#I didn't include Buttons on purpose

[our-flag-means-death-killed-me]

Stede: Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Ed and I are dating.

Ed, Frenchie, Wee John, Ivan, the Swede, Roach, Fang and Black Pete: gasp

Lucius, Izzy, Jim, and Olu: gasp sarcastically

Stede: Ed, why are you surprised?!

[harringtonfeels]

teach (part ii of touch)

3.9k | New relationship (friends to lovers) | Shy, inexperienced Reader | Smut with undertones of fluff

Notes: This is a continuation of my one shot touch. You don't have to read touch first, but I do think it's more fun that way.

Reader just wants to blow Steve, if he'll just let her already.

Dating Steve is so natural it's like breathing. It's never awkward the way new relationships tend to be. There are none of those growing pains like you've experienced in past relationships. And if you should say so yourself, you make a pretty good team. You segue easily from holding hands at the diner, to making fun of each other over stupid stuff, to abandoning the movie on the TV screen to make out on your couch.

A big part of it is how thoughtful you both are, and how intimately you already know each other. Steve always double-checks your boundaries, always makes sure you know you can tell him if there's something bothering you, or if you've changed your mind. He's so gentle with you, sometimes so gentle you feel the need to remind him that it's okay to be a little assertive.

Steve is a lot of things. Your goofy best friend, a charming boyfriend, and an enthusiastic lover. He's never selfish, and he's certainly never cruel. Sometimes, you have to focus really hard to remind yourself of that. Especially in moments like these. Because, if you didn't know better, you'd say he's driving you crazy on purpose.

You lean up into a sitting position, your tee shirt falling back down and covering your abdomen. "Steve," you all but whine, reaching out for him. He's shirtless, and his skin is damp with sweat, but you don't mind.

"What?" he laughs. He cups your cheek with his hand as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips, then your nose.

Rolling your eyes, you press your free hand to his chest and push him back, firmly but carefully. His lips are too distracting - you'll have to keep him off of you if you want to accomplish anything.

"Why won't you let me?" You've been learning recently how to do the girlfriend thing with a little more… finesse. That includes pouting - at least, when there's something you want. And you're also learning that Steve is a little bit of a sucker for some puppy dog eyes.

"Let you what?" He sounds distracted, and maybe a bit amused, while diving in for another kiss.

Your hand moves swiftly and with purpose down his chest, dropping straight to the button of his Levi's and tugging him in closer. You're still new to this - much newer to it than Steve is. But that doesn't mean you aren't sure of yourself, and it certainly doesn't mean you don't know what you want.

However, while you're angling for something new, he appears to be on a bit of a mission himself.

"Don't worry about that, honey." His tone is chipper, and then his mouth is on yours, and his hands are on your thighs, and your brain is empty.

Steve is a very generous boyfriend, in more ways than one. For your first time, he makes sure everything's just right. The music, the mood, the venue - even the lighting.

He's more prepared than you've ever seen him before. He's bought a pack of condoms to keep in your nightstand, and a bottle of lube as well. You're not exactly old-fashioned, but it's nice that you didn't have to look the lady in the pharmacy checkout line in the eye while buying it yourself.

He makes you cum on his fingers and his mouth first, reddened lips glistening with your slick, and if you were excited to have sex before, now you're aching for it. He never has a hard time getting you interested, but you weren't expecting to feel so satisfied before you've even gotten started.

When he asks if you're ready, you are - absolutely. You palm him through his briefs and moan into his mouth at the feel of him, hard and heavy in your hand.

"Oh, honey," he groans, easing you back down into the pillows, and you can't help but whine a little as he slides his briefs down, freeing his cock.

It's not the first time you've ever seen a penis, but it's the first time you've ever seen Steve's, and with him, everything feels like the first time. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, the shaft hard and ready, tip flushed a dark pink.

"Steve," you sigh, and he kisses you firmly, lovingly, cradling the back of your neck with his big hand.

He rolls the condom on with practiced ease, and then his free hand descends on you, rubbing slick circles around your swollen clit. You know there's something you wanted to ask for, but when your hips buck against his hand, still sensitive from your orgasm, you can't remember what you wanted until he swipes the head of his cock through your folds. You feel him twitch against you, and it's intoxicating, the thought that you drive him as crazy as he does you, that you can feel how hard he's working to exercise some restraint. How hard he's trying to make this perfect.

Your grip on his bicep tightens, and by then, you're so worked up, you're not about to ask him to stop just so you can blow him.

The line between emotional intimacy and sexual intimacy becomes blurrier over time. It's only been three weeks since he touched you the first time, but he's gotten really good at making you feel comfortable. You're also becoming more confident asking for what you need, slowly but surely.

Sometimes you don't know how to say what you mean without it sounding overly crass, and if you can't look him in the eye when you make certain requests, or if your cheeks burn with mild embarrassment - well, it's not like you can help it. But each time, he's so encouraging, helps you through it and never makes you feel ashamed to express yourself. As a matter of fact, you're starting to get the idea that he gets a little bit of a thrill from prompting you to be more direct, hearing you say things you never, ever would have said to him before you were dating.

You're getting a lot of practice asking him to modify his technique, or suggesting a new position. You're also getting better at communicating nonverbally, reading his body language and refining your own. For years, you've felt like you could read Steve like the back of your hand, and it felt like there was nothing left to learn. Oh, how wrong you were. There are so many things to want or need now that were never on the table before, and a million more questions to ask, so sometimes you can't imply the things you want to with your hands or your mouth, with a sigh or a moan. And it's moments like that where Steve seems to have the most fun.

The cheesy slasher flick Steve brought home from Family Video is frozen on the screen of his TV, and you're straddling his lap. Your camisole is abandoned on the floor, and a half-empty popcorn bucket and a couple of wine glasses are strewn across the coffee table. Steve's hand is tangled in your hair, his mouth parted with a sigh as you kiss him, nipping and sucking gently at the junction of his jaw and his neck.

"Oh, honey," he groans, other hand gripping your hip, pulling you a little more firmly against him.

The moan that spills from your lips would be embarrassing with anyone else, but the hard press of his erection between your thighs, separated only by a few layers of clothing, has you feeling so needy it's hard to care about much else. You fist the front of his shirt in your hand and yank him closer, kissing him so clumsily your teeth knock against his. Your hands graze the familiar landscape of his lower stomach, desperately working your way under his shirt, and then to the waistband of his jeans.

Breathlessly, you ask, "Can I?"

Steve's hips rut against yours, and his hand leaves your hair, cupping your cheek. He pulls back just enough to lean his forehead against yours, and his eyes are dark with desire. "Can you what?"

You hesitate, mouth feeling a little dry. How are you supposed to ask this without sounding like a frat boy? Steve has gone down on you like ten times now. Why is it so hard to work up the nerve to just tell him what you want when it comes to this?

Maybe it's because all the girls you went to school with talked about blowjobs like they were inconvenient - or worse, an obligation. Maybe you're afraid it'll make you look like a nymphomaniac if you admit you actually want to. Maybe it's because all the pressure is on you to perform properly, whereas with sex, you're working together. Or maybe it's just because you really, really want it to be good for him.

A couple beats pass, and you tell yourself it's just Steve. Why would it bother Steve for you to act like you want him? Finally, you sit back on your heels and bite your lip, fingers poised at the button of his jeans, and you ask, "Can I suck your dick?"

The first time you offered, he seemed to have gotten the memo, but he'd dismissed your request. The second time, you'd been too wrapped up in how good you felt to get the words out. You're not sure what you're expecting when you finally ask again. Part of you irrationally wonders if maybe that's something he doesn't like, or if he specifically doesn't want you to do it.

He hesitates, and you brace yourself for rejection as you take in the uncertainty in his eyes. Instead, he asks, "Are you sure you want to? You don't have to."

Brow furrowing, you say, "Why would I ask if I didn't want to?"

The way he's looking at you, it's like he's trying to decipher what's going on in your head. You haven't seen him so unsure in years, if ever. After a pause that lingers just slightly too long, he replies. "I just don't want you to think you have to do that to make me happy. I wouldn't be upset if you didn't."

You're starting to put it together what this is about. "Steve, I know you don't want me to feel obligated, but I want to. I want to make you feel good. I think about it a lot, actually."

He shifts his hips underneath you, and you gasp quietly at the sensation, the zipper of his jeans rubbing against you through your shorts. His lips tug upward at the corner. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you kiss him slowly, like you mean it. Your hands shake slightly as you begin undoing the button of his jeans.

He lifts you slightly where you perch on his knees as he raises his hips, allowing you to help him shimmy off his jeans. His hand finds your breast through your bra, and you arch slightly into his touch. "Have you done this before?"

You shake your head, a tinge of self-consciousness blooming in your belly. You're determined not to let that stop you. Eyes meeting his, eyelashes fluttering slightly, you murmur, "Can you teach me?"

Licking his lips, he nods and leans back in, pressing a kiss to your lips. Your gaze drops to the briefs still clinging to his hips, and your breath stutters at the sight of the thick outline of him pressing through the cotton. "I've got you, honey," he says, clearly mistaking your interest for intimidation. You smile at the softness of his voice. Sometimes, you still can't believe Steve is yours, that you have the privilege of having your first sexual relationship with someone who cares so deeply for you, who always puts you first.

You climb off of him and settle between his legs, shag carpet pressing into your knees. It's not exactly comfortable, and Steve must anticipate that, because he hands you one of the pillows beside him on the couch and helps you position it between your knees and the floor. Your heart is racing now; you can feel it throbbing in your pulse point.

"You'll let me know if you start feeling uncomfortable, yeah?" he asks, and his tone is serious and soft as he strokes your hair with one hand.

When you nod, he takes your hands in his gently and pulls them to his lap. You lean forward a little, hands settling on the tops of his thighs. Thinking back on how Steve touches you when he's trying to help get you in the mood, you rub his legs lightly, across the tops of his thighs, along the more sensitive skin on the insides of each of his legs. You try to acquaint yourself with every inch of his exposed skin before moving forward, and it might feel a little silly if you couldn't feel him getting more and more relaxed under your touch.

On a whim, you close your eyes and lower your head to press a chaste kiss to the inside of his knee, and you look up at him, hooking your fingers into the band of his boxers.

He inhales sharply, lips parting slightly, and he lifts his hips again, allowing you to remove his boxers. Once they're down to his ankles with his jeans, you slide both garments all the way off his body and dump them in a heap beside you. His cock is hard and flushed, nearly brushing his stomach, and while you're nervous, you can't help but sigh a little at the sight of it. You've spent weeks daydreaming about this, and you don't know why. You don't know why you've wanted this so badly, just that you do, and now you're finally here, and you don't even know where to start.

As if reading your thoughts, Steve takes one of your hands in his and guides it to his shaft, curling your fingers and palm ever so gently around the base of it. Your fingers almost wrap all the way around him, and you feel yourself growing wetter at the sight. You're not sure if his size is average, or if he's a little on the bigger side, but you know you think he looks really good, and you know he feels really good, too. The weight of him in your hand feels natural.

You start to move your hand over him, and he hisses, then closes his hand over yours, stilling your hand. "Not so firm." His voice is low and gentle, not chastising you but guiding you instead.

Cheeks burning, you loosen your grip a little and look up at him for confirmation.

"There you go," he hums. "It's sensitive, so you have to be gentle, especially since your hand is dry." You think back on the times you've tried to masturbate when you weren't wet enough yet, and that makes sense. "Try again."

You cock your head slightly to the side and watch as he lets go of your hand, and you slowly move your fist up and down his shaft. He twitches in your hand, growing a harder from your touch, and it makes you feel something like pride. Your motion is straight up and down, which feels a little uncomfortable with the position of your elbow and wrist, so you loosen your wrist and watch his eyes as you stroke him rhythmically, tugging him slightly to the side.

He groans and leans his head back against the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "That's it, baby." His breath stutters, and he asks, "Doesn't that feel a better for your wrist?"

You hum your agreement and focus on maintaining your rhythm, leaning in a little closer. "Is it okay if I…?"

You're sure he'll make you say it out loud, but he doesn't, just nods, locking his eyes with yours. "Go ahead, honey, whenever you're ready."

After another few beats, you use your free hand to steady yourself, pressing it to his thigh and leaning your full weight into the cushion beneath your knees. Hesitantly, you lick a stripe up from the bottom of the head to the very tip, and he tenses, fingers finding the back of your head again. He's gentle, not pushing you closer but offering reassurance.

Feeling a little more confident, you take the head of him into your mouth. You read your friends' issues of Cosmo when you were younger, so you've retained some information on various blowjob techniques, but you're not sure if they're any good. When you wrap your lips around him, you attempt to hollow your cheeks and bob your head slightly, straining to look up at his face.

The hardest part seems to be the multitasking. You're still trying to work his shaft with your hand as you suck on the head, and when you try too hard to look at his face, too, you can feel your mouth filling with saliva. You try to swallow around him but struggle a bit, so you pull your mouth off of him with a pop and then swallow.

"Is that okay?" you ask, voice small, leaning back just a little to see him better.

His lips are red from biting them, and he nods, voice hoarse when he says, "Yeah, baby, you're doing so good."

Once you feel ready, you lean back in and wrap your lips around him again, and he inhales sharply when your back teeth graze the head. You pull away quickly. "I'm so sorry," you say quickly, mortified. You don't know much, but you do know you probably weren't supposed to do that.

"It's okay, it's okay," he insists. "Just gotta be careful with the teeth. You'll get it."

You frown a little and look at the head of him again, steeling yourself. When you take him into your mouth again, you take extra care to suck in your cheeks and open wide enough to keep from touching him with your teeth. After a few moments of practicing with the head, you swirl your tongue around the tip, and his hips stutter. You feel rather than see him grip the edge of the cushion, and his brow furrows.

"Oh, honey," he groans. "That feels so good."

After a few moments of licking different patterns on the tip, noting the reactions they draw from him, you begin bobbing your head a little further down, taking more and more of him with each movement. Soon, your lips are connecting with your hand, where you're stroking his shaft, and you focus on trying to get low enough that your fist only covers the base.

The first time he touches the back of your throat, you gag and pull away abruptly. Steve laughs lightly while you catch your breath, and he strokes your cheek, smiling sympathetically. "I'm sorry, I should have warned you."

"It's okay," you reply, sounding a little strangled.

While you're looking up at him, you realize he's not looking at you like someone who just choked on his cock, or even like someone who's blowing him at all. Steve looks at you like you're the most important thing in the world.

Like he's in love with you.

"You don't have to take it all," he says encouragingly. "It's hard to do if you have a sensitive gag reflex."

"No, I'm doing it."

He laughs at your stubborn attitude, watching as you wrap your hand around him again. His eyes crinkle in the corners, and your heart swells with fondness.

"If you insist, baby, just don't hurt yourself. If you can't, you can still use your hand to cover the rest. Try to focus on breathing slow and deep through your nose. That should help."

You nod and roll your shoulders and neck, preparing to get back in the saddle. When you take him into your mouth again, you do like he said, and you focus more on your breathing than on fisting his cock with your hand. You'd like to do it all, but you remind yourself that you're just learning and maybe it's better to start with the basics and then do the extra stuff.

This time, when he nudges the back of your throat, you feel the urge to gag, but you stop yourself just in time, gripping his thigh with your hand.

"Oh my god," he groans, hand weaving into the hair at the nape of your neck. "That's it, baby. Keep going."

Before long, your nose is pressing into his pubic bone, and you're taking all of him in your mouth, all the way to the base. Your jaw is sore, but you don't care, because he's making such pretty sounds. When it becomes too much to handle, you pull back to just the tip and swirl your tongue around him, and his hips jerk forward at the sensation. He murmurs sweet nothings, tells you how well you're doing, how good you feel. And when you work your way back to taking him to the hilt, he whimpers.

Pressing your thighs together to alleviate the ache, you begin bobbing your head with more fervor. You're not sure you've ever been so wet in your life, and you want him so badly it feels like you might die. You want to make him cum with your mouth, but you want him inside you, too, and you're overwhelmed by a resounding chorus of need need need inside your mind.

"Baby, babe," he babbles, and when you meet his eyes, he looks like overtaken by pleasure. You can feel the desperation behind his gaze. "I'm - I'm so close."

You moan around his cock, squeezing your thighs together again. You're absolutely soaked. He's never sounded so good as he does right now, and then he says your name like it's both a plea and a prayer.

You can't take it anymore. You pick up the pace, and it hurts - oh, God, your jaw aches - but you don't care.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns, and you've never heard some sound so feverish. "Baby, I'm—Please. Need to feel you."

Your head swims with desire. You've never heard Steve beg before. How are you supposed to cope with that?

You pull off of him, panting, eyes watering with exertion, and Steve hauls you to your feet, looking to you for permission to remove your shorts. When he unzips them, they drop to your ankles, and you step out of them easily. He pulls you onto his lap, and you're on his mouth just as quickly, kissing him breathless.

His cock nudges against your underwear, and you sigh, rolling your hips against his.

"Can I—" He licks his lips, and when you look into his eyes, you can see he's feeling just as self-conscious as you did earlier. Butterflies explode in your stomach, and you take his face in your hands. You don't know what he's asking, and you wait for him to try again. Finally, he chokes out, "I wanna show you how much I love you - please."

You don't need to hear anymore. You don't know exactly what he wants, but you don't think you need to. There are a lot of things left for Steve to teach you, but trust isn't one of them. You know Steve will take care of you, will be gentle where he needs to be. So you kiss him softly, nod against his forehead. And when he stands, panting, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him carry you to bed.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 3

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy, seizures and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie’s books were doorstoppers. Literally. So thick that Lando just about managed to shove all three of them into his backpack…and nearly broke the zipper while doing that.

He just hoped that him buying these books wasn’t gonna show up on social media any time soon but he didn’t have much trust in that.

He could already imagine the field day that people would have with seeing him of all people buying romance and fantasy books. (Or romantasy as Lizzie had called them…)

The cashier at the bookstore had checked him out with a slightly puzzled look, and she almost seemed to be holding back a grin.

And it wasn’t like Lando hadn’t already started listening to the dramatised audiobook version either…he just figured he should have options, y‘know? 

Especially when that Ciaran guy with the wings was voiced by some Scottish bloke with a voice like gravel. Meanwhile, Astrid had the lilting accent of Wales in her voice… and then there was the fact that some of the…scenes sounded rather… they were definitely not appropriate for…company.

Still he thought that he could probably listen to another few hours of that on the flight…or he would just like…skip…the…some of the stuff that Lizzie had apparently written and that made him think about things that he probably shouldn’t be thinking about…especially not with a Race coming up and the fact that the girl he had gone on two dates with was an ocean away. 

Still, thank god for private flights. It was just gonna be him and Oscar and Max, who would come along to Miami.

Maybe Lando should have known that it was a bad idea. He had imagined it so easily. Put on head phones, put on the audiobook and zone out for a little while…

Instead Lando managed to not actually pair his headphones with his phone… And seconds later his phone was blaring “A Spring of Secrets and Thorns” for Oscar and Max to hear, including a particular… intimate scene he had reached…

His wings spread wide as he pulled her closer, the heat of his body enveloping hers as they shared a heated kiss. Ciaran’s hand traced the curve of Astrid’s back, his wings brushing her skin as the tension between them grew unbearable…

Oscar and Max simultaneously turned their heads toward Lando, eyes wide, their expressions somewhere between shock and amusement.

Oscar's eyebrows were raised so high, they almost touched his hairline. He looked like he was barely holding back a fit of laughter. Even Max looked amused.

Lando just slumped back in his seat, feeling his face grow hot. He didn't need a mirror to know that he was turning bright red. He fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to turn it off.

“What the hell is that?” Max finally choked out.

“Are you listening to racy audiobooks now?” Oscar demanded.

Lando's fingers finally closed around the power button on his phone, cutting off the sound. He avoided their eyes, knowing he looked guilty as hell.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant.

Oscar just burst out laughing. "Oh yeah? Sounded like it was definitely something, mate."

Lando felt like he could melt into the seat, his face practically glowing.

“Wait,” Oscar said suddenly. “I think I know that book. Is that the Astrid and Ciaran book? Lily’s been going on about it for months. That’s her favorite series. I didn’t know you were a romance guy, Lando.”

Lando's eyes widened in horror. Of course, Oscar would know what book it was. There nearly never ended a day without Oscar being texted by his girlfriend about whatever new book Lily was currently reading. 

"I am definitely not a romance guy," he protested, trying to save what little dignity he had left.

But Max was grinning now, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oh, so you just happen to have a romance/fantasy book on your phone for... for what reason, exactly?" his best friend asked him, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s Lizzie’s favourite,” he blurted out. “I just wanted to see what the fuss is about.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was..well. He wasn’t about to tell Oscar and Max that Lizzie was the actual author of that book series…he would probably neer live down the teasing for reasding her books then…though now that Lando was thinking about it, he wasn’t quite sure that telling them that he was reading her favourite books was much better. 

“Lizzie?” Oscar asked curiously.

“Hasn’t Lando told you? He finally managed to ask out the cafe girl,"Max said drily. “You know the one he has been crushing on for months.”

Max's words hung in the air for a moment, and Lando shot him a poisonous look. Max just smirked back like the cocky bastard he was, clearly enjoying throwing Lando under the bus.

Oscar looked surprised, eyes wide as he turned his gaze to Lando. "Wait, seriously? You managed to ask her out?"

Lando sighed, knowing there was no going back now. He should’ve known better than to let Max in on his relationship with Lizzie in the first place. And now, of course he would go and blurt it out in front of Oscar. “Yeah, I did, okay?” he admitted, though his tone was defensive.

“Finally,” Oscar said with a shake of his head. “It was getting depressing.”

Lando shot him a glare but didn’t argue. 

Max was, predictably, trying not laugh.  “It was kind of pathetic,” he said with a grin.

“Piss off, both of you,” Lando grumbled. “I didn’t know what to say to her, alright? It’s complicated.” Lando defended himself.

“Mate, you spent three months buying pastries you didn’t even like in a cafe so you could stare at a random girl. That’s not complicated, that’s obsessive. And then you pawned off said pastries to every poor unsuspecting McLaren engineer you could find,” Oscar said with a laugh.

“Lando, please tell me you didn’t actually do that?” Max asked, sounding like he was holding back a laugh.

Lando felt his face grow hotter. He’d hoped Oscar wouldn’t mention that particular fact.

“I mean …” he hedged, but a look from Oscar shut him up real fast.  “Okay, yeah, maybe I did,” he admitted, reluctantly. “But it’s not that big a deal, alright?”

“How did you even finally manage to ask her out?” Oscar asked with an unbelieving laugh. “You did ask her out, right? You didn’t like…stalk her and found out her favourite book some other way?”

“Of course, I asked her out, you jerk,” Lando shot back, feeling his embarrassment turn into irritation. “And no, I didn’t stalk her. I just asked her.”

Max laughed, clearly still finding this whole thing highly amusing. “Her dog finally took pity of him,” he quipped to Oscar. “She got a service dog that alerted to Lando, then he somehow managed to get her number. How was that dinner by the way?”

He could feel his cheeks heating up again as Max reminded him of that part.

“It was…nice,” he muttered, hoping they would move on from the topic.

Oscar was watching him with an amused gleam in his eyes. “And now you are trying to impress her even further by reading books you would normally never touch?” he teased.

Lando huffed. “It’s not like that,” he said defensively. “I’m just…trying new things. Broadening my horizons.”

“Reading romance books is broadening your horizons?” Max asked, clearly trying not to laugh again. “That’s a new one.”

Lando gritted his teeth, his temper flaring. He knew they were just winding him up, but it was starting to get annoying. “You know what, forget it,” he snapped.

“Fine by me,” Oscar said, still grinning like the bastard he was. “But I’ve got a feeling that you’re gonna get hooked on those books.”

Lando rolled his eyes but didn't respond. He had no intention of telling them that he was already a fourth of the way into the first book…and that actually, he really wanted to know what happened between Ciaran and Astrid. And what the heck was going on with Quinn? He didn’t trust that guy at all…

“And who knows,” Oscar continued. “Maybe reading all those romance books will help you woo your cafe girl. You know when the dog needed to help you ask her out…”

“Don’t you dare say a thing about Mara,” Lando snapped. “She’s a wonder dog! Do you know how important service dogs are for people with epilepsy?”

Oscar stared at him, blinking twice, clearly surprised by his outburst. 

“No need to be so touchy about it,” Max said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But still, you’re a world-class racing driver, and a Labrador had more game than you,” he teased, clearly enjoying Lando’s increasing irritation.

“She has epilepsy?” Oscar asked curiously. “One of my mates from boarding school has that.”

Lando nodded, his irritation easing slightly. “Yeah,” he said, trying to rein in his earlier irritation. “She can have seizures without warning. They can be really bad, so the dog is trained to let her know when one is coming...She had another seizure a day before we were supposed to go out to dinner, so we had dinner at her home instead."

Oscar grimaced in sympathy. "That sucks, man," he said sincerely. "Is she doing alright, though?"

Lando nodded. "Yeah, she's doing fine now," he said, his tone noticeably softer. "They just leave her feeling like garbage, but she's mostly fine. It's just...it freaks me out, you know," he said with a grimace. "She can't control her seizures obviously, but they leave her feeling so shitty and there is nothing that I or anybody else can do to make her feel better."

“Sounds pretty rough,” Max said, now sounding sincere as well. “But it’s nice that she has a service dog,” he added, nodding at Lando. “That’s gotta help.”

Oscar watched him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Don't bite off my head, alright?" He said carefully. "But...have you thought about what that is going to mean in your relationship going forward? She will always have epilepsy, Lando. That's not going to be an illness she will ever grow out of or get healed from. Even when they find a medication that makes her mostly seizure free...she will still always have it. Will you be able to deal with that?"

Lando tensed at the question. He had thought about it before, of course, how could he not? "It's not like I'm going to dump her because she has epilepsy," he snapped, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I'm not an arsehole."

"That's not what I meant," Oscar said drily. "I mean, that she is probably not going to come along with you on one of your night clubs night outs, with flashing lights and plenty of alcohol. She's also not one of the random super model girlfriends that you date for three weeks and then dump and never talk to again."

Lando bristled at the mention of his "supermodel girlfriends", but he knew there was truth to what Oscar was saying. Lizzie was different, and he had known that from the start.

"I know that," he said, his tone a little bit more defensive than he intended it to be. "I'm not an idiot. I know this is different than what I'm used to. But it's not like she can't go anywhere just because of her epilepsy. She can still have fun."

"Yeah, she totally can," Max agreed. "And I'm pretty sure no one is saying that she can't, man."

Oscar nodded in agreement. "Of course she can, I'm not questioning that. But what I'm trying to say is...if this is going to become serious, do you think that you can deal with it? It's not just going to be the epilepsy, I know that. She's going to have other issues and problems and things that are going to affect both of you. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Lando exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. He knew they weren't trying to be assholes, but they were throwing a lot of hard questions at him.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I've never had anything like this before. But...I like her, alright? Like, a lot. And it feels different...and like...like it's going to be worth it. Nothing that is worth fighting for is going to come to you easy," he said seriously. "I am not afraid of a challenge."

Oscar and Max were quiet for a moment, both of them looking at him with expressions of surprise and respect respectively. They clearly hadn’t expected him to express himself in that way.

“Damn, mate,” Oscar said finally. “Who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris?”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the hint of a smile that curled at the corners of his lips. “Piss off, the both of you,” he said, though his words lacked any real heat.

Max snickered a little. “Okay, we’re going to let you continue listening to your racy audiobooks now.”

"Maybe I should actually read them too," Oscar said thoughtfully. "I mean, Lily loves them."

"Want the hardcovers?" Lando asked, rummaging through his backpack to throw them in Oscar's direction. "Knock yourself out."

Oscar caught the books and looked at them with a look of amusement. Then he gave Lando a smirk. "You sure you are not secretly a fangirl, Norris?"

Lando rolled his eyes again. "Shut up."

"It's even the special edition with sprayed edges," Oscar teased.

"The internet would just love a picture of the two of you reading romance books," Max said drily.

"Go and text Pietra and I bet you that she has heard of these books as well," Oscar said drily. "Seasons of Fate is seemingly what every women between the ages of 20 and 30 is reading right now."

[itsblueflamebae]

Hotspot

synopsis: did you just find mac’s hot spot?

wc: 624, without actual programming stuff

cw: very suggestive/almost smut, pseudo-sexual, minors DNI, double-clicking (oh!), mac receiving

notes: read with caution! gender neutral reader. extremely sensitive mac (which is canon, right?). mac x programmer!3dmodeler!reader. yes, i included some 3d modeling shenanigans in text because it’s funnier that way. ignore how bad and inaccurate it is please, and please tell me you understand the word pun with hotspot. potential part 2? not beta-read.

You double-click on the Python tab because… Well, it’s better that way, is it not?

You mostly did your work quickly, in silence of your house, so you could hear the thoughts of quitting and the persuasion to stay for the sake of your salary. But today, your precious glasses rest on the bridge of your nose, and your non-dominant hand is held by Mac. Your fingers are intertwined and their thumb gently glides over your skin.

"Are you sure you don't need the help of a professional?" They asks, peering into your face.

Your fingers tap on the keyboard, and Mac feels it like a dance of your fingertips on their skin. It's so fleeting that it even tickles.

“I am professional, my love. Just sit back and relax," you reply to Mac, smiling contentedly.

hotspot = {

“side”: “right”,

“x”: 50,

“y”: 70,

“icon”: “a”,

“alpha_out”:65

You stop, trying to figure out what's wrong. Your eyes scan the screen once, twice, as your hand reaches for the mouse.

"What are you—" Mac is about to ask, when they feel a new wave of electricity running down their spine.

Of course, you move the mouse so slowly that it's almost painful. Mac bites the inside of their cheek — you're not doing it on purpose, they think, but they're enjoying it. There was a sheen of sweat on their forehead – not enough to wipe off, but it tickled their skin. Just a little more, they thought, if you touched the mouse again, if you clicked the left button twice, their shirt would stick uncomfortably to their back. The skin of their palms was warming.

"I can see you fidgeting," you tell them as soon as you cast a curious glance.

“Have I ever told you how fitting and delightful your glasses look on your face?” They asks, translating the question. “You should wear them more often.”

“So should you,” you say, pointing my finger at their nose.

Ah, that's where you made a mistake.

“alpha_out”: 65,

You didn't put a space, silly.

“MC,” Mac calls you by your name.

“You know, I don't understand why my company needs a hotspot right now. It’s so strange. I'm thinking about adjusting the transparency here, and I'll change the position and depth.”

Mac listened and thought that it wouldn't hurt to change the position, and you could change the depth of where your fingers are. Damn it, do you really not understand what you're doing to their system, or are you pretending? You start typing again. They felt more than a pack of numbers, the order of energies increasing to a gram of staticity, the final dilemma and drama, the output of the reaction percentage, which is akin to zero. Oh, Mac felt something more than just numbers of your code, and craved more, so much more that it was barely balancing on the desire to devour and be devoured.

“alpha_down”: 100,

“alpha_over”: 85,

“action_up”: “script_scenel”,

“z_index”: 10

}

“MC,” they call you again, because you've never looked so hot, all engrossed in your work, explaining something that only the two of you can talk about.

Oh, Mac will overheat soon, and it will be your fault.

You chuckle and wipe your forehead with the back of your forearm.

“Oh, I know,” you smile. “But you'll be patient, won't you?” You stroke your finger up and down, up and down.

Of course they'll wait. Just promise to finish what exactly you’ve done, alright?

[selunefae]

i really love your fanfics, could you pleeaseee make more spicy sylus???

Promise you'll be a good girl? (+18) - Sylus (Love and Deepspace)

masterlist | rules

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 1,651

tags: sylus (lads) x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader

cw: PwP, shameless smut, use of toys, non-penetratrive toys, PinV sex, use of pet names (kitten), praise kink, restraints, light bondage, dom/sub, dom!sylus, aftercare, unprotected, creampie

notes: I didn't know what to write exactly, and then I remembered the whole discussion of what type of dom Sylus is. I personally think Sylus is a soft dom/pleasure dom, but if he *had* to punish you, I think this is the type of discipline he'd do. But, I'm not main Sylus, so sorry if he's a little bit OOC. (English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Sylus isn’t exactly a man of discipline.

He likes to spoil you – loves it. He buys you anything you want, takes you to dinners that require reservations weeks in advance, plans extravagant vacations in the most expensive and exclusive resorts… He’s a man who has everything, and he lives to share it with you.

Besides, why would he want to?

He enjoys it when you act like a brat. He likes your whining, your pouty little moods, the way you roll your eyes at him when you don’t get your way. He likes it when you talk back, when you push his buttons just enough to see what he’ll do.

But sometimes –

Sometimes you take it too far.

And that’s how you end up like this: completely naked, legs spread and lifted high, ankles tied to your wrists, your arms restrained in cuffs that lock you in place against the bedposts, unable to move.

It’s not that Sylus wants to make you suffer. On the contrary, he much prefers watching you writhe from pleasure. But every now and then, when you push him too far, he has no choice but to remind you who’s in charge.

At first, he stays silent. Just walks around the room like he has all the time in the world, sleeves rolled up, eyes dragging over your bound body, admiring how you squirm and try to move in futile attempts. You’ve only been there for five minutes, but your need for release makes it feel like fifty. Your core pulses with arousal, and your begging doesn’t seem to do anything to him.

He turns around.

In his hand, he has your favourite toy. Small, sleek, and black. The one you use when he’s not around. He knows it, after all, he’s the one who bought it for you. Your breath catches as he holds it up, rolls it between his fingers like he’s inspecting a delicate piece of jewelry. Then his eyes cut to yours. 

“I know how much you like this one.”

You swallow hard, hips instinctively rolling up into the air, but he restraints don’t let you go anywhere. The vibrator hums to life in his hand – a quiet, familiar buzz that instantly makes your thighs twitch. He leans down slowly, places a hand on your thigh to still you, and brings the toy close. Close enough that you can feel the vibrations in the air.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asks, his usual smirk already on his face.

You nod, wide-eyed, and lips parted. You feel the tears forming in your eyes already.

“Yes,” you breathe. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“You promise ,” he repeats, dragging the tip of the vibrator just barely across your inner thigh, avoiding where you need him most on purpose. “That also includes not interrupting important meetings, right?”

Your face burns, but you still nod eagerly. “Yes, yes, yes. I promise.”

He presses the vibrator over your clit. Your entire body jolts. A high, uncontrollable cry leaves your throat as the pressure finally, finally lands where you’ve needed it. Your hips buck, but he pins you down with one strong hand on your pelvis, keeping you grounded.

“Sylus… I need more… Please, fuck me.”

He laughs and turns up the speed. The toy buzzes harder against your clit, vibrating in small circles that make your legs shake in their bindings. Your head falls back, a stream of moans pouring from your lips. 

“First, you’re going to come with this.”

His hand moves, guiding the vibrator down until it slides over your entrance. He doesn't thrust it in, though. He circles it the same way he was doing with your clit. Then, he drags it back up and starts the process over again. The pressure builds fast, and every time you start to feel you’re getting closer, he pulls back just enough to make you beg. His free hand slides up your body, warm palm cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth and biting, licking the pain away right after.

He might call this a punishment, but there’s no mistaking the way he’s enjoying it. And the worst part is…

So are you.

"You're doing so good, kitten."

Your thighs tremble, wrists straining against the cuffs, and he growls when you whimper his name again. He turns the speed up to max, and that’s all you need to finally reach your climax. You cry out, arching your back and nailing your palms from the sudden wave of pleasure. He doesn’t stop, keeping the toy in place as you fall apart beneath him. 

You collapse back into the mattress, body heaving, skin damp, and eyes glassy. You think maybe that’s it. That he’ll untie you now and press soft kisses to your skin and run a bath like he always does. But he clicks the vibrator off and puts it aside on the nightstand. And before you even realize it, he’s above you again. His pants are gone, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose from his shoulders. One of his hands rests on your thigh, squeezing gently and rubbing circles to help you relax. You open your eyes just in time to see him.

He’s impossibly hard.

His cock is flushed and heavy, veins prominent, and the head slick with precum. And you’re the one who caused it. He’s so hard just for watching you come.

Even though you just finished, heat blooms between your legs again.

“Are you ready?” He asks, voice deep and serious.

You respond with barely a whisper.

He strokes himself a few times before lining up at your entrance. You thought being tied like this might make it uncomfortable, but it turns out, it’s completely the opposite. The moment the tip of his cock presses into your cunt – you’ve never felt so food before. Like every inch of you is open and exposed and raw in the best possible way. Your mouth falls open as he pushes deeper. The slick of your previous orgasm makes it easy for him to enter, but you still feel a certain stretch from the size of him.

He groans above you, “ fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your walls pulse around him as he finally bottoms out, hips flush against yours. You can feel every vein, every inch, every pulse. He stays still for a moment, for you to get used to his size and for him to savour a little more of your warm and tight walls. Then, without warning, he pulls back and thrusts in, hard. You scream. His pace picks up quickly, every thrust designed to hit that perfect spot inside you. His hands grip your hips gently, in contrast of how hard he’s fucking you. 

Your eyes roll back.

The overstimulation from your previous climax makes everything brighter and more intense, like your nerves are picking up every minuscule detail. Every drag of him against your walls sends sparks up your spine.

He leans over you, catching your mouth in a kiss. His tongue presses inside your mouth, matching the rhythm og his thrusts. You moan into him, body trembling, bound and unable to move except to take what he gives you. It turns you on even more – how composed he still is, even with his cock buried deep in your tight cunt. One of his hands cups your face for a moment before trailing lower, until it settles where you’re most sensitive. His thumb finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he starts rubbing tight, rough circles. Your entire body jerks, thighs twitching under the weight of his body, and your moans break into ragged whimpers. It’s all too much. The way he’s kissing you, the way his cock slams into you, the way his thumb keeps pressure on your clit without mercy –

You can feel him get closer too.

His thrusts grow shallower and sloppier. His pace falters, the careful control he kept up until now starting to slip

“Fuck–” he hisses against your jaw, “you’re gonna make me–”

You nod wildly, back arching off the mattress and feet curling. “Yesyesyesyesyes. Pleasepleaseplease– Come inside of me–”

He pounds into you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and ove, thumb never stopping its motion. 

You both break at the same time.

With a strangled growl, he drives into you one final time, deep and hard, his whole body tensing above you. Your cunt spasms around him, milking his cock while you ride the high together. He groans your name against your neck, and you feel him twitch inside you, finally coming.

He lowers himself onto you slowly, careful not to collapse all at once. His arms cage you, muscles shaking as he breathes through the last waves of release. His softening cock slips free. You feel the sticky, warm liquid pushing out of you, and it sends you shivers. Sylus pulls back and sits up, hands moving to your wrists to unbind you. He works fast but gently, undoing the cuffs with practiced ease. His fingers caress the marks left behind, thumbs brushing circles into your sore skin as he massages each wrist and then your ankles in turn.

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

You hum in response, but you already feel the heaviness in your eyelids.

He disappears for a moment, and you hear the distant sound of a tap running. He returns with a damp towel, and he passes it between your legs and thighs to clean you up. You sigh into the mattress, body floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion. When he’s done, he drapes a blanket over your naked form and settles beside you, running his hand slowly up and down your back and pulling you closer.

You fall asleep with the feeling of his lips on your shoulder.

[bravehyde]

Ant Tenna Mike Anatomy: More Than Fan Theory References

~Deltarune Chapters 3+4 Spoilers~

We're taking a sideline from Tenna anatomy to talk about the Mikes, although the things I say in here may be helpful to Tenna artists anyways, so I'll put it under the tag. The Mike boss fight made me freak out over how these lil guys work. I've been going crazy about how these Mikes look and how they're little references to other stuff going on in audio equipment, so I'm going to go over that.

Before that, I'm going to just say one thing. Obviously, I know that the three Mike designs are based off of fan theories. I'm going to go over their possible inspirations in the world of microphones, though. This is really just me having fun with it.

The Names of the Mikes

This is what I found so cool. So, we have Battat, Pluey, and Jongler. Now, say those out loud, paying attention to how each one makes your mouth move. Did you notice something? Each name has incredibly different phonetics, meaning that their sounds and mouth movements vary wildly. They include sounds that you really want to make sure are good when you're doing a mic check. Or maybe, a Mike Check.

When testing sound, one of many things you have to do is to make sure all ranges of words you can say will come through clearly. You may have heard "check check 1 2 3", which is a good way to start but most people don't find it satisfactory and continue to full on sentences. If you have to go quickly, nonsense words with a variety of sounds will work great. AKA, their names. I don't think you need me to go through each name with their noises, but each name covers every type of vowel sound, and has the potential of spanning any pulmonic consonant, depending on your personal accent. I don't think Toby went through the international phonetic alphabet doing this on purpose or anything, but these are excellent names for sound checks and it's crazy.

Battat (Small Mike)

There are two different types of microphones he can be, and both are used primarily by people who need to be recorded saying lines in television. One is the dynamic microphone, and one is a lavalier microphone.

The dynamic microphone is easy to understand. You hold it, you talk into it. That's what he's holding, and it's probably what his head is supposed to be, too. However, I'm sure not everyone want to draw that tedious grid on his head. In that case, I wanted to offer the lavalier as an alternative for his dome.

The lavalier is hidden in someone's clothes, like through a button or under a shirt, and plugs into a pack that the person straps to their belt or in a back pocket to record and get power. These things are like a soft foam because of the windscreen, that black ball there, and don't tell anybody but they're very satisfying to pop in your mouth. So it makes sense, as the supposed "lead" Mike, to be two of the most recognizable microphones for people who work in television. Shows on sets and interviews will use these microphones the most.

Pluey (Cat Mike)

THIS is the one who is the reason why I wanted to make this post. Now. I know that he's a cat because of the theory he would be a cat. But everyone. GUYS. LISTEN. I need everyone to know that there is a piece of audio equipment that is literally called a deadcat.

You put the deadcat over a shotgun/boom mic to help it with wind and excess noise filtration. It makes sound better, basically, and if Pluey here is a deadcat, that makes him ANOTHER very important microphone to the broadcasting world. This thing is key to picking up sound effects and foley. If you're doing anything outside, you want a boom with a deadcat on you.

About his hands: again, very well could be a dynamic microphone, and again, that's a bit hard to draw, no? I wanted to offer another idea I had just in case you didn't want to deal with that grid. A deadcat is a type of windshield, much like what I talked about with lavaliers. When you're working in a studio as an alternative to deadcats, you may use a pop filter over a dynamic or condenser microphone. They're flat, easy to render as far as I can tell, and they match the shape of Pluey's hands, so it isn't a stretch of the imagination to say it could be a pop filter. Or maybe if sphere hands is too weird, pop filter paw pads. Just so you have some options.

Jongler (Motormouth Mike)

This one's a bit tougher since he could be a lot of types of microphones, but technically he's missing something he'd need to be them. He could be a lavalier but they don't have the texture shown when the windscreen is taken off. He could be a ribbon microphone but they have a strip of metal up the sides that he's missing. He could be a shotgun, but they don't have that silvery base. This guy is the sole reason why this post took so long, because he's such a headscratcher. Ultimately, I had to take the boxing gloves as a visual cue and decide to look for what sports commentators would use. I don't think a lot of people know about lip ribbon mics and he's obviously not that anyway, so we'll go with something more common. If he's supposed to be an allusion to boxing matches, they used ribbon microphones, which later got phased out for condenser microphones. It's not a perfect fit with his head so long, so we'll chalk that up to stylisation.

The condenser microphone is best for in a recording booth, and if we choose to believe that's what Jongler's supposed to be, that means we've covered the three biggest areas where someone would need a variety of microphones based on how controlled the environment is. A studio with a condenser is the best you can get, hopefully with lots of foam and someone on the other side of some glass controlling the sound. Then we have lavaliers and dynamic microphones on the set, where some interference could happen but it's minimal. Finally, boom and shotgun microphones are for outdoors and large sources of sound, where you have the least amount of say in what gets picked up so you're kind of hoping for the best. Pretty great variety in microphones if this was intentional, and if not...I just want more people to know that their accidental theory of Mike being a cat led to a really funny audio engineering pun to me and only me.

[mys0419]

Staring longingly at the post button in here, but avoiding it on purpose because I know that the second I press it I will start rambling about Seam Deltarune

...Which I'm gonna do anyway!

One of my favorite things about them is the fact that despite basically being a hermit who won't leave their shop even during important castle town events (most likely because they see no real reason why they should attend), they are generally well liked and even implied to be visited by other residents fairly frequently.

An example of this is Sweet Cap'n Cakes giving them their entire remaining stock of bagels after they stop selling them, which isn't something small in my opinion and demonstrates that they're easy to trust by others (SCC have been shown to doubt fairly easily, especially strangers during chapter 2 lol)

And while the Addisons clearly had the motive of buying their shop from them, they didn't immediately push them away and instead engaged in playful betting, which they obviously won (ALSO WHAT WAS W THE CLOTHES THING. WHY DID WE ALL COLLECTIVELY IGNORE THAT. HELLO???).

The point is that as much as Seam doesn't care about practically anything anymore, including how they come off to others, they're so effortlessly warm and welcoming that people do not feel intimidated or put off by them. They are heavily burdened by the knowledge they have, but that doesn't make them bitter at all.

[pancake404]

The False God's Limbo: BBI Catnap and Dogday

A little bit more of character information regarding the False God's Limbo.

Catnap/Theodore: After ten years of hunting down heretics, worshiping his only friend and God, roaming Playcare, slowly starving, and the cherry on top, the reminder of his past death with the Prototype executing him, Theo is a shadow of his original self. He doesn't feel remorseful nor pleased with his past actions as at the end of the day, they were just heretics that he had to deal with.

Catnap is cold, drained, reserved, and often described as emotionless. He has no issue speaking as it doesn't affect his throat whatsoever unlike before but he normally only talks when he feels he needs to. He doesn't care about most of the other experiments, and he especially stopped caring about the BBI Smiling Critters. To him, they're not the Smiling Critters, they are just other lab rats like him that just look like the Smiling Critters. Despite not caring though, Catnap is more than willing to threaten those that push his buttons.

However, when interacting with BBI Dogday, the heretic, Catnap decided that since he can't kill him or himself(or get out of the place), he might as well stick with one of the only familiar experiments. Though, he doesn't understand why Dogday is willingly dragging him with, it's not like he has anywhere else to go. Not only that, but he also does find that there are other toys that still have some devotion to the Prototype side and he figured that as the main devotee and priest, he feels like he has some responsibility in protecting them.

Essentially:

It's not that he is happy with what he did, he just doesn't have a reason to care. He behaves like a lost monster who has no purpose anymore.

Dogday/Samuel Lee(Sticking with this identity of BBI Dogday): After being pretty much either locked up(in this version, he had only his legs ripped off at a later time than the whole ten years) or witnessing the horror of what became the other BBI Smiling Critters, he feels a sense of failure that was placed upon him as his role as the leader but also, he doesn't want to experience any of that ever again.

Dogday when encountering Catnap imminently in the limbo, neither attacked each other but more of just stared, being unsure what to do. But after Catnap tried getting out...unsuccessfully, Dogday decided to snag Catnap and drag him along to check out the limbo further where the other toys are found. His feelings of Catnap/Theo are very mixed, he feels unsure, hurt, frustrated, sympathetic, but overall, he just wished it didn't turn out like this. He sees Catnap sort of like a loyal dog(ironic, I know) being thrown away like garbage after everything they sacrificed and were willing to do, which Catnap disagrees with. But either way, he views this Limbo as maybe a second chance for all the toys to try to move on without the threat of every toy for themselves in the factory. Though the question is if everyone else sees it that same way(spoiler, they don't).

Dogday is on edge though optimistic. He won't take crap but also has some personal nightmares(such as...you know, Chapter Three). He also doesn't want to fail at being a leader again which is difficult as there are...certain things that the other Smiling Critters(very much including Catnap) know about and therefore, they don't fully trust him.

Essentially:

It's not like Dogday isn't upset, it's just...the others(Catnap included) have reasons to not like him either. He also prefers forgiveness for a better way forward than constant battle of survival which is both made possible and impossible in this Limbo.

When thinking of their relationship, I've seen a lot of ideas such as never-ending fights and hatred over the other, a long time for forgiveness but eventually a happier ending, etc. But for this version, I'd say it's less of finally forgiving the other(mostly Catnap redemption and Dogday forgiving) but more of "Can we be friends this time?" sort of thing if that makes sense. Lastly, in this version, there are dirt that can be made for all the Smiling Critters.

Also, both are drained from the decade being in the factory and they're sort of more glad it's finally over.

[thunderbolt-ing]

"I Can't Do It Alone." — 3

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Fem!Reader Summary: Denial is a river in Egypt. In other words, the signs are there, but you dodge them like bullets. Warnings: idk gunshots and distant gunfights, you'll see. reader is in extreme denial. bucky is trying so hard. please tell me if anything in this chapter is triggering, i don't think so bc it's just fluff-ish but please lmk A/N: canon divergence bc i completely messed up the order of events from the movie (I'm writing this in pure memory) but its going to work out anyway so!!!!! NO CHANCE NO WAY I WONT SAY IT NO NO (you swoon, you sigh, why deny it uh oh) that was playing in my head while writing the majority of this part. I've read through this several times but I'm sure there are still mistakes i didn't catch so i do apologize in advance. Word count: ~5.7k words. I hope this keeps you fed while my brain regroups.

Later that Same Evening Long After the Gala

Your flight, much to your mounting irritation, had been cancelled. At this point, it felt like the universe was dead set on keeping you in D.C., a place you didn’t particularly mind, but didn’t want to linger in either. You just wanted to go back to New York, back to your routine, and back to your job. 

Still, you weren’t helpless. Sure, you complained and cursed out every possible godly being, but you had things under control within minutes. You’d already opened three tabs on your phone, scanned for reasonably priced motels near the airport, and mentally mapped out your commute the next morning. 

Then your phone buzzed. 

You stared at the message, blinking. Not only did he predict that you were going to protest, but he was already making his way back to the airport when he had just dropped you off hours ago. You sat down heavily on the nearest bench in the ‘departures’ terminal, trying to make sense of that familiar ache in your chest. It wasn’t the first time he had done something like this. It was little things, things he never pointed out, never made a show of. He just… showed up. It was as if no version of his evening didn’t include making sure you got home safe. 

You tapped your phone screen again, reading his text over. 

No need. On my way. 

You could’ve insisted, you should’ve insisted. You weren’t helpless, you knew how to navigate things alone, you’d been doing it your whole life. But somehow, with Bucky, the line between stubborn independence and reluctant comfort blurred just a little. 

You typed a reply. Paused. Deleted it. 

Then, you tucked your phone into your pocket and told yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just Bucky being Bucky. It wasn’t about you. He’d do the same for anyone because that was just the kind of man he was: reliable, responsible, and frustratingly decent.

But then he’d do things that chipped away at that belief. It was gentle, subtle things that left you standing in the ruins of your own logic, questioning everything all over again. 

It was infuriating.

This, or rather he, was not what you were here for. You were hired for a job, a purpose. You were supposed to be focused on policy briefings, constituent emails, scheduling, and outreach. Not your boss’s inconvenient acts of quiet heroism. Your job was to make sure he passed legislation, kept his approval ratings high, and won re-election. He was good at his job because you were excellent at yours. You were a team, impeccably efficient, practically unbeatable, and you couldn’t complicate that. 

So you did what you did best: Deny. Bury. Move on.

The familiar, low roar of a motorcycle engine ripped through your thoughts like a needle scratching across a record. You looked up and there he was, just as he said he would be. 

Bucky was straddling his bike, helmet-clad, and still in the same dress shirt and slacks he wore to the gala. The black tailored jacket that completed the look was gone, leaving his sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. He looked less like a congressman and more like someone who belonged on the cover of a vintage motorcycle ad—windswept, timeless, and entirely unaware of the effect he had. 

You held back a sigh. You really wish he had taken the car instead. 

Bucky pulled up just in front of where you sat, killed the engine, and swung his leg over the bike with practiced ease. He removed his helmet and walked it over, holding it out to you wordlessly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You stared at it for a beat too long, then up at him. His expression was neutral, but something about the slight raise of his brow said, ‘Are you really going to argue with me about this?’ You were, you thought about it, but you didn’t this time. 

You took the helmet reluctantly, securing it on your head before tightening the straps of your backpack with practiced movements. Bucky then swung his legs over the motorcycle with ease, settling into the seat and steadying the bike with one foot so you could comfortably hop on. 

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were ready. “Hold tight,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm. Then, with the smallest smirk in his tone, he added, “On my waist, L/N. You know how this works.” “I know, I know,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You hovered your hands awkwardly near his sides, as if proximity alone could meet the safety requirement. 

You heard him sigh, low and amused, before his mechanical hand reached back and gently guided your arms into place, adjusting your grip until your hands were flat and secure against his waist. “There,” he said, his voice softer this time. “Now you won’t fall off.” You scoffed. You hated the way your chest tightened at the casual intimacy of it all and the way he didn’t even seem to realize what moments like this did to you. 

He rolled off into the streets with familiar ease, weaving through traffic as the city lights blurred around you. The cool air stung your cheeks, and your hair whipped wildly in the wind, but you barely noticed. Your gaze was distant and unfocused, caught between reality and thought. This was just second nature to him. Just muscle memory. Nothing more. 

You let a cheek rest lightly on his back, more out of necessity than affection, or so you told yourself. The low, steady roar of the bike filled the silence between you as he sped through the streets, guiding you both toward the safety of his apartment. 

You were fine. This was fine. 

You weren’t going to read into it, you never did. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

A little while later, he pulled into a quiet brick building nestled just a few ways away from the Capitol. As the motorcycle came to a stop, you swung your leg over and quickly stepped off, removing the helmet and letting it hang loosely on your side. The neighborhood before you was calm and unassuming, the kind of place where people walked their dogs at dusk and kids left their bikes on the steps. Trees lined the sidewalks, their branches rustling gently in the breeze, and clusters of native flowering bushes bloomed with the kind of effortless charm that only came from being carefully tended to. 

Bucky led you through the front doors of his apartment building and up to his unit, unlocking it with ease. He pushed the door open and stepped aside, letting you go in first.

“Make yourself at home,” he said casually, his voice warm as he hung his keys on a small hook by the door.

You placed your backpack and his helmet on the couch, your eyes examining your surroundings. The apartment, much like himself, was understated but intentional. The space was minimalistic, but not cold. Everything had a purpose, and nothing felt out of place. The furniture was simple and functional, built for the comfort of a single man, yet it still gave the space a quiet charm. The walls were mostly bare, painted in muted, neutral tones. But above the couch hung a vintage map of Brooklyn, the colors faded with age, with corners slightly curled. A nostalgic tribute to the place he still called home in his heart. 

What truly drew your attention, though, was the bookshelf tucked away in the corner of the living room. You found yourself drifting toward the shelf while he headed into the kitchen without a word, the sound of the refrigerator opening faint in the background. The shelf was more than a storage space for novels; it felt like a time capsule. It held a collection of memories and fragments of identity that Bucky let speak for themselves. Dog-eared novels of well-loved paperbacks lined the shelf—Hemingway, Baldwin, Fitzgerald, and Twain. There were newer ones too, titles you recognized instantly because you were the one who had recommended them. You smiled to yourself, feeling a small tug of surprise and warmth in your chest. You never thought he’d actually take your suggestions seriously, much less keep them. And yet, there they were, nestled between the literary giants like they belonged. Some even had worn spines and folded corners, proof that he hadn’t just bought them to be polite, he had read them, really read them.

But it wasn’t just the books that captured you. It was the small trinkets nestled between them that told a different story. 

There were framed photos, some in color, some in black and white. A shot of him and Steve, mid-laugh in front of Coney Island, a frozen echo of simpler days. Another, more recent, with Sam grinning beside him, sunglasses on like he owned the world. And then there was the one that made you pause: a photo of Bucky in his 1940s Sergeant uniform. His expression was proud, boyish, and untouched by the weight of what would come after. You found yourself tracing the edge of the frame with your fingertips, wondering what kind of man he was back then, before HYDRA, before the Winter Soldier. Before the world tried to break him.

Your musings were swiftly interrupted by a soft mrow echoing from the hallway. Your eyes darted toward the sound, then flicked to Bucky, who was still in the kitchen, too preoccupied with ordering food on the phone to notice you snooping around his living room.

Curiously, you padded quietly down the hallway toward the noise. At the end of it, lounging like she owned the place, was a fluffy white cat. She was elegant, clearly a ragdoll, with a silky coat and mismatched blue and yellow eyes that tugged instantly at your heartstrings. Before you could even kneel or say anything, the feline rose and began trotting toward you with confidence, her little bell collar chiming softly with each graceful step. You crouched instinctively, a grin tugging at your lips as she nuzzled against your leg like she’d known you forever. You got hold of her collar and turned it around to see the cat’s name. Alpine.

“No, no, no!” Bucky called from behind you, his voice laced with sudden panic. “She—”

He stopped short as he watched you scoop the cat effortlessly into your arms and cradle her like you had done it a hundred times before.

“—bites,” he finished weakly, blinking in disbelief.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said with a soft laugh, nuzzling her fur as she purred contentedly in your arms. “She’s the sweetest thing. She just walked right up to me.”

Alpine rubbed her head against your chin, purring like a small motor and clearly smitten. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he was short-circuiting. This was definitely not how he expected things to go. He'd anticipated claws, maybe a hiss, possibly even you swearing never to step foot in his apartment again, not you holding Alpine like a baby and kissing her on the head.

“I locked her in my room before I went to get you,” he confessed, still staring at the cat in disbelief. “I don’t know how she got out.”

“What can I say?” you replied smugly, scratching behind Alpine’s ears as she melted into your chest. “Cats love me.”

Bucky let out a small breath of laughter, but the smile that followed was something else entirely. It was soft and unguarded in a way you weren’t used to seeing from him. It wasn’t the polite grin he donned at work; this was warm, and it pulled at something within you despite how hard you tried to pretend it didn’t.

Bucky blinked and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself out of whatever trance he’d slipped into. 

Then, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, cutting through the moment like a blade.

“Pizza’s here,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, almost like he had forgotten how to speak. 

“Yeah, I got it,” you replied quickly, a little too quickly. You gently set Alpine down, earning a small meow in protest, though you barely registered it. Your entire focus was on putting distance between yourself and his warm, disarming gaze that made you feel both seen and exposed. You bolted toward the door like it might save you because staying in that moment for a second longer would’ve cracked something wide open, something that you weren’t entirely ready to admit even existed. 

You returned a few minutes later, heading straight to the kitchen, clutching the box like it was some sacred offering to the gods of casual indifference. Normal. You just needed normal. 

Despite your best efforts to sweep everything under the rug, the universe seemed to have a sick sense of humor. Standing before you was Bucky, his white dress shirt now unbuttoned and hanging loosely on his frame. Beneath it, his white tank top clung to him in a way that made you wish you hadn’t looked at all. To top it off, his hair was tousled too, like he had raked his hand through it one too many times. 

You dropped the box on the counter a little harder than necessary, flipping it open. The two of you wordlessly reached for a slice, your fingers brushing his just briefly, but the contact sent a jolt up your arm like you’d grabbed a live wire. You felt the heat rush to your face. 

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 

You bit into a slice with unnecessary focus, hoping the act of chewing would drown out your incessant thoughts. 

Ever since the gala, your brain had been on a reckless little joyride of stupidity, teasing the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was something there. Something more than the long hours you two spent together, the satisfying banter, and the way he always seemed to notice when you needed something before you even asked. 

But that was completely ridiculous. You blamed it on the proximity, on the caffeine-fueled late nights, on the way his voice sounded at 2 in the morning when both of you were buried in policy drafts and half-eaten takeout. You blamed it on the fact that you hadn’t been with anyone in years, that you were lonely, and maybe your standards had plummeted into dangerous, shark-infested territory.

But none of that mattered because this was your boss. Congressman James Buchanan Barnes. 

He wasn’t supposed to be a possibility, not even a consideration. Not with his title, not with your job, and definitely not with the line you swore you’d never cross. 

Your internal tirade was thankfully derailed when your eyes landed on a small stack of untouched, unopened, and suspiciously pristine dockets sitting nearly on the far end of the counter. Those were the same files you’d handed him last Friday, neatly and painstakingly compiled in preparation for the upcoming congressional hearing on the veteran aid bill the two of you had been pushing for. 

“I gave these to you last Friday,” you called out, placing your half-slice down and crossing the kitchen with growing suspicion. You plucked one of the folders off the pile and flipped it open. “Don’t tell me you’re procrastinating, the hearing’s in like five days.” 

“No, of course not,” Bucky scoffed, replying far too quickly for your liking, and springing into motion as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. He practically lunged for the files, his hand landing just beside yours. “I’m a slow reader. I’m working on it.”

“Sure, I’ll entertain your lies.” 

“I am!” He insisted, pressing his metal hand on his chest as if swearing an oath. “Okay, how about this: let’s read it together. Like the partners that we are.” 

You let out a deep sigh, more dramatically than intended, but you were already gathering the files and opening them to begin reading. 

“Fine,” you said, waving a hand. “Whatever it takes to get this bill passed and to make sure you don’t crash and burn during questioning.”

Bucky grinned, “What would I do without you?” 

“Get expelled from Congress.” You deadpanned.

You didn’t miss the way he stood closer than he needed to be. Or the way his fingers brushed yours again when he handed you a pen. Or how annoyingly aware you were of how warm he looked in that god forsaken tank top. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The two of you worked in perfect harmony, like a well-oiled machine that had been running for years—each movement seamless, each glance understood without needed explanation. You highlighted and annotated key sections of the bill, patiently talking him through the language, coaching him on how to sell it with conviction. Your notes were meticulous, filled with cues and conversational maps, anticipating every possible question or objection he might face. You were the strategist, charting the battlefield with deadly precision. He was the warrior, prepared to defend the legislation like it were something sacred. 

With one last slice left in the box and the clock ticking well past midnight, the two of you finally closed the last of the files. Everything was highlighted, annotated, and flagged. For once, you were ahead of schedule and had plenty of time for Bucky to go back through and add his own thoughts. A small victory, but it felt like a triumph.

You exhaled deeply and leaned back with a stretch, arms overhead as your spine cracked in relief. “Finally,” you mumbled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bucky reached for the last slice without looking up, flipping through the final few pages of the docket as he chewed thoughtfully. “No, it wasn’t bad,” he said, almost offhand, “but that’s only because you’re here.”

You barely had time to react before a dollop of sauce slipped from Bucky’s slice, landing right on the front of his crisp white dress shirt and barely streaking his vibranium forearm. Without thinking, you moved, reaching for a napkin and dabbing at the mess with brisk, practiced motions before it could soak into the fabric, or worse, find its way into the crevices of his mechanical arm. 

He stilled under your touch, his eyes dropping to your hands as they moved carefully and deliberately, as if this wasn’t the first time it happened. 

"You don’t have to look out for me so much, you know?” he said, voice quiet and unguarded. 

You didn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t,” you deflected breezily, “I just didn’t want that shirt to get ruined. It’s a good shirt, looks expensive.”

Bucky huffed a small laugh and leaned back slightly to let you toss the napkin into the trash. Then, without hesitation, he shrugged off the dress shirt entirely, leaving him in the fitted white tank underneath. The fabric clung to his shoulders and chest, and you averted your eyes before your thoughts could spiral again. 

“Oh, but you do,” he said with that infuriating half-smile. His voice was playful, but there was something heavier underneath that lingered.

“At least it didn’t get in the arm. I hate putting this thing in the dishwasher.”

You glanced back at him, “Your arm is dishwasher safe?” You asked, grateful for the shift in tone. You tilted your head, a smirk tugging at your lips, “Wow. Innovation.”

He chuckled, “Wakandan tech.” He said dismissively as if it was the most obvious, most casual thing in the world. Then he moved on to clean the counter, tossing the empty pizza box in the trash. 

“But seriously,” he added, glancing at you again, “I meant what I said. You’ve got this way of looking out for people. For me. I notice it.” 

You tried not to let his words settle. “It’s my job,” you said stiffly, wiping down the counter and moving the dockets to a cleaner surface. 

He only smiled gently, “No, it’s not. Your job is to make sure I don’t screw up legislation on the Senate floor. To prep me for hearings. It’s not staying up past midnight to coach me through policy language I should already know. It’s not sprinting across the kitchen to stop a stain from getting on my arm.”

Then, he paused, eyes softening, “It’s not caring like this.” 

You froze. You didn’t want to look at him, not with everything suddenly cracking wide open like this. You could’ve said something cold and sharp. Something to deflect. But for once, nothing came, and your usual wit failed you. 

Instead, you said quietly, “I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s just easier to take care of other people than deal with my own problems.”

There was a long silence before he responded.

“I do that too,” Bucky said finally, his voice stripped of pretense. “Pretend I’m fine. Push things down until they’re out of reach. I still fight battles in my head every damn day. And sometimes, I look at who I am now and wonder if it’s ever going to be enough to make up for the things I’ve done.”

You looked at him, seeing right through. For the first time, you didn’t see the Congressman, the anti-hero, or even the man you worked beside every day. You saw someone fractured and still healing. Somehow, that made him even more impossible to ignore. 

“I think you’re doing better than you think,” you said softly. “You’re not perfect, Bucky. No one is. But you care about this bill. You care about people. That matters. You matter.”

His jaw tightened like he wasn’t used to hearing that, not from anyone who meant it. He tried to smile, but it faltered under the weight of the moment.

“You really scare the shit out of me sometimes,” he murmured.

You blinked at him. “What…?”

He let out a quiet laugh through his nose, something halfway between affection and disbelief.

“Because I’m smart and capable?” you offered, trying to deflect with humor.

He shook his head. “No,” he said simply. “Because you see me. And… I don’t know what to do with that.”

And just like that, the air between you thickened again. Not with fear, but with understanding. The kind of quiet recognition that neither of you were quite ready to say out loud. For one suspended moment, it was just the two of you, unspoken things hanging heavy in the silence.

Then came the reality check. 

Bucky’s phone buzzed sharply against the countertop, the sound almost jarring. The screen lit up with Unknown Caller in bold letters. You both looked at it like it might explode.

“You going to get that?” you asked, the question more of a lifeline than anything else, a gentle nudge away from the dangerous emotional territory you’d both just wandered into.

“Yeah,” he said quickly, grabbing the phone like it gave him something to do with his hands. He hit the speaker. “This is Barnes.”

There was a moment of static, then a soft voice came through. “Hi. It’s Mel. Valentina’s assistant.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes widening. It worked. The stupid gala and the Mission Impossible-esque stunt you two pulled, it worked. You elbowed Bucky hard in the ribs, silently urging him to say something before the girl got spooked.

“Oh. Hi. Yes—hi, Mel, thank you for calling me. I didn’t—”

“I can’t talk long,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “So I’ll get to the point.”

You stilled and held your breath. Bucky didn’t even blink.

“I want to help,” Mel continued, rushed and panicked. “Val told me to incinerate evidence tonight. Records. Files. People.”

You exchanged another look with Bucky, both of your pulses spiking.

“—People who know too much. She told me to get rid of them, but they escaped somehow, and if you’re fast, you can find them. Get them to testify.” 

“Mel, you don’t know how much this helps us.” Bucky said quickly, leaning forward, “We’ll protect you. My partner is here, she can coordinate witness protection—“

“Thank you, Congressman, but I’m not interested.” Her voice tightened with fear, as if someone was or had already interrupted her. “Have a great night!” 

The call ended. Silence fell once more, sharp and electric.

You stared at Bucky’s phone. “Holy shit.” You muttered, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, “That was it! That was the seed! That was our shot!”

“Barely,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even tell us where they are. We don’t even have a lead.”

“Barnes,” you said, gesturing towards his laptop that sat on a nearby desk, “are you seriously not seeing the solution here?”

He blinked at you. “What solution?” 

“Track her phone.” 

He recoiled like you just suggested something nefarious. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

“Track. Her. Phone,” you repeated, enunciating every word like he was a particularly dense child. 

“I heard you,” he replied, frustrated. “I just don’t do that anymore.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “Yes, you do! You track me all the time.” 

“That’s different!”

“How is that different?” You threw your hands up. “You literally pinged my location last week because I didn’t answer your call during a Senate session.”

“That’s because you stopped answering me for four hours, and I thought you were dead!”

“I was at a dentist appointment!”

“Well, I didn’t know that at the time!” 

You stared at him for a beat, then gestured towards his laptop again, muttering, “You are so dramatic.”

He exhaled loudly, rubbing his temples. “Look, it’s not that simple. I’d need access to her internal files. It’s a whole thing.”

You tilted your head and gave him the look. The look.

“Don’t you dare give me the look.”

You didn’t blink, your gaze remained unflinching.

“I hate that look.”

Still no blink.

He groaned, defeated. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, getting up to fetch his laptop from the desk. 

“You know,” he added, pulling his laptop over and connecting his phone to it, “you are way too comfortable bossing around a former assassin.”

“Oh, just get to work, Barnes,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you smirked at him. 

There was a beat of silence, broken only by the sound of his fingers flying over his laptop’s keyboard.

Then, more quietly, more sincerely, he said, “I meant what I said earlier.”

You paused. “About what?”

“About you seeing me.” He met your eyes. “It still scares the hell out of me.”

You held his gaze for a long second before saying, gently, “Good. Because that means you’re still human.”

He smiled faintly. “Guess I better start acting like it.” The Next Day Brooklyn City Hall, New York 

You climbed the worn stone steps of Brooklyn’s City Hall, the early morning sun casting long golden shadows across the plaza. The chill of dawn clung to the air, but even after an early flight from D.C., your exhaustion faded and was replaced with anticipation.

Flanking you were a few of the event sponsors who were local business owners, nonprofit reps, and volunteers, each carrying boxes, tote bags, and clipboards as they trailed behind you. A local news van was parked at the curb, the station already broadcasting live segments as reporters flagged down early arrivals to get interviews. 

It had been a long, grueling week filled with late nights, last-minute approvals, a maze of calls and red tape, but somehow, you’d pulled it together. The Veterans Outreach event you’d been organizing was finally happening, and to your astonishment, it looked like everything might actually go according to plan. 

You pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped inside. Then you stopped, momentarily stunned at the sight before you. 

The main lobby of City Hall had been completely transformed. Booths lined the perimeter, draped in patriotic colors and banners offering support and resources for veterans. Each station was already buzzing with activity. Volunteers in matching t-shirts greeted attendees with easy smiles. A local acoustic jazz band played in the far corner, and the aroma of coffee and food truck fare drifted in from the open courtyard doors. 

You let out a long breath, your shoulders finally easing for the first time in days. 

Then, your phone buzzed in your hand, Bucky’s name and photo lighting up the screen. You answered quickly, stepping away from the crows and into a quieter corner of City Hall, tucking a hand over one ear to hear him better. 

“Barnes, this place is packed,” you said, barely containing your excitement. “The booths are full, the sponsors showed up, and even Channel 5’s out front doing coverage.” 

“I figured it would be,” Bucky replied, his voice warm despite the faint roar of wind and engine noise on the other end. “Listen… you’re going to hate me for this, but… I can’t make it.” 

You paused for a beat, then exhaled softly. “I know,” you said gently. “It’s okay. I figured when Mel called you yesterday.” 

There was a beat of silence that followed, filled with the low rumble of Bucky revving his motorcycle. Then—BOOM.

A sudden, deafening crash cracked through the line, followed by screeching tires and the unmistakable crunch of metal. 

“Hold on—” Bucky said abruptly. 

You froze, gripping the phone tightly in your hand. In the background, you heard the sharp click of a shotgun, followed by two loud bangs, then a barrage of gunfire. 

“Bucky?!” you hissed, instinctively glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one could hear you. “Are you out of your mind?! What the hell was that?!”

“Minor inconvenience,” he grunted. More gunshots rang out, his motorcycle revving again. “I’m multitasking.” “Are you being shot at right now?!” 

“No, not me. Hang on, you’re on my comms. Don’t hang up.”

Another crash. A deep, loud, metallic thud followed by the sound of a car door being ripped off its hinges. There was yelling in the distance, then silence, followed by Bucky’s heavy breathing and another round of shots. “Jesus Christ, Barnes,” you muttered, now pacing the quiet hallway like a storm in motion. “Are you seriously calling me mid-fight?” 

“I said I was sorry,” he replied, a bit breathless but still managing to sound maddeningly casual. “I found them. The people Valentina tried to get rid of. Contract workers. Assassins, maybe. Or former ones. Still figuring that part out.” 

“Assassins?! James, what the fuck?” You pinched the bridge of your nose, teetering on the edge of exasperation and just a tiny sliver of admiration. “You’re going to give me gray hairs. I’m going to develop a heart condition by the end—”

“—I’ll make it up to you,” He promised, a low laugh catching in his throat. “I just needed to check in. Make sure you were okay with the outreach and everything.” 

“You’re worried about me when you were just dodging bullets?!” 

“I knew you’d be fine,” he said softly, like a confession. “I think I just… wanted to hear your voice.” 

Your heart squeezed, traitorous and aching. You stood in stunned silence, letting his words settle like dust in a room you hadn’t dared to open. Before you could form a reply, the engine revved again on his end, and another crash thundered through the speaker.  

“I’ll call you back,” he said quickly, his voice clipped with urgency. “Let me just rein in these guys.” 

You sighed, even as the corners of your mouth betrayed you. “Be careful, idiot. And you better call me back.” 

You ended the call and lowered the phone slowly, staring at the darkened screen. An uninvited smile tugged at your lips. You hated how easily he could disarm you, how quickly a few words from him could slip beneath the armor you’d spent a long time perfecting. 

Of course he’d call you mid-fight. Of course he’d say something maddeningly sweet while dodging bullets. And of course, you felt your resolve crumbling all over again. It felt as if you were putting Band-Aids on a rapidly cracking dam. 

You had rules. Boundaries. Reasons. 

This was your job. He was your boss. You’d promised yourself this wouldn’t happen, that you wouldn’t entertain the topic of romance while building your career. You were busy and too focused. There wasn’t room for anything else besides work.

And on top of that, he was reckless, complicated, and always halfway out the door.

You knew better.

Yet here you were, standing in the middle of a quiet hallway with a stupid grin and a pulse that hadn’t calmed down since the call ended. 

You tried so hard to draw a line between you and him. You were supposed to be professional, responsible, even detached, but the truth was, you never meant for it to hold. 

“Boyfriend?” came a voice behind you, startling you out of your thoughts. 

You turned to see one of the younger interns, the one in charge of the event’s social media coverage, peering at you with a knowing grin. “Or was that Congressman Barnes? Are you two finally...?”

You narrowed your eyes, but the flush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “Get back to work, please.”

The intern laughed and raised her hands in mock surrender before disappearing back toward the courtyard.

You lingered for a moment longer, letting your fingers toy with the edge of your blazer before finally tucking your phone away. The lobby ahead of you was filled with activity, volunteers guiding people, voices over the PA, distant music, but your thoughts were miles away, wrapped around the sound of his voice. 

You walked back to the main lobby, the weight of the morning pressed gently against your chest, and a curve of a smile still tugging at your lips. 

Damn him and damn the way he made you question whether the walls you’d built were really protecting you anymore. 

Maybe it was just keeping something good from getting in.

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if you're silent enough, you can hear me screaming

[goth-mami-writer]

Hii, first of all thanks for the best King Baldwin fanfic. I am deeply in love with it 🩵💚

I am here to ask: how would Baldwin react if his wife got mad at him for some reason and refused to spend time with him or wouldn't talk to him? I like to think that the reader is close enough to him to dare to do that.

Headcanon: If Baldwin believes you to be upset with him, he does want to give you space but he knows the only consolation you'll receive is by him finding you to explain his intentions. He becomes very blunt but remains gentle when trying to rectify anything unsavory between you. He'll find quiet ways to entice you back into talking to him and he knows your buttons to push where you can't deny him.

And I WILL include a small snippet for evidential purposes! 😉🥹

⬇️⬇️⬇️

《 After you gave no look in his direction when you entered his day study that night, per your usual to help gather his finished scribings and signatures, he knew that you were still upset from this morning. He bit his tongue from telling you to turn around and face him, but he knew to quiet his own feelings when approaching this more carefully. He didn't have to be here in the room at this present moment, but it was the only way to strategize himself in front of you without telling you to speak to him.

That morning, during a meeting of petitions between commoner lords and other noblemen of the Holy Land, he interrupted you during your address to resolve a matter brought to your attention. He knew that it had annoyed you - just by the look you'd given him in the moment as he took the address into his own hands. But he had his reasons for taking you from your platform, and he wanted you to understand.

When you passed by him in silence, he took hold of one of your thin night silks as it met his outstretched hand to gently keep you from straying further away from his seat. You felt the soft tug that halted you so sweetly in place, and for the first time in hours- you looked down to him. He hated when your gaze held that look of indifference, or maybe that was your own show of true anger - indifference, and he said firmly,

“I don't prefer you to keep your gaze from me. Speak your mind-”

You couldn't hold back any longer. Your hand gently shook at your side when you began aiming your frustrations directly at the source.

“Now you grace me to speak my mind? Where was this great courtesy this morning?” You argued with your voice matching his own in the heated whispers that rattled the air between you now. You hated to spar your words with him. Firstly, it was a challenge you could never win. Secondly, it felt disparaging to how much you loved him to even question his actions.

“So, this is about this morning. You've spent an entire day in silence over a miniscule quibble-”

“You spoke over me, Baldwin. You treat my partaking in petitions, in council- like they are ramblings of a child that should quickly be silenced so the adults may converse. Yet my indignance confounds you?”

He looked away in silence when he chose his next words, carefully threading and stitching them into his prepared apology that he knew would be the only right way to amend this wrong brought by his own need for total control of the throne. He brought his eyes back to you, turning his chin upwards to coax you closer while he spoke,

“Have you any need for me to explain myself? Or is resolution too soon for your anger? Everything I do, say, pray and wish holds a very fine purpose. And if you can believe it, I have no wish to overstep your rulings. Nor have I ever- if you can recall.”

You felt quieted already by his firm intention of explaining his reasoning although…you wished deeply that he would've done that earlier before you did, in fact, spend the whole day in scoffing silence. He leaned forward in his seat, and when he reached for your hands, you assumed he wanted to hold them as he lovingly spoke, but it was far more.

Gently, you became pulled into his lap, your legs straddling his waist even from under your night gown, which made you blush warmly with a turned chin to hide it. That is until he pulled your gaze back to him with a bent knuckle. You often worried someone would barge in to see the both of you like this, but somehow, you always got away with the act.

“You must…forgive me for speaking over you. I wish that I hadn't- but…do you understand that there are people before our throne that see you as lesser merely for the fact of you being a woman?”

“Of course I do, Baldwin-” you said exasperatedly but still tender to his softer demeanor now that the arguing had slowed.

“Then you must understand that there is a way that those same noblemen speak to you in respect to your sex, in respect to your power, and in respect to our marriage -..”

He asked if you disagreed that before he interrupted you that the petitions from that particular Lord had turned somewhat sour in motives and you….couldn't disagree. Yes, it was becoming scrupulous for you in finding fairness during that moment of petition but you thought that you could handle the dispute.

“I cannot become the Queen you deserve if I cannot handle moments of contest on my own-”

“Why would I ever stand by and allow you to face it alone, angel?” He said with every word bringing his hands closer to your face where he sweetly brought your forehead to his own. Your silence now felt much lighter, more heartfelt than the one you'd given him that day and it was freeing. When he spoke again, his hands remained at your delicate jaw to keep your attention.

“You're the queen of the Holy Land. It is my sacred and cherished duty to uphold myself and others in the highest respect in your presence. Yet, I know that sometimes answering that duty will paint me ill-mannered. I am sorry.”

Your eyes softened further to hear him apologize so vastly for what you knew to be a small grievance. Arguing and disagreeing wasn't like either of you, but any dissonance at all between you was unlike your relationship entirely, which was reason enough for such a thorough reset such as this.

You kissed the temple of his mask, which he thanked with a soft hand tangled through your hair. You smiled, still perched upon his lap in an embrace, and you whispered softly, trying not to laugh too soon after making up,

“I'm the luckiest thing in the world to hear the king of Jersualem grovel for my affections, you know?”

“I shan't grovel for anything less.” He said, returning the muted snicker in his voice as he continued to hold you close. 》

I hope this wasn't overkill, but if it was, i hope it was overkill you enjoyed!!! 🖤

[suzuran777]

Review: Ooe Complete Edition + ending names explained

I finished the second part of Ooe which was finally released last week! I have so many things I want to talk about as I loved the game, so I think it's going to be impossible without mentioning any spoilers. If you want to read a completely spoiler-free post about the game, I've summarized most of the common route in my review of part 1. I also made a general post about the plot of the game and the characters which you can find here, though I wrote it some time ago, so some of the speculations might be a bit outdated now (I do try to keep it up to date, but I don't want to change everything as it's fun to look back at later).

I'll of course put a warning when I'll be talking about any big spoilers, but I will mention the route order and which characters have 18+ content, so if you want to avoid that, it's better to read this later.

The update + recommended route order After the update on the 19th, all versions of the game were updated to the "complete edition", so if you already own the game, you can just redownload this for free. It's possible to transfer save files to skip the first routes (a guide how to do this is included in the game files), but it also doesn't take too long to just skip through the first 3 routes. Just like part 1, most of the routes only unlock after playing some other routes first, so usually you can just start a new game after finishing one ending and see if a new choice pops up somewhere in the game. The route order for the first 3 routes is Ariake (who has two endings) > Shimbashi > Aomi, and afterwards you can either play Shiodome ending B or Takeshiba's route. After this the route order is Shijoumae > Shiodome ending A > Toyosu > Hinode > Funeno > Daiba. If you want to enter a route, you should select the choice on the right side of the screen. Some choices don't have a silhouette of the character, but the choice to enter their route will still be on the right side. Just like part 1, you might get some other choices in some routes, but most of these don't matter and you can try out all dialogue options. If you're unsure if you missed an ending, you can check the status screen by pressing the camera roll button next to 再開 in the main menu screen. Occasionally an ending wouldn't register for me and I had to go back to replay it once more.

The story of part 2 While part 1 seemed to focus more on the mystery who committed the murders on the island and Oosaki's own backstory, part 2 focuses on the characters who didn't have their own routes in part 1. In most of the new routes you don't really try to find the culprit for any new crimes anymore, as we already saw that in part 1, but I think it's more about trying to understand the characters better, and of course finding out the real reason why they gathered on the island. Almost all of the new routes have 18+ scenes, though Hinode and Toyosu don’t have one. Like mentioned in the initial setting & data collection book, Shiodome has 2 separate routes, which is why the new update mentions it added 8 routes rather than 7 (no secret Shinkiba or Shinagawa route lol). Part 2 also has a new ending song which is really good, so I can’t wait for it to be officially released on Adelta’s Booth page (which is soon I think!). I really liked Takeshiba's route and also Daiba, who does in fact have a route (he used to be promoted as a side-character, though I think this was done on purpose to mess with us lol). There is some information in the game that you'll only learn about through the letters you unlock in-game after finishing every route, but generally I think the plot and the mysteries of the game are not too difficult to understand. One of the latest blog updates also mentions that this isn't a difficult game in which you have to guess the culprit, but a game in which you can find ''various forms of love'' which you definitely do…

Review of each route (beware of spoilers!) From now on I'll be talking about spoilers for each route! I'm not going to describe everything that happens of course, but it will include some pretty important plot elements. The first route I played was Shiodome's B route, but I didn't know that his other ending was locked, so maybe starting with Takeshiba is a better option!? I really liked how the color green was used in the CGs in this route, and how even the main menu screen temporarily changed after finishing it. The theme of cannibalism returns, as Shiodome ends up eating one of Oosaki's eyes and ears… and Shinagawa and Shinkiba aren't happy at all that Oosaki decides to stay with someone like this. There are a few Kotou no Oni references in this route too which I liked, such as Oosaki's hair partially turning white. Ending A is locked until you finish Takeshiba's and Shijoumae's routes, but ending A is the complete opposite and actually has a much happier ending. I liked how cute Shiodome was in this, wanting to be Oosaki's wife… Two completely different sides of one character.

Takeshiba's route ended up becoming one of my favorites as he's ??? so cute ???. The extra pamplet that comes with the game doesn't rate his appearance very high but I disagree! One of the reasons I was pretty surprised by this route is that he was very violent in most of the first routes, but this doesn't really happen in the new routes. He does try though... but he's not strong enough to attack Oosaki and he gives up... What a clown, I love him. His backstory (the circus, and his mother being a snake lady) reminded me of Suehiro Maruo's Shoujo Tsubaki, which is a reference many other fans have noticed as well, and one of the new illustrations also shows him wearing a shirt which matches the pattern of the dress protagonist Midori wears, so I'm sure that's all on purpose. It also references Dazai's No Longer Human too, as his first name Youzou is the same as the main character in the novel, but he also has a (non blood related) daughter called Shigeko who he tried to care for. I think his character profile mentions that she was eventually adopted by another family, but I hope they'll meet again, as he even learned sign language to communicate with her. I'm not sure if he would be a great father, but it's really sweet to see him try... I loved his scenes with Oosaki in the ending too and I'd love to see more of this pairing!

I was very curious about Shijoumae's route as he usually pairs up with the murderers in other routes and will immediately betray others and lie, which... doesn't stop in his own route! And I love that for him. This route sometimes references a short story called Kaika no Satsujin where Shijoumae's first name also comes from. Shijoumae has a wife called Akiko who is also mentioned in this short story, though in the original story he never marries her and she ends up with another guy called Mitsumura (whose name also returns in the game, but in Ooe he's the psychologist Shijoumae talked to). Akutagawa Ryūnosuke's novel Kappa is also referenced in this route by Shijoumae himself. I really like the dynamic between Shijoumae and his wife Akiko... I think they go long periods without seeing each other and I don't think their marriage is anything romantic, but she still cares about him and sends assassins after those who wish him harm lol. I wonder if that's how he survived all this time because he's such a bad liar. She used to be a war painter, which back then were used by the Japanese government to spread propaganda, so I think she's a good match for Shijoumae, who has also done countless of bad things during the war. This route branches off where you'd normally already be in Ariake's route, so Shijoumae kills him and Oosaki's in despair once again. By the way, Shijoumae's character profile mentions that he will outlive Oosaki and will even watch his final moments, so I'm not sure if he will truly get his justice lol.

The next route is Toyosu's route, which doesn't have an 18+ scene liked I mentioned before, but the writing of this route was really good and it helped me understand the motives he had! This is also the first route in which Oosaki smiles... his smile is beautiful. It's confirmed that Toyosu passes away shortly after his ending so I don't think Oosaki will be spending a lot of time with him anymore, but the moments they had were beautiful. In this route Oosaki's first name "Hiiro" is also revealed, which literally translates to scarlet and has actually been in the first ending song dying breath all this time.

Toyosu's route unlocks Hinode's route, which explains that it was Hinode who kind of hijacked Toyosu's plan to make everyone come to the island, as he's looking for the person who killed Ooe An, who used to work together with his mother. Even thought there's not really any romance in this route, his character profile mentions that he develops feelings for Oosaki later when he's an adult, so I would love to see that some day. I think Hinode never learned who the real killer of Ooe An was, so I wonder if they will tell him the truth one day. The final letter you receive in-game is his mother's letter, which implies she killed An, and then ended her own life afterwards. In a previous blog post I discussed the first names and their references, but I honestly have no idea if Hinode's name ''Riichi'' and his mother's name ''Riko'' are references to anything yet, as they are both pretty common names. I will add this information if I ever find it!

Funeno's route was definitely very different than all the previous routes lol. Some extra information about his was posted on Bluesky, but I also thought it was intentionally designed to make the player a bit uncomfortable and confused. Funeno gets humiliated a lot, and it's also kind of a harem ending which could be a reference to the Anatahan Incident in which all men fight over one woman, though in this case they're not really fighting and they all just share Oosaki lol. Oosaki does get an 18+ scene with Funeno later at least! This route also kind of felt like a comedy route to me because some things that happened were so absurd. I've seen a lot of mixed reactions to this route specifically, but I did enjoy parts of it. Both Funeno's first name and the way he brutally killed his fiance Momoko are references to Dogra Magra, which I've written a bit about in my previous blog post about the character names and their references which I also linked above.

After every ending you finish, you unlock a new letter, of which most seem to be written by Ooe An. I don't really want to spoil every detail of the letters and Daiba's route, but I did enjoy the twist how you shouldn't just believe everything characters say in this game. The final letter also reveals some more information about Hinode's mother (who was the person who turned Ooe An into an actress), and that she tried to do what's best for Hinode. An is usually described in the game as a girl who manipulates men and who lies, so I also don't know which of her letters in the game are true, but Shijoumae wasn't lying (for once) when he said her death was never a suicide at all. Daiba as a route character was really good too and I liked seeing his interactions with Oosaki. I remember reading that everyone in this game was a virgin or at least hasn't slept with a man before, but the 18+ scene with Daiba made it look like this was not his first time with a man at all lol, he was covered in hickeys. I do love it when Oosaki gets jealous though, so this scene was really great.

The title of the game also changes when you finish this route. Normally it's written with the kanji for impurity/filth (穢), but when you finish it, it changes to ''江'' again which means bay and a common kanji used in names for islands. I wonder if it's supposed to symbolize something like Oosaki moving on from his past, or perhaps because the characters admitted their own sins. In the end, most of the characters are still murderers and they might never change, but I did enjoy seeing the different types of relationships Oosaki had with all of these characters, and I'd love to see what kind of content Adelta releases in the future. The after-stories are already confirmed, so I can't wait until these get uploaded.

List of ending names and their meanings This isn't about the titles of the songs which I've discussed in the part 1 review, but about the titles you can see in the status menu in-game (the little movie scroll icon). I had to look up some of these terms as I’m not familiar with all of them, but I thought it would be fun to write a little bit about this too and I'm curious how this will be translated in the English version.

Ariake's B ending which you unlock first is called 送火 Okuribi, which literally translates to the ''farewell fire''. This is a ceremony held on the last day of Obon to send the returning spirits of ancestors off to the afterlife. I think this could also be a reference to Oosaki killing some of the other attendees before someone burns down the inn. Ariake's other ending, ending A is called 迎火 Mukaebi, which is the complete opposite and translates to ‘’welcome fire’’. This is the ceremony that is held on the first day of Obon to welcome the spirits.

Shimbashi's ending is called 冥界 Meikai which literally translates to ''underworld'', but I think it's also a reference to Shimbashi himself, as the kanji for his first name ''Mei'' is in it. ''Pluto'', the name which he uses for his theater company, is also the god of the underworld in Roman mythology. Aomi's ending is called 挽歌 Banka which is a song or poem written to mourn the death of a person, which might be referencing the death of Aomi's father and his occupation as a music teacher.

Shiodome also has two endings, with the B ending being called 抱擁 Houyou, which means ''embrace''. I'm not sure if this references anything specific, but it is the only ending in which Shiodome tells Oosaki what his grandmother really thought about him (of course we don't know if this was really true, but it is something Oosaki has been looking for). The title for his A ending is 大祓 Ooharai, a Shinto ritual to cleanse people of their sins and impurities. In Shiodome’s case he paid for his sins by going to prison, so I think it could possibly be a reference to that too.

Takeshiba's ending is called 福音 Fukuin which translates to gospel, or the teachings of Christ. This of course references that he at some point turned to Christianity. Shijoumae's ending name on the other hand was a bit more difficult to analyze, as it's called 彼岸 Higan, which can refer to multiple things. The literal meaning is ''the opposite side of a shore of a river or ocean'', so it could be referencing how different Oosaki and Shijoumae's ideologies are, though it can also mean ''reaching nirvana''.

The title of Toyosu's ending is 正体 Shoutai which means ''one's true identity'', of course referencing Toyosu's role in the story, as he is the one who made the plan to gather all of them on the island. Hinode's ending is called 蠱毒 Kodoku which I did have to look up, but it's really interesting! This seems to be some type of ritual in which a large number of venomous insects are put into a jar and made to cannibalize each other, which in some way, is what Hinode has been doing on the island. In almost all of the routes he doesn't directly try to attack anyone, and instead he waits for the other attendees to kill each other.

Funeno's ending is called 習合 Shuugou, another term I had to look up because I haven't seen it before. It seems to be the fusion of different things such as religion, culture etc. and is also used to refer to the fusion of Shinto and Buddhist beliefs. I don't know if I should look too much into this, as Funeno's route is not the most serious, but I'm wondering if could mean that he still stays with Oosaki despite everything Oosaki has been doing with the other attendees (?). Lastly, Daiba's (or Shizuma')s ending is called 椿事 Chinji, which translates to ''an important, yet unexpected event''. This route is of course a lot different than the other routes because Oosaki never ends up going to Ooejima, as he notices Daiba is lying to him and doesn't accept his request, unlike all of the other routes.

I might add some more information later but like always, this post is getting long, so I hoped it was interesting to read!

[possesseddesiress]

Switch Up: First Level

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Switch Up: First Level (English Version)

My name is Ethan, I'm going to finish high school in a few months and I feel like I didn't live that experience like I was supposed to. I always hung out with my two usual friends, didn't go to parties, didn't even have my first kiss, I hung out in the shadows, like a ghost.

With nothing in particular to be remembered, a zero to the left.

Very different from other guys at my school: popular, muscular, handsome, a hit at parties. I envied them.

I wanted to be one of them with all my might.

To go beyond being a shadow that blended in with the wall in the hallways, to be like one of those big jocks, popular guys, even those “badass” looking guys who seemed to be all the rage because of that.

— This sucks - I muttered in the library, accompanied by my friends: Logan and Miles.

Logan was a chubby guy, with a few pimples on his face and a comic geek, just at that moment he seemed engrossed in everything as he had his head hidden inside a new hero tome.

— Being in the library? - Miles asked. Thin, pale and with thick glasses that made his eyes look like binoculars, he was a genius, although he had a strange hissing sound every time he spoke.

— Yeah, what about the parties? It's high school, we should be doing other things than being confined to a library like rats.

— We're not popular for that sort of thing - Logan mused, barely peeking his head out of his reading.

— Plus no one notices us - Miles complemented, making what appeared to be doodles in his notebook.

— And doesn't that frustrate you? Don't you wish that we could have more? To have more experiences, more fun, guys at our feet.

Something I forgot to mention, all three of us are gay.

— And does it help to imagine that?… You're not going to change anything by yearning for more - Logan whispered in a pessimistic tone.

I sighed, I knew he was right. I just kept quiet, with a silence between the three of us until Miles stood up suddenly, a smile on his lips.

— Eureka! - he shouted with the notebook in hand, a loud ‘Shhh’ was heard from the librarian, to which he sat back down, but without erasing that smile.

— Do you feel good? - I asked. To which he interrupted me, speaking quickly because of his excitement.

— Better than ever, I've been feeling what you describe for three years now, it's been trial after trial, failed experiments trying to find a way to get it, but I finally got it.

— What the hell are you talking about?

— This! - he held out his notebook, showing me the contents on it. What I saw as scribbles before, now made sense: they were blueprints. There was a detailed outline of some kind of rectangular box, with formulas, calculations and other symbols that I couldn't quite understand.

— A… box?

— It is a remote control. Or so it seems - he detailed, pointing to the schematic - it is a bioelectric control, it is designed to launch a double signal that exchanges neural pulses between two individuals and-

— In English, Miles.

— It is a control that would allow consciousness to be switched between two bodies.

I thought about what he was saying. But it was impossible, wasn't it? What he was describing sounded perfectly like something from science fiction movies.

— But you'd still have to assemble it, design the parts, the wiring…

— No - he said, rummaging in his backpack to pull out a small remote control, it looked like something from a garage. With two buttons: one green and one yellow - I just had to complete some calculations.

On one side, it seemed to have a knob, around it were different numbers. Miles lifted the lid to move a couple of wires or join them together, then closed it and moved the knob, looking for a frequency, I guess.

— Still, I don't think it's something possible, I mean…. I believe in you, dude, no doubt you are a genius but I think this kind of thing is beyond….

— Your mental capabilities, Miles - and out of nowhere, the speaker seemed to be Logan. With the only detail, that it wasn't really Logan, it was me.

I found myself looking at cartoons, heroes saving the world and things my friend was reading earlier. I felt heavier, but there was something weird about it all too… I felt a different weight in my pants.

I spread my legs a little, feeling something thick fall against the chair - damn, Logan sure had something hidden between his chubby legs!

I looked up warily, finding my reflection checking my pecs. He looked at them curiously, running his hands over the flat surface as he smiled.

— Were you saying something, Ethan? - Miles said with a smirk on his lips. I looked at my new hands, completely surprised by the experience. They were very different from mine, a little more pigment on them, bigger and bulkier, with small, stubby fingers. It certainly wasn't the best body but there was something about me that sent a load of blood down there. And yes, “it” was big.

— Did you just use us as guinea pigs? - My old voice rang out, it was strange to “see” me there, clearly it was me, my same face, clothes, complexion, absolutely it was all me. But the stance, the body language, the way he spoke… it was definitely Logan.

— It was a risk he was willing to take for us, besides. I had already calculated the dangers, nothing would have happened.

— And why didn't you try it on yourself?

— And what my conscience would have ended up in the air who knows where? No thanks.

I felt a little annoyance towards Miles. But all that was… spectacular. If it had worked on us, then anything could. I could been any athlete! A class rep, one of those artsy kids or the welcoming committee, a teacher, some sexy parent. Whoever!

— And now?…

�� First let me try something - Miles pointed at each of us again, first at Logan, pressing the yellow button, and finally at me, pressing the green button.

I didn't feel anything. It was just from one moment to the next watching me and the other, watching Logan. I touched my body again, feeling a little more relief at finding my correct measurements. There was one detail though, my manhood was undoubtedly stiff, almost rock hard.

I looked at Logan in confusion, to which he just shrugged his shoulders.

— It was exciting to lose almost all my weight in less than a second, sorry.

There was silence between us again. Not because of discomfort, but because of all that this implied.

— And now?

— Now you choose what to do, of course - Miles settled back in his seat, almost looking like some kind of CEO proposing a new business strategy - To continue in our bodies and the miserable life we lead, or find some body we like.

There was a bit of silence. And the first to break it was Logan.

— Let's do it.

— Great, I'm glad you're both joining me in this - a smile loaded with confidence emerged from Miles - I think we have the plan, but now the million dollar question remains. Who?

There were at least three hundred of guys in the entire high school, all grades, all clubs. Tall, muscular, thin, stocky, exchange, local, wealthy, middle class. It was like walking into a buffet.

— Do you have someone in mind for you…?

— Oh, yeah, sure. Blake Jones.

— Fuck, are you kidding?! The major captain of the sports team? - Logan was unduly surprised.

Although I partly understood. Blake was good at almost every sport, he'd been the captain of at least 4 different disciplines, king of the prom, made almost every girl nervous, teachers and moms included. He was like a god walking on earth, his plan felt like taking the body of Hercules.

— Who else? - Miles raised his eyebrow, as if the question was silly - I want him, I want that greatness.

There was something in his gaze that chilled my skin, though I understood the sentiment... Miles had been in the shadows of many things just because of his looks and the way he spoke, it was clear he wanted the perfect “vehicle” to go with his brain.

— So… I want Caleb Hawks - Logan said.

Miles let out a laugh.

— Don't make it up, it's a joke, right? - But Logan was silent - The brainless guy in school with the worst smell of all, is it for real?

Miles was right, Caleb was known for his idiocy, his bad smell and for being relatively “unpleasant”. There was something about him that could be striking, he admitted, though he didn't quite know what that something was.

— Can it or can't it? - Logan said seriously.

— Yes, yes. It's your decision, chill, man - Miles said. To which it seemed to calm down Logan, so he went back to hiding behind his comic book - And you, Ethan, who will be your prize?

My mind was working like crazy, going through all the grades, all the sports and art clubs, student associations, exchange programs, teachers? It was an endless menu of options. But then I thought of him: Ruben Hernandez.

Part of the art committee, good actor, influencer and with attributes to die for, despite not being part of any sports team, he certainly had a perfect body.

— Ruben.

— The Latino?

— Will you also give me a but?

— Not at all, I'm just surprised at your choices, folks. I thought you would pick captains and jocks, but I respect your choices.

Logan looked up, finally closing the comic book.

— So when do we start?

— Easy. Everyone hunts for what they want.

Then Miles extended the control to us, waiting for whoever would take it first.

To be continued.

----

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This is the first part of “Switch Up”, a new series for the blog, I hope you like it, I know this first episode was a little short, but the next ones will certainly be longer to follow the whole adventure of Ethan and his friends.

See you in the next story… Who knows what body you'll occupy this time?

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[luunaz]

First Date [Caleb]

pairing: Caleb x reader

type: fluff 🌸

an: I decided to start writing about love and deepspace. It's fluff, but include light hot scene, i guess?? I hope you enjoy it <3.

Masterlist

The endless blue sky is visible through the windshield of the aircraft, and snow-white clouds envelop the steel hull. Somewhere below you can see a city with an endless chain of cars and a maze of houses.

Caleb has been dreaming of showing you his world for a long time. He wanted to forget about earthly problems for a moment and take you to a place where it would be just the two of you. At one point, he even thought it was a pipe dream. Every time he faced the cold and lonely days in Skyhaven, he thought that things would never be the same again. He couldn't stand the thought of you saying you hated him one day. He was both eager to see you and afraid to meet your indifferent gaze. And now that you're here with him, watching this landscape and admiring it, he's so happy.

The man showed you the control panel of the plane, told you about the purpose of each button. Of course, you didn't remember any of this, but you really didn't want to interrupt him. It was interesting just to watch the way he talks, the way his eyes sparkle, and how relaxed he is at this moment. He also told you funny stories, just to see you smile, to hear your ringing laugh.

You returned to the airfield closer to sunset. Your date came to an end, but Caleb didn't want it to end. Even a lifetime would not be enough for him. He's selfish when it comes to spending time with you. When you're about to leave, the guy grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap.

— I thought the flight was over, Colonel, — you tease Caleb, making him grin.

— Let's sit like this for a while longer, — the guy says, pulling you closer to him. You can feel the heat from his body and the steady beating of his heart. He lightly touches your neck with his lips, as if he's teasing you, waiting for your next move. You smile, ruffling his hair. Of course, you don't mind staying a few more minutes, but it's too boring to just sit there.

You pull away from Caleb and meet his disappointed gaze. He looks like a puppy begging for treats. You grab his face and pull him towards you, feeling his cheeks burn under your palms. You place a light kiss on his hot and soft lips, then run your tongue over them. This gesture does not go unnoticed by Caleb. He exhales shakily and deepens the kiss. You can feel your heart pounding. Caleb could have lost his mind with just one touch from you. It's been so many years since he first realized he was in love with you. For so many painful years, when he tried to fight his feelings, when he tried to stifle them, but just looking at you was enough to make all these attempts fail. And now, hugging you, kissing you, he feels only desire and endless love.

Caleb nibbles lightly on your lips, but his kisses are getting more intense by the second. He lowers his hands from your waist to your hips, pulling you as close to him as possible. Caleb tries to be restrained, but he can't control his touch. He can't help but go crazy touching your soft skin with his fingers. The kissing is getting more and more chaotic. He leaves them on your lips, cheeks, nose, neck, causing you to have a burning desire that becomes too hard to resist. You squirm in his arms, causing the guy to moan softly.

— Caleb, — you say softly and plaintively, pulling away for a moment. But Caleb is not listening to you, his lips have already moved to your neck. —We have to go, — you had to make more effort to break the kiss. Caleb pulled away from your skin and looked at you. His amethyst eyes are clouded with desire. You can feel how hard it is for him to fight with himself.

— Okay, let's go, — Caleb said, sighing heavily. You don't even have time to take a step, as the guy grabs your hand and leads you to the exit of the plane. Now he only dreams of returning home as soon as possible, where you could continue what you started.

[canonizzyhours]

Before I say this I want to make it clear I am someone who overall likes Izzy. I wanted him to be redeemed and I liked his season 2 redemption arc. But there is something important about season 2 that I feel like I can only say here, because my more canyon-sympathetic moots would go nuts if I said it on main.

If you want to understand season 2 in a way that's not reading against the text you absolutely have to accept that the toe stuff is presented as comedy. Like some previous posts here said it's basically a loony toons gag. It's funny like how it's funny that Jim locked Lucius in a trunk for days and like it's funny how Roach and Buttons tried to kill and eat the Swede and like how it's funny that Ricky's nose got cut off. If you did not get that Izzy losing toes was supposed to be funny you cannot understand anything that comes after.

This isn't about woobifying Ed or excusing his actions. Ed does a lot of really bad things to his friends in the first two episodes. The bad things he does are

(1) being a really shitty boss - overworking everyone, being callous to his employees' needs, stealing paychecks by dumping loot overboard, etc;

(2) endangering everyone by steering into the storm;

(3) purposely making people who cared about him traumatize themselves by killing him; and

(4) shooting Izzy.

The shooting is clearly portrayed as out of line. THE TOES AREN'T THOUGH. THE TOES ARE PORTRAYED AS FUNNY.

The point of it is not that Izzy is being abused. The whole point of the "unhealthy relationship" line is that it's not actually domestic abuse, that's what makes it funny. Here is one of the ways you know they're supposed to be funny: remember when someone in the crew talked about how funny it was on instagram and a bunch of people screamed at her for thinking it was funny? It never occurred to her anyone would react that way because the entire cast and crew obviously understood it as funny.

(Including Con! He's clearly playing the scene as comedy on purpose with those little heem heem whimpers and it's doing an enormous disservice to his performance to refuse to see it! We KNOW he intended to play it as comedy because you can look back at the Vanity Fair article that came out before season 2 and he talks about how one of the challenges he faced in the season was going back and forth between comedy and drama and he SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS PLAYING IZZY'S FOOT INJURY AS COMEDY.)

People in the canyon are STILL mad about how they think there was a plotline in season 2 about Ed domestically abusing Izzy and wondering why the show didn't pay that off but the reason it didn't resolve that is because they imagined it. There was no domestic abuse plotline. There was a RUNNING GAG about Izzy losing toes, which was played as funny because the show expected you to understand that Izzy did in fact vote -- campaigned, actually -- for the leopards to eat his face. It's supposed to be funny while also at the same time making him pathetic enough that you can decide he's suffered sufficiently for what he did in season 1.

The show does not portray all of Izzy's suffering as funny! Like I said, the shooting is treated pretty seriously and that's why it gets brought up multiple times later in the season! But the toes, the toes are purely funny, and they're framed as funny because the narrative knows he deserved it.

#442.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Among Strangers II | Han + Bang Chan

Synopsis: You know nothing is ever as it seems. You never assume and you always expect for things to get a little messy. You didn't expect for things to end up like this though. Not like this...

Pairings: CEO Bang Chan x AFAB Reader x Han Jisung

Content Includes: smut, non idol au, light bondage, possessiveness, biting/marking, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie lots, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mfm, angst, jealousy, light fluff, happy ending.

an: there's a lot going on in this one and I'm sure I missed some content to list. If you feel that I should add it please let me know♡ Also forgive me if this doesn't do justice to part one... I tried ಠ⁠﹏⁠ಠ

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

PS: Those who asked to be tagged/asked for part 2 are tagged. If you want to be removed please let me know.

Also thank you to everyone who expressed their love for part one. Even if I didn't respond, your words meant more than you can ever imagine, more than I can even say♡

It's been a whole week since that steamy, unforgettable encounter with your hot new boss, Chris, in that crowded subway car. Now, every time you catch each other's gaze at work, it's like reliving that sweet sinful moment all over again. The memory of his hands on your skin and the warmth of his chest pressed against your back still lingers. The tension between you two is palpable, and your cheeks flush hot every time he brushes past you in the hall. His playful smile, those charming dimples, they only add fuel to the fire that continuously burns in you and the physical reactions your body has when he's near.

You've tried avoiding him but he's everywhere. Every turn there he is, dark eyes, hair perfectly styled and outfit tailored in all black perfection looking runway ready. Each time you've seen him and turned to walk in the opposite direction, there he is. It's like he spawns in front of you and there's nothing you can do but blush at the sight of him as he walks away with some important looking people. It isn't until Friday at the end of your shift that he catches you in the staff break room when you go to get your thermos from the fridge.

“You've been avoiding me, y/n ” Chris states, his voice low, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

You spin around startled, heart in your throat and too stunned to speak. The top three buttons of his black dress shirt are undone and his sleeve have been rolled up halfway. He looks breathtaking and the sudden sight of him throws you off. You didn't see much of him today so you figured he either was too busy or just left earlier but here he is looking just as sexy as he did that day on the subway. The way he’s looking at you right now you don't trust yourself being alone with him. Not while still being at work where there's a risk of anyone catching you two. Swallowing nervously you back up as he starts to walk towards you smiling.

“Do I make you nervous y/n?” He asks, getting closer to you. Your heart is pounding far too fast now. It would be a miracle if he couldn't hear it himself. Why is he making you react this way?

“No.” Your voice comes out small and weak as you lie. He can see the way your chest rises and falls rapidly that you're full of shit.

When he reaches you, your back is against the counter and he cages you with his arms, hands on the edge of the counter. You smell so good to him and he loves the soft blush on your cheeks. He wants to see it deepen while he's deep inside you. Every time he saw you earlier in the week he could feel his cock stiffen at the memory of your cunt around him. He wanted nothing more than to take you and bend you over his desk.

Just yesterday he lost it when he saw you in the hall wearing all black like him. He couldn't help but wonder if you did it on purpose. The tight black skirt that reached your knees hugged your curves and the blouse you wore made his imagination run wild. He took his erection in his hands in his office thinking about how pretty you would look on your knees with all of him down your throat.

“I could have you right here, right now y/n. I want to. Do you want me to?” You bite your lip and nervously look at the door behind him. “It's locked. Just say the word.”

You open your mouth to speak only to close it and nibble on your lip with your face full of uncertainty. It isn't that you don't want him. You positively want him in the worst way, in every way possible, yet you hesitate still. He's watching you, still smiling sweetly waiting for your answer and you can't help but notice the barely visible freckles that pepper his handsome face. They go from his cheek bones and up around the outside of his eyes like stars. You're lost in his beauty when you notice how red his ears have gotten and he chuckles.

“Like what you see y/n?” He teases trying to sound cocky but there's a shyness to his words. You take him by surprise when you nod and finally speak up.

“Yes. To both of your questions. My answer is yes.” You tell him and his brows go up in surprise before his hands are on your hips and he's kissing you, groaning when your lips make contact.

You wondered how those lush full lips would feel on yours and it's like nothing you could've imagined it to be like. His lips are soft and taste of strawberries as his tongue glides over yours before he nibbles on your bottom lip. Just with a kiss he makes you feel weightless, like you're suspended in the air. As the kiss grows more intense you can taste his need and Chris is lifting you up sitting you down on the countertop standing between your legs.

“Fuck y/n, do you have any idea how crazy I was feeling the whole week without hearing from you?” He asks after pulling away from your lips. “Nothing I did satisfied my hunger. Only your cunt can do that.” He kisses you again and rubs his hard bulge over your clit through your dress and hitches up the hem.

He reaches between you both and with his fingers rips your thong like it was made out of paper. Your moans are loud with shock but muffled by the kiss. He pulls back and looks at you with eyes like embers and kneels between your legs. He wastes no time in diving his hot tongue inside of you. He shows no mercy on your cunt and it doesn't take long to feel that electric sensation in you build but he stops just before you can reach your climax. He growls “no.” when he feels your muscles tighten around his tongue.

He looks up at you, his neat hair now a mess because of your greedy fingers and he says, “You'll cum on my cock again. I've got to feel you bear hug my cock like last time y/n.” He says standing up straight, flicking his belt out of the loops and it falls to the sides as he begins to unbutton and unzip his slacks. “I'd bound your wrist with my belt if I wasn't so fucking desperate to feel you.” With a clack his pants hit the ground and he snaps into your drenched sex hard.

In one thrust he's completely inside of you with a groan deep in his throat from the pleasure. Your eyes are on the ceiling, mouth hung open in a silent Oh. A moan that got stuck somewhere in your throat, lost in oblivion. You forget all about where you are, only that you can finally wrap your legs and arms Chris's muscular body and grind your pussy into him as he fucks you instead of having to be restricted. His cock feels so much lengthier this way and each time he bottoms out your moans get so loud you have to bite down on his shoulder over the neatly pressed black cotton of his shirt.

“Fuck y/n, I knew you'd feel amazing around me like this. Free to move, free to… ah. Free to crush me with your thighs.” He tells you and his arm wraps around your waist tighter. “Come back to my place after work tomorrow baby.” It's not really a question, though if you said no he wouldn't force you. He knows your mind is so muddled with lust and passion that you'll agree. Because you need him right now, because you're so close.

“Yes! Oh god Chris fuck. Yes I'll come. Fuck i'm gonna cum.” You gasp. Every breath leaving your lungs is cut short with each of his rough thrusts and he smirks against your neck.

“Yeah baby, thatta girl. Cum on Chris's cock. You can do it for me. Be as fucking loud as you want. No one can do anything about it. This building is mine and so is this pussy.” He grunts, his body trembling.

Although it's only the second time, you've noticed that he sets claim to you when he's close to cumming. When he really relaxes and lets go, he loses all of his composure.

“Y/n, don't hold back princess, I need to hear you. I wanted to hear you moan my name on that fucking Subway to let everyone around us know that it was me making you feel good.”

Instead you bite through the fabric of his shirt harder making him hiss and slam into your cunt harder than he has. The sensation makes you come crashing down shuddering and whimpering into his shirt as your cunt convulses around his cock. He keeps his thrusts going, pushing past your muscles that tighten. He's groaning loud, not caring about who walks past the break room door. Every curse, every praise can be heard by anyone within fifteen feet of the room.

“That's it. Fuck, oh yeah baby keep cumming for me, don't stop beautiful. Make a fucking mess on my cock.” He groans, slamming his cock into you and rotating his hips.

He could very well cum right now, fill your pussy just like he did last week but he's holding back because he wants you sore and spent when you go home. He wants your mind on nothing but his cock until he sees you again.

“Mm fucking hell. You like that don't you? Yeah I can tell you do. Your pussy tells me just what I need to know baby girl.”. He breathes, voice sounding strained.

He feels like he's going to go insane. The veins in his neck, arms and hands are prominent showing just how hard he's fucking you and how much he's straining himself. It's taking a lot for him to hold back and wait for you to cum again especially when you arch your back like that, eyes shut, mouth hanging open and whispering his name over and over. It's a beautiful fucking sight to him. He should've waited until he had you in his bed but soon as he saw you step off the elevator and walk into this room his feet were moving. He meant every word when he said that nothing could satisfy his hunger except for your cunt but now he's not even sure that'll do it. He still feels like a starving man even now that he's balls deep inside of you, ready to coat your walls white.

“Gonna cum, I can't- mm! I can't… I can't fucking hold it anymore y/n, shit!.”

You open your eyes and find his eyes on you, round and glassy like he's high. His face and ears are red and his bottom lip is pulled in-between his teeth grunting into you. You feel his cum filling you up and the pressure sends another orgasm ripping through your body. You're both shuddering and out of breath and equally both craving more.

“Shit that was fucking intense y/n.” He whispers, still feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock like butterfly wings.

The clock on the wall behind Chris reads 7:40pm and you should've been home an hour ago but right now, Chris is intent on helping you clean up. Brushing a soft clean handkerchief that he pulled from his pocket over your sensitive core sending jolts throughout your body and his sly smile says how much he's enjoying himself.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much Mr. Bang.” You tease watching his hands between your legs. He chuckles and looks up at you, stuffing the cloth back into his pocket along with your shredded thong when he's done and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I enjoy myself plenty around you y/n if you haven't noticed. I'm sure I'll enjoy myself even more. Meet me in the parking garage tomorrow after work?” He asks and you nod. “Sweet then I'll see you then.” With a wink he leaves you alone in the break room blinking and shaking your head with a small laugh.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

With a groan, your body sags against your front door soon as you step foot into your apartment. Kicking your heels off you watch as they clatter and go skidding across the hardwood floor. You're in need of a hot shower, it's been too long of an evening for you on top of work and Chris cornering you in the break room. Never in your wildest fantasies did you think you'd be doing something like this. All because you fucked your boss in a crowded subway car.

You shake your head at the memory of the moment he showed a glimpse of who he truly was that day. He knew you worked for him before he even made a move. That didn't stop him and as you walk further into your apartment you wonder if he'll regret anything in the long run. Lost in thought you're oblivious to the large shadowy figure standing inside the dark bathroom waiting for you to walk past.

Soon as you're past the open door the figure emerges and a hand goes around your mouth while the other traps both of your wrists, holding them behind your back. The screams you let out are muffled as you try to shake free but it's useless. Whoever has you is strong and they're not letting go. Your only option left is to fight. Fight to win just like your friend Minho taught you. As you raise your leg, intending to kick it back, a dark whisper against your ear stops you cold.

“I wouldn't do that y/n.” Says the voice, raspy and deep.

Your eyes go round at the sound of your name like that. It's full of such anger and venom. It turns your blood icy.

“Fucker! Let… Go.” You mumble loudly but it just sounds like, “Mm! Mmpf.. mmm.”

Your captor laughs darkly behind you and holds you tighter making you groan uncomfortably by their strength. “I'm loving these noises that you're making y/n. Is this all it took in order for me to hear you sound like this? Shit, baby.”

You roll your eyes and when you smile, the man lets your mouth free to speak, “Jisungie baby, I always sound like this for you.”

Your boyfriend Jisung chuckles and licks your neck right over the hickey that Chris gave you last week. The color has faded some but Jisung will just bite and suck the same area to make it come back.

“That's my lovely baby. You're going to be loud for me aren't you jagi?” He asks, still buried in the crook of your neck. “I need you baby. Need you so bad. Need to remind you whose pussy this is. God it's always so hot watching another guy enjoy what's mine.” You feel him smirk on your neck.

That damn smirk. You almost said fuck it that day in the subway train car when he looked at you like that. That smirk always makes you wet. It's so cocky, so confident, so… Jisung. This game the two of you have, has been going on for so long you never know when it starts and ends or if it actually ends for that matter. The plan is always the same, pick up a guy at the bar and bring him back home where Jisung sits in the shadows to watch you get your back blown out. Afterwards he fucks you even harder than the guy did all with the warm cum of another man still inside you. It's a win-win you think. You like being watched and Jisung loves to watch. But that night you ran into Chris was a pure accident. Since it was the middle of the week the bar was dead. Boredom muddled your mind and when you saw that your boyfriend was behind you, you had the brilliant idea of playing cat and mouse. You just didn't expect to get fucked in public let alone to be fucked by your boss.

“I'm relentless, am I now? hm? That's what you told him that day right lovely? Hm?” He hums against your neck before biting down over the mark making you gasp that soon transitions into moan trailing off into silence. He sucks down hard and when your body turns to liquid he's picking you up and taking you into the bedroom you share.

“Yes…” You hedge and he smirks again before kissing you rough.

“Mmm gonna show your pussy just how relentless I really am. Do you still feel his cum inside of you my love?” Jisung questions you sweetly. You told him about why you were late when you got into your car to drive home. He was mad he didn't get to watch but you knew he'd be waiting at home, hard and in need of your sore pussy. When you nod he bites his lips. “Fuck.”

He tosses you onto the bed and is on top of you before your body can stop bouncing. His hands roam all over your body like he hasn't memorized every inch of it over the past 4 years you've been together. Jisung undresses you, tossing your clothes into the open closet. When he sits up to take his shirt off you catch him off guard by biting his left pec. His legs shake and his arms fly around you.

“Again jagi.” He demands, twisting around and falling back onto the bed with you on top.

His chest is littered in bite marks and his erection is now too painful for him to handle. You take care of him, removing his baggy black acid wash jeans. Your aim isn't as good as his and when you toss them over your shoulder they hit the wall. You both laugh at your clumsiness and his eyes are so full of love. You love your boyfriend, never once has any man you've slept with threatened the bond you two have. Jisung has never been jealous even when you're arching your back and moaning while someone else fucks you senseless. Because he knows that this is where you always end up in his arms.

When you take his cock into your hands still smiling wide while lining him up with your entrance, he caresses your body and whispers, “I love you my baby.”

With a smile that grows as well as your arousal you sink down taking every inch of him and moan, “I love you too Jisung.”

You ride him until your legs wobble, two orgasms in and he still isn't ready to let you go. He wasn't kidding when he told you he'd show just how relentless he is. Flipping you over onto your back he fucks two more orgasms from you and only then does he cum. Claiming your body and heart as his. Neither of you plan on moving from where you are, too spent to lift your heads off the pillow. But after a quick nap your activities resume. Following into the shower, to the kitchen and back into the bedroom until late in the night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“I don't know Ji, should we really keep this going? He's my boss, this is different than some rando in a bar babe.” You sigh, holding your phone in your hand.

Today was your off day but Chris got your number from your file at work and texted you wondering if you were still down to meet up. You were having second thoughts about the whole game now. This could get really messy if it starts conflicting with work. Jisung walks over to where you stand in the kitchen and wraps you in his arms.

“What is it baby? Are you afraid I'll get upset? Why would I when I know that the only one that can fuck you right is me.” He gives you a cocky grin and kisses your forehead. When he looks at you again he's got a serious expression on his face. “If things get to be too much we'll stop, baby. I promise.”

You nod, still feeling a little indecisive but not wanting to worry Jisung. He needs all his focus on this song he's writing for a big client of his. Some guy named Seungmin, who's a pretty big deal you've been told. It's just nerves you tell yourself. You're just nervous since Jisung won't be around like he normally is. It's definitely not because you're worried about how Chris makes you feel.

“Come straight home after you leave his place baby. I'll miss you if you stay too long.” He pouts a little, making you smile.

“You know I hate being away from you for too long, Ji.” You tell him before leaving the apartment.

>

The whole drive to the parking garage of CBO your heart would not stop racing and your hands, sweaty on the steering wheel, began to shake when you pulled into the dim garage.

Get a hold of yourself y/n, shit. If Ji isn't worried then no reason I should be right?

Your little pep talk in the car is cut short when you see Chris walking out of the elevator looking hot in a plain black tee and black jeans. Your heart skips a beat and you force yourself to move. When he spots you stepping out of your car his reaction to you wearing a white tank top and denim jeans is just about the same as yours only he becomes instantly erect at the sight of you.

“Sup gorgeous?” He greets you, putting his hands in the front pocket of his jeans, giving you a cheeky lopsided grin.

You giggle and feel yourself relaxing at how casual he looks and talks to you. “Sup yourself Chris.”

“Come on let's get out of here before I fuck you in the backseat of my car. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself seeing you looking like that.”

He walks in the direction of his car and you mutter under your breath, “Feeling's mutual Bang.” Too quiet for him to hear.

Twenty minutes later you're underneath him, a whining begging mess, tied up to his bed and overstimulated beyond your limits just like he's dreamt about. He's brought you to the brink of cumming so many times you've lost count. You're not even sure how long you've been in this bed, you're only aware of the sounds that Chris conjures up from you and the satisfied moans of his that follow.

"Please Chris.” You whimper when he pulls his cock out for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Mm! Please let me cum. Please, please.” He looks down at you with bedroom eyes and trails a hand down the length of your body.

“Nah, don't wanna. Ceebs baby. Think I'll just leave you like this.” His smile spreads ear to ear when you widen your eyes and he starts laughing, throwing his head back. “I'm just kidding, beautiful but you should've seen your face.”

He comes plowing into your cunt with so much force that the headboard bumps the wall and you're screaming out his name. Chris smirks with each long quick stroke inside of you, getting just what he wanted. For you to lose control and let go. He needs to hear his name being spilled out from your soft lips that he can't stop kissing as if you were his girl. The way your body shivers when he grinds his pelvis hard over your clit makes him fuck you even harder with possessive primal moaning growls.

“Call me baby.” He demands out of nowhere gasping and kneading your breast in his hands as he looks down at you.

Without thinking you do it. It's impossible to not get swept up in the heat of the moment, to do any thinking of your own right now. So you call him baby. Over and over you say the name and watch as it has a physical reaction to him. Like a button that's been pressed Chris puts his all into fucking you.

“That's it baby girl. Sounds like heaven from your lips. Fuck, ah! Gonna cum y/n. Cum with me yeah? You're gonna cum with me. Yeah, yeah like that.” He sucks in air between his teeth slowly before gritting them. His jaw muscle flexes and you feel his cum spraying inside of you just as your own orgasm bursts through you.

It felt so good to Chris. To have you in his home, in his bed. It felt… right. Felt even better having all of you to himself. He only kept edging you simply because he didn't want the night to end so early. He knew you'd leave his side soon. When he finally drove you back to your car it was like torture to him. He couldn't pull away from you and ended up fucking you in the back seat of his car.

By the time you get home, poor Jisung doesn't know what hit him. You're on him as soon as you walk in the door. Sex drive still high, cunt still needy and the guilt of calling another man baby simmering inside you. Although Jisung doesn't complain, he feels this sudden odd feeling begin to gnaw at him. He's never felt this type of emotion. It's strange and foreign to him it's starting to piss him off but he bites the feeling down, pulling you closer to him suddenly afraid of letting you go.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The difference between Jisung and Chris is like being struck by lightning from both sides. No bolt is the same but you'll still burn from the inside out. With Jisung his moans when he fully lets himself go are whiny, desperate, needy just like your own and the random grunts and growls here and there when his orgasm builds always echo in your mind pushing you to reach your own peak. It's like diving off a cliff into the ocean, it swallows you up. Chris, he talks a lot more, praises you through gritted teeth with a low feral growl at the end of almost every sentence. He's the epitome of alpha male commanding your body to experience an earth shattering mind altering orgasm with a single word.

And night after night Chris commands your body. You return home to Jisung after spending a few long hours with Chris after work and you never get back home in one piece. Not without some new mark on you. Whether it's from his mouth or the pretty white ribbons he ties your wrists and ankles with, there's something. Ji always covers them up with his own markings with a growl and claim to you. “Mine. Naekkeo.” Jisung will moan, filling you up as many times as he can.

Tonight will be no different when you go home. You're currently tied up in Chris's bed with his tongue buried in your cunt as you cum with so much force you pull hard on your restraints not caring that they dig into your skin. You hear Chris laughing, feeling his breath breeze against you all while your legs are shaking on his shoulders.

“That's my girl. You're so delicious y/n. Shall I have another go? I'm still hungry.” He says, with amusement in his voice, raising his head and licking his lips.

“Chris please. I can't… that was the fifth orgasm you've given me with just your mouth. I'm too sensitive and far too out of breath. Let's call it a night please?” You beg in-between your panting breaths.

“Only because you said please and you look so cute like that. Why don't you stay the night babe hm?” Chris smiles down at you, freeing your hands from his headboard.

“I can't, I mean… remember I told you I don't feel comfortable.” You stutter rubbing your wrist looking down at the bright red line that goes all the way around.

“Right. My bad angel, no worries. I'm sure I'll wake up to your beautiful face soon.” He winks smiling like he's got some juicy secret that only he knows about. “Need a ride?”

Shaking your head you look up at him, “It's okay I drove.” You reply smiling sweetly and once you're dressed and not walking like a newborn fawn, he kisses you on the head and walks you out of large home.

When you get home you barely have it in you to take a shower. Every step you took, you could still feel Chris's mouth. His hot tongue, his beautiful lips sucking your clit. You're still too sensitive and it's a beautiful torture. As soon as you're out of the shower you fall into the bed with Jisung right behind you sliding up to you cock out and hard but you're too tired. You feel bad about leaving him to take care of himself.

“I'm sorry baby he spent two hours eating me out and I'm so tired.” You tell Jisung groggily and he pouts, taking your hands in his, kissing your wrists.

“That fucker.” He mutters under his breath angrily. He's upset but not with you. “It's okay though sweetie, you sleep.” He rubs his nose over yours and kisses your lips making you smile.

“I love you Sungie.” You mumble before drifting off to sleep peacefully.

Waking up is anything but peaceful though. Jisung is pissed and shuffling around the house pouting with his brows furrowed and a dark aura around him like some anime villain.

“Baby?” You say and there's silence. “Ji?” Still nothing. “My Han and only?” That does it and he cracks a smile while shoving instant ramen in his mouth, pointing his chopsticks to the plate of breakfast he made you. “What's the matter Hannie?”

He chews still pouting and you can't help but smile at him. His cheeks puff out when he gets like this but you know after breakfast he'll fuck you in the kitchen and he'll be okay.

“That fucker Bang.” He grumbles.

“I'm sorry about last night, baby.” You say taking a bite of watermelon.

“He's been keeping you later every time for the past two weeks and when you get home you're so sore that I wonder if I'm hurting you or we can't do anything at all. I haven't fucked you in two days. Don't go today, baby. Stay with me.” He confesses and you get up to sit on his knee.

“Of course I'll stay baby. You know if you don't want me to go that's all you have to say. I'll text Chris later and let him know.” Jisung nods and nuzzles your chest with his cheek like a cat.

“Sweetie… you don't like fucking him better than me do you?” Jisung asks, suddenly making your heart crack.

“Of course not baby. Why would you even think that?”

“I… uh. You were talking in your sleep last night and moaned his name.” He says.

Oh so that's why he's so mad… Now you're the one pouting.

“Never baby. I'm sorry for my brain. You know it has a mind of its own.” You say and he laughs hugging you tight. “You're going to make me do more than moan your name aren't you Sungie?”

“Mmm lovely you know I am.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Breakfast long forgotten Jisung has you bent over the table staring into your reflection of the closet door across from you. Its surface is a mirror from ceiling to floor and you can see the pure desire on his face from behind you.

“Fuck.” He whispers, rubbing your ass in a circle after smacking hard and chuckles when you give it a shake. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” He tells you low and tender.

He slides his cock into you with a groan, throwing his head back before looking at your reflection. He loves seeing your cheeks turn pink from pleasure, loves how your lips poke out making him wish there was two of him so you can wrap your lips around his cock while he fucks you like this. He starts moving and you grip the side of the table hard with a gasp. You're sore still but you both love it when your swollen like this. You have a feeling this'll be a quickie but your boyfriend will worship and cherish your body all day long, making up for the two days he didn't have you.

“Gotta fuck his cum outta my sweet lovely baby.” Jisung says picking up speed. He groans along with you when you push back into him meeting his thrust.

“Jisung!” You gasp and he chuckles behind you.

“See how you look baby? You see why I can't ever get enough of you huh? I really needed this. Needed you, y/n baby” Jisung slaps your ass and then rubs his hand over the redness.

He repeats the move again each time he rams his cock into you. Over again until you're falling flat onto the table and letting out a long groaning moan and cumming around him.

“Yes.” He whispers, extending the word before he loses his ability to say anything more.

He's fucking you just as hard as Chris does all while moaning uncontrollably, breathing heavily and digging his fingers into ass as he grips it tight. God you love the sounds he makes. He's always been the noisiest man you've ever slept with, never shying away or holding back and you found that to be the sexiest thing ever. What started as a one night stand between you and Jisung years ago became what you have today. Four amazing years.

“Oh? My baby's gonna cum again. Hm? Hm baby? Oh God. Fuck y/n. Yeah rub your clit just like that. Gonna fill you now baby.” Jisung grunts, pulling you back into him as he thrusts forward three final times, feeling you reach another climax before throwing his head back, freezing and spilling his cum inside you.

That's how your day goes with Jisung. Spoiling you not just with sex but love. Deep inside you know it's because he feels like he has to do better than Chris, be better than your CEO boss but he doesn't need to do any of that. Can't tell him that though. Once he sets his mind to something, he sees through it till the end.

With Jisung on the phone with his client Seungmin, going over the song he wrote for him, you decide to message Chris and let him know you won't be able to come over tonight before doing some light chores. Ding! Your phone notification goes off from the coffee table while you wash dishes in the kitchen.

“Ji baby, could you check that for me please? It's probably Chris. I let him know I wouldn't be coming tonight.” You call over your shoulder. It's nothing new, you two always check each other's phone whenever the other has their hands full. However this is the first time a message has actually angered someone in the relationship.

Jisung scoffs staring down at your phone, feeling the rage and jealousy build up inside of him. He's seeing red at the short text message in front of him. The room is quiet and you're unaware of all the sudden anger that's seeping out of Jisung but inside of him is so loud.

“No worries, my baby. If you need me you know who to call.” He spits out in a mocking tone making you turn around in shock.

You've never heard him like this. You watch Jisung pace the floor grabbing his hair in his hands and you quickly go to him. Placing a damp hand on his shoulder carefully, he looks at you and you finally see it. Past the anger in his eyes there's uncertainty. He really is worried about losing you. Worried that your boss is trying to take you away from him and it's been eating him up inside silently but for how long? Why couldn't you see it before? Why didn't he just tell you that was how he was feeling? Communication, that's what you two always lived by.

“Sungie baby…” You whisper.

“Who does he think he is huh? Your boyfriend? No. I am. You're not his. You're mine.” He kisses you roughly before you can speak.

You moan against his mouth when he slips his hand over and under the band of your leggings and finds that you're not wearing any panties like you normally do at home. He growls and bites your bottom lip before plunging two fingers inside.

“This pussy is mine, it won't ever belong to another. Isn't that right sweetie?” He asks, breathing heavily like he's just ran a marathon.

“Yes baby, all yours. Only yours.” You breathe, legs shaking as he fingers you and kisses you hard again.

That night Jisung fucked you harder than ever. It was like he was a possessed man, it wasn't him but you'd never admit that you loved it.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Though he was still feeling a little jealous, Jisung still encouraged you to go to Chris's but this time he'd go with you and wait in the car. That's why you're tied up and blindfolded in Chris's room on your knees in front of him. You can hear his feet shuffling around but you just assume he's cleaning up after he filled your throat with every inch of him, fucking your throat until he came. He's been pretty easy on you tonight. You're not sore and the ribbons don't pinch so much.

“So babe, did you miss me?” He asks, coming to stand in front of you.

“I did.” You answer honestly.

“Yeah baby?” He purrs and you feel him get down to your level. “Did your boyfriend fuck you good the other night?”

Your mouth pops open comedically and Chris laughs kissing you on your head. A thousand thoughts flood your mind, jumbled and frantic.

“Yeah, I know about Jisung beautiful. When I ran a background check on ya he popped up. I've known ever since that day after we met. He's a great songwriter at the company. Pops was right to hire him.” He confesses and you're too stunned to speak but he's not quite done.

“What surprised me though was that the so-called creep following you that day was your boyfriend. It's a fun game you two play, so I'll go along with it for however long you want.” He stands up, lovingly caressing your head. “Because I know that despite you going home to someone else, it's my cock that you're thinking of and lusting for.”

He fucks your mouth again but denys you when you ask if he's going to fuck you now. Instead he unties you and reminds you that your boyfriend is waiting for you in the car. You're fuming when you get into the car. Jisung doesn't quite know how to handle the situation at the moment, not while he's driving. It's not until you're home that he takes care of you once you're both home in bed. Laying in bed post climax, Jisung has the most ridiculous idea that's ever come out of his mouth and he's said some crazy things before.

“How about a friendly competition between men? Chris and I take you together and see who's the better man. You know, just for fun.” He smirks to himself laying on his arm and looking up at the ceiling. “If he can't handle it, then game over Christopher.” He says and laughs at himself before rolling over and burying his face in your tits.

“Uh, yeah... I don't know if he'll be down for that Hannie but if that's what you what I'll relay the message.” You reply and thread your fingers through his hair. "Just remember he's responsible for our paychecks."

You're certain Jisung is just joking or if he isn't he'll change his mind. Right? There's no way he'd go through with that idea but isn't that how this game you two have going on started? One crazy idea from the genius mind of Han Jisung. Could you handle it though? Having both men inside of you? The thought made you nervous and excited and honestly you were kind of hoping that Chris would agree. And to your surprise, he does. Now you're in a coffee shop talking about a threesome. How did your life get to this?

>

“You're a crazy man Han Jisung.” Chris says, leaning back in his chair. He's looking every bit of the CEO that he is in the small cafe that he agreed to meet you and Jisung at. There's an amused smile on his face as he takes a sip of his freshly pressed juice. “But you're on. Obviously this is just for shits and giggles. In the end whatever y/n wants goes.” He continues and smiles at you flashing his dimples.

“Of course what my baby wants goes. Anything to make my girlfriend happy.” Jisung responds, placing his arm over your shoulders possessively pulling you closer to him.

You sit in silence looking between both men amused and intrigued. The conversation shifts into one of more intimate topics: You. Specifically your body and who would be where inside of you. Your whole face and chest flush pink at how casual they talk. They actually seem to be getting along well when they comment on what you like and don't like. Both men know your body so well. Probably even better than you know yourself.

“So it's settled then. My place the day after tomorrow? Let's say… around 8.” Chris says looking pleased with himself. “I don't plan on losing so it may be a long night. I figure 8 will give you time to rest before princess.” He looks at you and winks before getting up from his seat to leave. “See you two then.”

When Chris is gone you turn to Jisung, doubt in your chest. You need to make sure he really wants this. This will get messy quickly if more jealousy seeps it's way back into the mix. You don't want to lose Jisung so you double and triple check with him on if this is really what he wants to do.

“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” You question taking in your boyfriend's features as the sun from the large storefront window makes him glow radiantly. The brown in his eyes pop, looking like the cup of coffee in your hands.

“Lovely, I could ask you the same. Please don't do this if you don't want to. I know you love me naekkeo.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “Don't feel like you have to do this for either me or Chris, okay?”

You smile and nod feeling your heart bloom in your chest. You hit the jackpot with Jisung. Have you gotten wealthier with Chris too?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The room is silent and a gentle breeze from Chris's open window stirs your hair around your shoulders. You didn't think you'd feel so nervous but you're shaking with anticipation as you're kneeling on Chris's large bed naked for both him and Jisung. Biting your lip, you sit up on your knees straddling Chris and wait as Jisung comes up behind you. Taking your hips he lubes your ass and his cock up, making things slippery so it's easier for him to enter you. Slowly he guides himself into you from behind all while kissing his way down the side of your neck, pausing to bite down gently on your shoulder. You're moaning and crying with pleasure once your boyfriend is fully inside of you. All the while Chris lays underneath you. Watching you and stroking his cock, caressing your left thigh with his fingers.

“You ready baby?” Jisung whispers behind you in your ear.

Your body reacts, shuddering around him and his groans are felt against your chest. You feel his cock pulsating inside of you and you feel desperate for movement. Nodding your head Jisung guides you down onto Chris who lines himself up with your entrance nice and slow. Excruciatingly slow. Just the tip of Chris's cock is inside of you and you're whining at the pinch and stretching sensation. Brief doubt that you can take them both bubbles up in your mind but you push it aside and keep pushing down taking the length of him in carefully.

When Chris pushes up helping you take the last remaining inches, your back arches and you cry out. Not from pain although you can feel that sting of being fully stretched but from pleasure once both men are fully sheathed inside of you. It's a strange blissful feeling, their cocks pressed tightly together with only the thin wall of your flesh between them. With Jisung taking your breasts in his hands, Chris sits up and guides the movements like the leader he is. It's just a natural thing and the three of you seem to fall into that unconsciously. Thrusting and moving your hips along with his guiding hands until a synchronized rhythm starts. It's slow at first, far too slow for you and it becomes hard for you to relax your muscles around each man.

“Fuck me.” You grind out, sweating and already breathless.

There's a shared moan between Jisung and Chris that vibrates through you and echoes in the quiet room. You don't give them a chance to respond, you're moving for them, taking over the pace. Fuck does it amazing, that fullness. Your orgasm is quick and you're groaning and writhing with pleasure cumming hard.

Your head falls back, landing on Jisung's shoulder while he still keeps his push and pull in and out of your ass all while you cum around Chris's cock. His thrusts force your body to continuously rock against him, heightening the sensation and pleasure all together. Chris grunts and fights back to urge to cum with you, determined not to lose against Jisung. Both men, stubborn as hell would gladly fuck you all night long trying to last longer than the other but you're not sure how much longer you can keep up. Your legs would've given out long ago if you weren't held up by Jisung's arms as he cradles you, pumping his cock into you.

“Fuck, I can feel everything baby. God keep cumming. More baby.” Jisung groans in your ear, coaxing you.

Your whimpers make both Chris and Jisung feel absolutely insane. Chris in particular is struggling watching your face. How your features contort beautifully with each synchronized thrust, it's like seeing the stars for the first time to him. He feels his balls tighten and he knows that he'll lose as soon as you cum around him again. You're already babbling incoherently but it becomes even more crazed and hard to understand when Chris places a firm thumb over your clit. Your whole body tenses up and both men curse and grunt in harmony and it's such a beautiful sound.

“Mm y/n. Shit, shit that's a good girl. You're close baby girl. That's right cum on my cock again.” Chris whispers and bucks his hips up off the bed causing both his and Jisung's cock to ram up harshly inside you.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry loudly holding onto Jisung's arms and clawing at him. Legs shaking, eyes rolling in the back of your head and with a strange tortured groan your second orgasm erupts from within you.

It's too much for them, you feel so much tighter than before and their own orgasm happens with no warning. Both your cunt and ass are being filled at the same time and the feeling is phenomenal.

“Ah! fuck naekkeo… F-fuck me!” Jisung groans and the sound shortly turns into a long winded whine.

“Oh shit y/n fuck. So beautiful, so fuuucking beautiful.” Chris breathes and growls, thrusting upwards more. “Yeah that's- mm! That's it baby.”

Fuck a bet you need to experience this everyday. Is this what addiction feels like? They're still inside of you, cocks softening while slowly dribbling the last drops of cum into your sore and stretched holes but you want them to fill you up even more. As completely fucked out of your mind you are, you still don't want to move from where you are. Two pairs of hands caress your body, relaxing you after the intense full body orgasm you just had. You feel so loved and taken care of. It's an overwhelming feeling and a tear falls from your eye and down the side of your face onto Jisung's shoulders.

“Sweetie? What's wrong, does it hurt? Here I'll pull out first slowly.” Jisung says worried voice tender and full of concern.

Once he's out and moving to stand beside the bed he picks you up, pulling you off of Chris's lap and gently lays you down beside the man who's looking at you wide eyed and terrified that he might've hurt you.

“Y/n babe, where does it hurt? Tell us beautiful. Please?” Chris pleads when you start fully crying.

Shaking your head and covering your face you take a deep breath trying to calm down. “I'm sorry boys, I'm okay. I'm not hurt, I'm just… fuck. That was just amazing. I felt so overwhelmed and I don't want this,” you wave your arms around gesturing to the three of you. “To end because the bet is over. I also feel like shit for wanting that but…” you trail off looking up at the ceiling laying on top of black silk sheets.

The room is silent and when you close your eyes you feel Jisung slide into bed on your other side. For a minute, the three of you just lay there listening to the cars drive past outside through the open window. You don't open your eyes until you hear laughter on either side of you.

“What's so funny?!” You say turning your head back and forth to look at Chris and Jisung.

“Oh my gosh she's so cute. You're a lucky man Jisung.” Chris says, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Thanks bro. That she is.” Your boyfriend says and you sit up suddenly wincing at the soreness.

“Okay not that I'm complaining but where the hell did this sudden bromance come from?” You question, which only makes them laugh even more. Crossing your arms you pout and wait for their laughing to subside.

“My baby, my angel, my lovely... We're two men who only want to make you happy and cherish you from head to toe,” Jisung kisses your shoulder when he sits up. “How could all that not have been a bonding moment between all of us? I'm down to do whatever makes my baby happy.

“Yeah, no worries gorgeous. I mean granted we… ya know, work out a better routine or something, this arrangement can work out I think.” Chris agrees and takes your hand in his playing with your fingers.

You're touched that they care so much about you to even agree with what you want let alone agree so quickly. Could this three person situation actually work though? Or have you just made things a whole lot messier for yourself?

••••••••••••••••One Month Later•••••••••••••••

“Babe! Could you tell Ji his client wants to run a few ideas for the song when you get back to CBO please? I've got to go to a meeting in a bit.” You hear Chris call out to you from the shower.

Walking into the steamy room you see his body fully submerged under the spray of the water. You try to scare him but he's fully aware of your presence outside of the glass and he opens one eye in your direction smiling at you.

“Can you also tell him that I can't keep wiping the cameras so you two can fuck in the stairwells. Poor security guard had a front row show last week. I'm still jealous.”

Giggling you lean towards him past the open glass for a kiss that he returns with a groan. “Fuck y/n you know what your laugh and those lips do to me. Keep it up and we won't get any work done and Jisung will be pouty all day.”

“My bad babe, you just look so good wet.” You giggle again and now he's pulling you into the shower with him fully clothed.

You squeal when the warm water soaks the flowy white summer skater dress you had just put on and Chris's mouth is on your neck lapping up the water and nibbling your flesh. His hands are quick lifting the dress up and over your head letting it fall to the tiles in a loud splat just outside the door. His cock is inside of you before your hair is even fully saturated with water. The loud wet sounds and your moans echo throughout the bathroom as Chris holds one of your legs up and fucks you up against the shower wall. Your hands slip and slide over his bare back feeling every muscle shift with his movements.

You let out a loud moan when you hear the door creak open to a heavy lidded Jisung in a black blazer, white tee and jeans, standing there looking into your eyes and watching his girlfriend get fucked by another man. He slowly grins and saunters into the room, eyes still on you until he reaches the counter. There, he continues to watch you, watch Chris's cock quickly slip in and out of your cunt. His grin grows when you struggle to keep your eyes on him and the flush to your cheeks deepen. When you reach your hand out to him he shakes his head and chuckles deep.

“Take his dick like a good girl, lovely. I'm a patient man. I'll fuck you after until your body is dry and your pussy is dripping on my cock.” Jisung says and you feel Chris laugh while he sucks down hard on your breast.

Jisung rubs his hard cock over his pants and your cunt locks down around Chris's length making you both breathe out a soft moan.

“Fuck Sungie.” You whine with a pout, reaching out to him again but he won't be swayed that easy. He's used to waiting his turn while watching you.

“No, no naekkeo I'm not here remember.” He says sitting up on the counter next to the sink, getting comfortable.

Chris begins to thrust into you harder, taking your other leg and wrapping it around his hips. “Mmm, you heard the man baby. Take my cock so he can fuck my cum out of you when I'm gone.”

Chris's words make you shiver all over and you lean your head back onto the wall behind you giving in to the sensations Chris's cock and Jisung's eyes give you. Some days they take turns, some days they share you together but in the end both men would have worshiped your body inside and out. It's been a month now having this strange relationship with your two boyfriends and your heart isn't the only thing that feels full everyday. Sometimes messy isn't always a bad thing.

@resi4skz, @msauthor @thesarcasmqueen-22 @skzworldx @turtledove824 @jisungsbammey @brojustfknkillm3 @rixenluv @cookiesnmilfx @tirena1 @redlikemysoul

[profoundbondfanfic]

hello! I love this blog so much - as a new spn fan (and tumblr user) it’s a great source for good fics to read, so thank you so much for this blog!

If you do take (possibly) more specific requests for recommendations, I was wondering if you knew of any fanfics where it’s cas-centric and involves him realizing/coming to terms with his feelings for dean? I’ve read a lot of (esp post-canon) fics where it follows dean’s journey with this, but not as much with cas, especially within the context of canon. Thank you, and best wishes for this blog!!

Hey! First of all, thanks so much for the kind words, we're glad you're enjoying our blog.

Here are a few fics that fit this. We included both AUs and Canon from Cas' POV with him realizing/coming to terms with his feelings for Dean.

Canon:

Better Off by caelum_writes (Teen and Up, 7k words)

As an angel Castiel never had to think about what to wear. As a man who struggles with deep self-loathing, Dean never had to think about the idea of anyone loving him.

between sex and death and trying to keep the kitchen clean by ftmsteverogers (Explicit, 13k words)

"I don't get you," Dean spits. "I don't get what you want. Just — just tell me. I'm a big boy, I can take it." "I did tell you!" Castiel exclaims. "I told you, and then I died!"

Dean Winchester and the Belly Button Piercing by Trenchcoat_Paradigm (Explicit, 34k words)

Dean Winchester was 23 when he got his belly button pierced. It was during a time in his life when everything felt like it was in turmoil (long before he even really knew what his life being in turmoil truly meant). He never intended to go out and get any piercings—his father would have never allowed it. For 20-something years it had been his best-kept secret… that was until one fateful night when a hunt went wrong and his best friend had to swoop in and help patch him up, catching an eyeful of his elusive secret. Castiel’s infatuation with his best friend took a dangerous turn that night (not that he wasn’t already treading treacherous waters with his feelings towards the man). He had already known that Dean had a piercing, but he had no idea it was still functional, and equally had no idea that a piece of jewellery, Dean’s own slice of quiet rebellion, would have such a profound effect on him. Now Castiel can’t help but want him and his fading grace is doing very little in hiding his… indiscretions. The idea of it slowly drove him insane. And what makes it worse… Castiel was certain Dean was doing it on purpose.

restless by vipjuly (Explicit, 4k words)

Kissing Dean feels not only right, it feels important, like them kissing is another one of the events Chuck intended to come to fruition when he first created the earth and all its people.

sunflower by unicornpoe (Teen and Up, 4k words)

Castiel comes home on a Sunday.

The Black Trench Coat by Yool_chan (Explicit, 22k words)

When Dean found out Castiel was working with Crowley to open Purgatory, he had no choice but to leave the angel in the ring of fire with nothing less than a broken heart. But instead of plotting against his friend, Dean takes a literal sense of fire vs fire. He decides to kill Castiel with love. Or that story where Dean convinces Castiel to look into their future to see if Castiel's plan against Raphael succeeds, only to find the world in chaos and an angel donning a black trenchcoat emerges to take Dean away.

The Law of Equivalent Exchange by awed_frog (Mature, 60k words)

“And what’s the point of it?” “Of love? There isn’t one. Loving is its own purpose.”

until the end and after by Philyra912 (Explicit, 27k words)

A year ago, the world didn't end. Now it's summer and the cicadas are buzzing, and something is changing. Something is going to give.

AU:

Dean Winchester, Straight Shooter by triedunture (Explicit, 15k words)

Dean Winchester, star of StraightShooter.com, is a gay-for-pay porn star with a huge following. Cas Novak signs on to do a scene with him, even though he dislikes "straight" porn stars on principle. But Dean is more complicated than he first appears, and after inadvertently learning his secrets, Cas finds himself falling for him.

For Evermore by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 110k words)

There's no place like home. This was a line Castiel used to know by heart when he was a kid, watching The Wizard of Oz and believing fairytales were real. At thirty-one years old, he isn't a kid anymore, and it has been twelve years since he has known what home feels like. Twelve years. That's when his world had come crashing down and he had left his hometown, Holly Springs, with the broken pieces of what he once was to build a new life in San Francisco. But as circumstances force him to come back to the only place he swore he would never return to, Castiel is finally forced to face everything he once knew and loved. Especially when said everything is made of spring-green eyes and a stardust of freckles, wrapped in all the memories Castiel was not able to erase from his heart. After twelve years, Dean is as mesmerizing as Castiel remembers, but the scars of what was broken still run as deeply as the marrow of his bones, and Castiel will do everything he can to protect himself. After all, his favorite movie also taught him that 'until hearts can be made unbreakable,' he can’t listen to his own.

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster (Explicit, 94k words)

Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?

Satin and Sawdust by Ltleflrt (Explicit, 159k words)

When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head. Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend. But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

Smoke In the Mirror by letters_of_stars (Mature, 52k words)

It begins with the flier hung in the library: art model needed for thesis project, will pay. Castiel figures it's an easy way to make some extra money, but modeling for Dean Winchester ends up complicating his life far beyond anything he could have imagined.

The Prodigal Bond by vipjuly (Explicit, 68k words)

In exchange for conjugal visits, Dean Winchester gives FBI Supervisory Special Agent Castiel Novak all the dirt he needs to bring down national crime rings. It's a tit-for-tat situation; primal, animalistic, and probably ten kinds of illegal. When a case is revealed to be closer to Castiel than what he considers safe, he and Dean must work together to make sure that Crowley goes down for good. Will Castiel be able to keep Dean at arm's length, or will the charming convict finally get what he's been asking for all along? What lengths will Castiel go to... at Dean's behest?