#“Better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

[ethics-wizard]

A piece of advice I have often received is:

"If you kept you mouth shut people wouldn't think you a fool" and this has always perplexed me because in the end it states it is better to not know and be perceived as smart than to make it known that you don't know and then learn from your mistake. I just find it strange that so many figures of authority in my life would rather I maintain my image rather than learning.

[kryptznnn]

♛- Could've fooled me

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

➸ INTERESTS; -timeskip/pro-hero!katsuki bakugo x f!reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - Little drabble/blurb about Bakugo, and how much he claims to hate you. Considering you as someone who's nothing, but an obstacle for him, but like all obstacles you constantly get in his way, and he loves it.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.1k, mentions of hatred/dislike, indecisiveness, romantic and sexual tension, smut, p in v, oral sex f!recieving, masturbation m!engaging, kissing, orgasms (both f and m engaging), mentions of arguing, hating/disliking to liking/loving relations.

➸a.i; - omg new blurb everyone wake up eek, working on 3 masterlists rn so sad eugh, but i hope u guys enjoy.

༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚.

Katsuki hates how much you tail or tag around him, no matter how many times he's told you to leave him alone you just keep coming back.

Katsuki also hates the amount of attention you attract whenever you're out, whether a small story the girls are bringing up about random people approaching you, or even if he's stuck in a situation with you himself. He knew better than to bring it up to your attention through an argument though, you can't help who you attract. He just considers you lucky that he's always there at the right times.

He despises how kind you are, it almost seems as if you do it to mock him. You're not nice, but kind, kind to random people you've met, people you've had issues with and even him. It bothers him more like anything before, maybe it's because he believes he's the only person that should be getting that attention.

He isn't fond of how much you two share in common aside from your opposite attitudes. It's almost as if you two were meant to clash with one another. Arguments would always disperse between the two of you, and honestly, it fired him up in a way even he wouldn't expect.

He hates how he's back at his place now, his sweatpants pulled down to his thighs as his wifebeater was now rolled up over his belly button. His breath hitched as he was 'relieving himself of his anger' from your argument prior. He wasn't sure if he was going crazy or was just too caught up in the moment, but when he pictured you on your knees with your mouth wide open it sent him straight to climax, huffing and grunting softly to himself.

Don't get Katsuki started on the entire phrase others repeat to him. 'Opposites attract', he finds it a bunch of bullshit, he hates how often he hears it. Even if whatever he felt for you was what everyone else thought there's no way it was reciprocated. From all of his messes he had to clean up (like last night's mess) there was no way he'd take the risk.

He hates how he wasn't able to realize it sooner, your small remarks and subtle comments were pointers. You did reciprocate whatever he was feeling towards you, and he knew that by how much you were babbling underneath him while he fucked you.

Katsuki loves how you feel around his cock, it's like you're trying to suck him in any deeper from the inside. There wasn't any deeper, his breath was ragged as you were a moaning mess by how his tip kissed your cervix with every thrust.

"Katsuki please, I- ah, I can't" you cry. Oh, he loves how much you try to fight him over it, it's practically making him harder than he was. He could tell you were close; no one just denies their pleasure if an orgasm isn't close.

He's quick to lift up one of your legs, pressing down on the back of your thigh as he pistols himself within you now, your cries getting louder as your clawing at his shoulders and back now. He hates how easily whipped you are for him, one minute you invite him into your place and the next your spread out on your couch.

He hates that you attempt to cover your mouth while he's drilling you so quickly, you're sure that the condom he has on will either snap or come off. He's quick to grab your hands and hold them over your head with his much larger one.

He doesn't like how good you feel now, because now he's getting vocal. He hates being vocal more than anything, and with the other girls he's fucked it hadn't been a problem until right now with you. The way you were biting and clawing at him made something in the pit of his stomach flutter, maybe it was something he ate.

He loves how you kiss him when you come undone, biting his lip softly as you whine and twitch through your orgasm. His thrusts becoming sloppy after your orgasm. You now applied pressure and spoke him through his own orgasm, and even clamped down on him, and it wasn't helping.

He likes the fact that he's doing this to you, that this moment is being shared between the two of you. At first when you two started you admitted out of shame this was your first time, he only looked at you in awe, to him this was an honor.

He hated how much you squirmed and moved around when he ate you out when you started. His tongue never leaving your clit as he dug his fingers deep into you, one by one. He wanted to keep you still, he didn't like how you pushed and turned, but it was all worth it when he made you cum, the first time out of many for the night.

"Ha, are you close? Your- mmm, you're going faster" you moan into him, as he buries his head within your neck and nods slightly. He isn't a man of many words, the two of you knew this already, but for you he wanted to. Maybe the thought was stupid or funny to ridicule him for, but he wishes for this moment to never end, and he hates that.

Katsuki was just on the edge, no words were shared between you two, more importantly him, as he climaxed. His grunts and breathing were as heavy as ever as he cradled into your shoulder, you only rubbed his back and moaned along with him, easing him through it. He hated how you babied him, even though you were younger than him.

Maybe he hated the fact that he secretly loved what you were doing, you weren't able to see it, but after the high faded he smiled. Katsuki smiled at the fact of how happy he was to share such a moment like this with you, but yet again it was going to take a lot to even get a confession from him.

As of now, not even Katsuki Bakugo himself could tell you whether or not he still hated you. Hating someone for who they are and hating someone for what they do are two different things, but maybe it wasn't even you. Katsuki hates how he feels for you because it drives him off in such an animalistic way, he just can't ever get enough of you.

And he loves it.

༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚. ༊࿐ ͎. ｡˚ ° ⊹ ˚.

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[yandere-daze]

I thought it was high time that I finally wrote something for this man and this idea was stuck in my head for days. I hope you enjoy! <3

gn reader

2.3k words

cw yandere, obsessive behaviour, hypnotizing siren song, manipulation

Yandere! Siren! Sunday x Sailor! Reader

You weren´t supposed to be anything more than an easy prey. A human led astray by his enchanting tunes like any other, only to be torn apart once within reach.

You were a simple sailor sailing the deep waters of the ocean with your small crew. For what purpose? Sunday wasn´t quite sure and he didn´t really care to know. All he yearned for was sinking his claws into your vulnerable flesh as he dragged you to the bottom of the ocean.

You see, Sunday was a siren, a hunter in the image of a beautiful young man with grey hair and enchanting golden eyes. Were it not for his singing voice, a deep gaze into his radiant eyes would be enough to tempt any poor fool into his waiting arms. Yet his voice, oh his voice, its heavenly sound masking his dark intentions.

Within his lifetime, Sunday has lured many unfortunate sailors to their demise though, in recent times, fewer and fewer boats have delved through the waters he called his home. From what he had witnessed being whispered onboard, tales of cunning and vicious sirens roaming these waters have reached the mainland, causing many to steer clear and avoid this place.

This naturally annoyed Sunday, for the flesh of humans was what he sustained himself with. This fact only increased his determination when after quite a long while of waiting for a sign of life, a boat had finally lost its way into his domain again. Sunday had been hungry for way too long now, he couldn´t let this stroke of luck go to waste.

So certain that he would finally claim his prey again, he decided to first spy on the passengers of the boat before making his move. It was important for him to know the routines and habits of the sailors if he wanted to catch them alone to entice them to run into their doom.

As a siren, Sunday was more powerful than an average human but even he wouldn´t be able to fight off several sailors if he were to try and hypnotize someone in broad daylight. He couldn´t risk the crew becoming aware of his presence and leaving, he couldn´t go on without another meal again.

And so, he secretly started spying on the passengers of the small boat, staring at them from behind a rock and making sure to keep his tail concealed within the water. He watched everyone go along with their days on board the ship when something unexpected happened.

He saw you, stepping away from the rest of the crew to stand near the edge of the boat, a smile on your face as you let the sun shine on your face. Without even realizing it, you had stepped close to where Sunday had gone to hide. You were so close, almost within arm´s reach. For a moment, Sunday deliberated if this was his chance to strike.

With you separated from the rest of the crew like this, it would be a simple thing indeed to lure you into the waters where you would disappear forever.

But just as he thought this, he stopped in his tracks as he watched your carefree smile, suddenly becoming enchanted by the way the light of the sun rained upon your skin. For lack of a better word, your presence at that very moment was mesmerizing and Sunday felt warm inside as if the rays of the sun were descending on him instead.

And then, for a moment, Sunday almost felt his heart stop for then you opened your mouth and started, he almost couldn´t believe it, singing.

There you were, practically within the jaws of a predator, and letting your soul rejoice in song so carelessly. And yet, within your naivety, Sunday couldn´t help but feel at peace. Your song rang out across the lonely waters, unaware that your secret audience was becoming more and more enchanted by you by the second.

Your singing, Sunday couldn´t quite describe it. It sounded nothing like his own singing, which was beautiful and yet felt intrinsically wrong somehow. Your song was nothing like that. It might have not been as pretty or practiced as his own singing, but yet it managed to ring true within his heart. Your song felt earnest and real, untainted and uncorrupted by malice. Within seconds, you had captured his attention and heart, yet you were completely unaware that he was even present.

In an ironic twist of fate, Sunday felt himself being pulled towards you as if touched by magic, an ardent longing for you deep within his chest. It was as if you were the siren calling out to him, beckoning him closer like a lovesick sailor lost at sea, yet Sunday was sure that instead of a sudden demise, he would find true salvation within your arms. With the way you were holding out your arms, he could almost imagine you wrapping them around his body in a lover´s embrace, pulling him so close as if you would never let go of him again.

Because he knows that´s what he would do if he finally had his beloved in his arms. For only a fool would ever let go of the person they want to spend the rest of their life with. It filled him all at once, this desire to have you for his own, to make you his dearest mate.

You were radiant and joyful in a way he had never seen before and he couldn´t bear the thought of letting you slip away from him.

And from the desperate yearning he could so clearly hear in your song dedicated to just him, he knew that you must feel the same way. You were just waiting, begging to be taken away by him. Why else would you walk so close to him, all on your own and profess all of your feelings like this? Sunday now knew that this meeting was fated to happen and he would be sure not to waste it.

He had been watching you closely for the past few days along with the other sailors aboard the ship and he saw how the other crew members acted around you. He had thought nothing of it back then but now boiling jealousy filled his being as he remembered how chummy they had been acting with you. How they had laughed and joked around with you so easily, how they had thrown their arms around you and sang cheery tunes beneath the starry sky.

He especially detested that one scoundrel that had dared to kiss your cheek so invasively. How dare they treat you like this? How dare they lay their filthy hands on you when your beauty was meant for solely him to treasure? But not to worry, Sunday would finally bring you home and keep you safe.

He understood your surprise when he finally emerged from his hiding spot and started swimming towards you. You looked so pitiful with your body shaking and your eyes growing wide when you saw his shimmering white mermaid tail. You poor thing must be frightened out of your mind because of all these stories you were told about his kind but do not be afraid! Sunday would never hurt you like this.

You were special to him, you just needed to allow him to show you that. You backing away from the railing, backing away from him, just wouldn´t do.

"Darling, there is no reason to be afraid, I´m not here to hurt you, do not let their horrid tales corrupt your thoughts. I am here to finally take you home!" He reached out his hands to you, wishing for you to jump into them and accept his love willingly yet he could only click his tongue in disappointment when instead, you took another step back.

"D-don´t come any closer!", you shouted out, breaking the poor siren´s heart in the process. How it hurt him to see you so frightened that you would turn your soulmate away. But no matter, he was prepared to take matters into his own hands and nudge you towards your own happy ending. You just needed a little bit of convincing.

"My darling, please listen to me! You and me, I know we were meant to be! So please don´t resist this, alright?", he hummed gently, his voice almost pitiful while begging you to hear him out.

You would have even felt sympathy for him if you weren´t acutely aware that you were facing a dangerous predator. There was no doubt in your mind that this was a siren and you needed to get away from there fast.

But unfortunately for you, you weren´t quick enough for as soon as you had gathered your resolve, Sunday´s ethereal singing voice had swiftly broken it down.

Suddenly, all your previous thoughts about him being a danger to stay away from evaporated, leaving you confused as to why you ever wanted to run away from him. There was nothing dangerous about him, was there?

Instead, your mind was now being filled with pleasant images of you and the siren spending time together, of him holding you close protectively, of him swearing his eternal love and kissing you. All of a sudden, you felt warm all over as you gazed deep into Sunday´s eyes and you knew that he was the one that was meant for you.

Slowly, one step at a time, you walked closer to the edge of the boat again, where Sunday was happily holding out his hands for you to take, eagerly grasping at air as if to usher you even closer.

And you were all too eager to follow his demands as a sugary sweet melody droned on and on in your ears, overwhelming you with feelings of everlasting love and devotion.

"That´s it, darling. Come closer. It´s only a few more steps.", he urged you on, almost desperately as you almost came into touching range. It was only a few more moments until he could finally have you in his arms. And once he did, he would never allow you to leave him again. Not that you would be able to underwater.

Voices were picking up in the background, quickly getting closer and Sunday realized that your crew must have picked up on what was happening.

"Come here quickly, darling!", he shouted, his voice growing more urgent and desperate the closer the booming voices got.

And you did as he said, quickening your steps towards him with a lovesick smile on your face.

"I´m almost there, my love", you said and Sunday´s heart almost burst at the sweet tone you took with him. He knew you were currently under the influence of his siren song but he strongly wanted to believe that the love you felt for him was real. Why else would you too be looking at him so full of yearning?

"Someone, quick! Grab on to them! That siren is trying to lead them to their death!", a gruff voice yells from the back with several more footsteps scrambling quickly behind. They were advancing on you fast and Sunday knew he was almost out of time as one quickly ran up to you.

"No, no, no! Don´t touch them! They´re mine! Don´t ruin this for me!", he yelled out in anger, his eyes a furious storm as they glared at the person trying to get a hold of you. He couldn´t fail so close to the end. How dare they accuse him of trying to harm you?!

"Please, you need to come to your senses!", the sailors try to reason with you but it´s almost like you can´t even register what they say.

" I need to meet with my love, he´s waiting for me.", you say, still smiling as you step to the very edge of the boat, looking down at a Sunday growing more and more manic by the second.

"Jump into my arms, darling! Accept my love and be mine forever!", the siren calls out to you as a crew member grabs into your arms, trying to pull you back.

"Don´t listen to him! Please, don´t do as he says!"

You struggle violently against the hold, kicking and screaming, demanding to be let go.

"No, you can´t separate me from my love, let me go! I need to be by his side!", you scream and with an especially harsh kick, the sailor lets go of you for a moment, leaving you with enough time to take the final step and jump right into your demise.

Sunday gently catches you in his arms, a lovesick smile on his face as he finally gets to hold you like he wanted to. You´re finally all his and there´s nothing that can be done about it anymore.

"I´m so happy you chose me, darling. We´re going to be so happy together. I´ll take such good care of you. No one else is ever going to touch you again.", he whispers into your ear and you can´t help but giggle joyfully at the prospect, your mind singing with affection, drowning out the growing panic within you.

But what is there to be afraid of? You´re finally united with the love of your life and nothing will ever separate you again.

Sunday holds you firmly as he quickly swims away from the boat, leaving your panicked crewmates behind.

Now that he finally has you, he will make sure that you´ll grow to love him even without his song. He knows that deep down, you love him just as much as he does you, you´ll just need a little bit of time to adjust to your new life underwater. He knows of a very beautiful underwater cave that he can keep you in until you grow more accustomed to your new life with him. Down there, you´ll never be able to escape his grasp again.

You will be his forever, for that is the consequence of putting him under a spell like you has.

And then he takes you with him to the very depths of the sea, never to be seen again.

[navybrat817]

Soak Up the Sun

Pairing: Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: It's a beautiful day and Bucky has to pay you a visit.

Word Count: Over 1.6k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), semi-public, flirting, Bucky Barnes and he's crazy about you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Welcome to my Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Anon requested neighbor!Bucky to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #37 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was not being a creepy neighbor by looking into your yard. Not at all. It was a nice day and he merely wanted to see if you were outside so he could pay you a visit. Spending some time with you would be the only thing to make the day better.

He groaned when he spotted you on your lounge chair. Your exposed skin glistened in the sunlight, the rays practically kissing every inch of you. He adjusted the front of his shorts when he realized you were wearing the same bikini he tore off the last time you two went for a swim. The little whimpers you made when you tried to keep quiet only made him want you to be louder. Holding you close after, his heart raced even faster than it did when he was inside you.

He was whipped and didn’t give a single fuck about it.

Quickly shedding his shirt so he was left in only his shorts, he walked through the gate with a confident smile. “Hey, Beauty,” he called out. He didn’t want to startle or bother you. Well, maybe he wanted to bother you a bit since he liked having your attention.

Something about you made him needy in the best possible way.

Glancing up from the book in your hands, you acknowledged him with a nod. “Hey, neighbor. Or should I call you Beast?” His stomach did a funny flip when you smiled. How was it that your smile could disarm him so easily? “What's going on?” You asked, shifting in your lounge chair.

His eyes followed the strap of your bathing suit top as it slid off your shoulder. Did the motion cause it to slip or did you do it on purpose? It wouldn’t have surprised him either way. You enjoyed teasing each other. It was what made part of what made your relationship so fun.

Yes, relationship. In his eyes, you two were unofficially together. It wasn't like either of you were seeing anyone else. Why would he want anyone besides you? When was the last time he felt that way about anyone?

Never.

He never had.

He cleared his throat to regain his composure. “How are you?”

“Can't complain. It's a beautiful day and I’m enjoying the sunlight. Also catching up on my reading since I don’t have to deal with work. Maybe I can finally finish this book so I can give it back to you.”

Bucky leant you the book only a few days ago and had heard work was giving you a bit of a headache. He was more than willing to help you relieve some stress. “Keep it for as long as you want.”

“Thanks,” you said, closing it and setting it aside so you could give him your full attention. “How are you?”

He bit his lip and made a show of looking you over. “I'm actually really hungry,” he said.

You raised an eyebrow. “You stopped by to check on me even though you're hungry? Were you being a friendly neighbor or were you hoping I'd cook for you?”

He chuckled. The feigned innocence may have fooled him if he didn’t catch your subtle smirk. “As much as I love your cooking, I was really hoping I could eat your pussy instead,” he said.

Your mouth fell open slightly before you laughed, a breathless sound that he loved to hear. “And you thought you'd just interrupt my reading and I'd spread my legs and give you what you want? That’s a bold assumption.”

“Bold and accurate. You think I can't see that your legs are already further apart? Giving me a front row view? And I know you’re wet for me. Bet you were the moment I walked over here.” He nodded to the juncture between your thighs. “It's not just about what I want. You want it, too.”

You gasped this time. His confidence bordered on cockiness, but it was for a good reason. You two were moths to each other’s flames that couldn’t be extinguished. Magnets that couldn’t be pulled apart.

He wouldn't deny it and neither would you.

“Okay, so maybe I wouldn't mind if you ate my pussy since you like it so much,” you said after a moment, laying back more. “And it would be rude of me to deprive you of a delicious meal since you’re so hungry.”

“I’m starving. It’s also a good stress reliever for you, so we both win,” he winked, leaning down to grab you by your thighs and pull you closer to the edge of the chair. As fun as it would be to get in the chair with you, gravity would likely push his end down and he didn’t want you to go flying or get hurt.

“I don’t know. I think our stargazing was a pretty good stress reliever,” You smiled, your breath hitching as he sank to his knees.

Reaching for your bikini bottoms, he let a hand settle on your hip as the other reached for your hand. “Yeah? You enjoyed it?” He asked. That was another stressful week for you and it broke his heart to see you so exhausted. He wished he could quit your job. They didn’t deserve you.

“Yeah, I did.” You sat up, keeping hold of his hand. It fit there so well. “It was perfect,” you whispered.

He met you halfway, two forces drawn closer until your lips touched. The collision was soft at first, warmth spreading like inside until it fueled his hunger and passion. He wasn’t sure if he deepened the kiss first, but your lips parted for him to let his tongue explore. The same way your pussy would open up for him and let indulge.

He pulled back to let you breathe, his hand finally untying the bottom half of your bathing suit and pulling it away. “Lay back,” he murmured, his gaze dropping your exposed pussy with a groan. “You’re fucking soaked.” It glistened even more than your skin and he was dying to get a taste. You were always so sweet, warm, and wet. How could he not want to spend as much time as he could between your thighs and keep you in his arms like you were the most precious gift?

How did he get lucky enough to have you move in next door?

“Bucky…” you breathed at the first lick of his tongue, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He moaned your name before he dragged his tongue along your slit again. “You’re so sweet,” he whispered, bumping his nose against your clit in an almost affectionate manner. Sweet enough for him to wreck. Sweet enough to make him smile.

It didn’t take long for him to stab his tongue deep and make you writhe, losing himself to you as he used a hand to keep you in place. He smelled and tasted your sweetness, felt your wetness and perfect cunt, heard your beautiful cries, saw your chest rise and fall. You surrounded him and took over all senses. You were everywhere. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

“Bucky, fuck!” You moaned unabashedly as he slipped a finger in with his tongue. If you cared that the neighbor on the other side of your place could hear or see anything you didn’t let it show. He didn’t give a fuck either. Let everyone see him on his knees worshipping at the altar of you.

He’d never get enough.

Your thighs trembled and you tugged on his hair, your breaths coming in harder and faster. “Bucky… I…” Your words died on your tongue as his tongue set your body on fire.

“Let go for me, beautiful,” he whispered. He wanted the coil inside you to snap so could catch you when you fell.

He added another finger just as your pussy pulsed, your back arching as you cried out his name. Groaning as your release soaked his mouth, he lapped up every drop and helped you ride out the waves before you whimpered. He grudgingly left the haven of your quivering walls so he could lean back to look at your panting form. Your skin glistened even more than before as you caught your breath. But what made his heart twist was the smile you gave him when your eyes met.

His heart pounded so hard he wondered if you heard it. He really wanted all of you. Nothing was going to change that.

“Wow…” you said, your breathing evening out more as your hand reached for his again. “Did you get enough to eat?”

Licking some of your lingering sweetness from his lips, he smirked and squeezed your hand. “I don't know. I think I’m still a little hungry.” He fixed your bikini bottoms and brushed his thumb along your clit through the fabric just to tease you again. Watching you squirm was quite the sight. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“What I do to you? What about what you do to me?” You whimpered, grasping his wrist. You sat up with dazed eyes and nodded to the impressive hard-on he was sporting in his shorts. “I think I may be hungry, too,” you teased, sighing as you rested back again. “But maybe we can take this inside and cuddle after? More comfortable there.”

His smile softened at your suggestion, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and never let you go. “Cuddling sounds nice.”

And maybe after he gave you another amazing orgasm, he’d ask you out on a proper date like you deserved.

A date with our neighbor would be so sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[azrielstaylorsversion]

Scars to match mine

Azriel x reader | angst

Warnings: torture, burns

Part 2

When Y/N is captured by the Autumn Court they try to torture information out of her. But what better way to torture someone than with fire?

I woke up with a pounding headache. The world around me was dark. I tried to gather my thoughts, remembering where I was.

The last thing I remembered was being outside in the Autumn Court. Gathering information on their movements. Then I was attacked. It all came back to me now.

I groaned, trying to sit up. My arms and legs hurt, like I had been thrown in here. I managed to get to my feet, in need of finding a way out.

I tried reaching out to my mate, but like I expected, there was no sign of the bond.

That was a good thing, I reminded myself. This would mean Azriel would know something was wrong. He knew about my whereabouts. He would come looking for me. I just had to be patient.

I slumbed back against the cold wet wall of the cell I was currently in. It wasn't big. There was nothing but stone in here, along with a strong steel door leading to god knows where.

A sigh escaped my lips, trying to ignore the pain in my body.

I couldn't wait to get home to Azriel, to just get this over with. Rhys would probably give me a lecture about being stupid, even though he never meant it. This time it had really been my fault. I knew I was getting to close, the possibility of being attacked very high.

The door to my cell unlocked, thrown open, revealing one of the sons of the Autumn Court.

I didn't move an inch, keeping my eyes on him and the two guards behind him at all times.

"Good. You're awake." he exclaimed rather happily.

I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I just kept staring ahead.

He moved his head to the guards. "Haul her up." he ordered them. They did as they were told.

A small flash of panic went through my body, but I pushed it down.

Their hands were harsh against my body, certainly trying their best to leave bruises. I stood out of free will, but they still kept their strong hold on my body.

"So, you care to explain your plans?" the Autumn son asked.

I stared at him, keeping my mouth shut. He would be a fool if he thought I was going to answer his question. I've been through worse things than torture. This was nothing compared to that.

"Well, if you aren't going to talk I unfortunately have to hurt you." he said with a smile. "But I will try it without that one more time."

He opened his hand, a small ball of fire forming inside of it. I did my best to hide the flicker of fear flashing through me.

Knives, whips, beatings. I could take all of that. But fire.. Fire was one of the worst kinds of torture. Especially with what happened to my mate.

"Tell me why Rhysand send you. What are you doing here?" he tried again.

I let out a small laugh which sounded more like a huff. "You really are dumb." I said to him. He looked offended.

Good.

"I would rather die or be tortured for years then tell you anything about the Night Court." I told him.

His smile disappeared at that. "I kind of wished you would've just answered the question right away. Now I need to ruin your pretty body." he said, his lips tilting upward again.

The ball of fire in his hands grew. A sickening feeling filled my body.

"I think you would like some matching scars with your mate, won't you?" he told me happily.

This time I didn't hide my fear. I thrashed against the hands that held my body, but they were to strong. I couldn't move.

I tried to move my hands away, but one of the guards held them up. There was no way in moving them.

In panic I tried to reach for the bond, only to remember it wasn't there.

Yet I kept screaming Azriel's name in my head, hoping for a small way through the blockage.

He now held the fire dangerously close to my hands. The warmth was terrible.

"One last chance."

"No." I said firmly, preparing myself for the pain to come.

He moved my hands into the ball of fire. Excruciating pain filled my body. Worse than ever.

I cried out, not even trying to hide my pain.

The male was laughing as I kept screaming, begging him to stop.

Everything after happened so fast. I couldn't remember if it had been a few seconds or minutes.

Flashes of blue crossed my vision along with the red of blood.

I fell to the ground, curling up to myself, trying to somehow push my hands away. To get rid of the terrible pain that lingered.

Everything was blurred. But one thing I knew, was that the hands that picked me up were familiar. The voice talking me through my pain was familiair. It was nice.

I could vaguely remember flying. The next vague memory I had was of entering a house, voices yelling and people gathering around me.

I remember telling someone I felt so much pain. I also remember that someone telling me I was going to be okay. That he loved me so much and he wouldn't leave my side.

It was only when someone started touching my hands that I lost consciousness.

The thing I do remember is waking up. My eyes flickered open slowly to find the sun setting outside.

I looked around in confusion. I was in my room. In my bed. Mine and Azriel's.

A warm hand was placed on my arm. I turned my head to find my mate smiling at me. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked gently.

I nod, a bit unsure, still having to process most of it.

His hands cupped my face. "I'm so sorry about what happened. And I'm so glad you're okay."

I smiled at him, lifting a hand to touch his face... only to find it wrapped in a thick bandage. Both my hands.

Realization flashed through me, along with panic and a bit of pain.

Azriel immediately reached for me. "Hey, don't panic. It's okay. I'm here." he told me, staying perfectly calm.

"I-.." I couldn't find my words. "I can't feel anything." I decided on.

Azriel gave me a sad smile. "Madja gave you something strong against the pain. That's the reason you don't feel your hands." he said. "Hopefully.." he added quietly. He didn't need to explain what he meant by that.

Azriel's warm smile had disappeared from his face, sadness having taken over.

"Is it bad?" I questioned quietly.

"Yes. It will hopefully heal with time, but the scarring will stay. It will probably look something like my hands." he explained to me softly.

I always thought Azriel's scars were beautiful. But I never thought I would have to live with them myself. This felt different.

"I will not love you differently because of your scars." he told me, his hand on my cheek. He must've felt my negative thoughts.

"He told me we would have matching scars." I said, not even sure why I was telling him this.

Azriel's body stiffened. He shifted a few seconds later, the bed dipping slightly from his weight. He wrapped his strong arms around me carefully, tugging me into his chest. I gladly let him as I kept staring at the wall in front of me.

"Do not think differently about yourself. I know how hard it is, I've been there. I will help you through it, like you have helped me through it."

I snapped my attention back to Azriel, my eyes locking with his. I nodded, knowing and feeling he meant every word.

I buried my face in his chest, trying not to cry.

He held me tightly, his hands moving up and down my body while whispering sweet words in to my ears which eventually lulled me back to sleep again.

[soobnny]

one in the morning — kim seungmin. roommate au. fluff. a little slice of life.

roommate seungmin takes care of you when you catch a cold (1.0k words)

“(Name). Wake up.”

It’s quiet in your shared apartment, save for Seungmin’s harsh whispers jolting you from your trance of sleep.

There’s a trace of grogginess in his voice, like he’d forced himself awake, you’re not quite sure. It’s a little difficult to focus on anything when every surface of your skin feels like it’s burning.

“(Name).” He tries again, cold hand tapping against your arm. He’s gentle with his actions. He knows it wouldn’t take much to jolt you awake in your state.

“Seungmin?” You croak, voice congested as a result of your fever.

When you open your eyes, your roommate makes it look like he hadn’t been hovering over you and trying to shake you awake for the past few minutes. He just stands back, glass of water and your prescribed medicine in hand.

He looks exhausted, messy hair indicative of just having woken up and you don’t miss the yawn that leaves his lips when he turns away from you for a second.

The big white shirt he’s wearing is a little lopsided that it exposes a bit of his collarbones.

“The doctor said you need to take this every 8 hours, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he knows. He’d practically dragged you to get yourself checked after you’d failed to hide your fever from him.

“Yeah.” You move to sit up, the sound of rustling sheets lingering in the silence. A quick glance at the clock on your bedside table will tell you it’s close to one in the morning. It’s too early to have shaken your roommate away from his sleep. You feel sorry.

Seungmin hands you the medicine and glass of water in his hands. “Here, drink this.”

You take the medicine from his hand, placing it on your tongue and chugging it down with water almost immediately, like you’ve been told. You would hate for the metallic taste of the drug to linger on your tongue lest you want to start vomiting.

Your roommate only takes the glass back after you've drank every last drop, feverishly placing it on your bedside table so he doesn’t make a mistake of dropping it.

“Just gonna check your temperature now, okay? Then you can go back to sleep.” His hand falls over your forehead, an evident frown tugging at his lips before shoving his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants to grab the thermometer he’d brought with him.

“Okay.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“It might feel a little uncomfortable.” He uncaps the cover off of the thermometer before gently tapping at your chin, as if telling you to open your mouth so he can slip the thermometer tip under your tongue.

When he slips it in, the first thing you discern is how cold the metal feels in your mouth. The next is how warm his hand feels gently moving strands of your hair away from your face before falling limp by his side.

The device is uncomfortable, but you don’t want to bother Seungmin any more than you already have.

“You can close your mouth now, then we’ll just wait for it to beep.”

Seungmin does nothing for the 30 seconds it takes the thermometer to check your temperature, simply sits on the edge of your bed patiently. The way he attempts to keep his eyes open is almost endearing.

He must’ve had a long day today.

The thought makes your face twitch. Your roommate isn’t usually like this, always passive in the things you do, but there’s something about the way he’s taking care of you right now that suddenly makes you aware of how considerate he is about things you usually overlook.

Thinking about it makes your face hot, so you stop. You wouldn’t want to fool the small device in your mouth.

When the thermometer beeps, Seungmin takes it from your mouth gently, staring down at the little screen before sighing a little in relief. “A little better than your temperature this morning. How do you feel, though?”

“I can’t really tell.” You feel ridiculous for it. The least you can offer him is a little reassurance that his efforts at waking you up to take your medicine are slowly adding up to your betterment, but you genuinely cannot tell if you feel better or not.

“That’s alright. We’ll check again in the morning. You can go back to sleep now.”

Your mind is slow to process your roommate tucking you back in. It doesn’t see him taking the empty glass on your table and shuffling to leave the room. It can only hear the quiet patter of his feet and the heavy inhale and exhale of exhaustion from the boy.

You’re halfway back to surrendering yourself to sleep when you call his name. “Seungmin?”

He’s just about outside your door when he turns back and lets his eyes gaze over to you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that you can’t quite put a word to. It’s different to how he looks when it’s morning and you’re more aware.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” You think the guilt will swallow you whole if you keep letting it brew in your sternum, so you tell him. The words sound congested when they leave your mouth, but you hope he understood every single word.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You could never be a bother sits on his tongue.

“Go back to sleep. I don’t have plans tomorrow so I’ll be here to take care of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you one final time before shutting the door closed behind him. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest.

A little digging will tell you he does have plans for tomorrow, and if you asked Jeongin he’d probably rat out his best friend and tell you how he’d asked to raincheck so he could stay and take care of you.

(“Jeongin, I can’t come tomorrow. Can we move it to Sunday?”

“Why?” He whines.

“...(Name) is sick.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless. Dude, just tell her how you feel, it’s not that hard.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait, tell her get well so—”)

Maybe if you were more awake, you would’ve noticed the little ways in which he cares for you. Maybe if your mind was a little sharper in processing things, you would’ve heard him saying he’d do anything for you, even if it was to sacrifice the sleep he values. Instead, you close your tired eyes and fall back to unconsciousness.

In the morning, you’ll be greeted by a hot bowl of soup and the company of a roommate who bears more feelings for you than you originally thought.

[ultravionna]

best friend’s brother

pairings: bfb!dallas winston x fem!reader

summary: dallas is your best friend’s brother

warnings: nsfw, teeny tiny bit of smut

disclaimer: yes, i am aware that that is a pic of tex mccormick above. it fit the theme leave me alone-

w/c: 3,151

the night was calm, with the soft hum of the city outside filtering through the slightly cracked window.

you and dana were lounging on the couch, a pile of blankets thrown haphazardly over the both of you as you scrolled through a list of movies. laughter bubbled between you two, a mix of inside jokes and teasing remarks. dana tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth, missing entirely and sending it rolling down her shirt. you both burst out laughing.

"you're the worst at this," you chuckled, nudging her side.

"hey, i'm improving! that one almost made it." dana grinned, leaning back into the cushions. "so, which movie? horror or rom-com?"

before you could answer, the front door creaked open. you both turned your heads just in time to see dallas winston slink inside, his usual cocky swagger evident in every step. he was late-again-but he didn't seem to care, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"dal'!" dana scolded, sitting up straight. "that's the fifth time this week! mom and dad are going to kill you if they find out."

dallas shrugged, unbothered, and headed straight for the kitchen. "they'll get over it, man." he drawled, his voice low and thick with that unmistakable new york accent. he reached into the fridge, pulling out a can of beer. popping it open with a practiced flick of his thumb, he sauntered over to the couch and, without a word, hopped over the back to land between you and dana.

"watch it, dumbass!" dana protested, shoving at his shoulder. "we're trying to have a movie night."

"yeah?" dallas grinned, taking a swig from his can.

"what're we watching? something with sparkly vampires, i bet."

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his teasing tone. "please, we've got better taste than that."

"could've fooled me, dollface," he quipped, nudging you with his elbow. the way he said it, the nickname laced with a double meaning, made you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

you turned your attention back to the movie list, scrolling aimlessly, but it was hard to focus with dallas so close. his presence was electrifying, the warmth radiating from him impossible to ignore. the smell of his cologne, something musky and dark, filled your senses, making your thoughts swirl.

dana huffed, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl. "i'm gonna get more blankets from the shed. you two try not to kill each other while l'm gone."

"wouldn't dream of it, sis," dallas replied, his eyes never leaving you.

as dana disappeared through the back door, the air in the room thickened. the silence between you and dallas was heavy, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you seemed willing to address. you grabbed the popcorn bowl, intending to refill it in the kitchen, but as soon as you stood up, dallas was right behind you.

you didn't hear him move. one moment he was lounging on the couch, the next his arms were wrapping around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest. the bowl slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the countertop as you froze, your breath catching in your throat.

"miss me?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

you scoffed, trying to play it cool despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "not a chance."

dallas only smirked, his grip tightening slightly as he turned you around to face him. his hands settled on your hips, the heat of his touch searing through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts. you could feel his gaze burning into you, his eyes dark and intense.

"liar," he whispered, leaning in closer. his breath ghosted over your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"your sister's gonna be back any minute," you warned, though your voice lacked conviction. you couldn't tear your eyes away from his, the intensity in them making it hard to think straight.

"then we'd better make this quick," he murmured, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bowl with one hand. he brought it to your lips, his fingers brushing against them as he held it there.

instinctively, you bit down on the popcorn, holding it between your teeth.

dallas's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his hand cupping your chin, tilting your head slightly upward.

his other hand stayed firmly on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. slowly, he took the popcorn from your lips with his mouth, his lips grazing yours as he did. the brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, your body reacting before your mind could catch up.

before you could fully register what was happening, dallas closed the distance, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. his hand on your hip pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together as his lips moved against yours. the kiss was intoxicating, the taste of salt and butter lingering on your tongue as his thumb continued its lazy circles on your skin, each movement sending sparks of heat through your body.

for a moment, you were completely lost in him, the world around you fading away. but then, the sound of the back door opening snapped you back to reality. you pushed dallas away, your heart racing as you tried to catch your breath.

dallas backed off, his smirk never faltering as he leaned casually against the opposite side of the counter. he took a sip from his beer, his eyes glinting with mischief as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

dana walked back in, her arms full of blankets. she glanced at the two of you, oblivious to what had just transpired. "did i miss anything?"

"just the usual," dallas said, his tone light and carefree.

dana rolled her eyes, clearly not buying it, but she didn't press the issue. you, on the other hand, were left reeling, your thoughts spinning in a million directions as you tried to process what had just happened. dallas caught your eye from across the kitchen, his smirk widening as if to say, this is far from over.

-

the house was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the dim glow of the kitchen. you had left the living room after dana had fallen asleep during the second movie, her soft snores filling the silence. it was late—later than you should’ve been up—but sleep was the last thing on your mind.

you stood by the kitchen counter, sipping from a bottle of water as you tried to calm the restless energy coursing through you. it wasn’t just the events of the evening that had you wired; it was the persistent thoughts of dallas and the lingering heat of his touch from earlier.

the sound of soft footsteps behind you made you tense, and you turned to see dallas leaning against the doorway, his familiar smirk firmly in place.

“can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

you shrugged, trying to play it off. “yeah. something like that.”

dallas stepped into the kitchen, his eyes never leaving you as he sauntered over. “y’know, my room’s just down the hall if you need some…assistance with that.”

you rolled your eyes, the suggestion clear in his tone. “of course it is,” you muttered, trying to hide the way your pulse quickened.

he chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. “what? i’m just offering to help. it’s what a good host does, after all.”

“pretty sure your version of ‘help’ is different from everyone else’s,” you shot back, taking another sip of water.

“maybe,” he conceded, moving closer until he was standing right in front of you. “but it’s a lot more fun, don’t you think?”

you met his gaze, trying to ignore the way his presence made your skin tingle. he was infuriating, with that cocky grin and those intense eyes that seemed to see right through you. and yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t help but be drawn to him, despite how much you wanted to resist.

dallas leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “so, what’s really keeping you up, sweetheart?”

you hesitated for a moment before giving him the simplest answer. “just couldn’t sleep.”

his smirk widened, as if he knew there was more to it than that, but he didn’t press. instead, he took the bottle from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he raised it to his lips, taking a slow sip.

“you should try and get some rest,” he said after a moment, his tone deceptively casual. “can’t have you looking tired tomorrow.”

“why’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“because i plan on keeping you busy,” he replied with a grin that was all mischief. “and i don’t want you using ‘tired’ as an excuse to back out.”

you rolled your eyes again, though the corners of your lips tugged up in a small smile. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet, you’re still here,” he countered smoothly, handing the bottle back to you. “so, what does that say about you?”

you didn’t answer, instead taking the bottle and turning away from him. but dallas wasn’t done with you yet. he stepped closer, his body heat brushing against your back as he leaned down to murmur in your ear.

“think about my offer, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with suggestion. “my door’s always open.”

before you could respond, he straightened up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there with your thoughts in a whirl. the encounter had been brief, but it had left you feeling more awake than ever, your mind racing with the implications of his words.

you knew one thing for sure: with dallas winston around, sleep was going to be the least of your worries.

-

the house was shrouded in silence, dana's soft breathing the only sound in the living room as she slept soundly on the couch. you, however, were wide awake, staring at the ceiling as your mind replayed the conversation with dallas in the kitchen. his offer hung in the air like a dare, challenging you in a way you couldn't quite shake off.

sleep was impossible. you'd tried everything— closing your eyes, counting sheep, focusing on the rhythm of dana's breathing-but nothing worked.

your thoughts kept drifting back to dallas, his smug grin, and those words that had been laced with a double meaning.

before you knew it, you were sitting up, heart pounding as you glanced toward the hallway. you knew what you were about to do was reckless, maybe even stupid, but the pull was too strong to resist.

careful not to wake dana, you slipped off the couch and tiptoed toward the hallway, your pulse quickening with every step. the house seemed even quieter now, the darkness more oppressive as you approached dallas's door.

you hesitated for a brief moment, hand hovering over the doorknob. but the memory of his teasing voice, the promise in his eyes, pushed you forward.

with a deep breath, you turned the knob and quietly slipped inside, closing the door behind you.

the room was dimly lit by the glow of a small lamp on the bedside table, casting long shadows across the walls. dallas was lying on his bed, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. but the moment he heard the door close, his eyes flicked to you, and that familiar smirk curled his lips.

"well, well," he drawled, his voice low and amused.

"look who decided to take me up on my offer.”

you swallowed, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves as you stepped further into the room. 

"i couldn't sleep," you said, echoing your earlier excuse.

dallas pushed himself up on his elbows, his gaze never leaving you. "yeah? and you think i'm gonna help with that?"

his tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, something that made your heart race even faster.

"maybe," you replied, trying to sound confident, though your voice wavered just a little.

he chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in the quiet room. "c'mere, sweetheart."

you moved closer, your feet almost on autopilot as you approached the bed. dallas watched you with a look that was both challenging and inviting, his eyes dark and intense in the low light. when you reached the edge of the bed, he sat up fully, his legs dangling off the side as he reached out to take your hand.

"you sure about this?" he asked, though there was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he already knew your

answer.

you hesitated for the briefest of moments before nodding. "yeah. i'm sure."

with that, dallas pulled you toward him, his hands sliding to your waist as he guided you onto the bed.

you could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the way his fingers pressed into your skin, holding you close but not too tight. it was as if he was giving you the option to back out, even though you both knew you wouldn't.

he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck as he whispered, "you're playing with fire, dollface."

"maybe i like the heat," you shot back, surprised at your own boldness.

dallas's grin widened, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. "careful what you wish for."

before you could respond, he tilted your chin up with a finger, his eyes locking onto yours. the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife, but neither of you seemed in a hurry to break it. instead, you both lingered in that moment, the air between you charged with anticipation.

finally, dallas closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. it wasn't rushed or frantic but rather a slow burn, building up in intensity as he deepened the kiss, his hands roaming over your back. you could feel the heat of his skin, the strength in his grip, and it sent a thrill through you that you hadn't anticipated.

his touch was confident, almost possessive, as he guided you further onto the bed, his body pressing against yours. it wasn't just the kiss that had your heart racing; it was the way he held you, as if he'd been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

dallas broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found their way under your shirt, his touch firm yet gentle. you let out a soft sigh, your fingers tangling in his hair as he explored your skin, every touch igniting something deep within you.

he pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours again, and there was something almost predatory in his eyes—a look that sent a shiver down your spine.

"you sure?" he murmured, his voice low and rough.

you didn't hesitate this time. "i can handle you."

his smirk returned, but there was a hint of something darker behind it. "we'll see about that."

with that, he kissed you again, this time more urgently, as if he couldn't get enough. the heat between you two intensified, the room filling with the sound of your breaths and the rustle of sheets as you lost yourselves in the moment.

you weren't sure how long it lasted, but when dallas finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. he looked at you with a mix of want and something else you couldn't quite place before his head dipped down to plant kisses on your neck.

traveling down to your collarbone and then your chest, exposed by your tank top. he slowly moved down your body, his mouth trailing kisses down your smooth skin until he was mere inches away from where you needed him most.

his hands gripped your thighs gently, holding your legs apart so he could have a good view of you in your current state, a low and hungry sound escaped his lips as he looked at you before finally lowering his head down and letting his mouth touch the skin of your inner thighs. 

hands sliding up the sides of your thighs, his fingers grabbing at the fuzzy fabric of your pajama shorts, tugging at them as they slid down your hips and pulling them down your legs.  

looking back up at you, his fingers came up to brush against the dampness of your underwear. 

you shivered, a hand coming to his shoulder to halt his movements. 

“wait, wait…” you whispered, looking towards the door and then back down at him. “i think i heard something.” 

“what?” he asked, his voice still thick with desire. "you think dana woke up?" 

you nodded, though part of you didn't want to leave.

but you and dallas both knew all too well-you couldn't stay here, not without risking getting caught. with a reluctant sigh, you slipped off the bed, your legs feeling shaky as you stood up to place your shorts back on.

as you made your way to the door, dallas called out softly, "my offer still stands, y'know."

you glanced back at him, seeing that cocky grin on his face once again. "i'll keep that in mind," you replied, before slipping out of his room and back into the hallway.

the house was still quiet, and as you crept back to the living room, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. it was a reckless decision, sneaking into dallas's room like that, but you didn't regret it. if anything, it had only made you want more.

a string of silence went on for a moment or two as you laid back down against the pillowy cushions of the couch. letting out a small sigh, you snuggled into the couch pillow and slowly shut your eyes- until you heard shuffling on the other end of the couch.

“you’re nasty.” 

“what?” you murmured, lifting your head to look over at dana who laid at the other end. 

“i said you’re nasty.” she repeated, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke a bit over a whisper.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was starting to race.

dana let out a soft, tired laugh, her lips curling into a smirk. “you think i didn’t hear you tiptoeing down the hall? don’t worry, i’m not gonna snitch.”

your breath caught in your throat, but before you could say anything, she shifted slightly and added, “just try not to make too much noise next time, okay?” 

perks of sneaking around with your best friend’s brother—your best friend’s intuition is as sharp as her brother’s charm.

[sturniozo]

Can you make a fic of Nate and y/n having an argument because he thought she was flirting with their rivals captain and she says I bet he fucks better and before he can show her who does they are interrupted but the door opening and they have to wait on a long car ride home until they get dropped off at his house and he shows her who fucks better (idk if this made any sense kinda rushed.) 🙏

Captain

Nathan Doe x Reader

Masterlist

The crowd cheers from the bleachers as the home team scores another point. People standing and jumping as the shout and cheer. I bite my lip and smile, staring at my boyfriend as he skates on the ice.

I see him smile back at me through his helmet, waving his hand at me. I wave back before quickly putting my hand back down.

Once the game is over, I head through the crowd of people to find Nate. I stop at the door to the locker room, waiting for him to exit. A few of his teammates leave first, smiling at me as they walk past. It’s a usual routine, me waiting for him after every game.

As I wait someone unfamiliar walks past, going the opposite direction as everyone else. He turns around and looks back at me. He smiles and points at me. “I saw you, in the bleachers. Front row.” He says.

“Yeah, I was watching my boyfriend.” I tell him.

“Is your boyfriend on my team or the home team?” He asks.

“Home team.”

“Is he captain, I’m caption. My names Jake, yours?” Jake puts his hand on the wall by my head.

Before I can speak, we’re interrupted. “Her name is Y/n.” Nate says. He walks over to me and takes my hand. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Jake steps back and smiles. “Ah, okay then. I guess I’ll go.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nate says and Jake leaves. Nate turns to me, glaring. “I’m gone for five minutes and you cling to someone else?”

My jaw drops. “I was not clinging to him!”

“You could have fooled me, you were all over him.”

“I was not!”

“He was all over you.”

“That’s not the same thing!”

“You didn’t push him away.”

“So it’s my fault? He was just being nice.”

“He was flirting with you!”

“Nate, I’d rather not do this here.” I say as I start to walk away.

Nate grips my hand tightly, keeping me from walking away from him. “Would you rather be with him? What, does he fuck better than me?”

“I bet he does.” I laugh.

Without a second thought Nate pushes me through the door of the empty locker room, pressing me against the wall. His hands grip my hips tightly as his lips slam against mine. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, and my hands tangle themselves in his hair.

Nate’s tongue slips into my mouth as his hands travel under my shirt. His hands cup my breasts and squeeze lightly as his hips grind into me. I let out a soft moan into his mouth and Nate takes that as the go ahead. He begins to slip my shirt up.

The door opens and one of Nate’s teammates barges in. His face immediately goes red. “I- I think I left my phone in here…” he says.

Nate sets me down steps away from me. “We were just leaving.” He says. He takes my hand and we leave the locker room.

Nates quiet as we walk to his car. He opens the passenger door for me. Even when he’s pissed he’s still a gentleman. He closes the door once I’m in and gets into the drivers side.

The ride back to his house was agonizing. Part of me believes he’s doing it on purpose. Hitting every red light and waiting longer at each stop sign.

I clench my legs together, trying to stop the heat rising in me. I stare at Nate as he clenches his jaw, his knuckles white from how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel.

After what felt like hours, we finally pull into his driveway. I unbuckle my seatbelt quickly and get out of his car. Nate grabs my hand and pulls me into his house. He rushes up the stairs and yanks me to the bed, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

I sit up on the bed as Nate quickly slams his lips to mine. I pulls him as close as he can possibly be to me. I keep my hands on his shoulders as he crawls over me. He sits up over me. “I’m gonna show you who fucks better.” He says as he takes off his shirt and throws it across the room.

“Nate-“ I start to say but his lips clash against mine once again. My hands travel over his firm biceps and trail over his shoulder blades. His hands rush under my shirt and squeeze my boobs.

I tug on his sweats, begging him to take them off. I whine and paw at his bulge. “You’re so needy. I haven’t even touched you yet.” Nate whispers in my ear before kissing my neck.

“Nate, please.” I beg.

“Use your words baby.” He whispers between kisses.

“Nate, fuck me, please!” I beg.

Nate smirks and lifts my shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor. His lips latch against my skin as his hands fiddle with my jeans. He lays kisses over chest and down my stomach before reaching my jeans. He undoes the button and in zips them. I lift my hips up and let Nate slide my pants down.

He kisses my core from over my panties, trailing his finger up and down. “Nate!” I whine. “Please, just do something!”

Nate places one last kiss on my core before lifting his head up. “Be patient.” He tells me. I let out a soft whine and Nate shuts me up my pressing his lips to mine again.

I grind my hips against his for some friction. His bulge presses against my core and I let out another moan into his lips. He pulls away and pulls down his sweats. His bulge is even more prominent in his boxers.

I reach out to touch him but he pins my wrists above my head. “Not yet, baby.” He says.

I whine again and Nate smirks. He lets go of my wrists and trails kisses back down to my panties. He slides them to the side and presses a kiss to my clit. I gasp and my hands cling to his hair. Nate smiles and licks a stride up my core. He pads his tongue up and down my slit over and over before moving up and sucking on my clit.

Nate’s head dips up and lets go of my panties. He hooks his fingers through the sides of my panties and pulls them down. He throws them across the room before dipping down once again to lick another stride down my slit.

His tongue licks up and down my folds, stopping at my hole to push his tongue deep inside me, causing me to let out a loud moan and tug in his hair.

Nate chuckles, the air tickling my core causing me to shiver. His lips move to my click to suck on it once again while he slips two fingers inside of me. He pumps and curls the two fingers while his tongue flicks and swirls and sucks on my clit.

I moan loudly and pull on his hair, causing him to laugh against me again. He pulls his fingers out and pulls his head up just as I was about to release.

“Nate-“ I whine out. Nate presses his lips against mine before I can say anymore.

He pulls away. “Who’s fucking you better?“ he asks.

“You are.” I reply.

Nate smiles and pulls down his boxers. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach. He pumps it a few times with his hand before leaning down, his chest almost pressed against mine, his head in the crook of my neck as he slips into me.

I moan out loudly from the sheer size of him inside of me. Nate groans in my ear and lifts up, a hand on either side of my head as he looks into my eyes. He drags his hips away from me, pulling out to the tip before slamming into me harshly.

I wrap my leg around his waist, and he uses one hand to steady my leg while to other stays on the side of my head. His hips continue to slowly pull away before slamming into me harshly.

Nate picks up his pace, pulling out of me and slamming back into me in a quick pace. I moan loudly as I grip onto his arm, leaving marks with my nails.

“Who. Fucks. You. Better?” Nate asks, each word between another thrust into me.

“You, god, you Nate!” I scream out.

Nate smirks and lets go of my leg, moving to sit up on his knees, pulling me by my hips and lifting my hips to his. He slips back into me and begins immediately slamming in and out of me at a harsh pace.

“Nate, oh god!” I moan out.

“Just a little longer baby, you can last, can’t you?” Nate teases as he fucks into me.

His hand reaches down to my clit to rubs circles around it. I moan louder as he pumps in and out of me and rubs my clit.

“God, baby I’m so close.” Nate moans.

“Nate, Nate, I’m gonna-“

“Fuck, cum all over me baby.” He says. I oblige without a second thought, cumming all over him as he moans out.

He pumps in and out of me, chasing my high, before pulling out and pumping himself with his hand a few times, cumming on my stomach.

I pant as Nate lays down next to me. He pulls me close to him and kisses the top of my head. “Let me get something to clean you up, baby.” He says and gets up off the bed. He walks to his bathroom and comes back out with a wet, warm wrap. He wipes the cum off my stomach and the wetness between my legs before wiping himself down.

He puts the was in the laundry hamper before laying back down with me on the bed. He pulls me close to his chest and gives me a kiss on the head.

“I wasn’t flirting with him, I swear.” I say after I catch my breath.

“I know.” Nate reply’s

I lift my head up. “Then why were you so mad?”

“He’s the captain of the other team, and he was definitely flirting with you.” Nate kisses me again. “I didn’t want him to take you from me.”

“No one can do that, I love you Nate.”

Nate smiles. He kisses the tip of my nose. “I love you too.”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora

[pshcomforts]

➳ i wanna be yours | psh.

roommate!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. jisung and a few other members from nct dream)

“secrets i have held in my heart”

synopsis: you and sunghoon are roommates, and he’s grown tired of you and jisung constantly making up.

warnings/content: written in third pov. HEAVY! suggestive content and sexual tension (but nothing really happens). cursing/strong mentions of intercourse. toxic relationship with jisung (sorry). not proofread. this was kinda cliche..

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ dress ɞ˚₊

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:46 ─────|────────────── -2:17

“good morning, sweet girl.” y/n’s boyfriend complimented. she woke up with small kisses planted around her face.

“jisung, stop!” she giggled, swatting away as she tried to get out of his grasp. he laughed along, pulling her into a cuddling hug as she gave into it.

“sorry, i’ve just been wanting to kiss you since last night.” the girl rolled her eyes at him, being in a giddy mood before he got up.

“do you really have to go?” she softly pouted, feeling her heart break at the thought of not seeing him for an entire day. “sorry baby, i have to. it’s work,” jisung replied, throwing on his shirt as he got up from the bed.

after getting his clothes on, he opened the door with y/n following behind. as he left the room, he walked towards the door, almost leaving before catching a glance at sunghoon, her roommate.

“hey sunghoon!” her boyfriend excitedly said, raising his hand so they could do a man handshake. hoon only refused it though, not bothering to say anything back as he glared and walked away.

jisung muttered out — “asshole” — as he shook his head from the fact that they used to be friends.

“i’ll see you after work, baby.” he quickly said to y/n, not even bothering to give her a kiss before leaving.

she dumbly smiled at herself, hands on both cheeks to cool herself from the blush as she closed the door. “fucking barf,” a low voice said.

y/n automatically rolling her eyes after words were said before looking at sunghoon, who was gagging.

“fuck off hoon,” she said as she crossed her arms.

he gave a scoff at her words. “so you guys made up again huh?” a nod came from her as he only laughed. “like fucking always.”

“did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed today?? why are you being so moody at such an early time?”

“i, in fact, did sleep on the wrong side because of your ass.” y/n’s mouth shut. “i always sleep wrong because of how much you guys are fucking after making up. stop forgetting you have a roommate.”

she rolled her eyes at him as his bitterness pierced through her. sunghoon didn’t even want to say it, but he wished it was him. he wished it was him that was with her, wishing that it was him who’d treat her ten times better than jisung ever did after an argument. before the stubborn girl could even argue back, he intervened, “why do you keep going back to him anyway?”

“excuse me??”

hoon blinked slowly as he let jealousy get the best of him. “you heard me. why do you keep going back to an asshole like him?” his gaze stayed on hers and he could tell she was starting to get pissed off.

“it’s not your issue to worry about.”

there was a roll in her eyes as she was getting easily annoyed with her roommate. before she could walk away from the scene, he interrupted again — “except it is. every fucking night, he breaks your heart and i’m always left to pick up the pieces for you. and yet- you still go back to him. when are you gonna learn that he’s not the one for you?”

y/n stayed quiet for a second. she attempted to try and block out the last sentence as she said, “then stop being there for me. i never asked you to do that.” there was a sense of hurt in her tone. she knew she was a fool for going back but she couldn’t help it. whenever jisung called, she’d go back in a heartbeat and sunghoon would always have to be the one to comfort her right after. her eyes were quick to water with pain as she felt betrayed.

“you’re never gonna learn, are you? you keep going back to him, kissing his ass and making sure he’s okay when you’re not. you’re not making it any easier on yourself. he doesn’t deserve you..” his voice trailed off, feeling an aching pang in his heart as he always watched the girl he fell in love with go back to an asshole. how could he not love her? everything about her was how he imagined his love life would be, they were doing couple things without even noticing it — and jisung had to be the one to introduce himself through him first. he got to her before hoon could, seizing the chance to snatch up someone like y/n.

“you’re worth more than this relationship. when are you gonna realize that this shit with jisung is never gonna heal? don’t be stupid.”

his words felt like stabs in the back from a knife. everything offended her and though it was the truth, she couldn’t really handle that right now.

“shut up.” she finally responded, eyes staying stern on his as tears fell down. this time, it was him who made her cry and not jisung.

sunghoon felt his heart tear apart from her crying tears but she needed to hear the truth after constant days of just silent comforts he’d give her. her stance was still and the silence filled the air. as his heart ached from watching her cry, he tried to get closer to her — reaching a hand out but she moved back. her teary eyes still stayed on him, a look of hurt and betrayal present on her face as she couldn’t believe what he said. “y/n..” he licked his lips and swallowed down a gulp while his eyes blinked in fear of losing her.

she stepped away again, eyes fluttering from the tears that bled down her cheeks. the girl he loved turned her back against him, not saying anything as she rushed to her room and closed the door behind it.

sunghoon followed behind, getting to her a little too late as the door closed on him. his hand let out a soft smack against it as his eyes closed from the concern. he let out a quiet sigh before slightly yelling, “i’m sorry y/n..”

he felt tears wanting to be let loose as he had just realized he fucked up. he just wanted her to know the truth, to know that jisung was never gonna change from his shitty behavior.

he always swallowed his pride, but he couldn’t this time. seeing how sweet they were with each other was something he never wanted to see, and it sparked jealousy. he walked away though, leaving her to fend for some space as he didn’t want to intrude any further.

for the next few days, they’d constantly ignore each other. y/n often did it to hoon more than he would to her. the only reason why he ignored her was because he didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable than he already had, so he kept his distance.

there was something about going through each day without talking to her that had him almost lose his mind. the lingering glances they’d make towards each other would kill hoon. each time he could possibly talk to her again, she’d reject it before he could. it hurt him.

sunghoon missed her so much. even if they were under the same roof, nothing just felt the same again. not talking to his friend who knew almost everything that went on about his life was strange, and he didn’t like it. all he wanted was to make it right, but he knew she needed time.

however, everything almost took a change as y/n decided to go to a party with jisung. in which coincidental, sunghoon had gone to as well. perhaps not too coincidental as hoon and jisung still came from the same friend group.

the male roommate dreaded it though. he didn’t want to see the asshole called jisung there, tonguing down someone he couldn’t call his. unfortunately, he still went. jay reluctantly guilt tripped him to go as they were finally able to see their longtime friend, jake again.

“where is she…” he mumbled to himself, head turning left and right to try and catch a glimpse of her anywhere.

as he approached his friend group closer, he heard distant yelling. with caution, he went to the sound, only to find a familiar voice in the making.

“i can’t fucking believe you jisung!”

he hurried his steps in a rush of her voice. oh fuck.. please be okay, y/n… he thought as he continued till he stopped where the scenery was.

there the two of them were… his roommate and her boyfriend arguing in the middle of a party.

“just fucking listen to me, stop being like that and listen to me for once.” jisung groaned out with an irritating tone. his hands tightly gasped onto her wrist after speaking out.

the sickening action from him made sunghoon jump to his feet and go closer to where they were. he grabbed hold of jisung’s collar and in a swift move, hoon landed a smack on his face. the latter fell backward from the punch and landed on his ass.

“sunghoon??” y/n yelled, quickly looking at him as his arm extended out in front of her to not let jisung get any closer.

his head turned to meet her eyes. “are you okay?-“ and just like that, a hit was sent to sunghoon as well. a hurtful groan was let out from him as he wanted to stay on the cold floor for a second, but couldn’t when he saw y/n in the distant vision. he quickly stood on his feet again, seeing jisung slightly chuckle with a bloody mouth and fists up to fight more.

he tried to land another hit on hoon but he moved in time, the boy getting enough time to send another punch that had him land on the floor again. in a sudden motion, the two started tussling — hits being made left and right to each other as little mumbles of insults were heard.

as much as y/n wanted to stop the fight, she knew she couldn’t risk herself getting in. so, she hurriedly grabbed jay and the rest of hoon’s friends to break them apart. jay and heeseung held onto hoon, pulling him away as haechan and jaemin pulled jisung.

“don’t you ever be that rough with her again!” hoon yelled, wanting to send more punches towards the jackass.

y/n was near jay who held him back, worriedly scanning her roommates face as he had a few cuts on him.

“sunghoon, stop this! it’s jake’s party, don’t make it a bigger deal than it should be.” jay shouted, shaking hoon as his grip on his shoulder tightened to grab his attention.

sunghoon let out a regretful sigh, knowing that he most likely blew his friends party. “you’re right..” he mumbled, scrunching his face and turning to his side where his eyes finally met y/n’s after long days of avoidance. his heart thumped though his face was aching. his hand went to his stomach, trying to stop the pain that exuded from there.

“this is all just fucking bullshit,” jisung said, rolling his eyes as he still had some rage in him.

though he still wanted to fight more, haechan and jaemin convinced him to just leave; the two apologizing for his behavior to the enha members before leaving with him. y/n watched them go, not bothering to go after that asshole as she’d rather stay with him.

“ah shit..” hoon murmured, his hand clenching on his stomach in pain. “hey hey, you okay?” heeseung asked, his hand placing on hoon’s chest for support.

“yeah i just..” he stopped his words, struggling to get through them as he felt his body start bruising up.

jay quickly glanced at y/n. “you think you can take care of his wounds?” the sudden question shocked her. “me?” he nodded.

“shouldn’t we take him to a hospital?”

“he’s not that badly hurt, and i think he’d rather have you patch up his wounds than one of us.”

jay and heeseung sneaked in quiet laughs as hoon didn’t even have the energy to tell them to shut up. “you can patch him up in a room down the hall.” the silver haired boy confirmed.

y/n shook her head though. “no I’ll just.. uhm patch him up at home.”

with said, the two members let go of hoon as his arm wrapped around her neck and they left to home. the two enha members laughed to each other, mumbling little sayings of “he’s gonna get it tonight.”

the car ride was quiet the entire way though as she drove them home, both not wanting to say a word until they reached to their place.

as soon as they got there, she settled him onto the couch. “just stay there, i’ll bring the first aid kit in our bathroom.” she said, hearing a deep groan leave his mouth as the pain started to eat him up again. not too long after, she came back with the kit as promised and opened it up.

“let’s clean your face first… you have a lot of dried blood.” y/n spoke with disgust as his face scrunched in pain. “sit up,” and he did.

she first cleaned a part of his eyebrows that had blood drawn, a sharp and clean cut hit there when jisung’s rings got through his skin. she dabbed it with a part of an alcoholic wipe.

a hiss from sunghoon was made — “ow!” — his hands quickly held onto her arms for comfort. the grip he had on her tightened as his eyes screwed shut. “that fucking hurts,” he mumbled afterward, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth.

“well stop moving around then idiot.” she shot back, hands shaking a little from how close she was getting to him. after another few minutes of exaggerated groans from hoon, she finally finished up the first wound with a small bandaid on there.

“are we done yet?” he sighed, just wanting the night to end as he constantly felt his heart racing just from looking at her.

y/n slightly smiled. “no hoon, i still have to clean your mouth, and check your bruises.”

he threw his head back in frustration and she only giggled to herself about it, finding fun in how annoyed he was getting.

the girl turned to the first aid kit on her other side, hands fumbling through the box to find other alcohol wipes and bandaids. as she was turned, sunghoon’s eyes never left her presence. he kept his gaze on her, looking into how much she was caring for him. he was confused, his heart was pounding inside his chest from pain and joy in getting her all to himself.

“oh, here it is!” she exclaimed, head quickly whipping to hoon’s side that brought him out of his oblivion state. y/n turned back to him with more wipes and bandaids, excited to finally clean up the nasty blood mark around his mouth. as she opened the wipe and began to reach toward his mouth, hoon stopped her with the grab of her wrist.

her confused face almost caused a laugh to erupt from him, but he didn’t. “maybe i should just do it myself y/n..” he softly said, his eyes that met hers now became faint with assurance.

getting too close to his roommate like this didn’t feel like a good idea after all. if anything went further, he didn’t know how much he’d be able to control himself from wanting her. “don’t be ridiculous hoon, this is the least i should do for you.” she retracted, hands that were held by his still going in to wipe the blood.

he hissed at the feeling, letting his hand that held hers fall to his side as he just let her do it after all. every hiss was a pang to her heart, she couldn’t believe he did such a thing for her. her eyes always softened at his scrunched face that tried to uphold the alcohol burn.

“almost done.”

y/n continued to clean it up, wiping all the blood away as she felt his intense stare on her. she felt like her heart was gonna jump out of her from the constant pounding. “stop staring hoon…” she quietly said, still averting his eyes as hers gazed at his lips instead.

“sorry.. can’t help it…” sunghoon responded, taking a gulp afterward that was noticed by his favorite girl from his adams apple bobbing.

there was an urgent need to kiss him suddenly, to just taste the blood on his lips and let him hiss in the kiss from the pain. she wanted to give in, feeling everything in her body scream to just go for it as she tried holding back.

“you’re too close to me.” his low voice spoke, eyes still strong on hers as he observed her shutting her eyes from his words.

“fuck hoon…” her soft whisper was like honey in his ears, and he wanted to hear more. he wanted more but he restrained himself from doing further damage to their relationship.

with slow hesitation, y/n didn’t even realize it but her face had pushed itself closer to hoon’s; close to finally tasting his luscious lips. the sexual tension was kicking in, heat exuding everywhere as the simple act of their faces being close had them both weak.

“are you gonna clean my wound or just stare at it?” he whispered, a smirk being displayed as it straightened y/n up. she quickly pulled away, throwing the bloody wipe to the side while ripping open a bandaid. her body turned away from his again and he quickly scrunched his face from how close they were to kissing.

‘fuck.. i shouldn’t have asked that…’ he thought to himself, mentally face palming as he continued to watch her every move.

“let me check your cheek hoon, it looks pretty bruised.” she shakily said, ignoring his question and the obvious desire they both had as hands were already reaching for his slight purple-colored cheek.

gently, her hand held the pain and she observed it. sunghoon felt everything inside just basically heal from her one touch. he closed his eyes once more, reeling everything from the touch of her fingers. “you okay?” she softly spoke, eyes scanning through his face for a sort of confirmation from him.

he gave a half smile, heart exhilarating from the emotions he was having. “yeah.. thanks to you,” he said back with the same soft tone.

the girl’s face lit up at his words, eye smiles showing through as her thumb constantly left soft touches on the cheek.

“i’m not going back to him anymore. tonight was the last time i intended to be with him, that’s why he was yelling.” she suddenly said, her words catching him offguard. his eyes shot open — “you’re not gonna go back this time?”

she smiled at him even more. “no.. i didn’t want to deal with a jackass like him anymore.”

he only nodded in approval, feeling proud that his roommmate finally had the courage to leave him. “how do i know you won’t just go back on your words like always?” he softly questioned, hoping that he wasn’t too harsh with his words. y/n let out a light laugh as she continued to observe his bruised cheek.

“because…” she paused for a second before continuing, “not speaking to you for these past few days were more painful than it ever was to leave jisung. it made me realize that it was never gonna be him, but you.”

sunghoon tried to bite back from fully smiling as he let his adrenaline go wild. his heart thumped at the thought of how she was as much distress as he was when apart. “you can stop smiling like an idiot hoon,” she spoke as she stupidly smiled herself. his hand covered his face for a second, feeling shy while saying — “sorry, can’t help it. hearing that was just satisfying.”

“he did fuck you up pretty hard though,” she commented right after, letting a small breath of air that sounded like a laugh leave her throat as she watched in amusement of hoon’s reaction. his face fell blank, rolling his eyes and turning his head away. “can you not say that?” he jokingly replied while still trying to cool down from the confession. she let out a quiet “sorry” before the two continued to giggle with each other.

“you got bruised around your stomach didn’t you?” y/n asked right after, eyes growing with worry as her lips were still curled into a sweet smile. the 5’11 boy only nodded, his face looking down in a rush of embarrassment.

in sudden movement, she shifted around and found her legs to start straddling on both sides of hoon’s thighs. catching him offguard, he tried to form a sort of sentence with shock in his tone — “w..what are you doing?”

as she continued to try and comfortably settle herself on top of him, she only responded with, “i have to check your stomach for bruises, don’t i?”

indeed , the surge of confidence threw hoon off, but once he found it challenging, he gave a suggestive smirk and placed his hands on the back side of her thighs. he pulled her closer by a tug as he stayed careful to never lose eye contact with her.

“then check it,” he said with comfort.

so she did, hands shaking as they reached the hem of his shirt. was she really gonna do this?

y/n gulped, feeling a wave of nerves hit her. she knew sunghoon’s gaze was upon her, getting the sense of the heavy tension being built up while her fingers quietly fumed with the fabric of his shirt. after what seemed like eternity, her hands had atlas found the courage to lift it.

she paused for a second, immediately admiring his toned body that had been covered with purple colored marks. she heard him hiss a little as her hand slightly ghosted over the bruises. nothing the little touches become a seeping pain for him, she stopped her hands from going any further.

“does it hurt that bad?” the girl asked in a concerning manner, eyes starting to sparkle with light tears washing over.

sunghoon chuckled in return at her troubled state — “just a little, but don’t worry.. it’ll heal soon.” his hand then went to her cheek, pulling it up so that their eyes could meet like they’ve always been this entire night. “i’ll be okay,” he reassured.

y/n couldn’t help but grin a little, feeling her awoken heart heal from the comfort he gave.

his thumb retraced itself to her lips, softly rubbing it as he simply admired how gorgeous they looked. fuck, did he want to kiss her. he wanted to feel them on his and more.

✩ ‘maybe i just want to be yours’ ✩

as if she read his mind, she started to pull in closer to him, closing the gap between them while their chests came in contact. her hands found its place on his broad shoulders, thighs still on either side of his as she continued to stay on top of him. she stopped when their lips were close to touching, faintly ghosting over his as the sexual tension started to rise again. he pined for her, wanting to close the little gap they had and she did too. they both wanted it.

staying as each other’s roommates, they played with each other a little — pulling close and then pulling away when their lips would almost meet. it continued on like this before sunghoon felt the need to intervene — “maybe we shouldn’t y/n…”

she shut her eyes, gulping a harsh sigh as her lips pressed into a line afterward. her heart burned from the tormenting sensation.

“you just broke up with jisung,” he confirmed. hoon stayed soft with his eyes, careful to make sure she knew she wasn’t the problem.

“i want this as much as you do.” she whispered with a scratchy voice.

✩ ‘i wanna be yours’ ✩

he smiled at the words that sent a wave of joy to his heart. “i do too gorgeous,” he said, letting their heads quietly bump with each others right after. “you’ve had a long night though and you should get some rest.” sunghoon assured, watching y/n as she only nodded in agreement.

after a few more seconds of being in close contact, she pulled away; leaving his body and heading off for the night but not before hoon could send her away with a kiss on the forehead.

“sleep well,” he mumbled to her as she only smiled and said her good nights as well. he watched her leave — feeling the sudden, cold air hit as her high body temperature was no longer near his.

the poor boy threw his head back, sighing in loud defeat and exhaustion. “so close to kissing..” he mumbled to himself, throwing an arm over his eyes for eternal darkness. he stayed in that position for a moment, scrunching his face time to time while he ran through the highlights of the night in his head.

afterward, he decided it was time to sleep as well. sunghoon dragged his body to his room in tired eyes, finally giving in to the temptation of sleep.

sparks flew between the two and nobody could deny that, perhaps it even ignited more than just stupid tension always happening. the night ended there though; hoon and y/n quiet in their rooms as they stayed contemplating whether they should’ve kissed or not.

knowing it was better that she was in a contented state to kiss her, her roommate was glad to know that she was at least never going back to that asshole he wished he never called a friend. with that thought in mind, he was finally able to sleep soundlessly as y/n let herself fall asleep as well in the thought of her roommate, park sunghoon.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[sadhours]

gamer boyfriend with kurt

kurt x female reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), no use of y/n, awkward dirty talk, p in v (unprotected)

“Ya know, if you actually stream the gameplay and not just your face, people might watch,” you tell him as you sit back on the bed, plugging in your phone.

Kurt looks down at his lap and then back up at you, looks like he’s connecting the dots and you’re right. Like he’s never thought of that before. He pouts, “Yeah well maybe when the money from Spree gets to my bank, I’ll look into it.”

You huff, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can watch him. You have no idea what game he’s playing, video games aren’t really your thing. But it’s a bunch of dudes running around with guns. You’d have a better chance guessing if the games were listed on a board and you threw a dart at it. Who you think is Kurt’s character isn’t very good, though. The dudes running around in circles and not shooting. Gets shot several times in the few minutes you’re watching.

“Are you winning?” you ask, bored.

“No,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pick up your phone, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly when some porn pops up and out of curiosity, you don’t keep scrolling. An idea pops into your head and you reach your foot out to poke Kurt’s thigh. “I know how to get some attention online,” you purr.

“How?!” he asks excitedly, glancing briefly at you and then his eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking to my girlfriend, not you guys!” he screeches into the mic. Then his eyes roll, “Yes, she’s real.”

You giggle, stroking your foot up his thigh and back down. His cheeks flush as he continues in the mic, “We haven’t had a chance yet.” He sounds embarrassed and you can assume they’re asking if he’s slept with you, in not so nice words. And you two haven’t. Not for a lack of trying on your end. Hell, you would’ve blown him in his Spree the first time you met. Granted, you were drunk but you thought Kurt was cute and really, you would’ve invited him in if he wasn’t so awkward. So you left him your number on a napkin but he never called. And for about two weeks you wracked your brain trying to remember his instagram handle that he repeatedly rattled off to you and your drunken friends. They thought he was cringey but something about Kurt intrigued you. He was sweet. And really goddamn good looking under that mop of greasy hair and clothes his mom picked out for him.

She was really the reason you guys hadn’t done much more than rushed handjobs in his Prius. Kurt’s mom was… protective. Babied the hell out of Kurt. Treats him like a teenager and not a 23 year old man. The door has to stay open when you’re over. Like that would stop two adults from fooling around.

“We’re busy, I don’t know,” Kurt’s mumbling interrupts your thoughts. “No! She wants to. She definitely wants to.”

You get up from his bed and get yourself between his thighs, purring into the mic, “Oh, I really want to.”

Kurt’s face lights up, cheeks flushing as they swell with a bright smile. You giggle, and close his laptop, ending his stream. Something like this will get him banned, and you’re pretty sure he’d cry over it. He starts to protest, “Wait! What are you—“ it dies in his throat as you palm at his crotch over his pants.

His eyes roll back the harder you rub and yours glance up towards the door, making sure his mom isn’t being nosy. But she works a lot so when she gets home, she tends to pass out watching TV. You’re probably in the clear as long as Kurt keeps quiet. Your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper before grabbing his waistband and tugging his pants down. You can see the swell of his dick chubbing up in his briefs and you rub your nose against him, looking up to see his pretty, full lips falling open. He’s gripping the controller close to his chest and his eyes are on you. Sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Mouthing at his boner, you hook your fingers into his briefs and start pulling them down his thighs. Kurt’s impressive length flops out and rises with arousal, filling out quickly. Kurt hasn’t admitted he’s a virgin, but you’ve come to the conclusion he is. Which is a first for you and it’s exciting. The thought that you’ll be his first is intoxicating and has you soaking through your panties. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him slow and tight, mouth watering at the sight of it. His cocks huge. Pretty. Thick and long with a pink head and it gets wet. Never seen a man leak so much. You lick his slit, giddy when he whines and grips the Xbox controller tighter.

“Maybe I am,” he mumbles into the microphone and smirks and you laugh softly, squeezing his dick tighter. More precum bubbles out of his slit and you’re quick to lick it up.

“Tell them, Kurt,” you bite your lip, “Tell them what I’m doing.”

He looks shy, eyebrows raising as his cheeks ruddy even more, “She’s literally touching my dick right now.”

He whispers it, barely audible and you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking softly as you look up at him. Wide eyed. Kurt whines again and then says, “I’m not lying!”

“Shh,” you hush him when you pull off his dick, “We have to be quiet.”

“Sorry,” his eyes are so so sweet and apologetic. You need him. Can’t handle it anymore. You stand, pushing down your leggings and underwear before climbing into his lap. He grunts, looking at you all wide eyed and confused but it just spurs you on more. You’re almost feral for it. For him. For Kurt.

“Shh,” you repeat, “Need you, now.”

You grip his cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on him. You whine from it and Kurt moans, loud and shaky. Slapping your palm over his mouth, you look at him with wide eyes before looking over to the doorway.

“Kurt… keep it down, baby. Okay?” you whisper, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes. He nods, and you grab the controller, dropping it to the floor and guiding his hands to hold your waist. He grips you tightly, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb before lifting up and slowly lowering back down on him. Kurt looks amazed, eyes and mouth open in absolute awe. You build a slow and gently rhythm, wanting this to last at least five minutes.

You connect your lips to his, pushing the headphones off his head and they fall around his neck. Riding him steadily, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue along his lower lip. But Kurt’s Kurt so he doesn’t get it and you have to press your thumb to his chin and pull his mouth open. When you lick inside his mouth, he moans and digs his fingers into the small of your back. Thank God his cocks so long, it prods at your g-spot perfectly, hooked just right. You’re sure you can cum if you time it properly. So you kiss him filthier before picking up the pace, sucking on his tongue and licking against the roof of his mouth. Kurt’s completely falling apart, whimpering and messy. You bounce in his lap, adjusting the angle to ensure he’s slamming against your spongy bit just so.

His gaming chair squeaks under the weight, rhythmically mirroring your thrusts. You gasp, pulling back from the kiss and whispering in his ear, “Talk to me, baby. Make me me cum.”

“Oh!” he whines, “okay, uh… I’m fucking you. With my dick.”

It’s almost sweet and dorky enough to work, it makes you smile and you nod as you whisper back, “Yeah, baby. You are, your cock is so big. Filling me so deep, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “Filling your pussy up.”

“How’s my pussy feel, baby?” You coax him along, knitting your fingers in his hair, slowing your movements.

“Good. Really good,” he struggles to get stay quiet, voice wrecked and shaky, “It’s wet and so good.”

“Yeah?” you hum, kissing along his jaw, “You wanna cum in my pussy, baby?”

“I—fuck,” he grits out, wrapping his arms around your waist while he holds you still, spurts of hot cum shooting from him inside you.

Well, you tried. You nuzzle against him and repeatedly kiss his jaw as he rides out his bliss. “That’s it, Kurt. Fill me up.”

He lets out a pathetic sound, face all contorted as he thrusts his hips up at you. Then his arms fall to his sides while he lets out labored breaths. You keep kissing his face and stroking his hair.

“Let’s go to mine. And we can do that some more,” you say and Kurt laughs, full of excitement and disbelief.

[railingsofsorrow]

Request for John b (obx): female reader has been struggling with her insecurities, JB doesn't know about that. When JB finds out he helps her through it.

drifting

summary: john b reassures reader during an odd day

pairing: john b routledge x f!reader

w.c: 1K

warnings/content: self worth issues; discussions about not being good enough; isolation (hinted); dissociation (mentioned); drowning (mentioned, just a metaphor!!); hurt/comfort, fluff!

a/n: hey heeey I was craving for an obx request, enjoy it!

navi

masterpost

obx masterlist

request me something

[requested]

━━━━━━━━━

“hi.”

the sunset loses your attention for a moment as soon as your boyfriend announces his arrival, sitting down by your side in the sand.

“hey.” you straighten your back a bit, placing your arms as support so you can lean back and stretch your legs. you've been in your own bubble, not realizing that your arms wrapped around your knees wasn't such a comfortable position to be for too long.

your toes dive in the sand as it seems that you have finally come back to yourself. you admit you've been closed off today, sometimes you get in over your head that you don't notice your mind is pulling you down with the current and you need to swim in the opposite direction.

it's hard.

but you came back to yourself.

“fancy seeing you here.” john b's tone causes a snicker to escape you and you slap his arm because of how ridiculous that was.

“please don't make a fool out of yourself. you don't have game.”

“i don't... I don't have game?” the disbelief in his eyes is half truth and half acceptance. “i got you to be my girlfriend with my undeniable charm—”

“eh.”

“eh?”

you hold back a grin, trying to uphold to your little banter. you brain suddenly letting you live the moment without crushing your mood.

“i have a little game, admit it.” he says, leaning towards you, one of his legs is placed on top of yours as he adjusts to be closer. an arm around your shoulders and a kiss to your temple tell you your banter is over.

you lean into him and your eyes drift back to the horizon. the sky's darker and the water remained calm.

“drifting?”

you made an agreement a few years back.

when any of you had a bad day, head filled with too much crap from life, you'd drift. at least that's what the two of you call it.

drifting, in this sense, means space out, get lost in your thoughts, curling up to yourself and to the bothersome thoughts inside your mind.

you didn't swim in the other direction today. not for a while. until now.

there was no point in trying to lie to john b., he knows you better than anyone. “a little bit.”

“want me to help you swim back to shore?”

your smile is instantaneous. with your head resting against his shoulder, you interlace your fingers, running a thumb over the back of his hand.

“you already did, baby.”

his cheek rests against the crown of your head. “but I just got here.”

“exactly.”

he lets out a soft hum, joining you in your sunset watch. you stay there in that peaceful moment for maybe an hour before he looks up at you, fingers twitching to touch the tip of your nose.

your eyes flutter open in confusion, leaning back as his fingers seek your nose again. “it's so cute.”

“shut up, routledge.” you try to hide your blush by pulling gently at his light brown strands enough to cover his eyes. his body shakes with a chuckle and his head tilts to the side, mouth hovering over your skin as he glances up at you, big brown puppy eyes staring into your soul as if he knows all the secrets you are keeping.

“you belong here, you know that right?”

your lips pull into a thin line.

why does he know you so well?

“yeah.” john b offers you a skeptical look and you huff out a self deprecating laugh, running your fingers through his messy hair. “look, it's just the day, alright? I'll snap out of it.”

“no, no, no,” he says, sitting up and shaking his head. he sits right in front of you, holding your face between his hands. “hey, do not invalidate your feelings. I don't want you to snap out of it, I just want you to understand that we want you here and you're not invading my life of theirs with your presence.”

your shoulders slump as he figured out. you hate that he can notice because it happened before. that feeling of being a burden as you walk in the room, taking up space that shouldn't be yours.

you should take up space, your therapist said once, you're allowed to.

but sometimes it is just hard to swim against the current.

“okay?” he nuzzles your nose against yours, earning a soft smile from you that you weren't able to hold back. “i love you. a lot.”

if there is anything that you learned with your boyfriend, is that it isn't impossible to come back to shore after you drift. yeah, it's annoying when you're pulled unannounced with these thoughts that just cause you to drown in self doubt. but you'd make it. you always do.

“love you too.” you say, kissing his neck and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“where the fuck is your board!” jj maybank's voice interrupts your peaceful moment with his shriek of indignation. he walks towards you, purposely wetting the two of you with his damp hair as he just had left the sea. “stop macking on each other and come surf!”

“jayj!” kiara scolds him, pulling him back to where he came from with a light shove. “leave them alone.”

but it went in on deaf ears as he kisses her cheek and promptly spins around to run towards where you and john b were sitting. you let out a yelp as he throws you over his shoulder and runs back towards the water.

“you bitch!”

“that's the spirit.” jj laughs, trying to swim away from your raging form. “c'mon kie, bring john b and pope and let's go!”

you successfully pulls him under the water as he gets distracted and a roar of laughs echoes over the sand. you watch your boyfriend, kiara and pope enter the water not long after, joining you and jj, who's dramatically begging to be saved by his girlfriend, earning a fond roll of eyes from kiara.

you find yourself swimming in tranquility with your friends around you. your thoughts wouldn't be helpful all the time, nothing is perfect, but you are able to shove the dark thoughts away for now. it's all that matters.

━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @hoeshissworld

[bloody-cupcakes]

Jd x yandere male r with a corruption kink 🙏🙏

Okay it can't be just me who loves the idea of a reader who's somehow more perverted and insane than a character who's already perverted and insane

Also when I tell you this is the MOST FILTHY thing I've written so far for this account I mean it

Tw: yandere/dark content, male reader, smut/nsfw, blowjob/oral sex (reader receiving), brief dacryphilia, degrading, hair pulling, facial, cum eating, dubcon-ish in some areas (all of this is JD receiving btw), could be seen as a toxic relationship but that's a given considering the content

When you and JD first met, he was already into some dark stuff, but he could never imagine the absolutely filthy things you'd end up getting him into. In his defense, you didn't immediately come off as the nasty pervert you ended up being.

"Come on, baby, just let me cum on your face this one time," you begged as he knelt down on the floor in front of you, unable to answer due to your cock being in his mouth.

He let out a garbled response, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and spilling down his cheeks. You had no idea if that was a yes or a no, but it didn't matter. You planned on doing it regardless.

"God, you're so pathetic. I mean, just look at you." Your hand reached down and gripped his hair, yanking his head back in a position where your cock was shoved even further down his throat as a result.

A strangled whimper could be heard coming from him, a sound that made you grin with utter delight. Despite his slight discomfort, he did his best to keep sucking like the good boy that he was.

"There you go, that's better." You let out a grunt as you felt his tongue brush against your length. "You're such a natural, are you sure you haven't done this before with men other than just me?"

The bright shade of red his face turned at your question was priceless. It kind of made you wish you had a camera to capture the moment. He was struggling to catch his breath, even after you told him time and time again to breath through his nose.

Luckily for him, you were close to finishing anyway, so you pulled your cock out of his mouth and came all over the lower half of his face. Not wanting to give him the opportunity to move away, you tightened your hand's grip in his hair and kept him still until you were done.

He stared up at you with a look of embarrassment on his face that was only partially hidden by the white, sticky substance you'd left there. "I didn't want you to cum on my face," he mumbled in a indignant manner, his lips curled downwards into a slight frown.

"Oh, grow up. You really didn't think I was going to give up on the opportunity to paint your pretty little face with my cum, now did you?" Your tone was condescending, as if you were speaking to nothing more than a bratty child.

"Besides, I know how much you love it when I treat you like the pitiful little whore that you are. You might have everyone else fooled, but I don't buy your tough 'bad boy' act for even a second."

You smirked at the way he simply pouted in response, unable to think of a good enough comeback. While he was caught up in his own thoughts, you reached your hand out and swiped some of the cum still on his face onto your fingers. "Open," you commanded as you held them in front of his lips.

JD opened his mouth and licked off the cum despite himself, his hazel eyes glaring at you in a displeased and bratty manner as he did. You merely watched, not put off or intimidated by him in the slightest.

Even if he did decide to complain about it afterwards, you had a few tricks up your sleeve that you were certain would quickly shut him up.

[idyllcy]

pov ur therapy is doom shopping - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #1)

The world stops for no one.

You drum your fingers against the marble of your kitchen island, browsing through online shops while you're supposed to be working on your paper, humming to yourself as the rain outside your window drums erratically against the glass. It's far too late for you to be awake, but you're also waiting for someone to get home. You wonder why he had picked such an early patrol time for once. It wasn't common for him to be back before two.

"The rain is terrible." Tim sighs, window opening as he slides in, unclasping his boots and cape, locking the window as he turns on the tint. "You alright?"

You hum at him, continuing with your shopping. 

"Whatcha looking at?" He peels off his suit, dropping it down the chute as it lands with a thud, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he stares at your screen.

"Doom shopping?"

"The day's been slow."

"I figured." He hums. "It's why I took an early shift."

"You seem to know me a little too well." You mumble, no real malice behind your words, clicking add to cart. 

"Isn't it nice?"

"I suppose." You scroll through your cart, blinking twice before closing your laptop. "How was patrol?"

"You don't need to fill in the silence, you know?" He squeezes you, carrying you in his arms as he tells you about patrol anyway. You need time off from your mind, and he's more than willing to help you out. You'd have a higher chance of being better in the morning than anything else. "So? What did you do while I was out?"

"I put the dishes in the dishwasher." You hum. "Not to dry. To wash. I think we officially have enough dishes to use the dishwasher instead of handwashing."

"Mhm?"

"And I also made some steamed egg." You shift slightly in his arms as he reaches to open the bedroom door. 

"Did you save me some?"

"Yeah." You yawn. "Middle section of the upper fridge. If you want anything else, there's quite a couple of things in the freezer. I think we need to eat the costco mac n cheese soon."

Tim laughs. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. Also, I was looking through my photos that I got before my gramps passed..."

"Were you thinking about him?"

"I was." You close your eyes as he sets you down on the bed. "I think that's why I'm so down right now."

"Yeah. I feel that." He mumbles. "I'll shower and then we can get to bed, alright? Feel free to keep browsing. The tablet is charged."

"Alright." 

Tim finds that taking care of you is no big deal no matter how tired he is. It's as easy to take care of you as it is to breathe, and even with the ring on your ear and the band on your finger, he finds that it has only gotten easier to be your other half. He's sure you would say the same, your ring never leaving your finger even while resting — never gone even when he's bloody from the worse days of patrol. The dirt and grime slide down his body as he washes, bathroom door opening as you move to sit in the tub to be by him.

"You alright?"

The lack of response and comfortable silence tells Tim all he needs to know.

"Did you see the new video from Bernard?"

"The one detailing Nightwing as a vampire?"

"Yeah."

"I did." You hum.

"Thoughts?"

"Found it funny. He used one of my photosets from April Fools years back as evidence and I thought I was going to lose my mind." You hum. "Do you think the study could fit a couple more blind boxes?"

"I'm sure it can... somehow. We can always layer the figures." Tim reaches for face wash. "Oh, right. I saw your serum was low. Do you need more?"

"I went over my spending limit for the month, so next month." You mumble. "What do you think about a custom figure?"

"You'd have to be filthy rich for that, no?" He pauses. "Wait. Pretty bird. Why do you have a limit if my credit card never maxes out—"

"Well, aren't you filthy rich?" You raise a brow. "What if you divorce me one day?"

"I am." Tim agrees, closing his mouth to wash his face. "That's not happening. Shoo. You'll put me in my grave before I let you get away from me."

"Then, we can afford it." You hum. "Well, might as well spend the money. Considering that we don't want kids and all." You choose to ignore his words.

"I can't believe your mom is still pestering me to change your mind." Tim sighs. "What gene do they want to continue down the bloodline? Your brain?"

"Your brain, birdie." You chuckle. "You're rich, smart, and other than..."

"Hey, don't bring my height into this!" Tim gasps. "Rude." 

"Hey, I didn't say shit." You grumble. "You know damn well your family has a tall gene."

"I might kill you." 

"That'd align perfectly with my interests." You blow a raspberry at him through the glass.

"Regardless, I told her she's getting no grandchildren. Told her I'm sterile."

You cough, laugh stuck in your chest as you gasp for air, wheezing in the process.

"You alright, pretty bird?"

"I just lost it, sorry." You cough, trying to get the words out. "You are NOT sterile."

"That vasectomy says otherwise."

"That makes you infertile!"

"Yeah, but if I tell her I'm infertile, she might tell me that we could always do IVF."

"Evil..." You mumble.

"I know." Tim grumbles. "Well, regardless," he turns the water off, "might as well spend money on the things that matter?"

"Which is?"

"My wife's retail therapy." Tim grins, robe wrapped around his body as he opens his arms for you. "Hm?"

"I don't know, birdie." You pretend to think. "Sounds like a lot of money you're spending there."

"Well, it's all worth it. Happy wife, happy life. happy spouse, happy house." He hums. "As long as you're smiling, then it made all of that nonsensical pining I went through when I first met you in person worth it."

"Yeah?"

"Positive." He grins.

"You've become real sappy, you know?"

"And you don't like it?"

"Mm..." You pinch his cheek as he reaches over you to shut the lights. "No. I do."

"I know you do." He pinches your cheek back. "It's why you married me."

"Maybe I married you for your bank account."

Tim pretends to gasp in offense, jaw dropped. "You couldn't have."

You go quiet, Tim reaching over to pinch your cheek again as you bite his fingers.

"Hey!"

You stick your tongue out at him with a 'blegh' and he huffs. 

"Nighty night, pretty bird."

"Love you too, birdie."

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part III

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you are found out. Chapter Warnings: Making out, a little bit of groping, teasing, fingering, Loki being a horrendous tease.

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

It’s difficult to return to your life the next day.

You try to be pragmatic about it: you’ve told yourself over and over that what had happened in the garden was a fluke, a once in a lifetime bout of extraordinariness that would not—could not—be repeated. You know this and you accept it.

But the magic of last night lingers in a way that makes you feel a little melancholy and wistful. You’re distracted the whole day, your thoughts wandering back to the feeling of soft lips on yours, warm hands on your waist, the glimmer of emerald green eyes.

“Are you well?” Grete asks you that afternoon. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

You force a smile. “I didn’t sleep well,” you say, which isn’t exactly a lie, but also isn’t the full truth. Either way, it’s enough to fool Grete, who returns to her work, chattering about something that happened with Solvi and one of the stablehands.

Even if she wasn’t a gossip, you could never tell Grete what happened in the garden. You could never tell anyone. A sudden, lonely feeling rears its head and there’s an ache in the center of your chest. You’re used to being lonely, but this feels different, sharper in a way you’re not expecting.

It doesn’t seem like it should be possible to miss a life that you never had, but you find yourself consumed with that notion.

Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t gone at all.

You don’t go to the library that night. It’s largely because you don’t want to risk the chance of him recognizing you so close to the masquerade. The more time between you and the masquerade, the better: better that you fade from his memory rather than inadvertently jog it

But it’s also because you’re not sure that you can bear to be in the same room as him when you’re feeling like this. Better to wait until your heart felt a little less tender.

You avoid the library for six days. On the seventh day, you decide that you’ve waited long enough to return. 

In hindsight, though, it was the height of hubris to think that you could pull one over on the god of mischief and lies.

In making this bargain with Loki, you were making several assumptions. You had assumed that his memory was imperfect enough to not recognize you without your mask and that your very dull and ordinary life had such a vise grip on you that no force—not even the attention of a handsome and clever prince—could possibly disrupt it.

How very wrong you were.

You’re initially quite relieved when you don’t see him in his usual chair. You’ll be able to fully enjoy yourself without worrying about looking over your shoulder as you wander through the stacks.

You’re feeling rather pleased with yourself and a little giddy with relief and you’re not exactly paying attention as you round a corner in the stacks, a fact that becomes apparent to you when you crash into something rather warm and solid. Hands grab your elbows to keep you from falling and you look up, your mouth half open in an apology.

It is at this point that you begin to process that the warm and solid thing that you’ve bumped into is, in fact, a person.

More specifically: it’s Loki.

For a moment, you think you might be able to wiggle your way out of this particular snag without any problem. But then he locks eyes with you and you immediately, instinctively know that it’s too late: he knows exactly who you are.

His smile is wide and sharp. Predatory—but not in an unappealing way. “Hello, little mouse.”

Your mouth is paper dry and suddenly your legs feel too unsteady to even attempt a clumsy curtsy.

“Your highness, I—” You’re struggling to string a pair of words together and this is made all the more difficult by the fact that he hasn’t let go of you. “Forgive me,” you say, “I can explain.” 

You are not entirely sure that you can, to be quite honest, but it seems like the right thing to say.

“You can explain why you thought it clever to lie to your prince?” he says lightly, his voice rich with mirth. He doesn’t look angry—on the contrary, he seems amused. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“Nothing I said was a lie,” you say. “I only did not tell you who I was.”

“Clever girl,” he says. His voice is low and intimate and it’s doing something delicious to your insides, even as your heart threatens to pound its way out of your chest. “Tell me,” he says, “how does a servant come to be so clever as to read Auber and sneak into libraries and fool princes at masquerades?”

“Perhaps I was not always a servant,” you say and then, before you can stop yourself, you add, “And at any rate, I don’t read Auber when I can avoid him. I’m a sensible person, after all.”

It’s an impertinent thing to say and you’re already in enough trouble as it is. But Loki merely chuckles.

“You have a wicked tongue, my dear,” he says with a catlike smile. “That will get you into trouble someday.”

“One could argue it already has,” you say before you can think better of it.

“Indeed,” he says and his eyes glitter like the edge of a knife. “And now that I’ve found you, I believe you made me a promise.” 

You almost want to laugh. The very notion of him still wanting to kiss you is several different kinds of absurd. “Surely you don’t intend to carry on with that game now that you know who I am,” you say.

There again is the catlike smile. “On the contrary, I quite enjoy our merry little chase and I intend to continue it now that I’ve found you.”

“I’m beneath you.”

He gives you a wicked grin. “I’d rather like you to be.”

You’re confronted with two opposing feelings. You can’t deny that you’re flattered: he’s handsome and you’re wildly attracted to him despite the fact that it’s inconvenient, to say the very least. But at the same time, you’re not about to just cede all power to him just because you’re flattered. At the end of the day, he’s a prince and you’re a servant—you won’t let him take advantage of that imbalance.

“I won’t be your conquest of the week,” you say sharply, using a tone that most would consider inappropriate for addressing someone of his status. “I’m some toy you can play with and discard when you tire of me.”

You expect him to reprimand you, to remind you of your place, but instead he laughs. The sound surprises you, even as it does shameful things to your insides. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says.

You’re skeptical of this and your expression shows it. He registers this and he becomes a bit more serious. “Darling,” he says, placing his hands on the shelves behind you and casually cageing you in, “I’m not letting you go that easily. You have my undivided attention.”

The prospect of receiving his undivided attention sends a shiver up your spine—it’s as intimidating as it is appealing.

“Now,” he says, his voice lowering as his fingertips graze the curve of your jaw, “I’d like to collect on a promise.”

Your breath stutters in your throat as both of his hands cup your cheeks. He looks down at you, his eyes hooded and focused on your lips. He waits one long, agonizing moment, and you remind yourself to breathe and forget the instruction a moment later when his lips brush lightly against yours. Were it not for the heavy, coiling heat he was summoning in your hips, it would almost seem chaste. You feel him take a breath and then his mouth is opening against yours, his tongue tracing your lower lip and then sliding smoothly past it.

That last kiss was supposed to last you a lifetime—you were not expecting another one ever, let alone so soon. You feel drunk on the taste of his lips and his tongue has you thinking wicked thoughts. The longer it goes on, the more your knees wobble and the more breathless you feel.

You catch his lower lip between your teeth and tug on it gently; he inhales sharply and presses against you like he has half a mind to take you right there up against the stacks and stars above, you can’t help but want that just a little. 

His thigh slots between your legs and your body sings as you arch against him.

Maybe you want that a lot.

His hands have moved from your cheeks to your waist, pressing you against him, stroking up your back and sides. His thumb barely grazes the underside of one of your breasts and a low whimper escapes the back of your throat.

You lose all sense of time and it feels far too soon when he pulls away from you, even though you can hear the clock chiming midnight. You find that you’re rather gratified and proud of the slight redness in his cheeks, how his breathing is slightly labored. You grip the shelf behind you, knees trembling.

He licks his lips as he surveys you. “This isn’t over, little mouse,” he murmurs.

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss him or scold him. “What do you mean by that?”

He smirks. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves the library, leaving your head spinning.

You return to the library the next night. There is no reason for this—or, rather, there’s no good reason for this; while you’re enjoying your book well enough, you can’t say that it’s compelling to the point of interrupting your thoughts.

There are other reasons that have been, though.

Well. One reason, if you’re being honest.

Your feet take you to your usual place in the stacks, you find your latest book, but your mind is elsewhere, listening for the telltale tap of a booted foot on the stone floor, the creak of leather.

If someone were to ask you what you were expecting, you wouldn’t know what to say. Obviously, you’re hoping to see him again—and as much as you know it’s not a good idea, you’re also hoping that he’ll kiss you. You’re hesitant to allow yourself to think much farther than that, simply because the fact that he wants to kiss you still seems rather impossible. You learned early on in your days at the palace that daydreaming was almost certain to lead to disappointment. You’re reluctant to allow your mind to stray too far down that path.

It’s easier said than done, though.

You’re not exactly sure how he arrives, just that he suddenly has—there is a presence behind you and when you breathe in deeply, you swear you can catch the faint scent of leather and something wintery and masculine.

“Your highness,” you say coolly, like you haven’t been waiting for him with bated breath.

“Are you really enjoying your book that much?” he says and you have to force yourself not to jump when his voice is much, much closer than you thought he was. 

“It’s not Auber, so yes, I should say I am enjoying it,” you say before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver up your spine. “Always so sharp tongued.”

You force yourself to turn around then and stars , he is so much closer than you thought. You tilt your chin up to look at him. “Why are you here?”

His smile is wide, like he finds you especially amusing. “I am often here late at night. You know this.”

“You do not usually loom over me in the stacks,” you say.

His eyebrows lift. “Is that what I’m doing? Looming?”

“You are standing awfully close.”

Any other person might take a step back: he takes a step closer so that your back is pressed against the shelves, lowering his head so that his lips are right next to your ear. “Perhaps I’m looking for a book,” he says.

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

He laughs and you feel his breath warm on your neck. “Clever girl.” His lips brush against your collarbone, his teeth nipping lightly at the delicate skin there.

“I don’t understand,” you say, even as your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his embrace. “I’m no one—why are you here?”

“Did I not tell you this wasn’t over?” he says against your neck, allowing his tongue to dip into the hollow of your collarbone, making your knees weak.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you say, but it doesn’t matter because he’s now covering your mouth with his and you can scarcely remember your own name, let alone what you were going to say next. He’s demanding and hungry, one hand tipping your head back, cupping the curve of your jaw, the other sliding to your waist, pressing you flush against him.

You’re not entirely sure what his motivations are or how far he intends to take this, but it’s hard to convince yourself to care when he’s kissing you like this. Fire is racing through your veins, filling you with a kind of reckless wanting that makes your toes curl in your shoes.

His hand slides from your waist, skimming up your side to cup your breast over your dress. He is cautious, seeming to wait for your muffled moan before taking it more firmly in his hand, expertly kneading and squeezing in just the right way until you’re half considering guiding his hand down the front of your dress.

It’s at this precise moment that he steps back from you, his dark pupils and the slight catch in his breath the only indication that you’d exchanged anything more than polite pleasantries. You lean against the shelves panting, your entire body crackling with a strange kind of heat.

“Goodnight,” he says, seemingly unable to resist a smirk as he leaves you once again in the darkness of the library as the clock strikes midnight.

He’s playing a game with you. That much is clear. You’d like to think that you’re sensible enough to know not to take his bait, to stay away from the library after dark, but you appear to be mistaken on that count. You spend most of the next day trying to keep your treacherous mind from wandering too far. You are only moderately successful—you nearly burn an entire batch of biscuits due to a particular daydream that leaves you staring out a window for a minute too long.

He’s waiting for you in the stacks this time, giving you the same smirk he did last night when he left you. You decide to keep your distance for the time being—you’re not sure that you can ever say that you've got the upper hand on him, but you’re more likely to have a chance at it the farther away he is.

“Your highness,” you say.

“My lady.”

You give him a stern look. “You needn’t mock me, I know I’ve no titles.”

“Oh, I’m not mocking you, sweet,” he says and you are fairly certain he’s being sincere. “You are an impressive woman. You ought to have titles.”

“You’re trying to flatter me,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

“Of course I am. Did I not tell you that I was trying to charm you?” he says, taking a step toward you.

You swallow and stare at him. “You said that when you thought I was someone else.”

Another step. “You seem to think that I ought to have lost interest when I found out who you are. Why is that?”

You tilt your chin up and stare at him defiantly. “When has a noble ever taken a genuine interest in a servant? It’s not done.”

He smirks again and takes another step forward and once again, you’re pressed between him and the bookshelf. “You know my reputation,” he says, his fingertips trailing against your throat. “I care very little for rules.”

His gaze meanders over your face, lingering on your lips, but you hold steady, despite your pounding heart. “So you’re using me to disrupt things because it amuses you.”

“You misunderstand me,” he says, the backs of his fingers stroking your cheek. “I find you enticing. I’m not inclined to be bothered by rules that say I ought not to because it isn’t done.”

You press your lips together and look at him warily. “I don’t know that I should trust you.”

He shouldn’t look like he finds this amusing, but his eyes glitter in the dim light. “And why is that?”

“I know your reputation,” you say. “You are the god of mischief and lies. I ought to stay away from you.”

“And yet, you’ve turned up here for the last three nights and uttered not a word of protest when I’ve kissed you,” he says.

“I said I ought to stay away,” you say. “I never said I would.”

His smile is slow. “Clever girl.”

He kisses you again, slow to start, like he’s giving you an opportunity to turn him away. When you don’t, his movements become hungrier, his tongue tangling with yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

His hand slips down the front of your dress and you gasp as his fingers pinch and tease your nipple into a stiff and aching point, igniting a smoldering ache between your legs. You’ve never wanted anyone like this and you resolve in that moment not to say so because telling him is the same as giving him leverage and you’re still fairly certain that that is a bad idea.

His thigh has nudged its way between your legs and you press against him as much as your skirts will allow, shamelessly trying to generate enough friction and pressure to provide yourself some relief.

The clock chimes midnight and he steps away and you wonder how much more of this you’ll be able to take.

He’s late the next night—so late, in fact, that you almost give up and leave because you think he’s not coming. You try not to dwell upon the disappointed little twinge that blooms in your chest when you think this is the case.

But then you hear soft footsteps in the quiet of the library and you look up and find him leaning against the end of the stacks, looking far more comfortable than he has any right to be.

“You’re late,” you say before you can think about it.

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” he asks with the slightest of smirks. “Were you disappointed?”

You attempt to keep your expression cool and composed. “I didn’t think anything.”

He chuckles. “You tell such pretty lies, my dear.”

You want to deny it outright, but that feels like playing right into his hands. You consider your next moves as he approaches you, again backing you up against the stacks.

“Do you know what I think?” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I think you’re rather fond of these little interludes.” He tilts his head to the side, eyes glinting with a kind of mischief that makes you press your thighs together. “Shall we find out how fond?”

You’re fairly certain you know what he’s implying, but you’re also fairly certain that he’s not going to actually go through with it. It’s one thing to kiss you like he has been, but it’s another thing entirely to actually touch you. Surely he’s not that bold.

His left hand slides from your hip over the curve of your ass and then along your thigh, raising your leg to hook around his waist. You grab his shoulders, still certain that he’s bluffing even as he pushes the hem of your skirt up.

His hand trails along the inside of your thigh, expertly navigating your petticoats and undergarments. He watches your face intently as his hand inches up your thigh, seemingly cataloging every time your breath hitches, every time you bite your lip in anticipation. You try to keep yourself contained and calm, even as you can feel the slickness between your thighs growing with every passing second.

You realize that he’s not bluffing precisely when his fingers part your dripping sex. You gasp as his fingers lightly brush against your clit and you catch his greedy, triumphant smile as your head tips back against the shelf.

“Oh yes,” he breathes, sliding one finger inside you as his thumb presses against your swollen clit. “What filthy thoughts have left you so wet and wanting, my pretty little kitchen maid?”

This should bother you: you’re not his and you’re more than a kitchen maid. Instead, your body seems focused on its mission to betray you, as his words only make you whimper and tense around his slowly thrusting finger.

“I could make you come right here,” he says, his eyes raking over your body with a raw hunger. “Would you like that?”

“Please,” leaves your lips before you can ask yourself what you’re thinking.

“So polite,” he breathes into your ear. “Had I known it was this easy to tame that sharp tongue of yours, I would have buried my face between your thighs in the garden.”

Your cheeks burn, though you’re not sure if it’s from his fingers or his words. “I would not claim that victory yet, highness.”

His eyes flash and his hips press against you when you use his title—you file that little fact away for later. 

You can’t even pretend that there’s not going to be a later.

“If my hand slowed, you would beg for me,” he says with a smirk that is slightly too self-assured.

You tilt your chin up, staring at him defiantly. “You flatter yourself.”

His smirk widens as his hand slows and you immediately regret challenging him. He slides his hand away from you, holding your gaze. He pauses for a beat and when you continue your silence, he raises his fingers to his lips and slowly draws them into his mouth. You catch a glimpse of the pink tip of his tongue as he carefully licks your essence from his forefinger and thumb, closing his eyes like he’s tasting something divine. It’s indecent—everything about this is indecent—but you can’t look away.

Your resolve crumbles abruptly and completely. ���Please,” you whisper.

He releases his fingers and gives you a lazy smile. “Can you be quiet like a good girl?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

He leans in and kisses you. “That’s a shame,” he murmurs against your lips, “because I want to hear you scream for me. And we can’t very well do that in the library.”

He draws back, smirking, and you suddenly know that you’ve lost another point in this strange game that you’re playing.

“Come to my chambers tomorrow night after dark,” he says. 

Stars above, you’re going to kill him.

“You’re an ass,” you say.

He chuckles and kisses you again. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”

You hate how much of an effect that has on you, but you’re reasonably certain that you’ve managed to hide most of that from him.

“Your confidence is inspiring,” you say.

“And your tongue is wicked,” he says, stepping away from you and it takes every ounce of pride you have not to reach for him and pull him back to you. He takes your hand and brushes his lips against your knuckles, his emerald eyes never leaving yours and somehow it feels just as intimate as what had just happened. “Until tomorrow,” he says before dropping your hand and walking away, leaving you with your heart pounding.

Next chapter

[avocado-writing]

Hi bestie. I would love some angst with Astarion and Tav(reader) where a shape changer turns into one of them to hurt the other and the aftermath of the hurt and the victim convinced it was real until they talk it through and make up? Sorry if that didnt really make sense

notes: none! just some angst set start of act 3. rating: T

pairing: Astarion x reader

You have a horrid feeling in the pit of your stomach as Astarion appears before you. Withers senses something in the air, something loaded, and decides to turn and count his coin; he doesn’t want to interrupt what’s about to come. 

Or more likely he doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. 

The way Astarion is staring at you… gods. You feel a tight grip in your chest as a thousand emotions flit over his face. Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Confusion. Before you can open your mouth he shoves past you, making a beeline for his tent. 

“Astarion, wait - !”

He doesn’t, so you have to jog a little to keep up. Go to put a hand on his arm, think better of it. Don’t want to upset him any further with unwanted physical touch. 

“Please - ”

“Oh, now you want to talk? Suddenly changed your mind after treating me like a bloody pincushion? I thought you were…” he trails off for a second, before finishing with, “I’ve got nothing to say to you,” he sneers, eyes solidly focussed in front of him, acting as if you weren’t even there. 

That stings. But of course he’s angry, he doesn’t know the whole story. You battle through the hurt and manage to stand in front of him, blocking his path and finally getting him to meet your gaze. 

“It wasn’t me! It was a gods-damned Doppelganger!”

He stops. Good. That got his attention.  

Your mind flits back to the other night, the horrid scene as your adventuring party for the day made it back to camp, when you figured all your companions were asleep - a horrid, faux-copy of you with a deadly blade sunk deep into your vampire’s neck. Given the secluded nature of the spot, the “two of you” may have been in the middle of a private moment. He was ripped open from several stab wounds, pale body bathed in garnet blood, and after a loud fight woke the rest of the camp… 

Well. After that everyone worked on bringing him back as quickly as possible, even though you were shaking from shock and sobs. 

Astarion searches your face. He’s looking for a tell. He’s looking for the slightest indication that you actually were the one tearing him to pieces. You want to tell him how stupid that is. Of course you’d never hurt him, change your mind and try to dispose of him in the worst way you could (and if you did, why bring him back?) You’d hoped he’d trusted you more than that. But, being in Baldur’s Gate, with Cazador so close… well, it’s no wonder that nerves are frayed. Logic has gone out the window until he can be forced to hear it.

“It must have been Orin. You know how she’s been hounding us. She probably saw how close we were, and decided to… well, try to hit us where it would hurt. And I hate it. I hate that she used my body to trick you like that.”

Ah. That he understands. You can see Astarion turn this over in his mind, and with a small exhale he releases all the tension in his body. The obvious relief is quickly plastered over with a light laugh and the affectation of his usual laissez-faire attitude. 

“Oh. Well. Don’t I look like quite the fool, hmm? You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass of you and… well, I’d say me, but usually that’s usually a rather difficult accomplishment.”

He’s trying to hide how genuinely hurt he was. The idea that you could turn on him broke him a little, you think. That you’d use him and discard him so casually… it breaks your heart. Carefully you reach out to take his hand. You feel him flinch just a tiny bit but he accepts the gesture. 

“I’m so sorry she got to you. I won’t let it happen again. I’d never, ever hurt you, Astarion. You know that I…”

The end of that sentence hangs between you, heavy, pregnant. But thankfully, rather than chasing the end of it, Astarion pulls you to him. His arms wrap around you and you feel the softness in his embrace. 

“I know. I know you do.”

And you hold him. Knowing you’d move the cosmos to keep him safe. 

[campingwiththecharmings]

Honey Trap

AN: Fifth fic for @moonknight-events’ MK Bingo! This is probably a little silly (and likely not very well-written) but it was fun to come up with and write so irdc lol 😌 Hope someone other than me enjoys this!

You stumble across Marc while he's camping in a remote part of the woods and he's (understandably) suspicious of you.

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, you've been warned) Prompt: Hiking Words: 2,427 Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader Warnings: references to death, attempted murder, knives, frottage, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Marc doesn’t trust you. 

Your story about wandering off trail and getting lost was plausible, sure, and you looked harmless enough, but he'd been around long enough to know that looks can be deceiving. 

Still, what was he to do? If you really were telling him the truth, you needed help. He couldn’t just let you wander around alone in the dark. What if something happened? What if you got injured, or worse, killed? No, better to assume the risk, to give you the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it certainly made it easier to keep an eye on you. You’d been so grateful, thanking him profusely and promising not to be a bother. He’d waved this off of course, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped when you smiled at him. 

It’s late now, the moon full and high in the dark night sky. You’re sitting on the other side of the fire (his fire), your jacket zipped to your chin, arms wrapped around your legs as you try to get as close to the flames as you can without burning yourself. He tries not to keep looking at you, at the way the firelight makes you glow, but every time he looks away, his eyes inevitably drift back. There’s something about you, he’s not sure what but, it makes him feel…uneasy. Everything about you seems normal but he just can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something. His stomach rumbles at this thought and he briefly considers that he might just be hungry. With a sigh, Marc digs into his bag, searching for the rations he’d packed. His eyes meet yours over the fire as he pulls a packet of jerky out and shakes it.  

“Want some?” he asks, holding it out to you. 

You hesitate, eyes dipping to study the nondescript packet in his hand. He swallows thickly as you unconsciously lick your lips. 

“Thanks,” you say finally, smiling as you take the food from him. 

He nods, pulling out another and tearing it open. Marc’s eyes scan the surrounding darkness as the two of you eat, the slight crinkling of the ration packaging replacing the silence. 

“So,” you begin, studying the strip of jerky between your fingers. “You come here often?” 

His lips quirk slightly at the joke but he just shrugs. “Not really, no.” 

You hum, carefully chewing a bite of jerky. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

He meets your gaze, unease settling in his gut. “How do you mean?” 

It’s your turn to shrug now, pulling another strip from your packet “You just seem very…prepared is all.” 

He sniffs in amusement, relaxing slightly. “Yeah well, people do tend to be at least slightly prepared when they plan on camping in the woods.” 

You scoff, swallowing your mouthful of food. “I wasn’t planning on camping though.” 

“Maybe not,” he agrees, taking a sip from his water bottle. “But you clearly had no idea what you were getting yourself into by coming all the way out here. Seriously, who hikes without a map?” 

You snort, shaking your head at yourself. “Valid point. Obviously, I’m an incompetent buffoon.” 

Marc bites back a smile, pulling another piece of jerky from the packet. “Well at least you’re aware of it.” 

“I’m so aware of it,” you laugh, putting your head in your hands.  

He hums, his eyes drifting to you again across the fire, watching as you (presumably) mentally berate yourself for getting into this situation. What would’ve happened had you not run into him? If you had run into someone else? With no supplies, would you even have survived the night? A wave of sympathy washes over him, and he frowns at himself for going soft on you so quickly. 

“What brought you out here, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

You look up from your hands, eyes tired but bright as you smile somewhat fondly. “My brother.” 

Marc raises an eyebrow. “Your brother?” 

You nod, reaching for your pack. You unzip it and pull out an understated urn. His stomach sinks. 

“Oh,” he croaks, his throat going suddenly dry. “I’m…sorry for your loss.” 

“Thanks,” you whisper, turning your attention to the urn in your hands. “He would’ve liked you, I think. Calling me out for being unprepared and all that. He was always looking out for me.” 

Marc grunts, uncomfortable now at the turn the conversation has taken given what had happened to his own brother. “Sounds like he was a, uh, good guy.” 

You nod, meeting his eyes over the fire again, the soft smile on your lips making his heart skip. “He was.” 

The two of you talk a little more, the topics now lighter and less serious. When you start yawning so often you can barely keep the conversation going though, he decides it’s time for bed. He insists that you take his sleeping bag, knowing your thin jacket isn’t enough to keep you warm until the sunrise. Once you agree to take it, he settles down beside the fire, pulling the hood of his jacket up over his head. Your soft snores meet his ears in no time and he smiles to himself, glad that he was able to help someone without using violence just this once. 

He stares into the fire, watching as the flames dance, as they devour the kindling he’d thrown in earlier, as they burn through the sticks and branches he’d collected. His eyes droop, head bobbing gently as he tries to stay awake, knowing he has to keep an eye on things (on you). He thinks he trusts you, or he wants to at least, but he just can’t seem to shake that feeling. Could he really trust himself though? After everything he’s done, after everything he’s seen? Perhaps it’s you who should be afraid of him. 

His thoughts spiral, taking him in directions both logical and illogical. He lets himself get lost in it, in the scenarios, in the possibilities, each one more unlikely than the next. At some point, he must doze off, though, because the next thing he knows is the weight of a body on top of him with a knife to his throat. 

It’s you. Of course it’s you. 

Damn it, he should’ve known, should’ve listened to that niggling feeling inside him that told him not to trust you. 

It’s dark save for the moonlight—you must’ve doused the fire before making your move on him.  

“I’m sorry about this,” you say, grimacing down at him somewhat apologetically. “You seem nice, and I actually kind of enjoyed talking to you but, unfortunately, I have a job to do.” 

Marc swallows thickly, the action pushing the blade a fraction deeper into his skin. “To kill me, you mean?” 

Your face loses some of its softness as you shake your head at him. “That depends on how cooperative you are.” 

He grunts, saying nothing as he tries to assess just how bad things are for him.  

“See,” you continue, leaning in a little closer, the delicious scent of you invading his nostrils. “I need information.” 

He waits for you to continue, eyes scanning your face for any tells, any flickers he can use to his advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh in disappointment, frowning theatrically.  

“Please, Marc, I don’t wanna have to slice up your pretty face. Just tell me what I need to know and I’ll be on my way.” 

He clenches his teeth at your condescending tone. “What do you wanna know?”  

You smile softly at him and he curses himself for the way his heart skips a little; what the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Tell me about Operation Windstorm.” 

He needs to figure out how to get out of this. He can’t just push you off of him, can’t use his legs to flip you over, not with that knife so close to his carotid artery. One wrong move and he’s dead. 

So he stalls. 

Marc snorts, raising an eyebrow at you. “That’s it? Of all the jobs I’ve pulled, that’s the one you wanna know about?” 

You continue to smile down at him, as if you know exactly what he’s doing. “I couldn’t care less, to be perfectly honest but, my client wants to know so, until I get paid, I guess I do too.” 

He grunts, resigned to the fact that he has no choice but to give you exactly what you want in the hopes that you don’t slit his throat afterward. So he tells you every detail of that job, answering every question you have, and just when he’s beginning to think this just might not end well for him, he feels the pressure of your blade ease ever so slightly. 

He wastes no time, taking control and flipping you over, knocking the knife from your hand and causing it to skitter off into the darkness. Marc traps you beneath him, your arms pinned above your head, his knees bracketing your thighs. You’re not giving up without a fight though and wriggling beneath him, trying somehow to use the position to your advantage. You try to lift your leg, brushing your thigh against his groin; the clench of his jaw makes you smirk. 

“Stop it,” he orders, embarrassed by how easy it was for you to rattle him. 

“C’mon, we both know you don’t want that,” you tease, looking down at the slight bulge in his jeans. “Has it been a while, honey?” 

He growls, your breathy chuckles sending shivers up his spine as you continue to move beneath him. “Shut up.” 

“Or what?” you whisper, somehow managing to extricate one of your legs and curl it over his hip.  

“Or this,” he says through gritted teeth, grinding his erection against your core in an effort to turn the tables, to work you up the way you’re working him up. 

It works, your eyes fluttering, lips parting in a sweet little whimper as he grinds into you slowly, over and over again. He groans when you meet his thrusts (as well as you can anyway given your position), the heat blossoming in his gut. He leans in close, his hands still pinning your arms to the ground as he gets lost in you, in the feel of you, in the way you look beneath him. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, panting as every press of his hips sends delightful waves of pleasure through your body. 

Marc hums in agreement, his lip between his teeth as he hovers over you. You want to kiss him, to taste him, to devour him. So you do, pushing yourself up to capture his lips, your tongue claiming his mouth and pulling another groan from him. You arch into him as well as you can, pulling his body even closer with your freed leg as you continue to move together. The friction is delicious, like heaven, and a part of you never wants it to end. You wish you could flip him over again, ride him fast and hard, his strong fingers digging into your hips as you pull him apart and put him back together over and over and— 

Your release slams into you at the thought, a choked moan slipping from between your lips as he keeps moving, prolonging your bliss. Marc watches you as you come, the look in his eyes is greedy as your body shakes, your face contorting into something ethereal, almost otherworldly. When you come back to yourself, you meet his eyes again, your chest heaving slightly as you try to catch your breath. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, the wildness and lust in his eyes visible even in the darkness. You shiver with pleasure, chewing your lip as you let your gaze drag slowly down his body. You wish you could see more of him, his windbreaker doing nothing to compliment his undoubtedly amazing body. 

“Who sent you?” He pants, as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in years. 

Your eyes flick back to his at the question, a lazy smile curling the edges of your mouth as you begin to move against him again, silently begging him to come for you. He swallows thickly, his body tensing with every brush of your hips, his fingers clenching and unclenching around your forearms. His eyelashes flutter as he watches you, his mouth slack with pleasure. Then he groans, giving into you, into this, his body curling even more over yours as he buries his face in your neck. He ruts against you, his movements somewhat uncoordinated as he chases his release.  

His body twitches above yours as he comes, his moans muffled slightly by your neck. Just as you’re mourning the fact that you didn’t get to see his face, you notice his hold on you has slackened a bit— enough to turn the tables, you hope. Still dazed from his orgasm, it takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing as you begin to wiggle beneath him, and by the time he does, it’s too late.  

Marc grunts as you push him onto his back and straddle him, your hands pinning his muscular arms to the ground. After everything, you should probably kill him—he’s the type to hold a grudge, the type that’ll try to hunt you down—but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. If nothing else, it’d be a waste of a pretty face. Instead, you kiss him, relishing the taste and feel of him one last time before pulling away to smile down at him. 

“Thanks for the tumble, honey,” you whisper, climbing off of him with a chuckle. 

By the time he comes back to himself, you’re gone and the sun is just beginning to peak over the horizon. Marc groans in frustration, running his hands over his face as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened. He should be pissed, he thinks, for so easily falling into your trap but, somehow, he isn’t. He sniffs a laugh, shaking his head at himself as he moves to get up.  

Later, when he’s packing up his gear (including the sleeping bag he’d let you borrow), he comes across a folded, non-descript piece of paper that he knows must be from you. He unfolds it, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes tracing the lines and curves of your parting words, words that make his lips quirk in a smile.

See you around.

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