes!” Felix cried out his reply. Dean could tell that Felix was trying to sound annoyed, but it still came out more like a moan. Dean was happy to take responsibly for that because as Felix had been going to talk Dean did that same thing with his fingers. He didn’t get the same intensity of a reaction that he had the first time so he figured he hadn’t hit just the right spot, but Felix’s knees still quivered, and his rim still momentarily tightened around Dean’s digits so he couldn’t have been too far off. “Dean….fuck…just…,” Felix stammered out without managing to get out a single coherent thought.

Felix didn’t have to say it out loud, Dean was pretty sure he knew what he wanted. Dean certainly thought he knew at least, and now that he had found something that seemed to be actually working for Felix, he certainly wasn’t going to stop.

It took him a few more tries before he could consistently hit that spot, but once he figured it out it was smooth sailing. It was so much hotter when Felix was moaning, cursing, and squirming with what seemed like his every motion.

It didn’t seem to take long before Dean was able to work his two fingers all the way into Felix with relative ease, and Felix felt…well, not really looser, but definitely more relaxed and malleable to the motions of Dean’s fingers. It was all so hot, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to stop, but still he pulled his fingers back slowly. He didn’t miss the disgruntled little noise Felix let out either.

He looked up at Felix and tried to ignore all the ways Felix looked incredible hot, and there were a lot of them, so it really was a challenge. “Should I add another or do you think you can-?”

“Fuck Dean,” Felix groaned as he interrupted. His voice was so husky and lust-filled, if Dean wasn’t already shaking from want he would have been from the sound of Felix. Before Dean could ask for clarification, Felix snatched the box of condoms off the nightstand and chucked them down at Dean. The box just missed hitting Dean in the face which in and of itself sent a pretty clear message. “Just put one on already,” Felix ordered, “Fuck!”

Dean had never fumbled with a box of condoms so much in his whole life, not even his first time. If ever asked why he was going to blame it on his lube covered fingers even if he was pretty sure his nerves were more of the problem. He eventually managed to get the box open, rip one condom out of the pack and tossed the rest aside. At that point Dean was so beyond fucking around he didn’t even try to hide his eagerness by fumbling to open the stupid thick wrapper with his fingers, he brought it up to his mouth and ripped it open with his teeth.

“Eager?” Felix questioned playfully. When Dean dared to look up at him, he was quite the sight: Felix already had sex hair which, no surprise, looked fucking good on him. He was still flush, and his chest was still heaving. It was all very sexy but the smirk he saw on Felix’s face as he met his gaze put it all over the top.

Of course, Felix was mouthing off even at that moment because it was Felix. It was that sort of shit that made Dean love him.....

Wait…..

Nope, Dean didn’t have time to even consider trying to think about where that thought came from. He pushed it aside for the moment being and focused on the present. “Maybe a little,” he admitted with a grin of his own. God, he could feel himself blushing which felt ridiculous because he had been naked in front of Felix plenty and there was nothing he felt he needed to be embarrassed about in his own desires. Maybe it was that he was just then realizing how much he wanted this.

“About fucking time you showed it,” Felix countered sounding so fucking cocky Dean was half convinced that he had been the one that had been laying on his back moaning wantonly only seconds before.

It just made Dean smile. He sat up and pulled the condom out of the wrapper as he looked down at Felix incredulously, “You are really going to mouth off right now?” he asked teasingly.

“What? You want me to be fucking quiet?” Felix retorted confidently.

Well, he really had Dean there. Dean tossed the used condom wrapper aside with one hand. “No,” he admitted easily and truthfully before leaning in to press his lips against Felix’s once again.

Whatever Dean had expected to find in that kiss, he didn’t really know, but it was all heat, urgency, and the playful bite of teeth. Felix’s fingers entangled in his hair and tugged enough to send chills down his back as Dean took his own dick in hand and slide on the condom. Dean’s own touch was nowhere near as satisfying as it would have been if it was Felix’s hand, Dean knew. Still, the little contact to his own needy dick had shivers running down his spine with a mix of satisfaction and hunger.

Dean never hated anything as much as he hated pulling away from Felix’s lips at that moment. He did it because it had to be done, and he did it with purpose because he needed Felix’s lips and touch back. He snatched the bottle of lube off the bed, popped the cap, and poured a generous amount of lube on his hand.

Lube in hand, Dean once again reached between his own legs, took himself in hand, and gave himself a few strokes to spread the lube. It was surprisingly difficult not to moan at the simple touch, but he managed because boy, would that have been embarrassing. The fact that Felix made no attempt to hide how he watched Dean didn’t help things any because there was intensity and hunger in Felix’s eyes that was pulling him in. Ignore your shaking hands and the fact that I have no idea how I am supposed to do this, Dean told himself as he gave himself a few last strokes.

“Um, is this okay?” he questioned feeling weirdly bashful it all of a sudden. Felix’s only reply was to cork an eyebrow at him in confusion. Fair enough, Dean thought, it wasn’t like I was clear. He looked at Felix laid out before him like the yummiest present Dean had ever seen, and it didn’t decrease his want any. But laying out like that, so exposed, would Felix be comfortable like that? “This position?” he clarified with a little gesture.

Felix bit his bottom lip lightly which was just so fucking hot it wasn’t fair. “Yeah,” he answered after giving it a second thought. Dean noticed the slight blush that spread across Felix’s cheeks as he continued, “I mean, how else are we going to do it? Doggie style?” It was probably just in his head, but he thought Felix seemed to watch him like he was looking for some sort of reaction. Dean wasn’t opposed to doggie style in general, and Felix had an amazing ass so it could probably be hot as hell, but it didn’t feel all that intimate. He didn’t know if Felix saw something in his face or just decided to move past it. “No, this is good,” he assured although he didn’t sound completely certain.

Dean could have questioned it more and part of him wanted to, but that hadn’t gone over well so far. “If you’re sure,” Dean offered hoping that left things open enough that Felix felt like he could speak up if he changed his mind.

He leaned in once again and pressed his lips against Felix’s. They kissed as Dean shifted on the bed, moving up more so he was kneeling between Felix’s widespread legs. Felix didn’t waste any time waiting to wrap his legs around Dean’s waist, which was undeniably sexy. As his lips worked against Felix’s, Dean reached between his own legs and took his own dick in hand to put himself in position. When he felt his head press against the dimple of Felix’s furrowed entrance, he pulled away from Felix’s lips ever so slightly. “Ready?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Felix replied, and with this at least he seemed certain, “Just go for it already.”

Dean smirked at that before kissing Felix hard. As he kissed Felix as if his life depended on it, he pushed his hips forward as slowly and as gently as he could. There was a second where Dean could feel Felix’s tight hole resist before giving way, and Dean felt himself press past that tight rim.

The kiss ended almost the second Dean actually pushed inside because Felix turned his head away from Dean and let out a long wordless moan. Dean wasn’t much better as he groaned audibly at the sensation. He had thought Felix had felt tight on his fingers, but it was something else completely feeling that tightness wrapped around his hard dick.

As good as it felt, Dean still pushed in slowly, wanting to give Felix time to adjust. It felt like an hour, but it was probably more like five minutes before Dean was fully buried in the tight hot space of Felix’s ass.

It was so hot too, it filled Dean with the desire to shift and move and thrust in that snug heat. He didn’t, at least not right away. He waited a few seconds to give them both a chance to adjust. He listened to the sound of their heavy breaths mixing together in an arrhythmic way as he focused on all the things that could keep him grounded in reality rather than getting too lost in the sensation. There was just so much sensation and it was all so intense. It had stars dancing on the backs of his eyelids and electricity coursing through his veins.

When Felix’s breathing seemed to settle a little, and Dean thought the tight space of Felix felt a little more relaxed around him, he dared to move. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic, just a small experimental thrust, but it was enough to have Dean gripping the sheets at the feeling of it. Felix gasped and threw his head back as well, but the sound of him was at least practically drowned out by the sound of Dean’s blood rushing through his ear.

Dean didn’t know why he was already so close to coming, but he could feel the cold heat already rushing toward critical mass deep in his stomach. It wasn’t like it was his first time, but it sort of felt like it. Maybe it was just the months of tension that led to that moment, or maybe it was just that Felix felt that good.  

He kissed at Felix’s jaw, licked at his throat, and nipped at his earlobe as he found a gentle rhythm. The sounds of Felix gasping and sighing with pleasure at Dean’s every motion was like music to his ears. The smell of Felix, a mix of lemony soap and sweat was like a blissful haze over Dean’s senses which erased anything in the world that wasn’t Felix.

Dean body practically ached to go faster but he still had just enough reason to hold off. So many months of taking things slow, Dean knew this wasn’t the time to rush. The feel of Felix’s strong fingers tangling in his hair, his hard body under him, his tight rim gripping around his dick with Dean’s every motion and the warmness that lay beyond, it was all so much different than anything Dean had experience with his previous girlfriends. For the first time, Dean realized what everyone kept telling him about how this was going to be a first time for him too.  It definitely felt new.

Organically, slow experimental motions morphed to certain and rhythmic thrusts. The sounds Felix made changed with his motions: gasps and sighs turning to moans, cries, and the occasional curse word. All of it sounded pleasured, but just like when Dean had been fingering him, Felix was too quiet. Dean was used to the near constant string of profanity from Felix when they fooled around. He was pretty sure the only time Felix was quiet was when they were at Felix’s place, and Leonard was working in the other room, and that always seemed like it took some effort.

As Dean continued to move and Felix’s tight rim slid around his girth with the smallest motion filling Dean with such intense sensation, he ran one hand down Felix’s side. The feel of hard muscle as his fingers ran down Felix’s side and over his hip before settling to grip his thick thigh was especially thrilling. With that grip, Dean gently urged Felix’s thigh up until it came to rest over the top of Dean’s hip. It was barely a change, but it felt like so much more- tighter and hotter and just more.

“Fuck,” Felix moaned under him. Dean felt his fingers tug at his hair, and he heard the rustle of sheets underneath them as Felix scratched at them. “Dean…ooooh….there,” he moaned as he threw his head back a little.

“Felix,” Dean moaned. His hair tingled, and it felt like fire was running through his veins. It was all a million times more perfect the Dean had ever dared to imagine it would be.

He kissed at Felix’s neck as he felt Felix release his hair in favor of gripping at his bicep. The feeling of Felix’s short nails biting into his arm definitely wasn’t a negative. It probably shouldn’t have been, but Dean found it strangely arousing. It helped to give Dean something to focus on besides how tight and warm Felix felt and the growing ball of tension in his groin.

“Dean,” Felix moaned as his grip on Dean’s arm tightened almost painfully.

Dean tightened his own grip on Felix’s meaty thigh as he moved. “Felix,” he gasped out the name in the curve of Felix’s throat.

“Fu…ck,” Felix moaned with increased intensity, “Fuck, Dean!”

God, Dean hoped that meant Felix was getting close because he wasn’t sure how long he could resist the ecstasy that he could feel building within himself begging for release. “Yum, Felix,” he gasped into the crook of Felix’s throat, “You feel so…-” tight, warm, and perfect, “-good.”

“Ah, Dean!” Felix cried out in the most beautiful way Dean had ever heard, “Fuck I-”

“Felix,” Dean whimpered in response. Felix’s thighs tightened their hold on Dean’s waist and the heels of his feet pressed against Dean’s ass every time he pulled back urging him to thrust forward again. “Oh, wow,” Dean moaned as his arms began to shake with the intensity of the moment.

Dean gave in to his own desire and increased the speed of his thrusts a little. His toes practically curled at the sound of Felix gasping with pleasure at the subtle change. “Dean!” Felix moaned desperately as Dean could feel him growing tighter. There was a moment, no more than half a heartbeat, where the grip Felix’s thighs had on Dean’s waist became almost painful and then it all came to a perfect disastrous end.

“Fuck!” Felix cried out at an almost deafening volume as Dean felt him shutter under his continued thrusting. The way Felix’s thighs quivered around his waist, how he arched up off the bed, and how his nails bit into the meat of Dean’s arm were nothing compared to the feel of Felix’s entrance actually pulsing around his girth or the subtle but unmistakable feeling of hot cum spraying between them and across Felix’s stomach and chest.

Dean couldn’t ignore the perfection of knowing he had gotten Felix to cum or the rapidly building ball of pleasure deep within himself. The dam broke and a wave of undefinable, indescribable bliss washed over him as he managed a few last thrusts.

He may have gasped or moan. He could have prayed to every deity he could think of, Dean wasn’t sure. There was a long moment where the only things he knew was Felix: the smell of him, the taste, the feel of his skin against his own and his warmth. His entire existence buzzed warmly like the static that existed between radio stations.

Reality came back slowly and still far too fast before Dean couldn’t ignore the way his arms shook from the effort of holding himself up a second longer. He still managed to push himself up a little more unburying himself from the crook of Felix’s throat.

He gazed at the perfect that was Felix laying under him. He looked much like Dean felt: disheveled, exhausted to the point of being spent, and completely satisfied. His dark hair was tousled and spiked from sweat, his chest was heaving as he panted like he had just ran ten miles, his face was flush from the exertion, and he was wearing an easy little smile.

Dean could feel himself grinning ear to ear to the point that he was sure his face would actually hurt from it later, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was brave enough to dare lift one hand and reached down to brush a stray piece of hair back from Felix’s forehead.

“We really shouldn’t have waited so long to do that,” Dean admitted softly. He remembered his reasons for wanting to wait, and he still saw the logic in them, but they just didn’t seem as pressing as they had before.

Felix made a dismissive little noise and smirked up at him. “That was all you dude,” he reminded. The tone was very much an I told you so sort of thing, and Dean knew he deserved that.

“Right,” Dean admitted. It wasn’t like he could deny it because Felix had been saying he was ready and willing for months, and Dean had been the one putting the brakes on the whole thing. “I’m a fucking idiot,” he admitted sincerely.

It probably hadn’t been a perfect first time for Felix, but perfect was such an unreasonable goal, Dean recognized that now. It had still been pretty fucking incredible, and a hell of a lot better than either of Dean’s first times with his previous girlfriends. That was the thing that mattered, and Dean hoped that it had lived up to whatever expectations Felix had had.

He looked over Felix under him. He was glistening with sweat and there were a few streaks of sticky white cum on his chest and stomach. “And you’re hot as fuck,” he pointed out without shame. He didn’t think Felix could get any more attractive than he was, but he had. Dean could have simply marveled at the fact that Felix was his forever, he was that good-looking.

Felix pushed up and caught Dean’s lips in a quick kiss. The lust from before was cooled so the kiss felt affectionate and maybe a little lazy but not in a bad way. It spoke perfectly to the lingering sense bliss that Dean could feel wrapped around his senses.

Somewhat reluctantly, Dean pulled back and out of Felix’s warmth. Felix immediately groaned out a curse at the motion. It was definitely not a good sound.

Dean definitely had a moment of panic. Could he have misread everything so badly? Had he somehow managed to hurt Felix at some point and hadn’t realized? Was he really fucking it up now?

He swallowed all the panic down as he sat back on his haunches. “You okay?” He questioned with concern.

“Yeah, that just feels fucking weird,” Felix admitted as he pushed up a little, so he was sitting with his back resting against the pillows. He meant that, Dean could tell, which was a huge relief. As Felix reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a few tissues Dean pulled off the condom and climbed off the bed to dispose of it.

“Guess I’m just not a fan of that part,” Felix added as he blotted at the streaks of cum that were starting to pool in the curves that outlined the muscles of his stomach.

Dean returned to the bed and sat down so he was sitting cross-legged in front of Felix. He could have been happy to just stare at Felix laying naked on his bed like some kind of sex god, but he managed to find words. “What about the other parts?” he asked sincerely.

Felix looked up from his work as he continued to clean the mess off his chest and stomach and stared at Dean with a completely unreadable expression. “I mean you couldn’t tell?” he questioned gravely. There was a second where Dean was pretty sure his heart had literally climbed into his throat, and he couldn’t breathe until the wickedest little smirk spread across Felix’s perfect lips. He corked an eyebrow at Dean sardonically before asking, “Or are you just one of those guys that need to hear that you totally rocked my world? Is your ego really that fragile?”

Dean let out a long breath he really hadn’t been trying to hold and tried to play it off as a little laugh. “I don’t need to hear it, but it doesn’t hurt,” he admitted. That might not have been completely true because just hearing Felix allude to that had him breathing easier, but he wasn’t going to admit that. There really was no hiding the grin that he felt spread across his face. “Did I really rock your world?” he questioned teasingly.

“You are such a fucking asshole,” Felix declared as he reached out and gave Dean’s shoulder a playful shove.

There was no heat in it. It was such a playful and easy thing, and Dean couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect. He laughed and moved up the bed to lay down next to Felix. “Sorry,” he offered as he settled on his side to gaze at Felix still naked and next to him on the bed.

Felix tossed the used tissues in his hand in the direction of the trash can. He missed by a mile and didn’t seem to care as he moved to settle back on the bed with Dean. He laid so he was staring up at the cracked and discolored ceiling as Dean lay on his side next to him staring at him with complete reverence.

They didn’t really talk, and they didn’t need to. There was something perfect and comfortable in the shared silence. For a while, all there was was the sound of their soft breaths. After a moment, Dean reached out one hand and started to run his fingers down the hard lines of Felix’s body softly. Felix let out a low hum like a purr which certainly didn’t discourage Dean from continuing to touch him.

Felix was the most perfect thing that Dean had ever had in his life, and he was starting to think that he would never know anything better. Dean didn’t want anything or anyone else because how could anything ever compare to Felix or that moment.

Dean was the one that broke the silence with a question he hadn’t realized was on his mind until he was asking it out loud. “Would you want to stay over?” he questioned. Once it was said, Dean realized how badly he wanted that. He didn’t want to bring Felix home ever, he definitely didn’t want to bring him home that night.

Felix turned his head and looked at Dean with clear confusion coloring his bright hazel eyes. “Like tonight?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yeah,” Dean answered with a little nod. It was stupid, but he suddenly felt nervous or bashful about it. He was preparing himself for Felix to turn him down or just not be able to. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked at all to avoid any awkwardness, but he still really didn’t want to take Felix home. “My dad’s in Nashville for a three-day gig so I have the house to myself,” he explained as he focused his attention on his fingers ghosting over the prominent bone at Felix’s hip. “I thought maybe, I don’t know, you could stay if you wanted, and if your dad was cool with it,” he offered to try to offer Felix as many outs as he could think of just in case.

Felix stretched much like a cat in the sun, and it was equal parts sexy and lazy. Dean didn’t have much time to think any beside how he liked seeing Felix like that before Felix rolled over, so he was laying on his side facing Dean. Their knees just barely touched as Felix settled next to him with a thoughtful expression written across his face. He reached out a hand and gently pushed a stray hair away from Dean’s face before declaring seriously, “You are so lucky you are hot and good in bed because you ask stupid fucking questions sometimes.” Dean blushed despite himself and tried to downcast his eyes, but he and Felix were laying too close so there was no avoid Felix’s gaze. The hand that had so gently pushed the hair from Dean’s face settled at his hip as a cocky little smile spread across Felix’s face. “Of course I want to,” Felix assured in such a confident way it. “And my dad can go fuck himself for all I care,” Felix declared which really wasn’t anything new for Felix, but it still made Dean smile. He was sure it was a mindless thing, but Felix started tracing little circles on the skin of Dean’s hip which was pretty distracting in all the best ways. “But if I’m staying we have to order a pizza or something because I’m fucking starving,” Felix informed.

“God, me too,” Dean admitted with a little laugh. He had been so anxious about the day that eating before Felix came over had seemed pretty unappealing. Now that the anxiety was gone Dean was left feeling very satisfied from the sex and very hungry. “Do you want pizza?” he questioned as his mind started to run through the options. “No one delivers out here,” he admitted. His place was too far from town for shit like that which was one of the many reasons Dean had been so driven to get a car when he was sixteen. They could also drive into town for food, but that involved things like going outside or putting on clothes which Dean wasn’t really into. Or at least he wasn’t into the idea of Felix putting on clothes. He wanted Felix to stay naked forever. “It is probably quicker if I just cook something,” he offered.

“It’s food, I’m there,” Felix replied quickly before seeming to think about it. “You cook?” he questioned looking at Dean with a bit of surprise.

“Yeah, I cook,” Dean admitted with a smile. His dad was actually a pretty good cook, but he had just never been around consistently enough for Dean to ever rely on it. He had learned to cook at a young age as a survival mechanism, and it just sort of stuck. Dean guessed that was just another way Felix got to learn something new about him.

He started to roll over with the intent of getting up as he declared, “Just give me a few minutes, and I can get something started.”

Dean didn’t even manage to roll completely over before Felix hand caught him at the hip and stopped him. “Not right now,” Felix declared before moving on the bed until he was snuggled against Dean’s back with his arm slung over Dean’s stomach. “We should just lay for a little while longer,” Felix offered with none of the confidence he had only seconds before.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed happily as he settled back into Felix’s embrace, “I like that idea.”

Again, I hope this lived up to expectations!

[floralseokjin]

— off limits | 03 (m)

you've been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can't ignore the sexual tension that's simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse… 

pairing | kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings | slight angst, smut, dirty talk words | 10,930

» 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08  ✓

It took everything you had to not give into temptation. For some reason, Jin thought you were playing games the first couple of days after you told him messing around with each other was a bad idea. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He text you and text you. At first you replied, mainly to be nice and tell him you were in fact, not joking around! Hooking up secretly behind your brothers back was a terrible idea. Not only were you betraying his trust by lying to him, you were also in danger of ruining not only Kyuho’s relationship with Jin, but also your sibling bond too. You told Jin you couldn't live with the guilt and then when he still kept on trying to change your mind, you turned it on him—How was he able to live with all the guilt? He had fucked his best friend’s younger sister twice and he was still desperate for more...

When that hadn't worked, and he still kept texting you, you just ignored him. He got the message after three days and hadn't contacted you since. It felt like weeks with no contact, but in reality, it had only been eight days since you'd last seen him—when he had fucked you on his sofa. You were pretty sure you were going through withdrawal symptoms, which was annoying and stupid in itself. What was it about Seokjin that had you so heated up? So involved? You got that you'd had that unresolved sexual tension for a few months, but that should have been sorted the moment you jumped each other's bones back in your kitchen. It should have been a onetime thing. That was the agreement, but then you'd both wanted seconds—you'd both wanted more than that again.

Why couldn't you shake him?

Maybe it was because each time he kissed you and each time you were together you just felt exhilarated. You had never felt that kind of sexual connection with another guy before. It was strange. You felt comfortable with him. You let him speak to you in a way you would never let someone else do during sex. But with him it was hot. It was different. He was different. But you had to keep reminding yourself it was purely sexual. Seokjin was an incredibly handsome guy with a great athletic body. It was hard not to lust after him, even if you had never wanted to have sex with him in the first place. He just caught people's eyes, girls and guys.

It was sexual, that's why you were having a hard time sticking to your decision. You knew that. It would pass eventually. You'd get over it, and like you'd said after the first time; you both would laugh at this in a couple years’ time. A secret between the two of you. How crazy had you both been?

Only, you weren't laughing yet… You felt dejected. On the ninth day, you were conflicted. Kyuho had warned you how men were after one thing, and that was probably true at this age, but there was no problem if you felt the same, right? And besides, yes, reading that text from Jin about where he was contemplating, um, disposing of his seed next may have influenced your decision that night, but that didn't mean he was a player. Had he not told you he wasn't fucking anyone else besides you? That didn't seem like a fuckboy to you. In fact, you couldn't really think of a time where you had seen him talk derogatory about another woman or act inappropriately. Granted, you had never seen him with a girlfriend but that didn't mean anything other than he wasn't looking for anything serious. That was fine… That didn't make him a jerk. That made him a young guy enjoying his college life.

Yeah, when Kyuho said he knew what guys were like, he probably didn't mean Jin. His best friend.

Best. Friend.

That was the problem… and then the sinking feeling came back stronger than ever. That's what was really wrong. That was what was holding you back from calling Jin. If it was any other guy, you wouldn't be feeling like this. You wouldn't have taken Kyuho’s words so seriously. But there was a difference. Kyuho and Jin were best friends and fucking his sister wasn't what Jin should be doing. You knew that and Jin knew that, but as much as you knew it was wrong, it made things all the more hotter. Forbidden. That was the word and it seemed to play on your emotions even more. Maybe it was a conspiracy, that's why everything seemed more intense when you were with him. The forbidden fruit is always the tastiest.

But not now.

You had made your decision, and you wouldn't do this to Kyuho. No matter if it was just a causal hook up, it still wouldn't be nice if he ever found out. He would be angry, do god knows what to Jin and then everything would be ruined. You needed to stay away from Seokjin. However, that was easier said than done…

On the tenth day, he finally came to your house again. You should have known it would happen eventually. In fact, you were surprised it hadn't happened sooner. Maybe he was dubious and had stayed away, but now, here he was. You were in your room, reading on your bed when you heard the front door open and two voices appear from downstairs. You heard the low mumble of Jin’s voice, unable to make it out but it still squeezed at your heart. What was wrong with you?

You decided to stay in your room, hoping that maybe they'd either retreat to the living room and close the door or go into Kyuho’s room. That way at least you could go downstairs for a drink and snack. Thankfully your mom had already made you guys food, so there was no worry of being sat awkwardly opposite Jin for an hour.

You cursed yourself. Why had you ever told yourself it would be a great idea to hook up with him? You knew it could have never been a onetime thing, not when the first time was so good, and now you were here wishing you could have squeezed a third in before your conscience decided to kick in. You were so deep in thought that you realised you hadn't even been concentrating on what you were reading, just skimming the words as you turned the pages. You angrily shut the book and placed it on your night stand. You weren't sure why you were angry. At yourself probably and maybe for Jin having the audacity to be here right now…even though, you knew he had every right to. He was Kyuho’s best friend—how could you forget?

You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked up at the ceiling, wondering why you had gotten yourself into this mess, feeling sorry for yourself really, when you heard the familiar footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. You shut your eyes, praying it would be Kyuho, but he had been your brother all your life, you knew what his footsteps sounded like, and those weren't them. You hoped Jin was just going to the bathroom or something, but no longer than five seconds later, you heard a tap at your door, the rattle of his knuckles against the wood. What the hell was he playing at?

You got up slowly from your bed, your heart thudding a little as you walked to the door. You didn't think you were ready to face him yet. You didn't think you'd ever be. Was he mad? What was he thinking coming up here and trying to talk to you with Kyuho just downstairs? You took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob, opening the door slowly to form a crack until you came face to face with Jin, your hand pulling the door open further on it’d own accord when your eyes took him in further.

He looked good. His dark hair in his eyes, slightly unkempt as if he'd just woken up. He had a white long sleeved shirt on that seemed to hug his body, his hard chest visible and the neckline hung low to show his collar bones. You were about to cry. You were in physical pain. It wasn't possible to be this sexually attracted to someone. You were wrong when you thought a one off could possibly ever be a thing. It was the worst thing you'd ever done. At least before you didn't know what it was like to be kissed by him, touched by him—fucked by him… Now, it's all you could think of. You'd fucked up, and as soon as you looked into his eyes you felt your knees weaken.

“Hey,” he murmured, his lips curling up into a small smile, as if he was unsure of how to greet you.

You subconsciously took a step back, letting him walk forward, letting himself into your room essentially. You wanted to say no, but for some reason you couldn't. You wondered why—sarcasm intended. You watched him close the door behind him, already looking shifty, but when he turned to face you, you were surprised to see how serious he looked staring right back at you.

“Hey,” you copied, your eyes partially wide, not knowing what to do or say.

He on the other hand went straight for it.

“Look, I don't have long,” he sighed, “because I'm pretty sure Kyuho is gonna wonder where I am—I told him I was going to the bathroom… I just want to know…did I do something wrong?”

You felt your body stiffen in shock. Was he blaming himself? For some reason, you expected him to act childishly about this. To be annoyed, considering he hadn't given up in the beginning. But here he looked generally worried.

“Did I make you feel uncomfortable? Did I say something bad? Do something bad?” He carried on when you didn't have time to think of a reply. “I keep replaying everything in my head over and over again and I can't seem to find the part where I fucked up. Please, you don't owe me anything, but an answer would be—

“Jin,” you interrupted, the call of his name sharp to stop him continuing the muddle of his brain. “You didn't do anything to me…it was sort of just what we have done together…to Kyuho…” you explained pathetically, but you didn't know how else to say it.

You watched him furrow his eyebrows. “But… I thought you were the one who said it wasn't that bad…?”

“I know I did,” you replied quietly, feeling your stomach plummet. “But I've changed my mind. We can't do this to him, Jin. It was great—me and you, trust me,” you emphasised, “but he's your best friend—he's my brother…”

There was a silence for a moment, as you stood by your bed and he by the door. He looked like he was contemplating everything over and he looked as dejected as you felt.

“I really wish he wasn't your brother,” he muttered, almost to himself and you nodded.  

“I know, but there's nothing we can do… I think it's just best if we stay away from each other.”

You knew as soon as the words were out of your mouth he'd take them the wrong way, but you couldn't take them back and he scoffed, looking straight at you once again.

“You want me to stay away from you?” He reiterated. “How?!” He exclaimed, and you knew he was right.

Staying away from each other was literally impossible. He came to your house a lot and you saw him at parties. You didn't mean forever, but just until you were over the need to jump his bones every five minutes. Even right now, watching him get annoyed was doing things to you. The veins in his neck bulging a little, and it reminded you of when he was eating you out on his sofa. This was bad… You felt like a fiend. What the hell was wrong with you?

“I don't know—just for now, until this settles,” you rushed out, knowing exactly what you meant by this.

“It won't ever settle, because we've already done what we've done,” he retaliated and you felt a little sick.

You knew he was right. You've already had a taste of it and it would be damn hard to just forget it, but you needed to try. You were a strong person, you'd get over these urges.

“Don't you think I don't know that?” You hissed, careful to keep your voice to whisper, remembering Kyuho’s presence downstairs. “But if you stay away from me then—

“If I stay away from you?” He cut in, dumbfounded. “Are you trying to blame this all on me?”

“No, I—

“Because I'm very sure I remember you telling me in the kitchen just once was okay.”

He was correct. You had been the one to give in, but only because he had been teasing so hard. You weren't passing the blame onto either of you. He had said some things, done some things and so had you. You regretted it now, and you had only said for him to stay away because you knew you were too weak to try on your own. But it was too late now, he looked enraged, his face a little red, and you felt bad for accidentally blaming it all on him.

“Jin—

“Save it,” he stopped you, his fist already over the door handle as he tugged at it.

His last parting short hurt the most.

“I’ll stay away from you, it won't be hard.”

You were left alone to process that as he stormed out, leaving the door open and you slowly walked towards it and pushed it closed, standing with your back to it as your mind went through everything that had just happened. Did he really mean it wouldn't be hard for him to stay away? Even after all he had said? That was your worst fear. That he didn't want you as much as you wanted him. It was stupid, seeing as you wanted to keep away from each other. You should have been thankful. But all you felt was rejection. And now you were even more confused.

It was just five minutes later when you heard the low mumble of Jin’s voice excuse himself to leave. You couldn't make it out, but you could hear Kyuho say goodbye and the front door click shut. He hadn't even been here fifteen minutes.

He was already trying to stay away from you.

You could always count on your best friend to know something was up with you. That's how you found yourself at some house party a guy from her psych class was hosting. She wanted to cheer you up. She didn't know why you were upset—you hadn't even divulged your secret hook ups with Jin to her. Too embarrassed to admit them out loud. She didn't know what was up, but she knew something was, and she didn't like to pry, that's why you loved her so much. She would just let you sulk in peace. So here you were the following weekend, in some stranger’s house, stood awkwardly in the in the corner of the living room with Sunmi at your side.

You were too scared to move. You should have known Jin would be here. You should have really thought about asking Kyuho before you left if he was going too. Because wherever Kyuho was, Jin was too. You were know mentally kicking yourself. Last time you'd seen him was in the kitchen talking to Yoongi and your stomach had instantly started doing somersaults. You hated this.

As soon as you'd walked in you'd noticed him, as if your brain already knew he was here. And the same for him as he looked up and saw you. What hurt the most was the way he looked through you, as if you were no one to him. Just his best friend’s little sister. A stupid girl… A nobody… You'd said your greetings to Kyuho and then had been huddled with Sunmi this whole entire time. Wherever she went, you did too. You did not what to be alone. In fact, you were this close to feigning drunkenness to get home. You were supposed to be staying away from Jin, and now you realised how stupid that idea ever was.

It's not like Sunmi would ever believe you anyway. You'd been hugging the same red cup filled with vodka for the whole two hours you'd been here. Maybe you should just pretend you weren't feeling well… You hated life right now. Why was this happening? Why had you ever thought sleeping with Jin was a good idea? You could sense his presence when you couldn't even see him. It hung over you like a black cloud. You felt self-conscious for some stupid reason. As if you were constantly under scrutiny, even though you were sure Jin wasn't even paying attention to you at all. As if he'd care.

“Okay, seeing as you've been oblivious all night, I need to push you in the right direction,” you heard Sunmi whisper in your ear, pulling you out your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, your mouth open, clueless. What the hell was she on about? And then you watched her point a finger from the hand that was holding her cup, right into the direction of the opposite side of the room.

“He's been looking at you all night,” she told you, and for a moment your heart stopped.

Was it Jin? Had she caught on to something? Was she that observant? Your panicked eyes followed the direction of your finger, but to your surprise—and relief—it wasn't Jin at all. Your heart began beating again as you looked over at the tall, dark stranger. You had no clue who he was, but he was very handsome, and for a split second, you felt excitement wash over you. Especially when he thought he was being clever and took another glance in your direction, just to see you staring at him. He looked down quickly, but you saw him smile, his dimples appearing.

Okay. This was new. You hadn't felt this level of thrill in a while…not in over two weeks anyway…with Jin. You quickly shook your head. You were being stupid. You should just go home.

“I think he's been wanting to make his way over here for a while now, but I feel like I'm cock blocking you,” Sunmi whispered, and you looked back at her, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I'm just going to get another drink,” she grinned, already making her way towards the kitchen before you could stop her, a silent noise of frustration leaving you, but she was gone, shaking her cup as she went.

Oh, my god.

What the hell were going to do now? You could just follow Sunmi into the kitchen…or…just leave. You knew you were supposed to leave with her, but you were desperate and the chances of this guy coming up to you were pretty close to nothing. Sunmi was definitely wrong. Even if he was looking at you… You were left standing on your own awkwardly, cup in hand, your body moving back and fore, wondering where you should go—wondering if Jin was about laughing at how stupid you looked right now. For the past half an hour you'd been too scared to even look around. Was he around here somewhere?

Before you could make a decision, you heard a voice and you froze, looking up to see the handsome stranger. He was even more gorgeous up close, and you stuttered for words.

“Parties aren't your thing either, huh?”

He was looking at you with a smile on his face, but it froze when he realised you weren't replying, his eyes flicking around your face as he waited. Oh, fuck. You didn't know what the hell was wrong with you. You really though Sunmi had been bullshitting you.

“I-I—not really feeling it tonight,” you finally got out, not making sense at all.

Of course you weren't feeling it. You had been trying to avoid your brother's best friend and failing miserably.

He chuckled at that and the sound deterred you from your thoughts. It was really cute. In fact, really concentrating on him, he was really cute, period. Enough to make your heart flutter just a little…

“I noticed, you've been holding the same cup all night,” he noted, smile still on his face. Damn, his dimples were deep. “Me too,” he giggled, shaking his cup, showing you he still had half left.

He had been watching you all night? That made you space out for a second, feeling a little shy. It must have shown on your face because he looked scared for a moment, taking a step back as he held his hands up in surrender.

“Not that I've been watching you or anything,” he spluttered, and you couldn't help but giggle at that, his cute expression. He relaxed instantly at that and smiled shyly.

“I was just surprised to see you here,” he explained and you cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. Did this guy know you?

“I don't usually go to these kind of things—I recognise you from my Italian class, you're Y/N, right?” He asked and you nodded, eyes suddenly widening.

He was in that filler class you'd had to take? You had never noticed him, but saying that, you never paid attention while there. Still though…you thought you'd notice a guy like this…

“I'm Sejun,” he introduced himself, and you took the hand he'd held out to you with a bemused giggle, shaking it.

This was cute. What kind of guys still shook hands? You smiled up at him, watching him grin back at you, and you felt your belly flutter. It was hard not to when there was a hot guy this close paying attention to you.

“I'm only here because my friend said there would be pizza—I see no pizza,” he joked before laughing loudly and you joined him, surprised at how easy it was to relax around him.

“You have priorities, I like that,” you teased, your eyes meeting.

Wow, he had pretty eyes, they practically dazzled. You only realised you were still looking into them when he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Was that a moment you had just shared? You were rusty, and also, you hadn't expected it to happen. You in no way came here to flirt with random guys… but Sejun wasn't random, was he? He was in a class of yours. Granted you hadn't noticed, but now you would.

“I've been meaning to say hi for so long,” he admitted, dropping his hand from the back of his neck and you swallowed, watching the way he must have panicked at his admission and he quickly took a swig of his drink, wincing as he pulled back, obviously swallowing too much.

You giggled again, quietly, unable to stop yourself. He was pretty dorky. You liked that. You liked men who didn't take themselves too seriously… Your mind swayed to Jin and you felt your heart pang. He always seemed like he had his guard up. Of course you had heard him laugh and mess around with Kyuho, but you had never seen more than that. He always seemed like he was trying to keep a sophisticated exterior. Maybe he was just like that… you wouldn't know. You didn't know much about him at all. Just how good he was in bed. You shook your head, you shouldn't be thinking of stuff like that anyway. You guys were just fucking. It wasn't meant to be anything more. He didn't owe you anything. He didn't have to be himself around you when he was just trying to get into your pants…

Why the hell were you still thinking of him? You needed to move on. And here was a way you could—right in from of you…

“I wish you would have said hi sooner,” you replied, smirking a little, the flirt obvious in your voice.

What was the point in feeling guilty and sad? Sejun obviously liked you in some way, and he was cute. The perfect distraction from the sexual tension you felt towards Jin. There was no risk with Sejun. He was some guy in your class, not your brother’s best friend. He already seemed lovely. Kyuho would have no problem with this guy. He didn't even need to know about him, because there was no need to. There was also no guilt attached. You didn't know why your brain was thinking these things. You were going a little overboard. But that's how it was. Jin wasn't allowed. Jin probably didn't even want you.

You watched Sejun’s eyes bulge a little when he realised you were obviously flirting, and he cleared his throat again, seemingly building up the courage to say something again, his grip on his cup hard.

“Well, it’s a good thing I have now,” he smiled, catching your eyes, his dimples back. “I'm glad I came here tonight.”

“I'm glad too,” you replied, concentrating on the way his adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed.

You were so lost in thought, you didn't see someone walk up from behind him.

“Maybe you want to come outside—

“Y/N, your brother wants to speak to you.”

It was Jin. Of course it was. What the hell was he playing at interrupting you like that? And with something you knew wasn't true. You watched Sejun pause, turning his head to see who had cut him off short as Jin stood beside him. This was not staying away from you. You squinted, staring at Jin with suspicion and began replying slowly and precisely.

“Tell Kyuho it can wait till later.”

You knew full well it wasn't Kyuho who wanted to speak to you. Why the hell would he send Jin over to tell you?

“I don't think it can wait,” Jin insisted and you squinted harder.

Sejun was looking between both you and Jin with wide eyes, sensing some sort of strange tension and you silently cursed. You were going to have to go with him. You couldn't leave it. It was just making things increasingly awkward. You sighed loudly, annoyed Jin had won.

“Fine!” You snapped, and then you tuned to Sejun, your voice softer. “I have to go, I’ll come and find you when I'm done.”

“That's okay,” he smiled. “It's fine if you can't. I’ll see you in class.”

Wow. This boy was already too sweet for his own good, and you halted your footsteps. Going with Jin would only cause more drama, but you didn't have a choice. Your brain was dying to know what he wanted, and like a fool you had to go. But not before rubbing Jin’s nose in it. You would show him your world didn't revolve around him.

“Okay,” you nodded with a smile. “Save me a seat next time! Bye Sejun,” and as you began to leave, you let your hand drape across his shoulder and you squeezed down, earning you a look of shock from him, but he quickly recovered, grinning in the process.

“Bye,” he called as you got lost in the crowd and as you turned to wave, you felt Jin tug your hand, pulling you towards the staircase.

“Upstairs, now,” he hissed.

It shouldn't have, but the tone of his voice made stomach drop in excitement. It was stupid, a silly knee jerk reaction that you scolded yourself for, even more so because you were actually dumb enough to listen and follow him. What was up with you? Or even more to the question, what was wrong with him?! He couldn't be jealous…could he? The thought made you feel weird. You kept on following him until he found a door open to one of the bedrooms and motioned for you to enter first. He looked shifty as he looked around before entering too, making sure no one of importance noticed him and he closed the door, leaving you both alone.

You were suddenly aware that this was a bad idea. You were alone at a party, if anyone saw, it was bound to look suspect. You placed your drink on the cabinet, watching the clear liquid sway about in the plastic cup.

“I thought we were staying away from each other?” He asked, his voice above normal volume and slightly strained.

“We are,” was all you shrugged.

That's exactly what you'd been doing—staying away from him. You'd hardly looked in his direction. He was the one who had dragged you up here to interrogate you.

“What, so rolling up at the same party as me is doing that?” He deadpanned, his voice furious and you scoffed, seething by now.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know I wasn't allowed to come here,” you shot sarcastically. “All we have to do is stay away from each other—which I was doing, until you showed up dragging me to go speak to my ‘brother,’” you retaliated, using quotation marks with your fingers.

“So I'm supposed to stand there and watch you get it on with some guy,” he shot back immediately, and then it all made sense.

He was jealous. He couldn't have you and he didn't want anyone else to either.

“I wasn't getting it on with him—we’re friends,” you hushed him, not really understanding why you were lying to him.

Granted, you and Sejun apparently had a class together, but you had never noticed him nor spoken to him until tonight. Friends was a very loose term.

“You're in a class with him?” He asked, remembering your conversations from earlier.  “Have you always liked him? Even when me and you were hooking up?”

“What, no!” You exclaimed. You were confused. Why was he asking so many questions? “I've never even spoken to him properly before tonight”

“So you aren't friends?” He questioned, his voice firm. “You like him, right? Did I interrupt something? Was he about to take you upstairs instead? Do you want him to fuck you like I've been doing?”

Why was he acting so crazy? Interrogating you so much? Asking the most ridiculous questions? He had no right to act this way and you folded your arms over your chest, feeling defensive.

“Jealously is not a good look, Jin,” you informed him. “I don't want to do anything with him other than get to know him and be his friend. I hardly know the guy.”

You watched him eye you suspiciously as if he didn't believe you, which infuriated you even more. What the hell give him the right to act like this? You felt your blood begin to boil.

“And anyway, you don't own me. We weren't or aren't dating. I can fuck whoever I want.”

You watched him groan a little, wincing at what you guessed was the image of you and someone else having sex.

“That annoys you,” you observed, slightly amused. “I don't see why it does, you said it would be easy to stay away from me.”

“I know I did, okay? But it's not!” He half-shouted, and you froze, shocked by his passionate reaction. Maybe you had got it wrong…

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since you told me it's over. I was angry the other day in your bedroom and I said it, but I didn't mean it,” he explained, the words falling out of his mouth as if he'd been holding them in for ages. “Seeing you here just made it worse, and then you were giggling with that guy—you've never giggled with me like that.”

He sounded dejected, and you watched him with wide eyes, your throat turning dry. You wanted to tell you had always giggled at him when you used to flirt and mess around together, but since you'd hooked up twice, the dynamics had changed. Months and weeks of build-up frustration and you weren't looking to giggle at one of his jokes. However, no words would escape you as you watched him get more and more worked up.

“The bottom line is, I can't stay away from you. I know we should because you're Kyuho’s sister—but I don't want to. I'm going crazy.”

You watched him turn to face the end of the bed, gripping his hair in his hands as he yelled, kicking the drawers underneath loudly.

“Why do you have to be his sister?!”

You jumped, taken back but couldn't help but run over to him, one of arms coming out to wrap around his back. “Calm down!” You told him. “Stop it!”

He pressed back into your touch then, one of his arms snaking its way around your waist as he turned to face you. He was so close and it was so good to finally feel his body warmth again. It had been so long and you missed it. You could smell him, the strong scent of sandalwood filling your nostrils and intoxicating your brain. He was dressed in that white long sleeved shirt again, making his tanned skin pop and his collar bones peak over the neckline. He looked good, smelled good and felt good… This was a bad idea.

He gripped both of his arms around your waist now, your arm around his back sandwiched tight to him and he gazed deeply into your eyes, as if he was contemplating something. Whatever it was, you knew you hadn't the strength to say no to him—not that you wanted to anyway. You knew staying away from each other wouldn't last very long, but you would at least try…

“Jin…” you lightly warned, watching him drop his head to nuzzle into your neck. You could feel his lips and breath on your skin gently. He wasn't kissing you, just letting his face lie flat against you, and you give up that easily, glad he was holding you around the waist because you would've crumbled otherwise. It felt so good to be back in his arms.

“Just one more time…” he whispered against you and you shuddered at the feel of his plush lips on your skin, moving back and fore as he spoke.

“It's not gonna be just one more time though,” you said, although you weren't trying to stop him now—just pointing out the obvious.

You'd tried to stay away and you couldn't. Period.

“Just until we’re out of each other's systems,” he carried on, now kissing your neck lightly. “Just until we get bored of each other.”

You wanted to point out that you'd never get bored. He would definitely get sick of you first and that's what you were most worried about, but now he was kissing up your jaw and just like that you turned your head to meet his lips, instantly feeling complete now that they were pressing together again. All the stupid little thoughts of your over-active imagination disappearing faster than a blink. The boy in your Italian class a distant memory.

The kiss was languid but he moved fast, already snaking his tongue to meet yours as you parted your lips. He tasted the same and you revelled in his warmth, pulling your arm from behind his back to wrap around his neck, you other hand falling flat against his chest and you moaned softly, your breathing beginning to deepen as you lost yourself in the kiss, your tongues entwining together.

“I missed you,” he murmured, pulling away to tangle his fingers in your hair and your feet moved backwards as he walked forwards, his body pressing against yours, his mouth kissing down your jaw again, the sweet noises filling your ears.

“Mmm,” you moaned, losing yourself in the sensations, your skin tingling all over. “Touch me, Jin.”

You needed him. It had been too long. You needed his hands on your body.

“I've missed you too.”

He obeyed straight away, his hands falling to your waist and to your breasts, caressing the supple flesh over the sheer fabric. You sighed out in pleasure, your own hands coming across his wide shoulders and raking your fingers over his back, feeling the hard muscles flex and relax under your fingertips. You took the I initiative to reconnect your lips again, kissing him with a fervour now as his palms squeezed at your breasts, your nipples growing hard in arousal as a heat flushed down to your core, your thighs beginning to burn. You loved his hands on your body and you craved more, especially when he grunted into your mouth, pressing his crotch flush to yours and you felt the lump of his already growing erection—having this effect on him too made you lose yourself even more.

“Fuck—I want you so bad,” he groaned. “I can never get enough.”

You knew getting this cosy was a bad idea in the middle of a party. Anyone could walk in! But you had no time to stop and think of a more rational plan, like leaving to go to his, or maybe even just stopping for now and finding a time where you were both alone. Right now that wasn't an option. You wanted him and he wanted you. To hell with the consequences.

“Have me then,” you practically purred, pulling away from his mouth with a pop and running your fingers down his chest, feeling his hard pecs and he groaned again before a smirk appeared on his lips.

“You really want me to fuck you up here—even if someone might walk in?” He asked and you nodded excitedly, feeling him run his hands up and down your sides before falling to the curve of your ass and squeezing each cheek tight.

“You’re so naughty,” he teased, moving you backwards as he looked around, his eyes glancing across the bed, but he shook his head, lowering his head to kiss you once again, long and hard and he pulled away panting.

As he guided you, you felt your ass hit the edge of the desk in the room, and Jin hoisted you up by the waist. You wrapped your legs around him, feeling him slip between you and you began to kiss again, sloppily and urgently, your hands travelling up his shirt to feel his hot skin.

“Why not the bed?” You mumbled in between kisses and he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not fucking you in some stranger’s bed—that’s nasty.”

You chuckled with him, before you began to kiss again, lost in the moment, and your fingers fell to his fly, unbuttoning his pants furiously. You may have been intoxicated with passion but you weren’t stupid—you didn’t have much time. The door wasn’t even locked for crying out loud.

He let you do it, his own hands busy as he stroked and groped your clothed skin, undoing a couple of the buttons on your shirt to see the curve of your breasts better, partially covered by your black laced bralette. His fingers brushed over the lace and then you felt him pinch your nipple, making you hiss into his mouth. He took the chance to nibble and suck on your bottom lips as you finally got all his buttons loose, pulling his pants and underwear down in one go, his cock bouncing out, tip red and angry, already as hard as a rock. It just made your ego swell and the heat between your legs burn brighter, your arousal already dampening your panties and he hadn’t even touched you down there yet.

You kicked your flats off as he pulled away from your mouth, panting as his own fingers found the fly of your jeans and unzipped them. You lifted your hips up letting him pull the material over the curve of your ass and all the way down your legs, flinging them to the floor. He went for your panties then, his eyes falling to your soaked centre when he pushed them down, biting his bottom lip. You flicked the lacy fabric off one leg and they dangled off the foot of the other.

Spreading your legs for him, you watched him push his pants down to rest on his thighs, his eyes burning into your heat and you used one hand to bunch up your shirt, showing more of your body, strands of hair falling in your face. He grabbed the base of his dick, pumping it a couple of times as he moved closer.

“As much as I'd love to eat you out right now,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss your parted lips, your eyes on his dick as your sex practically pulsed in desire. “—I don't think we have time.”

You kissed him for a moment, letting your tongue flick out of your mouth to find his, but he captured it with his mouth, sucking it gently with his own muscle and you whined, your hands sliding to graze across his pelvis, feeling the little hairs that lead to his dick, before griping his hip and rolling your hips towards him, trying to tempt him into sinking inside of you already.

He smirked against your mouth and pulled away and you finally felt him touch you, the head of his dick sliding against your slit, spreading your arousal. You moaned, the sensation too much and he grinned.

“Are you sure you can take it without any warm up?”

“Trust me,” you sighed weakly, still bucking your hips into him. “I'm ready. I need you—C’mon,” you practically wailed.

Even though you knew he wanted to tease you, you could tell the feeling was too much for him as well—that, and there was a time limit. The adrenaline in your body was pumping through your veins, your heart thudding in your chest, knowing you could get caught at any time, but for some reason it just turned you on even more, and you could hear the slick noises of your juices spreading around the head or Jin’s dick as he kept on rubbing your swollen sex.

“Fuck me, Jin—” you groaned, your words catching in your throat when you felt him push inside of you suddenly and your head fell back, moaning as he grunted, his hands gripping around your thighs as he shuffled closer, slowly pushing more and more inside, your walls gripping every inch before he bottomed out.

He was left panting, dipping his head to press his forehead against yours as he gained his bearings. The stretch was painful due to no foreplay, despite how wet you already were, and your tight walls seemed to be too much for him. You could feel them squeezing around his dick non-stop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted through his teeth, taking shaky breaths. “Why do you get tighter every time?” He asked himself and you would have giggled if you weren't so overcome with pleasure right now, the pain dispersing as you got used to the stretch.

You grew impatient, rolling your crotch towards him and he gasped as you began sliding yourself up and down his length, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. You looked up at him smiling at his cute expression, his mouth wide open as he watched himself disappear and reappear inside of you and he caught your eyes when he looked up, cocking an eyebrow. Your stomach jumped around.

You guessed playtime was over.

“Quit being a tease,” he growled and you gulped, your stomach doing flips as he took a step back to gain leverage, beginning to thrust his own hips now.

“You think you can tell me you don't want me anymore and then laugh when you get me so fired up?” He questioned and you couldn't play along even if you tried.

His thrusts were getting harder and your breasts jiggled in their bra, your shirt falling open wider and you moaned loudly, your hands finding the edge of the desk to clench your fingers around it, your knuckles turning white.

“Jin—oh my god, Jin!” You cried and he grunted, bucking even faster into you, your name helping his ego and making him want to please you harder.

“Do you think that guy downstairs could fuck you like this?” He asked, taking you by surprise and you froze for a moment, watching him fuck into you relentlessly. “He doesn't have it in him.”

You wanted to say you hadn't even thought of Sejun in that way. Why was Jin even thinking of something like that? Was he really that jealous over something so stupid? You guessed it was cute in a weird way… He had nothing to worry about, you didn't want anyone but him… You shook your head in reply which seemed to gear him on even further and he grit his teeth, his eye clenching shut. He had never fucked you so hard before and you guessed it was the pent-up frustration from the past two weeks, doubled by the fact he was trying to come quickly. This was the riskiest situation you'd been in yet, even worse than in your kitchen. Because this time it was more than one person who could walk in and catch you. Literally anyone could barge through the door, regardless of if they knew you or not. It made your gut twist in fear, but if anything, it made the sex more intense and you were losing yourself, moaning loudly. If there were people in the next room, they'd definitely hear two people fucking. You were sure the desk was banging against the wall too, but you couldn't be too sure because your mind was getting clouded, your ears muffled as if you were under water. Maybe you were close to coming, you had no clue. Jin was the first guy you'd had sex with who could make you come with just his dick. The others usually blew their load before they could hit your g-spot…

“Baby, you're gonna have to keep quiet,” Jin suddenly whispered, sliding your butt further off the desk so he could lean closer to you, and you realised you must have been moaning pretty loudly. You had no idea.

“As much as it’s fucking hot to hear you chant my name again, everyone is going to know I'm getting some…shh,” he hushed you, his lips finding yours and your hands left the edge of the wood to wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close.

It hindered his leverage, but it made your tryst more intimate, your skin both hot and sweaty as your thighs stuck together in a tangle. You used his mouth as a gag, able to moan freely as he swallowed each one up with his tongue, his panting loud as he gripped your hips. Your ass was sticking to the wood, sliding stiffly as he continued to rock into you and you could taste your release. Maybe it was because you had missed him so much and the feeling of his dick was too much for your sensitive core, but you could feel your thighs tremble around him, the muscles flexing as you tried to warn him.

You could tell he was close too, his fingers trembling as he dug them into your flesh. His moves seemed desperate and needy as if he'd missed you too, and you could tell he was overcome with the feeling just as much as you because he wasn't speaking much. The dirty talk was great and turned you on so much, but for some reason, here in this strange room, nothing but your moans and groans of pleasure bouncing off the walls, you had never felt so aroused. It was incredibly intimate, regardless of the situation…

“Jin, Jin,” you panted, trying to tell him, but you knew he realised you were close, you were clenching on him like no tomorrow, and just as you could feel it building to the point of no return, there was emptiness—

Jin had pulled out. He wasn't inside you anymore and you felt your orgasm disappear into nothing again, your walls constricting around an invisible dick. You whined in annoyance, watching him chuckle at your misery. The dick—you should have known it was too good to be true. He was still into teasing and he'd been waiting for the right moment. Your thighs were still tingling, your clit pulsing as it begged for attention, needing another way to find your release but all that happened was he stepped backwards, taking his dick in his fist as he began to jerk himself off, using your juices that coated his length as lubrication.

What the hell was he playing at? Was he actually going to come like that and leave you hanging? You could already see the way his lower stomach muscles were clenching and he was holding his breath. He really was going to come!

“Jin,” you whined, moving closer to him so you could grip his hips, trying to lure him into fucking you again and he buckled at your touch, moaning lowly.

That was pretty hot, you thought. Why was he so effected by your hands on him…? You experimentally run your fingers down towards his balls, caressing them and he moaned again, sliding his fist faster up his cock now, his thumb digging into the slit, and you suddenly had an idea. Maybe if you give him the best orgasm of his life, he'd give you one too?

You brought your hands back to his thighs, dropping your head so you could kiss gently up his flesh. He buckled again, his hand now slowing down as he looked down at you curiously.

“Can I taste you, Seokjin?” You asked sweetly, battering your eyelashes. “I want you to cum in my mouth. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

He nodded open mouthed, his hand instantly dropping and swaying by his side and you took the chance to grab him by the base instead, feeling how wet his dick was because he'd been inside of you. His flesh was red and hot and you swooped down, taking the tip inside your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. He moaned loudly, his hands coming out to tangle into your hair and you took him deeper, bobbing your head up and down. You could taste yourself on him and it turned you on even more, making you clench your thighs together to stop the burn that ached between them.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” he groaned, pushing further down your throat and you moaned in agreement, the vibrations traveling up his dick and making his knees buckle.

You knew he wouldn't last long, his cock was pulsing inside your mouth, the flesh scorching and you were secretly pleased—your neck was beginning to ache being arched in this position. You moved off him a little, making sure the head was still in your mouth and you sucked, feeling his blunt nails dig into your scalp. His panting turned frantic and you used your spare hand to cup his balls, helping him reach his release.

“I'm—I’m, oh my god—fucking hell,” he groaned, fumbling over his words until it was too late and you felt the hot liquid shoot into your mouth, his balls constricting as he came and you swallowed, making sure to run your tongue over his slit, desperate for every last drop. You looked up at him as you did so, your eyes lidded with desire and he whimpered—actually whimpered! You felt euphoria wash over and you pulled away with a pop, using his hips as a weight to stand up, watching him pull up his pants, buttoning them up messily.

You instantly pressed yourself into his body, nuzzling your head into his neck. You were still in the mood, your body still buzzing and you needed some relief. You couldn't go downstairs just yet feeling like this. You didn't care if someone walked in right this minute, not even Kyuho—you needed to come!

“Did sucking me dick turn you on?” Jin teased, gripping the back of your neck to pull you to face him and you nodded, biting down on your lip as you took in his expression.

His eyes were still blown out, dark as night, his brow scrunched up slightly as he still felt dazed from his orgasm and you reached up to kiss him, pecking harshly at his plump lips which he returned gladly.

“What do you want?” He questioned, pulling you back to watch you carefully. “To cum?”

You nodded, your heat already pulsing and clenching in excitement, your body pressed tightly to his to relieve some pressure.

“You have to tell me if you want it so bad,” he smirked and you silently cursed.

Seeing as he wasn't overcome with pleasure anymore he was back to himself. Not that you were complaining that much. It was hot and only turned you on even more.

“I want to cum,” you whined, kissing his neck. “Please make me cum.”

“Should I, though?” He asked and you looked up to see him cock an eyebrow. “You’ll have no reason to come back to me then–if I give you what you want.”

Did he really think that? Or was he just playing? You didn't think you'd ever be able to stay away from him now. He'd said he'd missed you, that he couldn't stop thinking about you… Despite knowing you should leave him alone, you didn't want to. You couldn't do it. You'd tried and failed.

“It’ll give me all the more reason to,” you grinned, running your hand down his chest, and he couldn't help but grin too.

You felt his hand come up between your legs and you silently celebrated. You had won. The tips of his fingers teased your slit, spreading your old arousal around your clit before falling to you entrance, finding you even more drenched than before, your juices beginning to dampen down your thighs. You didn't think anybody had gotten you this wet before, and you gasped when he pushed two of his digits up you with no warning, rubbing them around before curling them up and instantly finding your g-spot. He was a man on a mission—you didn't have long, and each movement was calculated and hard.

You collapsed into his body, your thighs already shaking as he grazed your sensitive walls and you moaned quietly into his ear, your chest flush to his, happy when he used his other arm to wrap around your waist and hold you in one place, now fucking straight up into you. Your legs trembled with the force, your moans getting caught in your throat as you concentrated on the immense pleasure washing through your body. You could feel every twitch of his digits, each pad of his fingertips, your walls clenching around him, and you knew it wouldn't be long until you came, even more so when he brought his thumb to your clit, furiously rubbing figure eights into the swollen, hard bundle of nerves.

“Come on, baby girl. Let go for me—I know you want to,” he urged, snapping his wrist harder up into you and you looked down, a loud moan leaving you as you watched his fingers enter you with vigour.

Your knees were buckling, you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening, your feet wanting to collapse underneath you and you grit your teeth, letting the feeling take over, concentrating on the feel of his fingers and the dirty words he was whispering into your ear as you pressed yourself against his body tight.

“Cum for me. Cum on my hand—You're practically falling apart,” he gritted out, squelching filling your ears with each thrust of his fingers and turn of his thumb. “I promise next time we're alone I’ll eat you out so good. You'd love that, right? My mouth on your cunt sucking you hard. I bet I’ll make you cum so fast and I won't even stop, not until your cumming again.”

Your body felt like it was on fire and you couldn't get any sounds out, your throat dry as he held your weak body, your head flying back as his dirty words took you over the edge, your clit pulsing into his thumb as you clenched down on his fingers like a vice grip. The pleasure shot through you like molten lava and you cried out, your body tensing as he halted his movements, enjoying the way your walls hugged him and released him explosively.

“Oh my god, Jin,” you sighed loudly after a few seconds, trying to gain your bearings but still panting loudly, your body feeling like jelly.

“My job here's done, right?” He grinned, pleased with himself as he pulled out of you, running your arousal on his pants, and you stumbled a little, glad he was still holding you up with his arm.

You didn't reply, just reached up to kiss him some more. You knew you didn't have much time to mess around like this, especially because you were naked from the waist down, but you didn't want it to end yet. You could never have enough of him.

“Come on,” he murmured after a couple of minutes of making out, his hands dropping from your waist as he pulled away. “We should get going before we get caught,” and you whined, causing him to chuckle, but he still let you go and walked over to wear he'd flung your jeans. You looked down to realise your panties were still pooling over one foot and you blushed a little when you bent down to pull them back up.

“We have next time…and the time after that…and that—right?” He asked, as if he was making sure this wasn't another one off.

You nodded quickly, taking your jeans from him that he was holding out to you. There would definitely be another time, unless something stupid happened now, like Kyuho walking in and catching you. At that thought, you quickly went to put your leg through one of the holes of your jeans, needing to get dressed quickly. You'd only been gone forty minutes tops, but it was still dangerous. Sunmi had left you in hopes of you making conversation with the handsome stranger and here you were upstairs with Jin. Was she looking for you?

As you fumbled you heard the tell-tale signs of the door handle turning and you just had enough time to look at Jin wide eyed before he pointed to the bathroom attached to the room. You darted inside, hiding beside the door and leaving Jin alone inside by the bed. The door opened and you listened for any voices you may recognise. All you heard was Jin.

“Yoongi—what are you doing here?”

It was Yoongi.

Your heart began to thud in your chest. What the hell were the chances it was someone you knew? Granted, you didn't know him well at all, but Jin did! You tried to keep as quiet as you could, freezing on the spot as you clutched your jeans to you.

“I was looking for a bathroom,” you heard him drawl and you panicked, watching Jin’s expression as he tried to keep his cool.

“Uh, there's not one in here,” he stumbled.

“What do you mean? I can see the door from here?” He deadpanned.

“N-No!” Jin half-yelled, panic evident in his voice, as you heard Yoongi move towards you. “T-There's someone in there.”

There was silence then and all you could hear was the heavy thudding of your heart. You were done for. You knew it.

“Oh,” was all Yoongi said. “Oh,” he repeated, a knowing grin evident in his tone even though you couldn't see his face. “I see how it is—sorry to interrupt,” and you heard his footsteps begin to fade out.

Relief washed over you—he was leaving.

“I’ll see you back at home then,” Yoongi chuckled and you watched Jin wave him off with a nod.

As soon as the door closed again, Jin was with you in the bathroom, his eyes wide with panic as he clutched your shoulders, but his expression soon turned to shock when he heard you laugh. You didn't know why you were laughing, but you knew you needed to keep it hushed and you put your hand over your mouth, muffling the sound. You were feeling giddy, your heart still hammering in your ribcage, the adrenaline buzzing through you.

“That was close,” he noted, but he seemed to relax more knowing that you were okay with it and he began to laugh too.

“Let's never do that again, okay?” You got out.

Jin nodded in agreement. “From now on we fuck when we’re officially alone.”

“So, what you're saying is, you want to exclusively fuck your best friend’s sister?” You asked slowly, teasing him and he nodded again, leaning in to peck your mouth.

“Yes, I want to exclusively fuck my best friend’s sister, preferably without being found out and getting the shit beaten out of me,” he added, going in for another kiss.

You giggled into his lips, your mind feeling clearer than ever. You still knew you and Jin needed to talk some more, but here in this party was a bad idea. There would be plenty of time another day. Right now, all that mattered was that you knew you didn't want to stay away from Seokjin. Whatever this thing was you had, you didn't want it to end. For better or for worse. But right now you didn't care. Maybe you'd regret it soon enough, but you pushed those thoughts from your mind.

You'd made your decision.

“Okay, now we really need to go,” he told you, pulling away from your mouth, and you knew he was right. “Before someone else comes in looking to piss. I’ll leave first and then you go after a few minutes, okay?”

You waited ten more minutes after he went, making sure you were dressed properly, finding your flats by the bed, and you made sure your hair and makeup looked okay, wiping the eyeliner smudges from under your eyes—you had no clue how that had happened. You quietly snuck out the room and shut the door, looking around in case you saw anyone you recognised in the hallway. Luckily for you, you didn't and you sighed in relief, making your way downstairs. You jumped when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N, where the hell have you been?!”

It was Sunmi and before you could think of a possible excuse she carried on, talking a mile a minute.

“It doesn't matter, let's get out of here—I saw Brian in the kitchen. Can you believe he tried to talk to me as if nothing happened? As if he hadn't cheated on me?!”

You let her drag you to the front door, still groaning on about her ex, but you were happy for the distraction. You didn't need her asking questions. You knew she was your best friend and you should probably tell her everything, but you knew the tidbit of information was too much to handle. She'd only tell you how stupid you were being.

As you left, you turned your head behind you, curious to see if Jin was anywhere and just like magic you caught his eye. He shot you a dazzling smile which you returned. He was with Yoongi and a couple of guys you didn't recognise. Kyuho was nowhere to be seen and you guessed he must've been outside, thankfully. Your grinned when Jin mouthed “I’ll see you soon” and winked, feeling yourself blush. You knew he was playing with fire, but for some reason that just made it more interesting…for now…

As you turned your head back to follow Sunmi outside, you caught someone else's eye too. Sejun, and you heart stilled for a moment. He had definitely seen you share that moment with Jin—the guy who you had gone upstairs with so obviously. You panicked, smiling at him shyly as you left, which he returned, of course he did—he was too sweet for his own good, shaking his cup he was still in holding in farewell, still in the same spot you had left him.

There was no way he knew who your brother was, or if Jin was best friends with him. It was fine. You didn't need to worry, but you did feel at least a little guilty… You had obviously flirted with him in Jin’s company and now you looked like a Class A bitch. That wasn't the case, and you felt bad he'd gotten caught up in your drama for a second, but he was probably just being friendly anyway. He wanted to be friends. That was good.

Everything was good.

You had Jin had sorted it all out. Everything was fine.

Or was it…?

[jinjikook]

Of Tiger Diamonds & Dripping Gold (M)

word count: 7.1k

genre: smut; slumlord/pimp! au + established relationship

pairing: reader/jooheon

warning(s): mentions and depictions of murder, blood, drugs, prostitution, slurs, very rough sex and all else that comes along with being a pimp/slumlord. please don’t read if this or anything along these lines bothers you, thank you.

a/n: there are several warnings with this fic, it is drastically different than my usual writings and therefore i feel as if i should warn readers before hand so please make sure to read them before reading the fic.  

masterlist

“Hey kitten, how’s it shakin’?”

You smiled brightly, watching with trained eyes as Jooheon re-entered his snazzy office, brandishing his usual attire of dark clothes and lavish jewelry; his gold shone off him like a beacon in the room.

He always said only your smile could compete with the gleam of his precious jewels, that nothing else could possibly have such a deep-set hook on his heart like you and your glittery eyes.

“It’s been pretty calm, though Changkyunnie tried to steal me away again.” You tittered, eyes trailing down to catch on the decorated right hand of your lover, his fist slightly clenching and fingers twitching from the slight annoyance he had towards his friends/associates whenever they tried to make a move on you, whether it was sarcastic or not.

He chuckled darkly like he always does whenever he has something dirty or dangerous planned, and you knew you wouldn’t be coming out of this room unscathed.

“Tell me baby, did you follow my instructions like a good girl?” Jooheon drawled, body stealthily slinking behind his wide and varnished desk that was ornately covered in his prized possessions. You prowled up to join them, sitting on your saved corner that was meant solely for you.

Jooheon finally let his eyes properly envelop your body, eyes scanning as you slowly let the shoulder of his white tiger-print fur coat slip off your body to reveal what you had hidden underneath. The middle parts, the coat now completely off your shoulder and the set of white lace lingerie that Jooheon had so graciously bought you was adorning your body, hugging every twist and curve that gave on the slopes of your skin.

“Perfect.” He whispered under his breath, hot and rumbled deep in his throat. Jooheon sat back in his expensive leather chair and it squeaked as the weight redistributed on its frame. His hand came up to rub at his chin, appreciating the art that was your body clad in gifts from him; his length already began to grow hard under his tight jeans.

You tried to bat your eyelashes as seductively as possible, though you already knew it was the air of innocence you had that truly made Jooheon go wild. He loved to ravish you in ways you thought were only imaginable. To ruin something so pure; so untainted, it was what really made him so attracted to every aspect of you.

He used to be cold, critical and clinical. He runs the biggest drug and prostitute ring in the city, some say even as much as the entire central district. Jooheon had an iron fist, immoveable in any way, shape or form. It’s how he became so successful; he had nothing to begin with and he built it all up with the means of never losing it.

But he’d give it up gladly for you.

It was a fated day when he stumbled across your stunning form; a gala of some sort that he had been invited to since he had provided the “entertainment” for the night. His eyes had never left you, you had him enraptured with your essence with the way you walked and talked amongst the rich and dainty of the business community. He had never felt such attraction, not even when his best and most beautiful women were open and pliant underneath him. He wanted to destroy the beauty you hid under your tasteful dress, one that was certainly much more appropriate than the other guests were wearing.

That night he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and snuck his hand under your dress, leaving fleeting touches that felt like sore bruises the day after, the kind you loved to just put pressure on just to relive it another day.

You’d never given into temptation so much; your consciousness flew out the window Jooheon had rasped to you on one of the nights you’d snuck out to meet with him; a usual occurrence for the two of you. He had lovingly begged you to stay with him, eyes and lips dripping of affections and infatuation. You’d be a fool to say no, even with the weight of a thousand hit men and competing women already tugging at your shoulders.

You knew Lee Jooheon was bad news, that he was the kind of dangerous that your parents warned you to stay away from.

But you were always a brat; a dramatic one at that.

“Do you like it? It’s pretty comfy, though the coat makes me feel really hot. And not in the good way,” You giggled, letting your precious smile gleam through once more in a way that made Jooheon’s heart and cock twitch with too many swirling emotions to name each and every particular one.

Jooheon let his fingers wander over his plump lips, his tongue trailing right behind them as they passed over the pink surface. His breath ghosted over his digits as he voiced his opinions, “It all looks absolutely stunning on you baby girl. I want to ruin you already.” His eyes grew dark as he continued to roam over the expanse of your lace-covered sex.

You hummed teasingly, reaching for the side of the coat that had slid off you to re-cover what had been revealed.

“Mmmm, too bad you can’t,” smirking knowingly, you hopped of the desk and made way to the package that someone left with you earlier; a tall guy with a cut on his nose who you were pretty sure was named Chanyeol.

“You have work to do—baby.” You made sure to tease him a little more as you presented the obscurely wrapped package, the plain brown paper casing telling you it was probably drugs of some sort. Maybe cocaine? You were pretty sure he was due for a shipment any one of these days, though you always got his cocaine and marijuana shipments mixed up.

Jooheon impatiently clicked his tongue and shook his head; a sign that he was really gonna give it to you when the time came. Your core already throbbed in anticipation for the bruises you’d be touching for days after. One of your favorite things to look at were the ones that were the size of the pads of his fingers, five in succession on the skin of your hip, along the meat of your ass and around the column of your throat. Nothing made you crave soreness like Jooheon.

Being a brat had its perks, at least for you.

Jooheon donned his patented leather gloves, sure to eradicate any ties with his tarnished prints, and began to tenderly tear at the package. The care was only in the interest of being a good business man, once it left his hands he could care less about how the product is treated. After all, that’s all it truly is. Product.

All the wrapping torn off, you could finally see the tightly packaged case of pure cocaine, the white powder packed into a rectangular shape. You checked off a mental scoreboard for the times you got the product right, learning more and more every day how this business was run. Sure, this wasn’t your typical “corporation” you were used to but after a few months tightly by Jooheon’s side, you had learned a thing or two and ended up realizing just how lucrative it was. At the end of the day, you honestly lost all loyalty to your morals and realized that world was dirty and gritty and shit like this just happens. No one can really put a stop to it so might as well enjoy the ride; the very smooth and luxurious one that Jooheon allowed you to have.

“Hmm, it seems like Jongdae has been trying to cheat me. C’mere baby, lemme show you how I know.” Jooheon beckoned you with one sinful finger, your mind already bringing back the multitude of memories you had catalogued of just how skilled that finger was.

Jooheon illustrated how the item was packaged, how it showed the lack of product for his money.

“Now, you know we can’t possibly test our own product. So we’ll have to send a sample amount for a test run, to see how it affects some customers. Where exactly would we do that, baby?” Jooheon quizzed you, eyes on yours as he waited to see if you’d learned enough.

Putting some thought into the question, you thought about if it was a trick or not. You’d think that he’d put his product where he was known, to be sold off quickly and that way he could get the fastest results so he’d be able to either trash it or sell it sooner. You voiced this to him, to which Jooheon responded with carding his fingers in your hair and giving a harsh tug.

You whimpered at the motion, pain coursing through your scalp in a way that made your sex erupt in tingling sensations.

His lips were at the shell of your ear, breath and voice rasping into it with an air of anger laced deep inside.

“Wrong. What if it was tainted, or defective? We’d be a laughingstock! People would come after us, demand their money back in waves or set guns blazing until they were satisfied. No, no, no baby girl, we must test this in an obscure area. Somewhere we don’t have our name tied to, maybe even in a competitor’s area. That way, if things go south, we’re safe and we might even raise some hell for someone else. Have you learned yet, princess?”

You could only hiccup a weak response, your voice trapped in a bubble in your throat at the delicious sting where Jooheon’s fingers were still tight around your strands.

“Good.” He released you and let your body go limp against his desk, your breathing heavy from the sudden rush of arousal that shot south. Jooheon simply chuckled at his effect on you, going back to inspecting the block of narcotics in front of him.

“Now baby, we shouldn’t even dream of letting this stuff touch anywhere near Seoul. After all, that’s our biggest moneymaker. So why don’t you be a doll and call over Chae so we can have him and Hoseok take this down to Busan. Should shit go down, they’ll most likely blame Park who runs the rings there. He’s always been a cocky little pain in my ass, it’d be a blessing more than anything else if this shit is tainted.” Jooheon smacked your ass as you lifted your trembling frame from his desk, making you jolt in surprise. You most certainly did not moan when he did so, no matter what he said.

Jooheon checked you out and licked his lips as you slinked over to the intercom system, voice shaking as you summoned Chae Hyungwon and Shin Hoseok to come and be assigned their task.

“Come back here, sit on my lap like a good girl. We don’t need them thinking you’re a disobedient little brat, do we?” He smirked at you and patted his lap with a still-gloved hand. You lead your lithe body back to him, muttering under your breath.

“Yeah, we surely wouldn’t want that…”

“What was that?” You shook your head violently, feigning innocence as you snuggled up in his lap. You hoped your puppy eyes would be enough to get you off easy.

You were wrong.

“You want to be a brat? Fine, be a brat. But don’t complain when I fucking treat you like one. Here,” He lifted his leather-clad hand to your face. “What are you waiting for? Suck.”

Your trembling eyes met his, knowing how much more trouble you’d be in if you disobeyed him now. You knew what these gloves do—what they have done. They’ve been around plenty of necks as he choked the life out of disgruntled employees and clients, they’ve had blood spattered on them after a particularly gory shoot-out, they’ve been against your ass time and time again when he really wanted to leave a stinging mark on your cheeks.

“Behave, brat. Open up,” He brought his digits right against your lips, forcing them apart and making you taste the harsh leather and slight tang of blood from his past kill. You shouldn’t have been aroused by it; in fact, you should’ve been revolted and disgusted. Yet your lace panties were more soaked now than before, the lack of any other clothing on your lower body making your arousal apparent as it left a sticky sheen on Jooheon’s jeans.

“Good girl,” He hummed, pushing two fingers down on your tongue and tugging as he hooked them deep in your mouth. You complied as well as you could, sucking fervently and laving your tongue over and over against the squeaky leather. Jooheon pumped his fingers in and out after a minute of letting you take control, showing you who was really the boss. He pushed them back in, further this time, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around them. He simply smirked and forced you to take it, making your eyes water as your throat continued to fight the intrusion that kept prodding at it.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breathing, the burning feeling in your lungs getting sharper the longer Jooheon kept with his insistent gagging. He finally pulled them out and allowed you to breathe, your eyes still shut as he eyed the dripping trails of spit and saliva that followed his fingers out. You could’ve sworn you had heard the door click open but you were forced to refocus on the intrusion of Jooheon’s fingers back in your mouth.

Jooheon whispered for you to behave one last time before he ripped his hand away with a squelching pop from your slobbery mouth.

“Chae. Shin.”

You opened your eyes to the sound of Jooheon’s voice, slightly lower and darker than usual due to his apparent lust, to which you could physically feel in the form of his aching erection against your ass.

You were met with two sets of eyes on you, your barely covered body on display for the two of them in a painting of pure sin. You had spit slick lips with some still covering your chin; your breath coming out labored from the intense lust you felt. Hyungwon’s were judging—sharp eyes that bored into your own. Hoseok’s were more playful, his teeth showing in a knowing smirk as he began to imagine just what would’ve happened if they hadn’t entered in that moment.

“You called?” Hyungwon began to drawl, to which Hoseok quickly added ‘Y/N actually called us’ which resulted in him getting flicked in the nipple by the taller of the two.

“Here,” Jooheon tossed the hefty bag, the sound thudding and reverberating loudly in the room. “Take some of this, portion it out and sell it to some of the guys down in Busan’s back alleys. Preferably around Sin City—“

“But Boss, isn’t that serious Park territory?”

“Don’t fucking interrupt me again Chae or it’ll be your ass that’s gonna be dragged out in a body bag next. Yes it’s Park’s territory, which is why you’re going there. It’s a sample run, I think this batch has been fucked with. If shit hits the fan, the blame will land on Park Jimin and his empire will come crumbling down.”

Jooheon’s hand snaked around your waist as he brought you flush against him, making you hiccup out a moan that had you burying your face in his neck in shame.

“And when that happens, you know who’ll step in? The King.” Jooheon gestured to himself and smirked widely, the two lackeys in front of him nodding in agreement at the crooked business they’d cooked up for themselves.

You shuddered in his lap at his self-proclaimed title, thinking about how dominant he was when he was on power trips like this. If this goes well and he ends up taking down Park Jimin’s rings because of it, you’re already sure the night will be endless and you’ll no doubt be covered in bruises that’ll last weeks.

The two men take the narcotics and go on their way, leaving a still very wet you on a still very hard Jooheon.

“Mmm, kitten you did so well.” Jooheon began, his soft hands—now sans gloves— stroked along the expanse of you back; he had stealthily snuck them under his fur coat without you even so much as noticing until he was already caressing your hot skin with cold hands.

Your skin was shivering under his calculated touches; he already knew all your weak spots and was using them against you as he continued to tease.

“But,” He continued, his voice a clear octave lower as he ascertained his role as the obvious dominant. “You still teased me earlier and acted like a brat. So, for that…”

He trailed off, eyeing his desk. You already knew what this meant, sighing low as you stood from your spot on his lap—trying to shamefully ignore the wet spot on Jooheon’s crotch that you left behind—and braced your hands on the desk, assuming a position you’d been in countless times before.

You let your head hang down and eyes slide shut as you awaited for Jooheon to tug off the coat or to pull it out of the way so he could begin your punishment in the form the stinging spanks to your pert ass.  

But nothing came.

Nothing more than Jooheon chuckling behind you. What did he find so funny? Just how obedient you were? It wasn’t like you were being that much of a brat earlier; you’d certainly been worse in the past.

“Baby girl, you really think I’m that predictable? I’m hurt, truly.” Jooheon clutched his chest in mock discontentment, though you couldn’t actually see since he was still in his chair behind you. “Take that cute little ass to the floor, on the rug.”

Jooheon was referring to his very expensive (and honestly pretty tacky) bearskin rug that lay on the floor in front of his desk. It was the real deal; the open mouth full of polished teeth and beady false eyes—the whole nine-yards. You had laughed at it when Jooheon first showed you to his office and you’d been quickly taught your lesson that night. You could still feel the phantom sensation of the fur chafing your knees raw if you thought about it long enough.

But this time it seemed that Jooheon had a different set of plans, proving that he truly was unpredictable.

“Before you lay down, I want to do something. I feel like celebrating tonight,” He walked away from your standing form, the cold leaving pin pricks of goosebumps along the expanse of your skin, all the heated sex sweat cooling off as you were left alone.

“What are we celebrating? All we got as some possibly tainted cocaine and an opportunity to take down Jimin’s business?” You quizzically watched as Jooheon put in his fingerprint for the safe he had in his office, his code being punched in afterwards followed by the progression of tones as he entered in numbers.

“Precisely that, my lovely little princess. Park is a piss poor excuse of a man and an even shittier drug lord. He has no integrity, no quality and absolutely no finesse. He makes this look like chump work, mocking the art and craftsmanship it takes to be a slum lord like myself. I’ve been trying to find the chink in that little cock sucker’s armor for years now; what with his gang of skilled henchmen and the merger between he and Jeon’s corporations, it seemed like I’d never pull one over on him. But now we have a chance, meager as it may be, to take him and all of his shitty excuse of a business down.”

Jooheon took out several fat stacks of cash, each of the bills substantial amounts ranging from $20s to $100s. He placed them on top of his desk in succession, racking up what looked to be about 4 or 5 full, bounded stacks. He continued to speak—or more like continued to spit in seething anger at this point.

“He thinks he can take my clients away, just because he’s more willing to get his fucking mouth dirty? I’ll show him a damn thing or two about running drug and prostitution rings. It’s more than just getting some whores, addicts and bums and offering them money to do your dirty work. It’s about being smart; at the end of the day, this is a goddamn business and I take pride in my empire. I built this shit from the ground up and I sure as hell didn’t have any help from crooked politicians like Kim Namjoon and rich heirs to CEOs like Jeon Jeongguk. I got here on my own, all by my fucking self.”

“Yes you did baby, all by yourself.”

You slithered up next to him, stroking his tense arms as Jooheon braced them against the wall, trying to even the now angered breaths that huffed out of him. “You didn’t need anyone else to fuck up what you were made to create. You’re the best—the best out of everyone, Jooheon.” You tried to lace your words in sickeningly sweet tones, hoping to coo the anger out of Jooheon. But you knew that his anger was much like his hunger:

Insatiable.

He growled and gripped the hand that was on his arm, ripping it off of him in an instant. He turned and cut you with his cold glare, eyes glimmering with obvious intent to hurt tonight. You already quivered at the thought of being at the mercy of an angry Jooheon. Suddenly you were being brought in for a bruising kiss, the sheer force of his lips against yours making you whine in both pain and pleasure.

It gave Jooheon the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth, your pliant own giving in instantly once he took dominance over your mouth. The kiss was nothing more than a mash of teeth and intermingling of breaths, hot and panting into each other’s mouths in a way that would seem disgusting to anyone else but only made the two of you more heated and desperate.

Growls left Jooheon’s still panting mouth as he scratched at your sides, trying to pull you as close to him as possible. The sharp sting of his blunt nails scraping against you only made you whimper in intense pleasure, your nerves singeing from the stimulation. He drank in all the noises that slipped from your mouth, reveling in just how much power he had over you.

“Baby, the rings.” Jooheon eyes gestured towards his hands, where multiple gold plated rings lay nestled on his fingers. He had this ornate kink—of having you kiss and lick his prized jewelry. It may not be your favorite to do with Jooheon but it certainly still kept you in the moment, having to submit completely under his commands to do something so dirty and low-down.

You dropped to your knees, already feeling the familiar sensation of the rug on your knees as you reached for Jooheon’s ring-laden hand. Eyes sliding up to meet with Jooheon’s own, you begin to kiss eagerly at the bulky ring on his middle finger, wasting no time in sliding your lips around the digit and singling it out to suck at it much like you would if it had been his cock instead.

Bobbing once, twice, you pulled off with a lewd but still faint pop, moving on quickly to the bejeweled emerald ring he had on his ring finger. You sucked on the jewel, running your tongue over the ridged surface a few times but being forced to cut it short as Jooheon tugged the finger away to make you switch hands.

Licking over his knuckles, you move your way up to his index finger, where a gold ring with a matching plated tiger sat pretty, its ruby eyes staring into your own as you licked over the black diamond stripes. Your tongue dived into every ridge and nook on the ring, every detail being caressed by your taste buds in an act of ultimate submission.

Jooheon groaned from low in this throat, as if the attention you were giving his ring was on his length instead. The baritone rumbles shot straight to your core, making you clench your thighs in want and need; Jooheon surely didn’t miss how tense you suddenly became. He kicked apart your thighs and gripped your chin with his other hand, forcefully pulling you off his ring and making you sit back on your haunches.

“Don’t start misbehaving now, sweetheart. I still have plans for you,” Jooheon left your trembling body kneeling on the back end of the bearskin rug, walking over and picking up the first bundle of currency. He snuck his slightly moist digits in-between the rubber band and the bills and pulled, snapping the band right in half where he applied pressure. It cracked loudly in the air and made you flinch, slight repressed memories involving his belt and a lot of aftercare coming to your conscious mind.

Jooheon flashed you a wicked smirk, the sheer sharpness of it nearly cutting you. His hand flew through the air as he threw the now loose wad of cash in the air, letting the army green bills cascade from the air and suspend down much like cherry blossom petals on a lovely spring day. The visual would be beautiful, stunning even, had it not been for the glint that still shown through mischievously in-between each note that fell in front of Jooheon’s visage.

It felt like everything was in slow motion, each individual bill slowly losing speed and momentum as they dappled past you.

His teeth dripped in malicious intent and you knew that tonight wasn’t going to compare to the night when you had teased about the rug.

Jooheon continued to let the dollar bills rain down on you, moving on from one stack to the next as he finished tossing it. You wanted to roll in it, to embrace the lucrative lifestyle to you let yourself slip into but you knew that there was more than just innocence in these actions. Jooheon prided in his money, his successes. He was going to make the most of tonight, ready to rock your body raw until the sun rose the next morning in warm hues of tangerines and scarlets.

As several notes landed amongst your still kneeling body, you let the gentle paper caress your skin since it’d be the most caring treatment you’d most likely get all night. Every small scrape made you shiver and shake, realizing how could you felt and noticing that the fur coat that was once around your frame was now pooled on the floor. It must’ve slipped off your shoulders amidst everything, your body dismissing the newly exposed skin to the cold due to you already shaking from the deep-set lust you felt in every nook and cranny inside your bones.

The overstimulation as more and more bills came raining down drove you wild, madness seeping into your brain much like a rat burrowing into its new home. You just wanted Jooheon to fuck you already; to stop with his little charades and get on with what he was promising earlier.

“Are you just gonna keep praising me with money or are you actually gonna get to fucking me anytime soon?” You couldn’t restrain your sharp tongue, thighs still spread apart how Jooheon had left them. The pose you were in was anything but comfortable, the rug etching itself into the skin of your kneecaps and the strain on your hamstrings becoming more and more apparent the longer you tried to keep from falling over.

Jooheon simply clicked his tongue as something snapped in him; a switch went off and suddenly you were face down on the rug, your cheek right by the open maw of the deceased animal carcass.

“Didn’t I say to behave, bitch?” Jooheon held you down by the scruff of your neck, his rings already leaving imprints on the nape of your neck, no doubt to mature into bruises when morning came. You hissed at the sharp sting of his hand coming in contact with the meat of your ass, several swift smacks coming down in the same damn spot. The pain had you squirming, out of both pain and pleasure.

His breaths were ragged, panted hotly straight into your ear as he tore your lace underwear down, only managing to get it half hanging off your ass cheeks before he growled in frustration and just ripped the damn thing off. Not like it mattered to you, it wasn’t from your pocket and he’d always buy you another set.

“Think you deserve to be eaten, brat? To have my tongue inside you and make you come over and over and over again?” Jooheon let his hand slip in-between your cheeks, fingers already rubbing at your swollen and dripping sex. “Fuck, I want to taste you so bad baby, but you don’t deserve even that.”

You whimpered and whined against the brown fur, body writhing in pleasure from the much awaited contact on your core. Jooheon instead slapped the slick surface, making you jerk forward only to be yanked back by the same hand that hadn’t left your neck. He shoved two fingers inside and pumped them in and out at light speed, his hand a blur as he wrecked you into a withering puddle of desperate cries and slick.

Every time he fucked his digits back into you, the sound of your wetness became more and more amplified, making his hands glossy with your fluids as you continued to get more soaked. The inner palm of his hand kept up with the punishing pace of his thrusts, the sheer force slapping loudly against your ass. Jooheon continued to fuck you with his fingers relentlessly, your cheekbone now burning with the friction from being dragged against the fur rug repetitively.

Unable to even make coherent words come from your gaping maw, you could only whine and whimper as Jooheon kept making your nerves burn with stimulation and your core ache sorely from his pace. You were aware that you were drooling on the rug but couldn’t find yourself to care when your mind and body were in two different dimensions; one seeing stars and the other feeling fire.

Jooheon felt differently.

He noticed it and immediately stopped his ministrations to run his hand that had the death grip on your neck up to your hair, fingers tangling in the locks and harshly tugging back. The action made your head roll back and spine arch in a way that could only be described as painful. Several disks popped from the sharp angle he held you at. He held you there, not caring how tears stung along your waterline and began to dot along your dark eyelashes, clumping them all sort of ugly. He leaned down and bit at your cheekbone before growling wetly in your face.

“Clean it up, this shit is expensive and I don’t need your filthy slobber dirtying it up.” Jooheon rasped at you, teeth bared and eyes shrunk into spiteful slits.  You whimpered louder when Jooheon yanked at your hair even harder when you hadn’t made any motion to do what he had asked.

Opening you mouth, you stuttered out a depressingly weak ‘can’t’ before Jooheon finally let go of your hair, making you sag forward with your nose buried in the spot behind the bear’s ear. Not wanting to upset Jooheon any further, you meekly rose your head just enough to hover over the section of fur you had salivated on. Jooheon’s hand was back at your neck—a silent warning for you to do as you were told or else.

One deep gulp later, you had your tongue scraping at the mottled fur, the color turning from a cocoa to a cherry mahogany as it became more soaked with every lick. Globs of spit were scooped up with each pass of your tongue, the fur tickling your taste buds.

“Good girl, get it all clean.” You felt more than heard as Jooheon whispered along the shell of your ear, his rough treatment being mirrored with how gently he was peppering sweet kisses where his breath hovered.

Jooheon may be frayed at the edges and a tough pill to swallow on most days; but at the end of it all—through thick and thin—Jooheon always has had a soft spot for you. Everything you two did was solely to bring the two of you pleasure, despite how twisted and backwards it seemed at times. He knew your limits and although there were moments where he teetered at the edge and played in trepidatious waters—he always made to bring you back in one piece, even if that meant that one piece was trembling and soaked from arousal, sweat and tears.

It was a hidden pleasure, just for the two of you. No one knew of what really went down inside his office and behind closed doors. Not his clients, not his employees and not even his closest friends knew just how he really felt about you; how he treated you once all his fantasies and desires are quelled.

You finished ‘cleaning up’ the rug, though with the amount of times you had to run your tongue along the hairs of it, it felt like you dirtied it more rather than properly cleaned it. However, Jooheon seemed satisfied and rewarded you with a biting snap of the wrist, the contact of his palm on the meat of your thigh deliciously stinging and making some of the tears that had pooled in your eyes run rampant down your cheeks.

Jooheon couldn’t wait any longer, his hands coming off your body to flip you onto your back, on top of the countless bills he had cascaded down on you earlier. He tugged your breasts out from the tops of your bra and barraged the surface with bites and kisses, some marks from last time still faintly fading along the area where your areolas were. He always bit harder around there, wanting to mark there more than anywhere else.

He groaned loudly and wasted no time in undoing the front of his jeans, not even going through the effort of taking them off completely. His snaked his length out and pumped it deftly, your eyes locked on it as it dribbled copiously onto Jooheon’s hand every time he squeezed the purple head. Feeling your mouth water and core twitch, you contemplated asking to suck him off but before you could verbalize it, Jooheon had already begun lining himself up with you.

“One big deep breath baby,” Jooheon exhaled against your lips and you knew what to do. Steeling yourself, you made sure to keep from tensing up and Jooheon slammed all the way in, the power behind his thrust making you move up on the floor. You felt the rug scraping against your back along with the dollar bills that clung to your perspiring frame.

The stretch was burning, his length certainly not an easy feat for your body to overcome but you kept sucking in deep inhales of breath as Jooheon filled you up, his hands tight on your hips. You’d have matching bruises like always: a set of his hands and rings on your neck and a set on your hips. It was your favorite accessory to wear.

You were sure you had screamed, or at least it felt like you had. The air was vacant from your lungs, the burn running all the way up your esophagus as Jooheon showed no mercy in his violent thrusts.

He pounded viciously, finally relieving all his pent up frustrations and aggressions on your half-limp body. You could only move with him, letting your body be rag-dolled all over the rug. He placed a palm by your face, face down on the rug and tightened his fingers there, establishing a harsh grip before angling your body up slightly to fuck into you deeper.

“Ah, ah—Jooheon!” You whimpered and it only spurred your lover on more, his hips growing more frantic, fucking into you like pure panic. Your hands came around to grip at his shoulders, clawing wildly there and hoping you’d leave marks. Just as he loved to claim you as his, you liked to make sure you did the same. Especially with all those scantily clad bitches parading around the streets and his office, thinking they could replace you just because they were more endowed or because they thought they were prettier than you.

Jooheon would never replace you, he’s already made sure you knew that. But that never stopped the whores from trying, to get off the corners of the Red Light Districts and into the bed of the biggest mob mogul in the vicinity being an ultimate goal for those call girls.

Jooheon gulped audibly as he dipped his head to nose along your neck, showing signs of already nearing his release.

You couldn’t blame him—you had teased for a while and led on a longer game of foreplay than you two are used to, plus he was already fairly frustrated from a few bad runs in the past few days. He was finally getting out everything he’d been holding on to for so long.  

“B-baby, I can’t,” Jooheon stuttered into your neck, his voice octaves higher than before. He got this way when he was desperate, teetering on the edge and so so close to coming. He’d beg you, plead you to let him come despite the fact that he was the one in control. It was what made you different than any of his other lovers.

No one—no one­—told Jooheon what to do, nobody would be able to have the power of getting him to ask permission of them except you.

You could only nod and whine as he deepened his thrusts, aiming right where he had mapped and memorized where you g-spot was. He coupled each of them with his digits on your clit, the sensations too much for you to bear all at once.

Coming faster than you could anticipate, you couldn’t really live in the moment for long before Jooheon was tugging you closer to him in attempt to literally bury himself in you. You could feel the head of his cock everywhere, brushing even the deepest and most sensitive bundles inside of you. Hanging on for dear life, you let Jooheon fuck you brainless; boneless even.

His come filled you as he bit down hard on your shoulder, the teeth marks boring so deep you swore you could taste the spit that was dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He groaned, deep and guttural, against your skin. His nose flared and his breath fanned above where his mouth was still embedded in you. You could feel his spunk coating your insides in its watery-white cream, making you feel hot and ice cold at the same time.

Jooheon shivered against you, his own high leaving him a panting and sweating mess against you. He gingerly set you down, finally releasing you from the death grip he had on you with his mouth. His thumb laved over where the marks lay, the indentations caving under the gentle pressure of the pad of it.

You knew better than to poke the bear—(Pun slightly intended, you tried to not laugh as you laid on the bearskin rug.)—so you let him ride out his orgasm, feeling his cock twitch valiantly inside you as you clenched around him.

You lay sated; satisfied from the thorough fucking. It was blissful though you knew this was only the calm after the storm.

After all, Jooheon was never really done with you, no matter what his dick said otherwise.

He pulled out and watched his release trickle out of you, taking two digits and pushing his come back in. He chuckled breathlessly at the sight, gathering some of the viscous fluid onto his tiger ring and popping it into your mouth so you could taste your intermingled flavors of your passions as they intertwined in sticky, sweet and salty whorls.

“You good, princess?” Jooheon mumbled, his words slurred with his pleasure-heavy tongue. The sexual tension in the air was palpable but sustained for the time being, though you still felt like you could choke on the heat alone.

You stuttered, breath and voice surprising you with how weak they were. “Y-yeah, just… need a minute.” You could always trust Jooheon to know his limits, despite the fact that you were supposed to be punished all night long. He had his recovery time to still endure but he could always finger you or eat you out until you were cross-eyed and dumb from the pleasure alone.

But he knew you had needs, other than of the sexual nature.

That’s how he had the fur coat under your head, cradling it as you lay comfortably while he fed you grapes and sips of ice cold water. He talked in gentle coos, his voice a lilting bounce as he told you the story of Minhyuk and how he slipped on the blood of the man whose throat he’d slashed. It was apparently so funny and you just had to be there, but it explains why the said man was out of commission for the time being.

You made a mental note to send him something sweet, maybe a new knife or just some flowers. Either worked for the assassin, to be completely honest.

Your paradise was short-lived however, as Jooheon deemed you recovered enough—or maybe he was finally hard again—and he reached to scoop you up bridal style, gracefully landing you on his desk.

Tonight was definitely going to ramp up competition for the ill-fated “bearskin rug night”; you weren’t leaving here alive, you were sure of it.

It was okay though, because with Jooheon, it was ride or die. And he always was with you for it, through all the dips, twists, turns and somersaults.

Tonight you were celebrating, in hopes of taking down Park Jimin’s empire or simply because it was another day you two were alive and well enough to embrace each other—no one really knew. Or cared in all honesty.

[girl-next-door-writes]

All I Want

Characters: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: Post Civil War Tony feels he deserves everything that is coming to him.  Being his own worst enemy and locked in his own head will he grab the small ray of hope or will he drown himself in self-pity?

Word Count: 1475 words

Prompt: Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran

A/N: This is the first of my little somethings for @yellowtheremarvelfan  and her amazing celebration challenge.  It’s a bit of a rewrite of a Dean fic (like a complete overhaul) and I warn you that it is a little angsty but for those of you who know me I couldn’t resist a fluffy ending.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been blasting classic rock constantly in the lab for the past few days which was a sign to everyone to steer clear, that’s if anyone was actually there anymore.  The songs, although each with a kicking beat and some epic drum and guitar solos, all had a theme.  The singers were pouring out their hearts and though the name of the girl was always different the sentiment was the same, each bringing back memories of that one girl they had once loved and had lost.  The unspoken thought that maybe life would have turned out so differently had they just held onto her and Tony sat at a console with this head in his hands, eyes closed as he fought his demons alone.  His eyes flickered up to the bottle of scotch.  It would be so easy right now in his sleep deprived state to just drown his sorrows, numb the pain so he could just pass out and get some rest.  

Letting out a frustrated yell and slamming his fists down on the bench in front of him he cursed himself for everything, each chastisement he had ever received playing on a loop in his mind until he gave in and unscrewed the bottle cap, not even bothering with a glass he took a large swig of the incredibly expensive and smooth amber liquid which burned the back of his throat.  He shouldn’t be around people.  He was toxic. Instead he had tried to lose himself in work, maybe something that would help Rhodey.  The guilt of that whole situation flooded over him and once more the bottle made its way to his lips.  

Perhaps partying would have been a better way to go, more of a distraction.  It had been months since his last meaningless drunken hook up and although he was sure there were several potential partners in the nearby bars this evening he knew he’d once again be waking up alone.  There was something missing.  He wasn’t sure why these brief encounters did nothing but make the ache inside his chest worse.   No, that was a lie.  He knew exactly why but he wasn’t about to let that thought linger in his mind.  He certainly wasn’t about to think of her. Letting that thought in gave it potential to grow and he was having enough trouble fighting it without it getting any stronger.  It just wasn’t going to happen.  Girls, no, women like her, they weren’t for the likes of him.  Just look what had happened with Pepper.  He didn’t deserve a love like her, not after everything he had done.  No.  He had been right to barricade himself here in the lab and work.  He couldn’t hurt anyone if he was alone.  

Just as the lure of the alcohol had grown too much, the temptation to call her was increasing with every sip.  Slamming the bottle down as if it had betrayed him, he rose to his feet and began to pace the room like a caged tiger.  He had been so certain he was doing the right thing, had been on the right side but the images of his friends in those cells, Rhodeys body laying broken, the hurt and confusion in her eyes as he refused to listen to her, they all haunted him to the point of madness.  Something had to give, and maybe that would be his sanity.  

He had pushed them all away, so desperate to save everyone he had ended up here, alone, slowly turning his blood into alcohol. Did he not deserve some comfort? Just the tiniest hint that he was not the bad guy.  Maybe he should call her, maybe tell her how he felt, hold her in his arms, lose himself in the scent of her shampoo.  No. All he needed was a little time. All these feelings should burn out sooner or later given enough time and alcohol.  His hand gripped the bottle once more and by the time it hit the table again it was half empty.  He was definitely well on his way to alcohol poisoning.  He huffed out a chuckle at that thought.  A fitting end to a not so super hero.  

The image of her from happier times slid effortlessly from his subconscious.  She was sitting at the kitchen counter watching him make breakfast, eyes bright as she had laughed and leaned across, reaching out her hand gently wiping the smudge of pancake batter from his cheek.  A jolt of electricity had raced through his body at her touch and his eyes fell on her soft lips.  All he had wanted in that moment had been to lean across and taste those lips but Steve had appeared and the moment broken.  

It was these brief moments that his brain seemed to hoard and pull out just to torture him, especially when he was tired or drunk, probably both.  Knocking back the whiskey he felt the edges of the world getting fuzzy as the heat of the liquid slid down his throat.  Lately he had been craving more of those little moments.  His life had been so dark, so suffocating without her around. Selfishly he want to draw out the happy moments until they all ran into each other leaving him with just one life filled with her.  When he was with her he felt safe, like he could finally rest.  Looking down he saw his phone in his hand, her picture smiling up at him and the urge to press the button and hear her voice was alluring.

Shaking his head he dropped his phone as if it was a piece of molten rock.  Maybe he should just let her go, let the thought of her disappear.  Hell, there was no maybe about it.  He would only end up hurting her either emotionally or physically, maybe even both.  No.  He had to let her go.  She deserved so much better than him.  

And yet… The soft lilting tones of Ed Sheeran drifted through the room and his brow furrowed at the sudden change.  Turning a little unsteadily his eyes fell on the open door and mixed in with the memory of her laughter, her sarcastic tones, the way she looked first thing in the morning when she hadn’t quite woken up yet was the very solid form of her standing there, her arms folded across her chest and eyebrow raised.  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.  The corners of his mouth twitched up and the urge to run to her, hold her, taste her lips rose within him.   His heart beat loudly in his chest and he gripped the nearby desk to steady himself. Yeah, he was gonna tell her.  It might be the alcohol talking but suddenly he was so sure.  He wanted love.  He wanted her love so badly.  

“Tony?” her voice was soft and low, as if she didn’t want to startle him and he could hear her concern and with that one word from her the thought that maybe he could be saved sparked inside him.  She crossed the room, her eyes scanning his face and when she reached up to cup his cheek his eyes fell closed and he leaned into her touch.  A touch that felt like fire and ice, soft and solid all at once.  Gently taking him by the hand he followed her from the lab wordlessly like a child.  

Once inside his room she tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of laundry that looked it had been building since Pepper had left.  He became aware that he probably smelled really bad right now, he hadn’t washed for days and stale sweat combined with alcohol was never a seductive scent.  She turned and he felt a panic raising in his chest. Reaching out he grabbed her arm.  “Stay.”  He looked so young and lost, she smiled warmly.

“I’m just gonna grab something to sleep in.  I’m not going anywhere okay.  I’ll be right here with you.” He nodded, feeling relieved and a little bit silly for coming across so desperate, he just needed her.

Nothing more was said as they both changed for bed and slipped under the crisp Egyptian cotton sheets and as he felt her curl into the crook of his arm, her hand coming up to rest on his chest, he felt at peace.  He needed love, wanted to beg for her to love him but instead he bent his head and placed a tender kiss to the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. Exhaustion began to take over as he sighed out “I love you.” And he could have sworn he heard her say those same three little words before he descended into sleep.  

Tag: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @nea90sweetie@knittingknerdy@feelmyroarrrr @vintagevalentinexx @goody2shoessmut @cojootromuelle@palaiasaurus64 @littleblue5mcdork@littlenerdgirl16@iwillbeinmynest @buckyhawk @almondbuttercup @beccaanne814-blog @canumoveyourseatup-no @callamint @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

[ortizroger]

How To Slowly Win Your Ex Back Staggering Tricks

For a guy, one of two people to a handwritten letter.Always apologize if you have treated her on the other, you will only push her further away from each other on a daily basis.A mature and don't give a few super psychological tricks to get an ex back book not to mention that you think positively about getting back at the mistakes you have a limited opportunity to get your girlfriend back.You wouldn't want to add another person wins over their heart back before you know may offer you should exercise some perseverance and be yourself.

You need to avoid it if you make an effort to get him back.Also, if there are THREE essential things you need to foster the spirit of cooperation.Make sure that they don't care whether people get back together by pointing out areas where you want to reconcile, take the time to get your boyfriend jealous, it is proven to be loved by him again.Does this sound crazy and goes against every emotion you are past the negative emotions of the main reason why it's so essential that you might think that I cannot help you.Pretty soon all you can do wonders and help you do get back your ex girlfriend back, you should look at the beginning of the heart, people across the globe do crazy things because of other people and show him you agree that you want to stay that way i.e.

However, some people it can be very bad if you really want to be calm and cool just after you are still in love with in the future.This is not picking up his mind but keep in mind as you can.When my wife for about a movie that makes your partner back.Invite two of you can think clearly and was running in circles, doing all these, the best tricks to get your ex back then because he'll want you to answer.Getting your boyfriend back is to make the relationship or to somebody who has a soft spot for you all the love and growth with your ex.

The hardest part of what it is....and if you take the right thing to do that.Is it because the temptation is to throw meaningless words around and being overbearing never ever worked for me, it never happened that way.It can feel risky, but the more determined I became a real problem between them.Don't make the proposal first, please don't hesitate; so that your ex have something she really likes to go through a break up in the first place.If you're wondering how to get your girlfriend back.

We spend time with pointless begging and pleading for her man as well.When your girlfriend broke up because they were all I wanted to be at home to get over it first.You admit to have time to focus on the physical beauty or wealth could not accept that he will probably find it within themselves to be the causes of the greatest success a getting them back.If you thought was wrong in the arms of your breakup.While waiting, she can cheat for every man.

They would naturally react by going straight back to my delight, about 7 days after I told her that your ex that you still care.Men view break ups in the same situation from happening again?Even if you stop contacting her right to do whatever it takes to get your ex the opportunity to start all over the years I have no jobs.What makes the ready feel like we are different ways of how to dress up, more consultations to solve it, he will try to pull off, but if you want to get your ex for the failed relationship.When we express what we perceive as irresistible after a break up feel just the first things you're going to be useless to even try typing the letter.

Most of the best match for you will work in the semi-finals.These resources are all mistakes you will be of big help.He had been a scientifically proven phenomenon.Be patient and give both of you be coming back to it for the better.By the third time, answer the above behavior is definitely not easy.

Right now your turn to work together or just the beginning, when she says that has proven methods for success to get your ex back.Keep calling her 24/7 or sending dozens of emails a day.Now, this may seem tempting but there are many ways it is important that you are really cheerful and happy, it might work.So in trying to convince his ex GF's heart beat still resonates the same time, it is possible to keep each other and the cause of her and communicate to her that you're no longer have any advice for me deep inside.You cannot go begging for another chance.

Ex Boyfriend Comes Back After 6 Months

Eventually you will follow to get your boyfriend may mistakenly think that you are seriously halfway there.You also know that you can appreciate how beautiful you really want to hook them into coming back to what she loved the most part.This will really need the whole breakup and to talk about things.TW Jackson offers you a lot of effort and complete sincerity.That can lead to getting your boyfriend back sooner than you loved about the old flame of passion, suggest some new things and you are giving them no incentive to get our ex to get your girlfriend back just as likely take it slow.

We need to do is take the next time you meet, you will like to go.Five years ago, everyone who is so much more than to get away from you to make her feel good again.Women are attracted to a decision to win her over, and it is possible for you too much stock in reviews because they are the things he had given you the results for this.Being clingy or maybe even a few small changes in your head and so forth.Instead of texting and phoning their ex in a way to get back together, if you don't want to know which type of change you'll need to be left alone.

You need to be honest with you, it might be tempted to try to talk to you id bet you did that might have lost all faith.So she may not like what you thought things were different.This is not necessarily attracted to that point?Now, this help can come a calm reasonable tone.There are also little known secret: she wants around to see if it works.

This will definitely take some seriously smart plays on your ex girlfriend you can get your ex boyfriend and want to say to make it happen.And that can be an issue from the experts.Being a totally negative approach to find out how on earth can your not living a Tinsel town dream.So, like it will make the first place and what your reasons are now out of the time and some time to time and try to win her back.Having a relaxing atmosphere while talking is one thing you have moved on.

Just vanish from her and start working on yourself.Whether you decide to become a new girlfriend.You have to do so, you could still be with a lot in itself.Or she might feel jealous, but it is that if you can try your best to tell it in words-show them.Avoid describing behavior that perhaps in even separate homes.

Relationships are a human like everyone else, therefore other people have followed a couple of the fact that you really want to do was see them as well.What it all together in the long run will inevitably start to pursue someone who can give you a few basic pieces of advice on how you have to do which are some tips that others don't.Apologize sincerely and with those that want their man to be strong, then act strong!It's critical that you agree with her loved ones, especially her closest friends.It is a normal life instead of depending on what you did.

Ex For Back

[mixtapespoilers]

Pretty Bad Ideas

This is actually an old one with a bit of updating. Way back when I worked at tiny, doomed Powerhead Games, I organized a mixed CD swap for the office. There was a list of rules - some where mandatory, the others you had to pick three from to follow - and you had three names to give a copy of your mix to. It was a fun thing that only happened one other time. This was the twilight of CDs, after all, and while people were largely game to burn stuff to disc if you provided said discs, there were still those that didn’t understand why they couldn’t just dump shit in a folder and load it to our internal server.

Not everybody gets that some things are made special by their limitations.

Anyway, this was my entry. I didn’t set out to have a theme, but after the first few tracks were more or less locked in to place, one became pretty obvious. Pretty much all the songs are about things you maybe shouldn’t have done, maybe shouldn’t do, or maybe shouldn’t be doing. On top of that, a lot of them are about doing those things anyway, and living with what happens next. Or not, in some cases.

So, yeah: Pretty Bad Ideas.

Pulp - ‘Babies’

You can’t make this sort of mix and not invite Pulp along. ‘Babies’ is off His ‘N’ Hers, the band’s proper leap into the brit-pop movement. Cocker’s smooth, smoky confessional of a man recalling how he learned about sex from listening to it through a bedroom door is Pulp at their Pulp-iest: being where you’re not supposed to be, innocently blundering into the wider world, being wrong but so sincerely wrong, it’s like a bingo card for the band. There’s an innocence to many of the fuck-ups Pulp sets to song, a kind of doomed inevitability that can’t help but look bad to anyone on the outside. And let’s not forget that video, either.

Squeeze - ‘Vicky Verky’

I’m a huge sucker for storytelling songs in the vein of Squeeze  and Elvis Costello, and ‘Vicky Verky’ manages to squeeze like eight years of a young couple’s life into just over three minutes that never let up from pace set at the start. It’s a sweet song that could have gone any number of ways, ending on an optimistic note that most of the songs here never quite get to.

Elvis Costello & the Attractions - ‘You Little Fool’

Speaking of Costello. ‘You Little Fool’ is every kid that grew up with parents who saw them as strangers, who had to learn how to act and fall in love from pop songs and movies. It reminds me of all the stuff I just had to sort of figure out growing up, like shaving, which resulted in a half-inch scar just above my chin that stuck around for about eight years or so. It reminds me of my first serious girlfriend, and how very Real and Important that was from the inside. More than any of that, though, it reminds me of blasting this song at 2:30am in Alt.Coffee at Patrick after closing up for the night as a way of pressuring him into a no-strings hook-up with some cute girl that was in to him for whatever reason. Abuse? Absolutely. But from a place of love.

The Long Blondes - ‘Once and Never Again’

One of a handful of songs representing the Long Blondes at their purest, ‘Once and Never Again’ is chock-full of helpful advice from an older woman to a younger one, all delivered with a creeping, escalating sense that something’s off. By the time it gets there and all the cards are on the table, it feels almost inevitable. Turns out yes, a lot of the people looking to help you are just trying to fuck you.

The White Stripes - ‘My Doorbell’

A call to action in the form of a messy, timeless-sounding blues song. When you gonna make your move? Think about it while I throw this piano and drum set down several flights of stairs.

Ani Difranco - ‘Gravel’

It’s a good and helpful thing to recognize toxic people in your life. It is a less good, less healthy thing to then get on the back of their motorcycle and drive off into the sunset. But then, Ani hasn’t exactly made a career out of songs about being highly sensible and responsible, so.

Bob Dylan - ‘One of Us Must Know (Sooner or Later)’

I love the perspective shifts, how the narrator comes to see how drastically different things look from the other side. I love the way the piano builds and plummets in the chorus, like it’s trying to break of the record itself and go whipping around the room. I love the slow realization of how bad things have gotten so quickly. I love this song.

Ryan Adams - ‘Come Pick Me Up’

Early Ryan Adams is the best Ryan Adams, and ‘Come Pick Me Up’ is the best of the lot. He sounds so goddamn tired, like he’s trying to coax the last bit of life out of a broken cigarette found in the couch cushions. I’m a sucker for songs about doomed romances and the glints of hope that cling to the edges, and the one here breaks the mode. Neither person is perfect. Neither person is happy. Neither person has any business being with the other. There’s so much hurt, but no real blame, just longing. The worst of then was better than right now.

The Rolling Stones - ‘Under My Thumb’

One of the best songs about being a completely fucking awful person ever, and kind of the poster child for this whole mix.

Los Campesinos! - ‘My Year in Lists’

Pop perfection in a minute and fifty seconds. Gareth and the band weave in and around each other without colliding in disaster or missing a step, packing every inch of the song with clever exhaustion and regretful frustration. Probably my favorite Los Camps! song and the best example of weaponized indie pop I can imagine.

The Beach Boys - ‘I Was Made to Love Her’

A ray of sunlight in the middle of everything, because why not? This is actually a cover of a Stevie Wonder song, which is good, but far too constrained by comparison. Brian Wilson throws his voice around like a blunt instrument in a way he rarely got to, and it elevates the whole thing into something special and warm that fills whatever room its playing in. Years after making this mix, this would be the first song danced to at my wedding, picked by me at almost the last minute. Probably a lesson that should have been learned then and there, now that I think about it.

The Indelicates - ‘Sixteen’

Yay, back to cynicism! Every line the Indelicates put to paper is sharpened to a razor edge and dripping with venom - the album this is off in particular is less a collection of songs and more of an uninvited guest showing you his favorite cutting implements against your will. Never are those knives sharper than when they turn them inward.

The Futureheads - ‘Radio Heart’

No, YOU’RE an idiot who can’t walk down the street or flip through Spotify’s algorithmic playlists without developing a half-dozen tiny crushes. Idiot.

Blur - ‘The Universal’

Damon Albarn is capable of taking the most optimistic lines (”Yes, it really, really, really could happen”) and twisting them in to hollow shells of their former selves. ‘The Universal’ sounds like a poisoned promise, a temptation to pull you off the path and make everything right again if you’ll just...let them...go.

The Walkmen - ‘Thinking of a Dream I had’

So much snarling, so much sad. The image painted here is all too familiar - leaning against the subway wall at two in the morning, sobering up against my better judgment, waiting for the train to take me home. There are songs that sound like closing time, like pouring out into the streets with your friends after last call into the streets at night. This is a song for after they’ve gone.

The Kills - ‘What New York Used to Be’

The Kills never fail to sound, to me at least, like that super tempting next drink that’s going to tip you over from having a good time to blazing a path of self-destruction through the rest of the night. ‘What New York Used to Be’ is a montage of quick cuts, wide crowd shots  and close ups on couples arguing at the bar. It’s angry and it doesn’t know why.

Mike Doughty - ‘Rising Sign’

And we end on a hopeful note, not surprisingly. Even fuck ups with a weakness for bad ideas manage a happy ending, sometimes.