#I swear to god I was on the edge throughout this scene

[dv-kelp-face]

Boy was the River Styx getting heavy traffic that day

[hedwig221b]

[narrator's voice] Derek is not human, despite what Stiles thinks. Derek also knows something that Stiles doesn't - that Stiles is pregnant

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Cold blood slithered down his forearms to his elbows and dripped on the floor. His hands were slick with it, oily with all the fat that saturated the flesh.

His sharpened teeth dug into the meat and tore chunks of it out. He swallowed it almost without chewing, so hungry he was. The sounds felt too loud in the silence of the night, the whirring of the fridge the only accompaniment to his long-awaited feast.

It didn’t matter that he was used to the hot flesh. No, this was good, too, even with the faint notes of grass throughout—

“Stiles?”

Stiles froze.

Suddenly, he saw everything — the opened fridge, the dim light from inside; he felt the cold kitchen tiles under his bare feet, the chill that stuck to his skin. Something cold and soft and slick in his hands.

Stiles let it go.

The half-eaten steak smacked onto the floor right between his feet.

No. No, no, no.

Stiles didn’t want to turn, deathly afraid of what might happen after. He just stood there, staring at the meat, waiting for Derek to shout, to yell, to call him insane and kick him out—

Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body away from the fridge. Familiar hands cupped his undoubtedly pale and bloody face and turned up.

Derek’s wide eyes were full to the brim with concern.

He will leave, he will leave, he will leave.

“Baby, listen to me, it’s okay.”

Stiles opened his mouth to talk, but the taste chose this exact moment to remind him about what he had just done. Everything tasted like meat, like blood.

Whatever expression he had on his face made Derek frown even harder. The man shook him a little.

“Focus on me, Stiles. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m here. It was probably a dream, that’s all.”

That was no dream.

Stiles didn’t remember waking up or walking to the kitchen. If Derek didn’t snap him out of it, he could’ve… could’ve…

“Come here, sweetheart.” Gently, oh so gently, Derek took his wrists and led him to the sink. He washed Stiles’ hands himself, holding them as if they were more fragile and thinner than crystal.

Stiles watched his hands move and barely had any feeling in his own. He was only vaguely aware of the wall of heat that was Derek’s body in front of him, of his muscles flexing under his movements, of the edge of his clenched jaw.

What had he done?

“That’s it,” said Derek, turning off the water. He dried his hands, then led him to the bar stool, helping him up. “Come on, arms up.”

Stiles lifted his arms as if in a trance. He didn’t understand why Derek asked him that at first, but then felt the cold seep into his skin as the man took off his shirt.

Oh. Right. It was probably covered in blood, too.

Derek’s shadow disappeared then returned a couple of seconds later. Something warm and wet touched his face — his own t-shirt, Stiles realized. Derek was cleaning his face. From chunks of meat, fat, and blood.

Stiles lifted his eyes.

Derek met his gaze for a fraction of a second, then returned to cleaning.

“Derek.”

“Shh.”

Stiles shut up. His eyes stung, and his whole body was breaking out in shivers.

Derek noticed, of course, always weirdly attuned to Stiles’ body. Putting the t-shirt aside, he hopped over into the living room and came back with a blanket in his hands, which he then promptly put around Stiles.

God, he probably thought Stiles was such a fucking freak. Derek was probably in shock himself.

“On a scale of one to ten,” said Stiles in a shaking voice, “how much do you want me to leave and never come back?”

He was probably going to be told to pack his things in three, two—

Stiles didn’t expect Derek to step between his spread legs and sweep him into a tight hug.

Fuck, he didn’t need to add tears to the horror scene, not now.

“Never joke about it,” said Derek into his ear, grabbing his waist harder. “Never.”

“But—”

“I swear to god, if I have to lock you inside, I would.”

Stiles wanted to curl into himself from the heaviness of his voice. He dug his fingers into Derek’s shoulders and sagged against him with his chin against the man’s shoulder.

“So we’re going to, like, pretend nothing happened? Is that what you mean?” he asked.

“No. No, of course, not. Look at yourself, you’re trembling like a leaf.” Derek rubbed his back as if it would help. As if anything would help. “I told you, it’s okay. You’ve just had a very intense dream and sleepwalked.”

Oh, Derek. Stiles was honestly flattered and a little bit horrified by the lengths Derek was willing to go to delude himself into thinking Stiles was normal.

Fuck, Derek was such a naive human. Stiles couldn’t let him think that. It was simply dangerous.

“Derek, sleepwalking or not, you cannot tell me it wasn’t freaky.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“And it’s my fault anyway.”

“How the fuck was that—”

“How are you feeling?” Not listening to a word he said, Derek put his palm against Stiles’ stomach, rubbing the skin with his thumb. “Nausea? Pain?”

“N-no?”

“Do you still want to eat?”

Now Stiles really looked at him. What was he supposed to say? Wasn’t that kind of a strange question? Stiles was, like, fifty percent sure that when humans got food poisoning they were put on a diet of chicken broth and crackers. Did Derek think he had just got poisoned?

What was he supposed to say?

“Uhh,” Stiles blinked at him. Well, maybe if he went for the truth… Derek was human after all, he had to know what to do. “Kind of?”

“Okay, that is fine.” Derek nodded at him as if talking to an idiot. “Sit here, baby, okay? Just relax. I’m going to cook something for you.”

After pressing a light apologetic kiss on Stiles’ forehead, Derek left him sitting alone. Stiles watched in confusion (mixed with something shaking, warm, and aching) as he marched to the fridge, took something out, then plopped the pan right on the stove.

He always loved watching Derek cook. He did it with a strange grace, his movements quick but precise. The muscles on his back and shoulders played delicately in the low warm light; his grey pants rode low on his hips. Derek was cooking for him.

For him.

Stiles crossed his arms on the table and laid his forehead on his hands.

Breathing, listening. Trying not to fall apart completely.

He didn’t deserve this man. Never did and never will.

Something hissed and sizzled. Fat or oil bubbled on the hot surface, sputtering droplets everywhere. Soon, the kitchen filled with a delicious smell of…

Grilled meat?

Stiles looked up.

Derek stood by the stove, leaning with one hand on the counter, and holding the steak with tongs in another. He remained silent as he cooked, turning the meat and pressing it on all sides. Shoved it in the oven, then stared with a blank faraway gaze at the stove as it cooked. Took it out after a few minutes, back into the pan, basting it with butter, garlic, and some herbs.

Not a single word, until…

“Here.”

…a plate with a perfectly grilled juicy rare steak was put in front of him.

Stiles stared at the bronzed buttered surface of the meat, then swallowed the spit that instantly filled his mouth.

He licked his lips, cleared his throat, then turned a hesitant gaze up at Derek, who was watching him like a hawk.

“I can eat it?”

Derek’s eyes drilled into his.

“I cooked it for you.”

Stiles wiggled in his seat. “Yeah, no, I meant…” he had to keep his act as a human so Derek would have to bear stupid questions. “Can I eat it so soon after?..”

Derek was… yep, still staring. “Kitten,” he started with a strange smile on his lips that didn’t match his wild gaze, “you bet your pretty ass you can eat anything I put in front of you. I’ll always give you the best. That steak you ate? “Premium” doesn’t begin to cover it. I’m also quite sure that your stomach can handle it. You’re human, yes, but you’re still a predator.”

Stiles’ whole body went still as a statue.

Does he kn—

No. No, stupid, how would he fucking know? If Derek knew what kind of predator Stiles really was, he would run away instead of trying to soothe him with a treat.

“I know what you need, Stiles,” Derek added, a touch softer than before. “Eat.”

Derek had no idea what Stiles needed. However, this time, he guessed right.

Stiles licked his lips discreetly, pushed the plate towards himself, and began eating.

He ate the whole thing under Derek’s heavy stare. When Stiles offered him the bite, he only stretched his lips in this secretive smile of his, this time full of… pride? Satisfaction? Pleasure? Whatever it was, Derek refused.

If only Stiles allowed himself to dream, it would be of this. Of Derek accepting him for who he was. A predator.

Yet, usually, the human-eating predators didn’t have the same respect as others. And no matter how much it was romanticized, Stiles did not want to die from his lover’s hand.

[odigaon]

three’s a crowd

summary: your boyfriend talks you into a threesome with his bestfriend

pairings: junhan x reader x gaon

warnings/tags: threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face slapping, dumbification, squirting, spitting, praise, dom! junhan, switch! gaon, sub! reader

word count: 2.4k

unedited!

“Y/N I swear to god if you don’t pick a movie already I’m coming over there and sitting on you.” Dee snarkily remarks as her best friend continues to flip through movie after movie across various apps.

“Nice try. You’re not Junhan.” Y/N smartly replies back.

Neither one of them could decide which movie they should watch: tired of the usuals and wanting to be able to settle in with their respective boyfriends was leaving the both of them antsy and on edge. The movie was simply going to be a distraction for them: watching their boyfriends spend an entire day doing domestic things with them had left the both of them feeling rather frustrated. Unfortunately, neither of them was going to have any quality time with their boyfriends until later seeing as how the rest of the members were also going to be or were already present in the house.

“Okay smart one,” you say, “you pick a movie then.”

“The Conjuring 2.”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon pleaseeee? Next time we cuddle I’ll scratch your back?”

“You already do that anyways, so how does that benefit me at all?”

“Please dude? Don’t you wanna be able to cuddle up to Junhan throughout it?”

You pull your glasses down until they’re resting on the tip of your nose, “Well. When you put it like that.”

Seungmin finds his way into the living room and sits next to Dee, “Oh no,” you think, “This is not going to go over well with Gunil.”

“Seungminnie! What’s up?” Dee excitedly questions.

“Nothing. Just came to see if you guys picked a movie yet.” he says while ever so sneakily throwing his arm loosely around her shoulders. Being the cuddle bug she is, she naturally leans into him.

“Gunil is REALLY not going to like that.” you think to yourself once again.

Dee and Seungmin start to babble in conversation while you let your mind drift elsewhere. Towards Junhan. Towards his beautiful face. His elegant hands where one of his fingers is encapsulated in his favorite armor ring. His precious bunny smi-

“What are you thinking about, Jagi?” Junhan startles you out of your daydream with his simple soft spoken question and you smile up at him.

“Something really important,” you answer with a soft smile on your face.

Meanwhile Gunil finally arrives at your house with Gaon hot on his heels. Both of them seem to be holding bags or items from Guitar Center. Of course they decided to go there in their off time. Why didn’t they bring you?

The talking and laughing suddenly ceases as Gunil and Gaon take in the scene in front of them. Seungmin’s arm tightly wrapped around Dee’s shoulders on the couch and you and Junhan cuddled up to one another on the opposite side.

“Goobear! You’re finally here!” Dee exclaims.

Gunil strides over to the couch and stands in front of Dee.

“You and I need to talk.”

The tone of his voice makes your blood run cold and evidently Dee’s too judging by the look on her face.

“About what?”

“I’d rather not address it out here. Y/N is there somewhere her and I can talk?”

Just before you go to answer, Seungmin stands up and gets eye level with Gunil. Is he puffing out his chest?

“Is there a problem?” Seungmin asks semi-threateningly

“Yeah. And it doesn’t concern you, Seungmin-ah. Sit down. Dee. Please?” Gunil’s says while holding out his hand for Dee to take.

“You can talk in my parents’ room.”

Dee stands to leave with Gunil, but not before shooting you a wink and an eyebrow wiggle.

“NOT ON MY PARENTS’ BED!”

“SHUT UP! WE’RE NOT DOING IT ON THE BED.” Dee yells back before the door to your parents' room shuts with finality.

“I’m gonna have to burn the carpet aren’t I?” You say aloud.

Junhan just giggles at the antics of his leader’s and his own girlfriend and after a little while Seungmin clears his throat and declares that he’s going to leave with the rest of the guys to get back to their respective hotel rooms after hearing the words “You think Seungmin can fuck you like this?” leave Gunil’s lips; Leaving you with only Gaon and Junhan as company.

The sounds emanating from your parents’ room leads you to turn up the volume on the TV before you hear anything you rather wouldn’t.

Sandwiched in between the two guitarists, your pulse starts to quicken and your heart is thrumming against your chest. Why the hell is Gaon so close to you? At this point, your upper body is laying on Junhan while your lower half is nearly thrown over Gaon’s lap.

“My love? Can we talk to you?”

“We?”

With that, Gaon throws his arm around your shoulders, “Yeah beautiful. We need to talk,”

Junhan’s hand that has been around your waist now begins to rub at your side.

“I know you like Gaon,”

“Wha-what? What do you mean?”

“My love, don’t play dumb. I’ve seen the way you look at him. Especially while he’s practicing. Don’t worry I’m not mad. I just want to use this as an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?”

“Gaon likes you too.”

That makes your heart nearly stop. Gaon…likes you…?

“Yeah he does. And we talked about it and we have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

“Let us make you feel good?”

You lock eyes with the both of them before a “Yes,” leaves your lips.

Junhan gives you a short kiss on the lips before turning to Gaon and saying, “Do your thing.”

Gaon begins by getting on his knees in front of you and stretching his hands across the expanse of your thighs. He asks with his eyes if it's okay to unbutton your pants and you nod frantically. After shucking them and your underwear off of you, he grabs you by the knees and pushes open your legs to reveal your soaked center. Without notice, Junhan sneakily moves in behind you to let your head and body rest on his chest.

Gaon wraps his hands under your thighs and pulls you forward until you’re resting on the edge of the couch. Letting his hands and practiced fingers trail up the insides of your thighs to tease you, he begins to slowly inch his face towards your cunt. Attaching his perfect plump lips to your swollen clit has you keening and leaning back into Junhan before he decides to go even further and push his his middle finger past your entrance and begins fucking you open for him. Pushing in another finger proves to be too much for you as it sends you hurtling towards your climax embarrassingly fast.

“You gonna cum for us baby?” Jun asks softly

One of your hands reaches for Gaon’s hair while the other blindly searches for Junhan’s.

“Yes, please, can I?”

“Cum whenever you want my love.”

And with that, you’re releasing all over Gaon’s tongue and hands. He doesn’t stop when you’ve orgasmed, however. He continues to fuck you through it into oversensitivity until you’re beginning to writhe in Junhan’s arms and Gaon is forced to hold your hips down with his free hand. Junhan then secures his arms around your upper body, effectively trapping you to his chest and making it harder for you to squirm away. Pressing his mouth into you harder, Gaon starts pistoning his fingers in and out of you until you’re nothing but a mess of incoherent whines and babbles.

Gaon continues these motions until, for the first time in your life, you start squirting all over his face.

“Nnnngh!” you let out as the shock of such a quick and powerful orgasm wracks through your body.

“That’s it my love. You’re doing so good for us, isn’t she Gaon?”

Gaon simply replies with a breathy and whiney moan straight into your pussy that has your abdomen clenching and thighs threatening to snap shut around Gaon’s head.

Jesus fuck how was he so good at this? This is definitely the hottest thing that has ever happened to you. You can feel Gaon’s spit soaking your folds and sliding down your ass. That combined with your release just makes the scene extra nasty to any person who could accidentally walk in on the scene in front of them.

Now you’re just hoping that this energy continues throughout the night.

Gaon pulls away from your pussy just long enough to mutter, “What should we do with her next, Junhan-ah?”

—-

In a breath you’re on your knees on the floor sitting on Gaon’s face with Junhan’s cock in your mouth. His hand is laced through your hair and gently guiding you up and down his length. God you could really cum from just sucking his cock. It was perfect. The way he fit inside you just like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle made you never want to let him go.

Gaon’s quiet moans against your pussy bring you back from daydreaming about your boyfriend’s cock. You let go of Junhan with an audible pop! While continuing to stroke him with your hand, you turn your head to look over your shoulder to find Gaon with one hand wrapped around his cock, making your hips twitch against his face. Turning back around you slip Junhan’s cock back into your mouth and start sucking him off with a fervor, your spare hand that isn't laced through Gaon’s hair strokes the remaining inches of his cock that your mouth can’t quite fit. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own as you begin to grind yourself over Gaon’s face. Your moans are music to both of their ears.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N stop for a second, please,” Junhan whines out while gingerly pulling you off his cock.

“What is it, my love?” you whine

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he sighs breathily, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

And with that, Junhan slides his middle and ringer into your mouth and holds your mouth open just enough for him to spit in it. He pulls his fingers out and closes your mouth for you while saying, “Swallow.”

Junhan places his hand on the side of your face and locks eyes with you, he needs your consent. With just one look in your eyes he understands how much you need it. Pulling his hand back, he slaps you across the cheek and you moan out loud and your eyes roll back in your head. Between your legs, Gaon presses his fingers into your g spot and you’re suddenly cumming all over his face once again with a half moan/scream.

Junhan pets your head and asks, “You think you can handle one more, my love?”

You let your head lean into the warmth of Junhan’s hand while you mumble out a simple, “Yeah.”

“Okay. You think you can stand up for me?”

Junhan helps you to your feet and maneuvers you to the back of your couch near the armrest and bends you over it. Gaon then promptly sits with his back against the armrest so he can slide his cock into your mouth.

He then leans down and whispers into your ear, “I like it messy.”

Before you know it, Junhan is slipping his cock between your folds and into your entrance. He slides in so easily and bottoms out inside you in an instant. Your moan is muffled by Gaon's cock between your lips. Drool is sliding down his cock and towards his balls and pelvis while you try your best to ground yourself by gripping on to the couch and Gaon’s thigh.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Gaon whispers out while putting his arms behind his head as you suck him off better than anyone has before. He’s been close for the last 30 minutes so he doesn’t think he’ll be lasting very long with you going down on him like this.

Junhan starts fucking into you a little faster now, your combined earlier releases plus yours and Gaon’s spit is making it incredibly nasty and easy for Junhan to fuck you like a slut over the back of your couch in your living room with one of his best friend’s cocks in your mouth.

As Junhan increasingly picks up his tempo in his thrusts, you begin to push your ass back in time with him. Gaon’s hands are threading through your hair and bobbing your head up and down his cock. The sounds emanating from this living room are downright sinful. Junhan begins slamming his hips into yours.

“God you’re so fucking wet, my love. Absolutely soaking my cock. You love this so much don’t you? You love that you have the two of us having you like this don’t you?”

“Yeah she does. She’s sucking my cock so well right now. Moaning like a good girl as she takes whatever we give her.”

God your mind is melting. The words coming from their mouths plus the combination of Gaon’s cock in your mouth and Junhan’s cock between your legs has you coming around Junhan in no time.

He leans down to whisper how good you are and how much he loves you along with more filth about cumming inside you and filling you up with his cum. His whining starts to pick up more as he gets closer to his peak and all of the sudden Gaon is letting out a loud groan and cumming in your mouth.

A few more thrusts later and Junhan is cumming inside you with a loud moan. You all just bask in the after sex glow for a minute to catch your breath before Gaon is gently pulling you off his cock and checking to see if you’re okay and Junhan is running off to the bathroom for a wet washcloth.

You feel your combined releases start to drip down your legs and grimace while Gaon laughs at you and gives you a kiss on the nose.

After returning from the bathroom, Junhan wipes you up and invites you and Gaon to walk with him to the bedroom.

Gaon gives you a small pat on the butt before loudly asking, “So when are we doing this again?”

You and Junhan both laugh before you hear Dee loudly exclaim from your parents’ room, “IS IT SAFE TO COME OUT NOW?”

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

Going back to our roots here what’s your brutally honest opinion about lucaya and joshaya if you’re up for some throwbacks

this message physically aged me 45 years 😭

lucaya- like, it was obviously planned from the beginning, but here's the thing: their dynamic was tired as hell. you see it in every piece of media ever. they were BORING. also I just genuinely almost never liked lucas lmfao. there were a handful of lines throughout 3 seasons that got a laugh out of me- and it was always when he was playing the idiot or confused part, if they had just let him be the wannabe eric of the show it could have been amazing. as for maya, I definitely wasn't as attached to her as I was riley, she just kinda got on my nerves a bit, but Dear God Did She Deserve Better. the triangle was drawn out WAY too long. by the end of it both girls should have left lucas in the dust. we see the 'official' triangle plotline start on new years eve, and end in late september/early october. in no world should it have taken him that long, ESPECIALLY when he knew what a strain it was putting on the girls relationship. if he really cared he would have stepped back, like, literally, it is very very possible to have feelings for someone and not date them, oh my God. farkle had the girls fighting over him ONE time and was like 'hey no I love you guys too much to see you upset'. lucas friar you will always be hated<3

joshaya- I need to get this out of the way because I saw it so much: maya was not trying to date josh when she snuck into the college party. the college girls were not telling josh to date maya. one of josh's friends hits on maya and riley and maya said We Are In Eighth Grade. she's not delusional. the whole episode was how she wanted josh to stop ignoring her. there's subtext ladies!!! cory and topanga were practically raising maya since she was 5. even if it's not addressed too well on screen, you have to be aware that maya and josh have known each other practically their whole lives. considering how close josh is with cory, riley, and auggie, that tells us he saw the family on a regular basis growing up (he literally left his parents and took a train at like 4 in the morning just so cory could open his college letter with him). so josh and maya were likely good friends as children! what we see with his introduction to the show is he starts treating her more as a kid, as his niece's friend, and thinks her feelings are silly and she says No. I need you to take me seriously here. I don't want our friendship to change just because you're in college now. my feelings are not stupid and I want you to respect me. (also. side note. they never said josh's age in the show right?? because for him to start college when he did would make him older than he should have been based on the boy meets world timeline...like, I was kinda working under the assumption he skipped a grade or two in high school but everyone else was like Known Grown Man And Pedophile Josh Matthews Asked A Toddler To Go To The Movies As Friends lmfao). anyway. she asks him to respect her and he does!!! genuine shock and awe! lucas friar found dead in a ditch! lmao. their vague 'let's see how we feel in a few years' talk reminded me a lot of the cory/topanga yearbook quote scene, and they had great chemistry! it didn't feel like something I've seen a thousand times before. it's not like they promised to swear off dating and wait for her 18th birthday, she was basically dating zay by the end of the show. they just said 'we've known each other for a while, there's definitely something between us but this isn't the right time for us to explore it, so let's be friends like we used to' (see: what lucas should have done during the triangle). josh had a tiny bit of an edge to him, but with the dorky matthews heart, which tbh was exactly what maya wanted. I loved how maya acted around josh, it lead to some of her funniest and most open moments in the show. I loved how gentle josh was with her even when she was being annoying. I love a good childhood crush to actual lovers story! sue me! lmao I think if the show had gotten as many seasons as boy meets world they really could have been something special

[thespianinthebackcorner]

okay so Hazbin season 1 just ended (spoiler alert) and by GOD that was an ending. I love it. I was panicking so bad after Alastor just disappeared halfway through the battle and then afterwards the only ones who seemed to notice were the Vees (of course they did. I see you Vox) but he came back later anyway. More spoilers and theories under the cut

BUT! He came back eventually, he's not dead. That scene in the studio was... A lot. I love it, it perfectly sets up next season- Alastor is clearly going to be the star of the show. Husker was right, he is bound to someone, and he's clearly not happy about it. actually he's just going through it as a whole, clearly there's more on his mind than the battle. He's on his last nerve, and one thing I noticed was that throughout episodes 7 and 8- and, now that I think about it, the whole season- there's a couple hints towards Alastor repressing his true feelings, and that the consequences are starting to come back to bite him. It's even outright implied through his conversation with Charlie- he himself says that just because he's smiling it doesn't mean anything about what he's actually feeling underneath. Much like Alastor I also enjoy seeing characters cry and lose their hold, and I think next season will be that moment for him.

Kay I need to reorganise this post. Bullet point time, ATAR style

Season 1:

hints all over the shop that Alastor is repressing his feelings and it's going to come back

Confirmation with the scene at the end of Episode 8 that Alastor is indeed bound to someone and those binds are incredibly tight, he can't get out easily

According to him, said deal restricts his actions to an extent, enough that he's starting to feel suffocated

I know Dad Beat Dad was a joke for him, but from the way he protected the hotel I think he's also starting to realise how much he actually does care about Charlie in his own way.

Compared to the beginning of the series, Alastor is getting pushed closer to the edge more often. He's getting more annoyed and losing his composure, the amount of swearing he was doing in that last fight with Adam Asshole Supreme shows that just fine- not to mention his reaction to Husker's confrontation and his clear annoyance and even jealousy of Lucifer throughout Dad Beat Dad.

Enough hints that he's being controlled by Lilith for the fandom to notice at large

Lilith being hinted to return to Hell in Season Two

Not stated in the actual show but Alastor speaks with a Transatlantic accent, which is a fake accent created by tv and radio presenters of his time. What we hear isn't his actual voice, unless being in Hell also changes your voice, which considering Vaggie didn't change after coming down and Pentious didn't change after going up doesn't seem to be the case

Predictions for Season Two:

Alastor's clearly had enough of his restraints, I think he's going to find a way out of it

Lilith is not going to be happy with him for that, I get the feeling he's also already done something she's not going to like

Lilith Is Going To Bitch Slap Alastor (this is inevitable and I am looking forward to it)

Considering sound is Alastor's greatest asset and what he does, i think at some point it's going to be taken away from him- either through inability to speak or inability to hear, or both

This would also mean he'd need to resort to visuals for communication, which will likely be a struggle- I don't think Alastor is the type to learn sign language, he's a radio presenter, so he's going to have to learn it somehow. I'm not actually sure if anyone else at the hotel does but Husker might (he seems like he would, just for kicks). Or they might come up with some other way to communicate

If I'm right then he'll also have to properly learn to lean on the others instead of stepping away like he usually does

At some point that smile and that accent are going to drop. And it will be a MOMENT.

Season Two will be based on a villain, yes, but this show is all about redemption and while Alastor clearly doesn't want to try that in the traditional sense, I think the next season is definitely going to be redemption for him in a different sense- less redemption, more healing.

The other patrons of the hotel are definitely attached to him now, Lilith better watch her back.

Side note, Pentious better come back and get his girl he's not leaving like that

Maybe I should turn this into a fanfic

Maybe it's copium but to me next season will be ALL about Alastor and how he fits in with the show itself. And I am so ready for it. That boy is going to cry whether he likes it or not.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

If there was ever a remake of On The Edge, they should just cast Cillian's son, Aran, and you'd never even fucking notice. ABSOLUTE SPIT OF HIS DAD! There's a particular scene where he's outside and the camera is squared in on his face and I swear to god, his son is his double, but like throughout... It's madness! My kids don't look like me, I find it fascinating when other people's do 🤣

Tonight I'm watching On The Edge, in case you didn't realise.

[yoonzinuhh]

IF you leave me — soonyoung

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : y/n x soonyoung

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : nothing lol

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : this is purely fiction. i tried my best to relate certain scenes from the lyrics of IF you leave me. hopefully it turned out decent. reblogs would be really appreciated hehe <3.

the time,my world,they may move on again

you feel your world stuck. the moment you meet his eyes again,after 4months,when you finally thought you were over this,you world was stuck again. at 8pm in your local convenience store.

the last time it was stuck was that night when you both screamed your lungs out,hugging each other tight,tears flowing on each other when you both decided to part ways. you wanted this to end on good terms but words were thrown at each other like sharp edged knives without knowing it could leave deeper scars on both of you.

you both knew the love was falling apart. efforts were lessened,you barely saw each other inspite of living together,priorities were changed. you love was definitely falling apart because if it was still the same atleast one of you would’ve tried to change yourself for the other,right ?

the first time you met soonyoung was at a career guidance program during your first year of college. the bright guy,who couldn’t keep his eyes off you or his feet on ground for a moment. the guy who you knew you will fall for.

“soonyoung! and you ?”

“y/n..y/f/n” you gave your hand returning a smile

from strangers to friends to lovers to strangers again. trope sounded good but your heart was ripping apart.

i’ll stay by your side throughout the endless times

he said while staring at you with full of love. during the night you both moved in together,standing in the balcony watching the streets with lights. you swear your world stuck. stuck in his eyes.

he slowly leaned down. his soft lips moving onto yours while his hands were holding yours. you both were so in love,life was good,when you were his. when he was yours.

in the distant future…no,i just don’t want to think about it

the first time you both had a serious fight. well it was childish,you thought. you both started your internship. you tried your best to give your time to work as well as him,so did he. but god it was hard when you see your efforts being little too much than the other’s. but it ended up with cuddles,apologies,forehead kisses and a date plan. ofcourse you can’t leave him. you can’t even think about leaving him. things were back to normal. you both started making time for each other. fridays movie nights were always there. but how long could it last,when you know it was forced?

my heart,which was broken

you could physically feel your heart break. “you’re..you’re just making this harder for me y/n..just leave me alone”

10-8 work was just so hard for both of you. you planned a surprise date for your fiancé,soonyoung. you knew he was stressed and you just wanted him to feel better but in return he broke your heart,into pieces.

“fine..” that’s all you could gather up to say. you wanted to tell him to fuck off but how could you ?

[back to present]

you both just stare. stare until he comes forward. your heart beats fast,fast and faster. just the way it did when he said his first i love you.

he looked the same as you. puffy tired eyes that was probably from crying every night. he looks skinnier too. same as you,again.

“y/n..how are you doing” pathetic.terrible.sick.

if you were to describe how you really felt. there’s it.

you just nod,looking at the ground feeling tears prick out. you can’t just cry infront of him. you can’t let him know he still affects you. that would affect your ego. but he holds so much power over you,your first and only love after all.

“i-i have to leave..it’s late” you rush past him.

“y/n..Y/N ! p-please..wait..” he caught your cold trembling hand making you pause for him. again.

“i’m sorry..”

thats all you said before forcefully detach your hands from him.

you wanted him but this won’t be the same. you were mad. you were mad that he wasted 6 years of your love life,mad that he didn’t think of your heart,mad that he made you feel this way,mad that he did’t even fight for this,for you,mad that he isn’t the same. so weren’t you.

[feral-girl-fall]

Knife's Edge

Contains major spoilers for the end of Fourth Wing, be warned!

Summary: Missing scene of the battle to save Violet's life after she's gravely wounded. Heavy angst and family feels from the POV of our favorite rebel mender.

Pairing: Violet Sorrengail/Xaden Riorson

Warnings: Angst, SPOILERS, swearing, blood __________________________________________________________

Of course the day had started out quiet. They always do, the days that turn out in the end to be the worst days of your life. The patrols had been quiet for once, with no recent attacks on the border, and the tension amongst the council was lower than it had been for ages. The prickle of unease that seemed to live in my gut these days, however, was particularly active. Like the hair standing up on the back of your neck when you feel someone watching you, or the way you can feel the change in the air before a storm. It was like some part of me knew that the new life I’d been building was about to be upended.

And then it – and a full riot of dragons – came crashing down around us. I’d had precious few moments of warning from one of the lookouts before the riot was upon us. Xaden had crash-landed into Aretia more than a few times, so it wasn’t the sight of him and Sgaeyl – or even the sight of what looked to be a limp rider in his arms – that made my heart stop. It wasn’t the first time Riorson brought me a gravely wounded rider, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

What made my blood turn to ice was the sight of Naolin’s, now my sister’s, dragon. Riderless.

The realization has me breaking into a sprint, the only thought in my mind a screaming echo of no, no, no. My world narrows to a point. I hope against hope, against logic, that there’s some other explanation, but the rising nausea in my gut tells me all I need to know.

Xaden practically tumbles down off of Sgaeyl, his usual grace forgotten in his desperation. I reach him in a few strides and find my worst fears confirmed. Violet hangs limply in his arms, pale as anything and looking…. I reach out, pushing her hair aside as I search for her pulse. My own heart pounds in my ears as I focus, blocking out everything until I feel the faint beats underneath my fingertips.

“What happened? I could be whispering or yelling, I can’t tell over the sound of ringing in my ears.

“A venin with a poisoned blade stabbed her.” Xaden’s voice is rough with fear.

She was supposed to be safe. All I can think from the moment I tear Violet’s body from Xaden, throughout my sprint to the healing chambers, is that she was supposed to be safe. Everything I – we – sacrificed, and keep sacrificing day after day, is so that our loved ones can one day be safe. I try to tamp down the rising panic sending my heart rate through the roof and making my hands unsteady. It’s not the first time I’m mended Violet, not by far. It’s also not the first time I’ve mended someone on death’s door. But I’d prayed to all the gods I wasn’t even sure I believed in that I’d never been in this scenario with her.

The panic is an albatross, crushing my chest as I fight to regain my control. Even with Violet, I’ve never had an issue with keeping my cool while mending. But now, as I swear I can feel her life slipping through my fingers, it’s a race against both time and my own terror to save her.

“It’s okay, Vi. I’ve got you, I’m here. It’s going to be okay.” I don’t even know when I started talking, but it forces me to steady my breathing enough to focus on saving my sister’s life. She’s never needed my reassurance, not with the pain she grits her teeth and bears every day of her life, but it’s never stopped me giving it. I try to stop my mind from thinking about how I also want her to hear my voice again, just in case. I’m snapped out of my reverie by the door to the chambers shutting as Xaden comes in behind me, pale as a ghost.

“How long has she been out?” I toss over my shoulder at him as I work to expose the gruesome wound sapping the life from my sister. It’s a deep laceration, oozing black, tainted blood. Fuck.

“Hours,” Xaden manages, voice shaking. “Her pulse has been fading for the last hour or so.”

If I’m not mistaken, it’s slowed even from the time I first took in minutes ago. I bite back a curse as I realize the extent of the damage. “Her blood,” Xaden whispers, unnecessarily. I fight to keep from recoiling as I take full stock of the blackened blood oozing from her wound.

“Hold on, Violet,” I murmur down at my sister. “Just keep fighting. I’ll do the rest.” I see her brow furrow slightly in pain, and my heart clenches. As much as I wish she could hear my reassurance, to know that I’m here, the thought of her being able to feel this pain in the depths of her unconsciousness is too much to bear. “Just breathe, Vi. Just breathe,” I remind her, just in case she can hear me. I send up a quick prayer that she truly can’t feel anything right now, that she isn’t in the hell I’m sure she is. Tears prick at my eyes, emotion threatening to overflow. For all the times I’ve wished I could see her again, gods, not like this. I take a few steadying breaths to even out my panicked breathing, and ground myself in my power. A rush of warm, reassuring energy rises under my skin. The second I start drawing away the poison from her bloodstream, I feel it. Heavy, sickening, toxic waves wash over me as I leech the poison away as quickly as I can. Whatever the venin had access to, it's stronger - and deadlier - than most poisons I'm familiar with.

Time passing is marked only by heartbeats and breaths – mine strained, Xaden’s panicked, Violet’s shallow. I can feel myself growing weaker as her blood starts to become progressively redder, and the familiar mending energy erupts into a screaming, burning pain. I fight back the nausea and the scream on my lips as I realize how close I am to burning out, and how close Violet is to leaving this world. My entire being vibrates with barely constrained energy, fighting to bring my sister back from the edge. She’s on the brink of death, and I don’t know if either of us will make it through this.

“Brennan-“ Xaden must sense it too, but there’s nothing to be said, nothing to be done but to keep going. I finally draw out the last of the poison and stumble back on my heels as my vision tunnels. Xaden puts a hand on my arm, thought whether it’s to steady me or him I couldn’t say. I take another deep breath, trying to control the overflowing power but feeling it whip wildly through me. Sweating, shaking, I manage to wrest back enough control to messily close the gaping wound in Violet’s side a heartbeat before I stumble backwards, collapsing as Xaden lunges to catch me.

“I’m fine,” I manage, tears choking my voice despite my best efforts. I’m not, but it doesn’t matter. The room spins around me even as Xaden helps lower me to the ground. The darkness takes hold before I even make it there.

[siremasterlawrence]

You Owe Me

Detective Andrew Ray Mulligan is awoken at the bedside when his cell phone ringing and vibrating loudly forcing him to answer the call. He stares at the screen unhappily to see his boss and he is told to come to a crime scene his anger rages loudly in the high of the moment.

He angrily gets up trudging to his shower he turns on the bath the time flies by as he is lathering up throughout his body the suds grow. He returns to his room shifting to and through his closet he gets his uniforms from a hanger getting dressed he grabs his keys leaving.

Slamming the door he walks in to the car in a huff he sits in the driver seat, placing his hands on the panel he slid down and the keys in the ignition, and swipes the keys as the engine revs on. He drives off to a wooden secluded area for from his home hitting the side road.

Nearing the edge of the city the cop car is lit brightly racing through the area the cabin is blown up for all to see, he exhaustively is sighing dragging on come to a form he stop the car, and proceeds to exit his feet hit the ground. The door closes a bit laying on the car door.

He is not to exciting for the scene unfolding before him showcasing everything with the more and more cops flooding the area a bit of it. They root through the trash, car, home and more he stood not to knowledgeable about the situation and another guy came to him.

Andrew time is sped up in the movement of it all landing in between the tape ropes he lift it upward he slid under it crossing past the lawn he see a strange light in his face it roams the chain. He snuck in passing his chief officer checking the compound front to back.

“FREEZE” he shouts hands on his gun as he opens the door, pulling out his gun steadily not startling him, the man raises his hands in smarmy way, the cop searches pushing him to the wall slamming him down and he patting him down and feeling him up he has no idea.

“Who are you punk? Answer me? Don’t you dare move on me? What the fuck?” He yells finding an odd object in his right pocket it is glowing surrounding the encasing of his own room. The man bends his hands behind his back using his hand cuffs to tightening it on him.

“You are under arrest….uuuuuhhhh….what are you…doing jerk….bastard…stop flashing it…you will be taken in….” Andrew states in a shock the young man kicks him in the shin as he pushes back.

“You thought I would let you take me in.”

“Yyyyeeesss! Arrogant prick”

“Men like you suck”

“I am not in the mood to hear your”

“SHUT UP!”

“I will own you soon enough”

“Why can’t I move?”

“Let me go”

“Remove my handcuff”

“Throw them to the side”

“Kiss me”

“Make it work”

“Stare deep in to my eyes “

“Surrender to the void”

“You can’t fight”

“You can’t resist me”

“You love me”

“Live for me “

“I feel like I know you”

“You don’t “

“I don’t”

“Swear your allegiance to me”

“I swear”

“To serve”

“You can’t win”

“I am your God”

“My God!”

“Succumbing all to me”

“I am slipping “

“Take ownership of me”

“You racist piece of shit”

“Yeah babe!”

“I slapped you”

“You need me”

“Why can’t you see that “

“Kiss me, embrace me and do as I say “

“I can’t…must…have too”

“B-u-t”

“What?”

“Stop fighting me”

“You are not in charge “

“Report”

“Yyyyeeesssss”

“We can do this all night”

“Report detective”

“You hate me”

“Don’t you?”

“Yes”

“Fuck you”

“I am so awful right “

“You are ugly mess”

“SMASH”

“Oooowww”

“Bitch”

The end

[phantomrose96]

Hello sorry to barge in with the word vomit/ramble, just wanted to let you know that god. Oh my god. You dont know how many things you’ve uncovered in me.

I started reading like, yesterday afternoon due to an animation for this fic, dreading over the word-count. I thought I could just read a little to catch a grasp of the fic, then put it to the side when my interest dies, and then 12 hours of reading happened and now I’m sitting awake at 1 AM wondering what the fuck happened to my emotions.

Cause?? I just?? Adored it so much?? The writing is such an experience to read, you just nail every single detail that just immerses me into the current scene or event. The amount of details picked and imbedded are just enough to fully paint a picture while also not overwhelming me with information. It was a Joy to read, and shone whenever a revaluation and/or breakdown happens to a character (no plural, we know all know which one). The tension parts always shakes me over with anxiety (like the teru v ritsu 2, one of my favorites), the tiny and wholesome moments are so well described too?? You know what’s happening and you know your heart it not coming out unscathed but nope, you sit there and take the pain as now the characters are allowed a sense of comfort and you realize how much they needed it after watching their lives turn into a slow motion titanic scene.

AND THE CHARACTERS, the characterization is immaculate I swear. Its so different from what I’m used to in the best ways plus more. I love how mob is just a confused kid trying his best and reigen is just Some Guy who managed to completely tear down (or breach-) the emotional walls of every Kageyama kid in sight and just?? Let them know he’s there for them?? Let them be kids?? His interactions with Ritsu is so tragic cause Reigen will just not let go of the fact that Ritsu is fucking thirteen and does not need this much stress condensed in him (god bless burger scene, also a favorite). And Ritsu. He is so insane it makes me want to blow up a house (positive connotation). The dude is just a walking car wreck that is slowly parking at the edge of a cliff. Just the way he snaps in the most unhinged and self destructive ways makes me want to set him down in a pile of blankets, because child you are not leaving until you book a therapist appointment. Teru makes him 10x worst its comical, they just hate each other, barfs at eachothers presence but also they’d entrust their lives to the other’s no problem, what are worst enemies with slight fond attachments are for (Ritsu realizing he was manipulating Teru all along, naturally? A well aimed strike that rattled my core, incredible). Ritsu’s journey throughout the fic has been a sight to witness, from him being a emotionally stunted mess to an emotionally stunted, but now slightly considerate, mess. Character development.

This story has been an absolute delight to finish, and my thoughts will still run wild for about a week. I cannot thank you enough for writing this and sharing this to the world of ao3.

(ABoT)

fbjhfbj eating this review eating this eating this

I'm!!!! Okay to approach this in pieces.

>breakdown happens to a character (no plural, we all know which one)

we all know which one....

I'm just saying this could still be about literally ANY character named Ritsu in this story.

Also yes!!! Another Ritsu vs Teru v2 enjoyer!! I was so goddamn excited getting to that part of the story. The role inversion between Ritsu and Teru. The weight of Ritsu making this a spirit possession battle against Teru of all people, and that being why Ritsu is able to hold his own against Teru who is so much stronger than him.

And absolutely ABoT is all about the small wholesome moments, cuz each and every one of those are wrestled in tatters out of the jaw of tragedy and misery which, to me, makes them extra special. The absolute fighting tooth and nail for happiness and betterment.

>reigen is just Some Guy who managed to completely tear down (or breach-) the emotional walls of every Kageyama kid in sight and just?? Let them know he’s there for them?? Let them be kids??

yep yep yep the double-meaning of "Breach" in the title. Breach trust. Breach the barrier. The role of lies and the role of trust in that very core element of Mob's barrier.

And I really adored writing all the Ritsu and Reigen interactions because they are. just. the worst for each other. But also Reigen is who Ritsu needs. And that hard fight to save Ritsu happens in the form of screaming matches that destroy a McDonalds and the massive decimation of innocent Build-A-Bears. The burger scene is. SO near and dear to my heart.

>And Ritsu. He is so insane it makes me want to blow up a house (positive connotation).

Ritsu "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you wanna just go apeshit?" Kageyama. I love writing him as a foil against the Reigen and Mob plotline. Because both Reigen and Mob have been hurt, and their reponses are much more focused on how to heal themselves. Ritsu's been hurt (and Teru, too) and their responses are to lash out and hurt everything back. ABoT runs the whole spectrum of catharthis for just "You've been badly wronged. Wouldn't you just like to [heal] [have someone who cares] [seek revenge and destroy the world which destroyed you]?"

>(Ritsu realizing he was manipulating Teru all along, naturally? A well aimed strike that rattled my core, incredible)

I deeply loved writing the Teru and Ritsu plotline just every step of the way. And the hardest part was writing all the build up knowing the role-reversal was coming without tipping my hand--the part where Ritsu would surpass Teru in awfulness, where it would become Teru desperately clinging to morals and trying his hardest to stop Ritsu. And this all starts with the pivot in ch31 as Ritsu realizes he IS in a position to take advantage of Teru... because Teru sees him as a friend.

fkjfdnkjfddf thank you for this review! I'm eating it I'm eating it. You're talking about so many of the things that make me feral for this story and why I wrote it in the first place. It's the trauma it's the healing it's the character development it's the character regression it's the beating your bestie to death on a soccer field it's the taking a traumatized kid to get ramen it's the mindless destruction of a Build-A-Bear Workshop it's the manipulation it's the trying to do better it's the idea that self-sacrifice doesn't actually save the people around you who need you it's the different ways tragedy affects people it's the lighting a corpse on fire then slashing your own throat it's the adopting a kitten named Socks it's the corruption it's the possession it's the cursed Jade Statue that just follows you everywhere for no reason

[multifandomfanfic]

Hey!! Love you guys’ work. Could I request a Hangman x reader x Bob 👀 smut where the reader is either Hangman’s girlfriend or just a friend of both of them and Hangman is showing Bob how to treat a woman right (if u catch my drift)? Thanks! 💕

Sexual Education

Pairing: Bob x fem! Reader x Hangman

Warnings: slightly insecure Bob, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, language, voyeurism (kind of)

Summary: It’s a typical night at The Hard Deck. But an unexpected conversation with Bob exposes one of his secrets. Hangman and you vow to teach him a few things to help him form future relationship.

Word Count: 7.5k

The entire crew of pilots waited with bated breath, their eyes wide with anticipation. The tension in the room was palpable; nobody moved, nobody spoke. The pilot’s brows were covered in a thin layer of sweat, either from the heat or the stress of the situation. Their hearts began to race, the blood rushing away from their faces, turning them white with anxiety.

We'd been waiting all night for this moment.

My stomach flipped with nervous energy as I watched intently, my eyes never leaving the scene in front of me. The pilot's actions were eerily similar to mine. The liquid in their drinks had sat untouched for several minutes, their attention unable to be drawn away from the intense game. This was the night's most crucial event.

The black eight ball rolled into the basket with a soft clank. After a brief moment of processing what had occurred, all of the pilots broke out in a chorus of shocked exclamations and turned to discuss what had happened right in front of their eyes. I grinned with delight, finally allowing myself to take a breath. He had done it. He had won. God, I would never hear the end of this.

“Oh! You lost, Coyote!”

The voice of Hangman reverberated throughout the bar as I watched him beam with pride over his victory. I chuckled and finished the last sip of my beer. Hangman reminded Coyote about the bet connected to the game of billiards as the cool liquid trickled down my throat. By the way he was gloating about his most recent victory, a passerby might have assumed he'd just discovered the cure for cancer. But, no, he defeated a friend in a pool game.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my shoulder against one of the white support poles, the sweating neck of the beer bottle nearly slipping from my grip. Hangman was scouring the room for compliments on his most recent pool game victory.

“Fuck man, you’re too good at this game.”

Hangman casually tossed the pool stick on the table.

“A bet is a bet, Coyote.”

Coyote rolled his eyes, irritated that he had lost.

“I know, I know.”

Coyote spoke with an exasperated tone before turning to address the entire crowd of pilots.

“Another round for everyone, on me!”

I tossed my empty beer bottle into a trash can behind me, tucked beneath the bar's edge. The pilots were all ecstatic to receive a free drink, and they hooped and hollered in delight.

“What’s going on Y/N?”

Penny, who was standing directly behind me, inquired. I swung around and leaned against the bar's edge, locking eyes with Penny. Despite the large crowd, few people were gathered around the bar. They were overly concerned with the hyper pilots.

“Hangman bet Coyote he could beat him three times at eight ball. The loser had to buy a round for all the pilots.”

Penny chuckled and slowly shook her head.

“I don’t know how you put up with him, Y/N. I swear every day he ignites some form of competition.”

I shrugged nonchalantly, grinning.

“I love him regardless.”

Penny shifted her gaze to the side of my temple.

“Oh! Speak of the devil!”

Hangman's rough palm brushed against my lower back before settling into a comfortable position around my waist. He yanked me into his side, slamming me into his solid frame. I raised my head, my gaze meeting Hangman's. His eyes sparkled with pride, and he wore a ridiculously happy grin.

“Are you lovely ladies talking about me?”

“We were discussing your triumphant win against Coyote.”

Penny chimed in. Her words drew Hangman's attention, his grin widening as he accepted the compliment.

“Thank you, Penny. Will you grab us another round and put it on Coyote’s tab?”

“Of course. Another round coming up.”

Penny scoffed. Then, Hangman slapped the bar with an open palm and shifted his gaze back to me.

“Alright baby, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

He leaned in close, giving my cheek a quick happy peck before pulling back with a wider grin that showed off his pearly whites glistening in the low light ambiance of the bustling bar.

“I’ll be right back...”

He gently rubbed my side.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

I sighed and flashed him an exaggerated pout.

“Be back quick!”

Hangman laughed and strode confidently away from me, towards the bathroom. I kept a close eye on him, watching as various pilots congratulated him on his victory before he disappeared into the restroom.

I didn't realize how much commotion the pilots were causing until the thrill of the eight-ball victory wore off. I could now hear myself think. Not unlike the aftermath of a rock concert, the noise level in the bar had dropped to a low rumble.

Thanks to the reduction of background noise, I could make out the faint sound of… crunching?

My brow furrowed as I whipped my head around in an attempt to locate the source of the noise.

What the hell?

The only part of the bar obstructed from my view was directly behind the white support pole that held up The Hard Deck's ceiling. I craned my neck around the pole to reveal none other than Mr. Bob Floyd, snacking on a comically large bucket of peanuts.

“Well, well, well.”

I clicked my tongue. My sly remark jolted Bob out of his peanut stupor. To meet my amused expression, he jerked his head upwards.

“If it isn’t Mr. Robert Floyd.”

His glasses fell down the bridge of his nose as a result of his spontaneous head movement. Bob tightened his lips into a rigid smile as he pushed his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger.

“Hey Y/N!”

He gave me a meek wave as he exclaimed.

I smiled back and walked to the opposite side of Bob, leaning my back against the billiard table’s edge, Bob's gentle gaze following me intently.

“What’s going on, Robert? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Bob shrugged.

“The usual, nothing special, just… planes and work.”

He said with a chuckle. Thank goodness the din has died down; otherwise, his tiny voice would have been lost in the roar of the pilots.

My attention was drawn to Bob's lap, which was completely covered in peanut shells. I giggled.

"Robert, I think you spilled a little.”

Bob jerked his head downwards, gasping softly as he hurriedly wiped the peanut remnants from his pants.

“God, I’m such a mess.”

Bob mumbled under his breath.

“How’s your night been?”

I asked as he finished brushing the shells from his pristine beige pants. Bob brought our gazes back together, his face flushed with embarrassment. Who'd have guessed that peanuts could be so mortifying?

“Fine. Y’know, just hanging out.”

“Robert.”

As I attempted to address the enormous elephant in the room, I spoke flatly, my voice devoid of emotion.

“What?”

Bob asked innocently.

“I hardly call sitting here by yourself 'hanging out.’”

I raised my hands and placed air quotes around the last two words to suggest that the term “hanging out” entailed more than just sitting in the corner alone. Bob gnawed on his lower lip, releasing some of his nervous energy.

“Why don’t you go play pool or meet a girl?”

At the mere mention of the word "girl," Bob’s entire body seized with shock, his eyes widening in awe, as if he couldn't believe I'd brought women into the conversation.

“Oh no! I couldn’t do that.”

Bob swallowed loudly as he chuckled anxiously. I shrugged casually, dismissing his concerns despite not fully knowing them.

“Why not? I'm willing to bet a million dollars that there are at least twenty quiet girls in our presence who were dragged here by their friends.”

Bob glanced around, scrutinizing each patron mingling with their friends. He was considering it, wondering if what I said was true. Perhaps he'd have a chance with one of the attractive women in the bar.

I held my breath in anxious anticipation.

Was he going to do it?

I sincerely hoped so. Bob was so tense that getting laid would be extremely beneficial to him.

Bob took another look around the bar before shaking his head. I exhaled through my nose in disappointment. For a brief moment, I thought he'd follow my advice.

“I can’t Y/N.”

Bob said, his tone defeated. He swiveled his head around to meet my eyes, his face expressionless as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Why not?”

I inquired, trying not to lose my cool and show Bob my growing annoyance.

“I’ve never...”

His face flushed red with shame as he realized what he was about to confess. My face contoured into a shocked expression as realization washed over me. My brows shot up onto my brow, my forehead growing tight as I dropped my jaw.

“I know, it’s embarrassing.”

Bob sagged in his chair.

“No, no, no!”

I waved my hands in the air, attempting to persuade Bob to dismiss my shocked expression. Oh, my God, I've just made poor Bob feel even worse.

“I guess I’m just surprised. I mean... there was never that one special girl?”

Bob pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

“No, never.”

My shoulder sagged as I exhaled deeply. To avoid revealing Bob's secret to the entire bar, I reduced my voice to a whisper.

“Damn, man. I mean, I figured you’d be inexperienced, but a virgin?!”

“Wait, Bob’s a virg?”

Fuck.

I jerked my head around to see Hangman cocking his brow slyly as he eavesdropped on our conversation without us knowing. Bob and I were so engrossed in our conversation that we were completely unaware Hangman was only inches away.

My eyes widened. It was impossible to refute what I had just said. Hangman looked over my shoulder to meet Bob’s gaze. I cast a glance to my left to see how Bob was handling the situation. His cheeks were tomato red, and his eyes stared blankly ahead of him like a deer in headlights.

“Bob, seriously, never?! I mean, it’s not like quiet girls are difficult to find! I bet you a thousand dollars that at least 20 girls in this bar were dragged here by their outgoing friends!”

I turned my head to face Hangman.

“That’s exactly what I said!”

“Guys! Please, lower your voices!”

Our ever-increasingly loud voices jolted Bob out of his trance.

“Sorry!”

Hangman and I both apologized in unison. Fortunately, everyone was completely absorbed in their own conversations and didn't even notice little old Bob.

“Bob… have you ever like… fingered a girl?”

Hangman lowered his voice at the end of the sentence to avoid being overheard. Bob pursed his lips and silently shook his head.

“Have you ever gotten a blowjob?”

Bob shook his head once more.

Damn.

If I knew how dire the situation was I’d have taken his virginity long ago before I even considered dating Hangman.

“Have you ever kissed a girl!?”

“Yes…”

Hangman exhaled a sigh of relief and placed his hand over his heart.

“Ok… that’s a start.”

Hangman received a concerned look from me. He stared at me, mirroring my concern.

A brief thought dashed through my brain. It was completely wrong, horribly wrong. I wish it had never crossed my mind. It should not have crossed my mind

But Hangman was aware of my thoughts. I watched as his expression shifted from concern to a sly grin.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He asked, his tone dripping with suggestiveness.

“Depends, what are you thinking?”

Hangman's eyes drifted from mine, to Bob.

“What are you guys thinking?”

Bob asked meekly, completely oblivious to our unspoken idea.

“I’m thinking Y/N and I should show you a few tricks.”

Wait… both of us? Damn, I thought I’d just have sex with Bob and call it a day. I guess Hangman was in on this as well.

Bob's jaw dropped, small sweat droplets forming on his hairline, the moisture glistening off his brow. Despite the fact that his glasses were completely secure, he nervously pushed them up his nose.

“Hangman… I don’t wanna affect your rela-“

“Don’t worry about it.”

Hangman waved away his concerns.

“It’s purely a learning experience, nothing more. No strings attached.”

Hangman and I both stared at Bob, waiting for his approval. His eyes were dancing, darting from Hangman to me and back again.

“I mean…”

His voice trailed off as he nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, his hands fidgeting with the bucket of peanuts.

“If Y/Ns okay with it.”

Both Hangman and Bob’s eyes were drawn to me, now waiting for my approval.

I have to admit, the idea of both Bob and Hangman was arousing. I'd always had a soft spot for Bob. Something about his awkwardness and soft gaze behind his funny glasses made him strangely appealing. But the truth is that I knew he had little experience with relationships, and I wasn't drawn to him enough to try to push past his nervousness. A guy like Hangman would help to balance out the awkwardness.

God, it was a match made in heaven.

“Sure, I’m on board.”

I tried not to sound too excited about the idea of a threesome, as I was supposed to be the confident one in this situation. It was Bob's turn to be both nervous and excited for what was to come.

“Alright then.”

With a small clap, Hangman grabbed both of our gazes.

“Let’s do this.”

-

We were all lounging around in Bob's bedroom, sitting on the floor, having a quick beer before the night's inevitable climax.

There was no reason to rush the process. Hangman and I might as well take a little extra time to make Bob comfortable before we placed him in a fairly awkward situation for a virgin.

“Before we start Bob, you need to realize that it’s okay to speak up and say you’re uncomfortable. Y/N and I aren’t going to judge you if you wanna tap out… you have my word.”

Hangman nodded toward me, indicating that I should give him my word.

“You have my word as well, Robert.”

Bob kept his eyes fixed on the beer bottle, fidgeting with the label's free corners.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

He spoke quietly. I extended my arm towards him, squeezing his surprisingly muscular bicep in hopes of reassuring him.

“What are you worried about?”

I asked sympathetically.

“That I’m gonna… mess it up.”

“It’s all about communication Bob.”

Hangman chimes in.

“Sex really isn’t that complicated as long as you have confidence and the courage to communicate.”

I nodded.

“That’s solid advice.”

While tenderly rubbing Bob's bicep, I agreed with Hangman.

Alright, time to get this show on the road.

I stood to my full height, grasping Bob's shirt collar and yanking him upwards until he was on his feet.

“Can I take these off?”

I inquired, raising my hand and lightly tapping the corners of Bob's eyeglass frames.

Bob nodded nervously with a tight smile, his hands fidgeting with his pants pockets.

“Sure. I’m near sighted so I’ll be okay.”

In his nervousness, Bob blurted out. I chuckled through a closed mouth, gently grabbing the frames and slowly removing them from his face.

I folded the sides closed and handed them to Hangman, who was still positioned on the floor, watching anxiously.

“Take care of those.”

Bob said to Hangman.

I refocused my gaze on Bob's soft eyes, gradually leaning into him. My open palms pressed against his clothed chest, which throbbed with every beat of his racing heart.

As my eyes fluttered closed, Bob's breathing became audible, the tip of my nose brushing against his. My hot breath against his earlobe made his body seize up, his limbs becoming taut with anxiety as I shifted my head until my mouth was level with his ear.

“Don’t be nervous baby, Hangman and I will walk you through it.”

I put on my best seductress voice as I rubbed my palms against his chest, feeling his pectorals ripple under my touch.

Bob nodded vigorously.

“Will you…”

As I placed a gentle kiss on his earlobe, his voice trailed off, his tone becoming breathy with desire.

“Tell me what you want me to do baby.”

Bob gulped, swallowing the large lump that had formed in his throat.

“Will you kiss me?”

I trailed my hand up his strong chest, cupping the back of his head. I trailed my lips along his jawline, placing hot kisses along his skin before reaching the corners of his mouth.

I gently pressed my lips against his while tangling my hand in his short hair, hoping to amp up the kiss. Bob's breath caught in his throat, a guttural moan erupting from the back of his throat as he kissed my lips hungrily.

“Touch her Bob. Use your hands.”

God, I almost forgot about Hangman.

Bob's hands gripped the sides of my hips awkwardly, slowly and hesitantly pulling me forward until our pelvises connected.

I inserted my tongue into Bob's mouth, passing it between his teeth until it met his own tongue. I took the initiative and demonstrated how to utilize his tongue to enhance a kiss. After a brief demonstration, he was kissing just as well, if not better than Hangman.

“Good job.”

I mumbled against his lips. The praise went directly to Bob’s crotch, and I began to feel the dent in his pants grow against the top of my thigh.

He whined against my open mouth as I gently rubbed my thigh against his semi hard cock, my throat swallowing his noises.

“You want more of her, don’t you Bob?”

Bob gulped.

“Yeah…”

His strong fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips as he whimpered hungrily against my lips.

“Why don’t you take her shirt off.”

Bob yanked his mouth from my face. With a bright red flush on his cheekbones, he looked utterly adorable. His eyes made nervous contact with mine as his heart continued to race beneath my palm, his breath bated.

Bob made no attempt to conceal his desire.

“Can I… Can I take your shirt off?”

He mumbled almost incoherently, blinking rapidly as his wet tongue trailed over his swollen bottom lip.

“Yes. Please do Bob.”

Bob kept an anxious eye on me as his soft palms yanked my shirt from the waistband of my Jean shorts. Bob dragged the fabric up, over my bra and over my head with trembling hands. He let it fall to the floor, his gaze unable to hold mine now that he had a clear view of me in my bra.

He was embarrassed to stare longingly at me and take in the view in front of him. So he kept jerking his gaze upwards to meet my eyes, only to have his head tilt downwards to stare dumbfounded at my chest.

“Take her bra off Bob, then take as long as you want to gawk as her tits.”

Hangman's voice was low and sultry. This situation provided him more arousal than he originally expected.

Bob hesitated, his hands gripping at the sides of his pants.

“Don’t be scared.”

I whispered sensually, gently taking one of his tense hands in mine and bringing it up to rest on my shoulder, his tender fingertips brushing over my bra strap.

Bob exhaled shakily, dragging the strap down my shoulder until it hung limply around my bicep. He repeated his actions with the other strap before bringing both of his hands behind my back. Bob wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing us together until our chests were flush. His racing heart beat against my clothed breasts and his heavy breaths bounced around my skull, clouding my thoughts until the only thing on my mind was Bob’s gentle touches.

He unhooked the band, and my bra fell to the ground in front of me with a soft thud. I stepped back, giving Bob a view of my now fully exposed breasts.

He stared longingly, his pupils blown with arousal as he nibbled on his bottom lip to release a bit of the nervous tension.

Bob shifted his stance, hoping to relive some of the aching pulsing inside his painfully hard cock.

I should feel uncomfortable. I was half naked in the presence of two men. But between my loving boyfriend and Bob’s innocent gaze, I felt… oddly comfortable.

“Touch them.”

Hangman demanded. Bob kept his gaze focused on my breasts, his hands gradually raising until they hovered inches over my skin. I assisted him, placing my hands over the back of his palms and pushing his hands forward until his soft fingers wrapped around my breasts. The heel of his palms brushed against my nipples, and they hardened quickly under his touch.

“Knead them.”

Bob took Hangman's instruction, pressing the heel of his palm more aggressively against my hardened nipples, tightening his fingertips before slowly releasing his grasp.

“Bob…”

I groaned, throwing my head back to show him how good his hands felt wrapped around my sensitive breasts.

“Harder, please.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

My fingernails dug into the back of Bob's palms as he squeezed harder.

“Yes… just like that, good job.”

I groaned, my eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure traveling straight to my core, wetness pooling inside my panties.

“Do you wanna eat her out Bob?”

“I-“

Bob’s voice broke off.

“I-I don’t know how to do that.”

He stuttered.

“Try it. I can show you if you’d like.”

Hangman was unable to hide his arousal, his tone dripping with lust. He didn't want to be on the sidelines any longer; he wanted to be in the thick of things.

“Why don’t you take off your shirt, Bob?”

Bob's hands froze and his breath caught in his throat. My eyes opened seductively, flashing Bob my desire-blown pupils.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

I asked, echoing Bob's earlier inquiry.

Bob gulped, his bottom lip trembling. He smacked his jaw shut, attempting to conceal his nervousness.

“Yes… please do.”

Bob’s tone was docile, his timid gaze unable to stay fixed in one position for long.

Well, he’d always be a sub, that’s for sure. But knowing how to pleasure his partner would greatly assist him in life.

I slowly unbuttoned the top button, threading the smooth plastic through the fabric's holes one by one until Bob's white undershirt was exposed. To avoid overwhelming Bob with intense eye contact, I kept my gaze fixed on his covered torso. He shook his shoulders, his shirt gliding down his arms, the fabric gently smacking against the floor. Even though a thin layer of clothing obscured the full extent of his glory, I could tell he had some mean muscles beneath his tank.

My hungry fingertips grasped the hem of his white fitted tank top and dragged it over his head, exposing his toned chest for my eyes to drink in.

My fingers spread across his pecs, my palms slowly dragging down his stomach, his abdomen clenching under my hot touch. My gaze followed the path of my hands, taking in his swole body until it was drawn to his shaggy happy trail. As my fingertips brushed across his lower abdomen, the veins that dipped below the waistband of his beige pants pulsed. The blood rushing to his cock as the tent in his pants grew even more prominent.

“Fuck Bob… your muscles are almost as good as Hangman’s.”

I said seductively while dragging my wet tongue along my lower lip.

Hangman grumbled.

“Come on Y/N. There’s no way in hell he looks better than me.”

I twisted my head to the side, rolling my eyes at Hangman.

“Notice how I said almost.”

I swung my head around to face Bob, who was smiling softly at the compliment. I winked with the eye that was the furthest away from Hangman, keeping Bob guessing as to who I thought looked better naked.

“Alright Robert…”

I pushed my hands further downwards until my grasp connected with his thick leather belt.

“You wanna go down on me now?”

I batted my eyes at him, staring longingly at him through my lashes. As he swallowed the rapidly growing pools of saliva collecting inside his mouth, Bob's Adam apple pulsed nervously.

“Y-yes.”

I backed up until my knees slammed against Bob's bed frame, launching me into a sitting position. “Lemme show you how it’s done Robert.”

Now it was Hangman's turn to join in on the action.

Hangman waved away a half-naked Bob Floyd and hunched over into a kneeling position. He tilted his head upwards to meet my gaze, a sly grin playing on the corners of his mouth.

“How are ya doing baby girl?”

Hangman inquired, popping my jean shorts open and gradually unzipping my fly.

“Amazing.”

“Good.”

Hangman snagged a finger in the waistband of both my shorts and panties, dragging them down my legs with ease. His intense gaze remained fixed on mine, heightening the excitement already coursing through my veins.

“Watch and learn Robert.”

Hangman's voice fell to a sultry whisper as he threw my knees over his shoulders, his face inching impossibly closer to where I craved him most. Jake kissed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs with hot, open mouthed kisses, leaving a wet trail of saliva in his wake.

The dull ache in my cunt had transformed into a throbbing, painful pinch reverberating throughout my body with every beat of my heart. Hangman would bring his mouth centimeters from my pulsing heat before dragging his tongue back along my thigh to restart the painful teasing process.

“Jake… please I’m aching for your mouth.”

My hand intertwined with the short strands of his bright blonde hair as I begged pathetically.

I leaned back, my opposite arm supporting my torso as I lazily bucked my hips forward to push Hangman towards my throbbing pussy.

“Make her beg for it Bob, don’t give her what she wants right away.”

I glanced down at Hangman, who looked absolutely stunning with his gorgeous face in between my thighs, his lips wet with his own saliva.

His plush mouth hovered over my wet pussy in anxious anticipation, waiting for me to speak before he gave me what he knew I was desperate for.

“Please… Jake I need your mouth, I need your tongue to make me cum.”

“That’s more like it.”

He said slyly before diving his face in between my thighs, maintaining fierce eye contact as he vigorously pleasured me with his warm mouth.

“Use your tongue Bob, keep trying different things until she’s showing you how good you make her feel.”

He mumbled instructions almost incoherently against my clit.

Hangman flicked the tip of his tongue agaisnt my clit in demonstration. I convulsed, my back arching as my hand tightened in Jake’s scalp. Hangman hollowed his cheeks to increase the suction as he sucked mercilessly on my swollen clit.

“Fuck… she’s soaking Bob, what the hell did you do?”

Hangman asked with a chuckle before returning his attention to my soaking cunt. He licked a long stripe from the base of my folds to my clit, drinking in my juices hungrily.

“I think it was mostly you Hangma-“

“Don’t sell yourself short buddy.”

Hangman pulled his lips off my pussy with a soft pop, pushing my knees off his strong shoulders as I groaned anxiously at the loss of pleasure.

“Why don’t we let Bob make you cum.”

Hangman comforted me by rubbing his calloused palms against the tops of my thighs. Although the close proximity of his thick fingers to my aching heat just heightened my desire for him.

Hangman stood, forcing me to release my death grip on his hair as he gradually rose to his feet. I utilized both my hands to hold my torso upwards as I was now eye level with the prominent tent in his pants. God, he was not making this teasing game any easier for me.

Hangman took a step backwards until he was completely engulfed by the shadows of Bob's bedroom.

“Robert…”

I said, refocusing my eyes on Bob while spreading my legs further to encourage him.

Bob was standing with both his hands placed over the incredibly obvious tent in his pants as if I hadn’t seen his painfully hard erection only moments before.

“Now it’s your turn.”

I said lightly, attempting to alleviate some of the tension in the room in order to make this situation more comfortable for Bob.

“Okay… I guess I’ll give it a shot.”

Bob shuffled across his carpet, kneeling directly in front of my spread legs, mirroring Hangman’s position. I tousled Bob's perfectly coiffed hair with my hand, attempting to reassure him.

Bob raised his head to meet my eyes. His gaze was unsure, but I could sense the veiled arousal beneath his soft eyes.

“Guide me please.”

I smiled at his desire to please.

“I will, don’t worry.”

Bob threw my knees over his bare shoulder, mirroring Hangman's exact position as he began placing gentle kisses along my inner thighs. Bob's mouth was much more reserved than Hangman's, but this was primarily due to his lack of confidence. His kisses were pecks as opposed to Hangman’s hot, wet, arousing kisses.

“Be confident Bob, you're doing great.”

I whispered reassuringly.

Bob shifted his hips, his erection becoming painful. He began spreading his lips along my sensitive inner thighs, his kisses slowly gaining passion.

I sighed, relishing the feeling of Bob’s hot breath fanning against my skin.

“Please Bob… please make me cum.”

Bob’s hands shook against my thighs, his nervousness now becoming prominent as we took the night a step further. He kept his gaze fixed on his actions, using all of his concentration to expertly plan out his moves.

Bob dragged his mouth against my hot skin, his lips now painfully close to my core.

“Bob… please, I want your mouth on my pussy.”

I gasped, the intense throbbing in my cunt reaching its peak. Bob placed his lips on my pussy, missing my clit by a centimeter.

I tugged his head upwards.

“Bring your head up just a lit-“

Bob raised his mouth, the suction being applied to my clit perfectly, the pleasure ending my sentence prematurely.

“Oh fuck…”

I threw my head back, tightening my grasp on Bob’s soft strands of hair. He flattened his tongue against multiple parts of my cunt before pressing firmly against my swollen bud.

“Bob. Jesus!”

Once he was locked in the rhythm, he was utterly unstoppable. Bob hungrily sucked at my clit, hollowing his cheeks while trying different methods to utilize his tongue.

The pulsing inside my pussy had gradually morphed into an intense pinch, indicating that my orgasm was just around the corner.

“Bob… that feels so fucking good. You’re such a good boy, such a good listener.”

Bob groaned against my clit, the vibrations involuntarily causing me to buck my hips desperately against his mouth.

“Use your fingers Bob, help her out a little.”

“I-I don’t-“

“Just try Robert, I’ll tell you what feels good.”

I thrusted Bob’s head back towards my core. He gasped before effortlessly slipping back into a rhythm. My eyes squeezed closed as I felt the tip of Robert’s pointer finger prod against my entrance.

My orgasm was close, but I needed a push. I needed Bob’s fingers to shove me over the edge into the senseless state of euphoria.

My fave relaxed, focusing on the sensations Bob provided me to provide him constructive criticism.

Bob slipped a finger into me, thrusting it forward and backwards.

“Add another finger.”

He thrusted a second sigit inside of my cunt, using my slick to lubricate his fingers.

“Curl them when they’re deep in me.”

Bob curled his thick fingers against my spongy walls. My limbs clenched at the spontaneity of his actions, my eyes rolling to the back of my head so far they could see my brain.

“Yes… that’s it. Good boy, Bob, keep going just like that.”

Bob glanced at me through his lashes, hoping for praise to reassure him that he was behaving appropriately. I ran my hand through his hair, noticing a few stray strands falling to rest against his brow.

“You’re doing so good… keep going just like that.”

Bob’s mouth and fingers suddenly became desperate, the desire to make me cum obscuring his brain. His eyes remained focused on me, watching as my face contorted into any natural expression as he flicked my clit with shocking expertise.

I was unable to moan. I could only gasp and buck my hips desperately against his face as the desire to cum became overwhelming. Every nerve ending was ablaze as Bob hungrily attacked my pussy, his confidence now high.

“You’re gonna make me cum… God, you’re such a good boy.”

My stomach was tight, uncomfortably tight.

“Make me cum Bob.”

I demanded. And with that, the pace of Bob’s fingers became superhuman as he drove me right over the edge.

The tension in my abdomen released, my neck fully exposed as I came. My cunt clenched desperately around Bob’s fingers as my back arched.

“Keep going… help me fully finish, but slow down.”

Bob slowed to a snail's pace, my orgasm now mellowing.

“Alright.”

I murmured, throwing my head forward to meet Bob’s soft eyes.

“That’s enough.”

Bob pulled away, the cool air hanging in the room clinging to my pussy. The chill was a stark contrast to Bob’s warm mouth, a chill running along my spine.

“Was… was I good?”

He murmured meekly, his gaze fixed on mine. Even after he made me come he still continued to seek praise. I released his hair, tenderly cupping his face and brushing the pad of my thumb against his cheekbone, smiling softly.

“You were excellent. You’re a great listener Robert.”

Bob smiled, his grin mirroring the goofy smile he gave me in the bar, when our conversation was purely casual. It warmed my heart to see him so comfortable with the idea of sex.

To think he was a complete virgin only hours ago.

“Wow… that was quite a show you guys.”

I glanced over at Hangman, who was sitting Indian style on the carpeted floor. His erection had somehow grown since the last time I had been face to face with his cock.

“You’re a little hard there, Jake.”

I joked. Hangman scoffed, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“It’s my turn to fuck my girlfriend.”

Hangman hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, not even trying to hide the fact he was anxious to fuck me. I returned my attention to Bob, delicately dragging my hand through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

“Watch Hangman. He’s done this a few times before.”

Bob scoffed, widening his smile to showcase his pearly whites.

“Alright.”

He agreed, shifting himself backwards until he was sitting a few feet away from me. I glanced back at Hangman, who was now fully naked.

Oh God, I swear everytime Hangman peels off his clothes I almost can’t believe he’s a real person and not some sort of Roman god.

He was tall, with a broad, muscular back and a well-defined chest. His abdomen was carved out of stone. And don’t even get me started on his cock. It was gloriously thick, with several veins that only became pronounced once he was thoroughly aroused. He was now fully hard, his swollen pink tip glistening with small beads of precum.

“Alright Y/N, let’s give Bob a show, shall we?”

I tore my eyes away from my boyfriend's perfectly sculpted cock.

“Let’s do it.”

I agreed, perhaps a little too eagerly. Hangman quickly shuffled to the side of the bed, crawling over my body. I was taken aback by his suddenness, our chests now flush together. Hangman hiked one of my legs up to his torso, utilizing my slickness to slide smoothly in between my folds.

“Ah!”

I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my nails into Hangman's muscular bicep. The pleasure of his cock stretching my walls slamming into me like a freight train.

“Fuck, Hangman! Warn a girl next time!”

Hangman glanced to his side where Bob was positioned on the floor, his eyes wide as he observed the scene.

“Don’t do that Bob. I’m just a little antsy tonight.”

Hangman buried his face in the crook of my neck, nibbling on my earlobe as he snapped his hips forward.

“Jake… fuck your so big.”

I praised him despite knowing I would most likely not cum, and Hangman would leave me with Bob to finish me off.

Not that I was complaining. Hell, Bob was a natural.

“You’re so tight, you take my cock so well.”

Hangman’s raspy chest voice buzzed inside my skull as I began to feel his thick cock twitching inside of me. The pulsing of his cock caused his tip to brush against my g spot, the coil inside my lower abdomen tightening rapidly.

“I’m gonna cum baby.”

“Me too.”

“Don’t cum. Save it.”

I groaned, slamming the back of my head against the pillows on Bob’s bed.

“Don’t worry baby girl, Bob’ll make you feel real good.”

I bit my bottom lip, nearly drawing blood as I tried desperately not to cum all over Hangman's throbbing cock.

“You have such a good pussy, so nice and tight.”

“Hangman if you keep speaking I’m gonna cum.”

Hangman shut up, his chest heaving with desire, his heavy breaths echoing inside my brain.

With one more brutal thrust, and one more twitch of his cock, he painted my walls with his hot cum. Hangman pulled out the moment he found his release, leaving me empty and unsatisfied.

“Ugh. If Bob wasn’t here I’d be pissed at your sorry ass.”

Hangman chuckled and began to redress, exposing his muscular back to me as he yanked his boxers up his thick thighs. Bob and I kept a close eye on him, waiting for him to give us a command. Hangman could feel both pairs of eyes burning into his bare back.

“Well don’t wait for me, get on with the show!”

Hangman's deep voice echoed throughout the small room, jolting Bob and me out of our stupors. I averted my gaze from Hangman's broad back to take in Bob positioned timidly on the floor.

“Well… that was grossly underwhelming, definitely not one of Hangman's five star performances.

“It’s Bob’s night Y/N! Don’t be selfish!”

I rolled my eyes.

“Wanna help finish me off?”

I inquired, suggestively wiggling my eyebrows. Bob nodded vigorously, his hands anxiously fidgeting with his tight pants.

“Yes, I would.”

Bob stood to his full height.

“You should take off your pants.”

I braced myself on both elbows, giving my eyes the ideal angle to watch Bob strip.

“Okay.”

Bob's hands shook as he nervously undid his belt buckle, a task that took far longer than expected. With a satisfying whoosh, he yanked the belt from the loops. Bob unbuttoned his pants, eagerly pulling both his pants and his boxers down his legs to expose his painfully hard cock.

My eyes widened.

“Wow Robert…”

His large hands should've given me a hint.

His cock was already twitching and he hadn’t even been inside of me yet, the beads of precum slowly dripping down his long shaft.

I tore my eyes away from Bob’s cock as to not overwhelm him with my intense gaze.

“Come here.”

I said firmly as I watched Bob shuffle timidly towards the edge of the bed. As he approached, I laid back and stared blankly at the ceiling, pretending my heart wasn't racing with excitement.

Bob swung a leg over my body, settling between my thighs. I locked eyes with Bob, making sure to keep my stare soft in order to comply with his tender gaze.

“Don’t worry about me Bob, I’ll speak up if you’re doing anything wrong.”

Bob pursed his lips into a firm smile and nodded slowly and deliberately. I threw my arms lazily around his wide shoulders, spreading my legs further to allow him easy access to my core.

“I’ll just…”

His voice trailed off as he glanced downwards to the space in between our bodies.

“Go really slow… if-if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me.”

“Okay…”

Bob murmured under his breath, extending a hand downwards to wrap around his shaft. He brought it towards my entrance, my eyes fluttering shut as his swollen tip gently brushed against my clit.

He rolled his hips forward, his tip piercing my entrance.

Bob’s head collapsed against my shoulder with a strained gasp, his entire body trembling with sudden overstimulation. He pushed himself farther into me until his cock was about halfway inside.

Fortunately, I was stretched out from my previous ordeal with Hangman. So I could devote all of my energy to remaining calm and collected for Bob.

Bob’s breathing was shaky, his diaphragm trembling as he explored new territory.

“Bob… take your time.”

I whispered softly, rubbing a comforting hand along the smooth plane of his back.

“No… it’s just…”

Bob gulped, his voice shaking from overstimulation.

“It feels really good.”

He lazily rolled his hips forward, pushing his cock forward until he was balls deep inside of me. I hooked my legs onto his waist, assisting the beginning of his rhythm as much as I possibly could.

“Go slow.”

I realized against the bed, allowing Bob to use my body to familizarize himself with sex. Bob pulled out, jerkingly shoving his length back inside of my wet cunt.

“Find a rhythm Bob, roll your hips.”

Hangman chimes in.

Bob’s chest was pressed flush against mine, the hurried vibrations of his strong heart rattling my insides.

“Take a deep breath.”

Bob inhaled, fighting against his tense diaphragm. He held it, before releasing a smooth and even breath.

“Better?”

“Better.”

“Okay, now fuck me please.”

Bob chuckled nervously, beginning a more fluid rhythm with his hips. He was now calm, completely in the zone.

“Can you go faster Bob?”

I asked, slowly losing my rationality as Bob’s thick cock pumped inside of me.

“Yes. I-I think I can.”

Bob gulped, quickening his pace, his balls smacking against my wet cunt and producing an almost pornographic sound.

“S-snap your hips forwards.”

My voice droned off, arching my back until my front pressed against Bob’s strong chest. He pulled back before quickly snapping his hips forward. Now, he was finally putting those well defined muscles to good use.

“That’s good Bob… really fucking good.”

The praise traveled straight to his cock, his length twitching inside of me.

“Harder, please.”

I begged, Bob’s cock making me dizzy as the blood rushed to my cunt.

My legs were doing nothing except resting comfortably around his muscular waist, Bob had taken complete control of the situation.

Bob went harder, his tip now slamming into my g spot with every brutal thrust. I threw my head backwards against the soft pillows, gasping incoherently as my lower abdomen clenched with pleasure.

“Like that Bob, just like that. Fuck, keep going.”

I pulled Bob impossibly closer to me, whimpering and knitting my brow as Bob’s cock twitched uncontrollably inside of me. His chest heaved as he struggled to fill his lungs.

“Look at her Bob, watch her as she cums.”

Bob pulled back shakily, connecting our eyes as he wrestled to maintain his vigorous rhythm.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

I agreed, far too quickly.

“Good… you-you feel really good.”

God, Bob wasn’t lasting much longer. His voice was completly fucked out and his knees were trembling as he struggled to maintain composure, a thin layer of sweat forming on his brow. Then again, I wasn't far behind him.

“Bob… don’t strain yourself… cum if you need to.”

“But I don-“

“Don’t worry… you’re fucking me so good I’ll be right behind you.”

Bob furrowed his brow, using the last bit of his energy to focus on the last few pleasure filled thrusts.

His hot breath fanned across my face, the tips of our noses brushing against each other as Bobs cock brutually attacked my pussy.

“Y/N…”

Bob’s voice trailed off. I allowed any expression to wash over my face as the last brutal thrust of Bob’s thick cock sent me straight into a state of undisturbed nirvana.

I convulsed, uttering Bob’s name as my pussy clenched around his thick shaft.

Bob came right after me, his sticky cum painting my walls as his body fell limp against my hot torso, My tight cunt milking the last of Bob’s orgasm.

My brain was hazy, my gaze clouded as I suddenly felt very loose, my muscles spontaneously relaxing.

I glanced over at Hangman, who was slurping the last of his beer.

“You okay Bob?”

I gently traced the planes of his back with my fingernails.

“Y'know. I-I didn’t think I’d end the night… not a virgin.”

Bob chuckled against my neck.

“I didn’t know you started the night a virgin.”

Hangman said from afar.

We all laughed together, enjoying the now-light atmosphere. Hangman smacked his thighs and sighed deeply, signaling the end of the night.

“Well… enjoy not being celibate Bob.

[4dtk]

hi i would love to if you could write a story with jaehyun where he gives y/n a massage and then fucks y/n

long. enjoy, 1.8k baby. dont think i'll give this one a name either LOL

warnings: fingering, doggy, reverse cowgirl, breeding kink

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!

“hey. how was work?” you were often the culprit of jaehyun’s questions when your foot first lands in your apartment, toeing off your shoes with ease as he welcomes you with a peck to your cheek. he holds your waist loosely while you massage your ankles and toes, glad for a breath of fresh air even if they were hidden behind socks.

jaehyun drags you into the living room before you can speak, manspreading like he’s done it a hundred time before and pats his thighs. it makes you smile and raise an eyebrow. settling in front of him felt good, although he yanks you back onto his chest a little enthusiastically than usual that you let out a squeal. you just pass it off that he’s happy to see you after a day of doing nothing.

in a way, he has done it a hundred times. it was routine at this point, where you’d just sit against his back and lay against him, sometimes tilting your head back to admire his side profile. you’d talk about co-workers, your lunch, your overbearing tasks, all while jaehyun gently massages your sides with alternating hands, always sure to apply a fair amount of pressure to ease out your nerves.

he laughs into your neck at your reaction, but other than that, he remains quiet as you start on your rant, gesturing widely to this one annoying colleague that’s been getting on your nerves for the past few weeks. always talking over you for the tasks assigned to you, dropping badly-timed statements that definitely could be defined as a backhanded compliment; you could go on and on about the co-worker that you don’t notice jaehyun’s hands retreating from your waist to push you away from his body, travelling up your back instead.

they slowly feel up your back like an experienced masseuse, testing the waters with his thumb in a particularly deep dig in between your shoulder blades. it makes you gasp, the rant about how the same co-worker had accidentally interrupted by your sound of surprise. it’s the exhale of breath, however, that resembled something dangerously close to a whimper and you hope to god that jaehyun doesn’t hear it.

“you gotta relax for me, baby,” jaehyun grunts, continuing to sort out the kinks and aches in your back, no doubt brought about by your bad posture. at least if you were working from home, jaehyun would be able to provide you with hourly reminders to stretch out your back. ah, well, this would have to suffice.

jaehyun was talented with his hands, portraying his efficiency in relaxing the tension in your back with how intimately they moved from one area to another. another crack resonates throughout the room, making you moan out at the released tightness.

jaehyun loses his grip on sanity each time his knuckle, thumbs, fingers meet every inch of your back, eliciting countless other sounds that went south with how lewd they sounded. when you whimper again, he sighs with a little praise of good girl, breath tickling your ear lightly that it causes you to giggle. you’re at ease now, leaning back before he seemingly massages out the last ache in your back.

“you’re a bothersome little minx, aren’t you?” the other smirks against your neck, another giggle escaping your lips when you feel his hand prying your thighs apart. “well, thank fucking god you wore a skirt today.”

jaehyun’s smirk stretches into a grin when he feels how there’s a wet patch on your underwear from the suggestive session where you could feel his hardening erection against your bum. it played out like a bad sex scene from a movie, but you couldn’t complain when you were the stars of the show, able to feeling jaehyun’s fingers on your hips, on your thighs. he drags a finger to your centre painfully slow that you thrash gently against his hold, but it only makes him reinforce the secure arm he has around you. “patience, angel.”

“sorry, hun, but your massages are always so good. i still wonder why we didn’t do this earlier.”

“then… let’s change up our tradition a little, huh?” he purrs, panties already to the side before jaehyun slips a sneaky finger in. your hole sucks him in so easily that a groan is heard, possibly from the both of you. you’re not even sure any more, body overtaken by pleasure as he adds a second finger. you’re so wet that it’s no trouble for the man, who marvels over your shoulder at how good you’re taking his digits.

“haah… j-jae…” he chuckles against your shoulder, eyes never leaving how he’s pumping his fingers into you. they stretch you out so good and you can barely manage words, reduced to nothing but breathy moans and whines while he fucks you open. you mewl on a sudden hard thrust where his fingers are so deep that it’s up to his knuckle. he laughs again.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” jaehyun murmurs, “but i don’t think i can hold it in any longer.” the emptiness you feel when he removes his fingers was criminal, but you can’t complain when you’d be getting his cock in a second or two, already eyeing the bulge that showed itself through his sweatpants. your mouth drops open when he pulls it down in one swift pull, not so much for his length but more of the fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“of course you aren’t wearing boxers. you’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

“caught red-handed. a smart one, aren’t you?” jaehyun speaks through pants while he lubes up his cock with his pre-cum, boring holes into your eyes with his with a lazy smirk. he doesn’t miss the way you’re rubbing circles onto your neglected cunt. “guess i’d just have to fuck the smart out of you.”

he uses his strength to turn you over, smushing your face into the cushions below you before he eases himself into you, groaning at how fast you clench around him. jaehyun can forgive you for that, since he’s left you on edge with a gaping hole that showed how good his fingers could stretch you out. he reaches a hand over to push your hand from your clit gently while he lets you get used to his thick length resting into you and he swears he feels you clench again when his fingers play with your bundle of nerves.

“let me take care of you tonight. leave it to me.” jaehyun snaps his hips against your ass, propelling you forward just a little from the force. it draws out a slurred moan, even more when he starts his assault on your pussy, sliding in and out of you deliciously.

“mmhm uh- uh- jaeee…!” the fabric below you is stained with your drool.

jaehyun’s already sure you’d get a noise complaint filed against you tomorrow morning, but he can’t care much when the sounds falling from your lips are his favourite song, while his name is like a prayer that you recite every night. tonight just so happened to be the first, with many more sessions involving your begging for him to fuck you harder, faster, deeper. you’re so fucking desperate for his cock when you push back onto him, meeting his thrusts with your own rhythm while the cushions soak up your moans.

eyeing the tv for a second, the male has never felt so glad that he’s set the screensaver to be a boring black screen. it mimics a mirror with the exception of a few blurred visuals due to the semi-matte protector you opted for. “w-wha? jae-“ in a second, jaehyun hauls you up to rest against his chest again, the friction of your shirts uncomfortable from the sweat that manages to seep through. none of you pay much attention, rather to the black screen in front of you that shows how pliant you are for jaehyun.

thighs wide open, while your greedy cunt takes in every inch of jaehyun. it makes him cum right then and there but he holds himself bask the best that he can. “look at you, pretty girl. split open by my fat cock, whining like a good little girl.” the words drives heat up your body like electricity and your body can’t deny itself any longer, grinding down on the length that’s buried deep in you; the sight in front of you only turns you on more. jaehyun is true to his word like a gentleman, driving his dick deep into you instead of making you do the work and soon, he settles into a comfortable pace.

“j-jaehyuuun… shit..” your head finds home on his shoulders, thrown back while his hips continue to piston into you endlessly, heeding your word when you ask him to pick up the pace. “yeah? feel good, darling?” your moans and his combine with the loud, pornographic sounds coming from in between your legs, cunt dripping with arousal with every pump of his pelvis. giddily, you nod at the question, hands tightly wrapped around his arms that were holding your legs open.

“look at the screen, pretty girl.” and you do, mewling in excitement when you witness a white ring of cum at the base of his cock. “should i cum in you? would you like that, hm?” you’re rendered speechless by he fills you up to the brim with his hard thrusts, pussy fluttering around him when you think of him filling you up in another way and you nod again like a dumb little bitch.

“yes- yes yes! fuck, cum in me.” with your confirmation, it unleashes something feral in jaehyun, delivering faster thrusts that you start crying out, reaching all the corners of the small apartment. it contributes to the heat growing in the pit of your stomach, “fill me up, p-please…!” jaehyun emits a deep groan when you say the words, snapping up into you until they get sloppier and messier, thighs tired from his constant movements.

“cumming, cumming, cumming!” you announce it, pussy clenching tight around his cock as you release your juices all over it. jaehyun follows quickly after, hips stuttering before pumping you full of his cum, spurting his seed deep into your womb. the feeling has you shaking, licking your lips in a thrill when the first drop of cum oozes out of you. littering small kisses down the length of your neck, he uses his finger to stuff it back into you. “shit… we can’t waste any of it, can we?” you roll your eyes, turning your head to the side to meet his lips with a smile, silently thanking him for the destress.

-

“fucking hell, seriously?” holding a piece of paper the next morning, you faintly make out the words through the morning vision. jaehyun looks over your shoulder and lets out a loud laugh, barely escaping your poorly aimed smacks as you figure out how to sort out the noise complaint. “your pussy was just too wet, waking up the whole building-“

“jaehyun!”

[noenvyy]

Dark Humor: Things I find unintentionally funny about Pete’s kidnapping in KinnPorsche

Okay I really hope this post doesn’t offend anyone, that is not my intention, I know Pete’s kidnapping is hella traumatic and complicated and such but like the way the directors choose to frame it sometimes! 

I swear, you end up with a lot of unintentionally funny parts that just make the whole thing so much more messed up than it is! I just can’t! 

Here they are, the three things that make me laugh and feel like I’m going to hell because of it. 

#1: Kinn and Porsche just STRAIGHT up forget about Pete

Like wtf guys?? Okay so on the one hand, this is kind of like deeply sad considering how loyal Pete’s been the entire time. But literally the way it’s presented to the viewer is like this....

And it keeps GOING! I swear throughout the whole of the next episode there are constant switches between scenes of Pete getting tortured... 

And our main gays just like fucking honeymooning and shit! Like, just look at this----

What the hell??

Ugh. You goddamn homosexuals. Who am I kidding, I’m so fucking happy for you guys. 

#2: The whole ridiculous hedgehog sequence when we literally see Pete’s Stockholm Syndrome Activate

No words honestly the scene speaks for itself...

I mean by the end of this evening even Vegas is like----

#3: Hostage Salad

Okay this is the one that I just CAN’T get over.  So like we had a very scary food moment with Vegas earlier in the episode...

So when he shows up again and brings up the subject of food we’re kind of on edge . Like are we going all Audition again? Is it another dog food bowl??..

But then like, Pete like glances to the side at what Vegas has brought him and it’s like...

A salad?? A fucking salad?? That’s so god damned WEIRD! Like out of all the foods you could bring your little hostage boy toy you whip him up a salad! What kind of monster------

*deep breath* oohhhh I’m dead. At least he gets noodles later. 

[mercurygguk]

winter soldier | jjk

genre; winter soldier/avengers au, angst/smut/fluff

pairing; winter soldier!jungkook x avenger!female reader

summary; the love of your life died during ww2, they honored his death. you had never imagined you’d ever see him again until you’d join him in death, but here he is and he’s trying to kill you. he’s not himself at all. you, however, insist that the man you used to know is still in there somewhere.

word count; 6,764

warnings; descriptions of war/battle/fight scenes, descriptions of scars, the rest of the avengers joins the party, reader is like Cap A but not like Cap A, you know??, jungkook looking hella hot with his long hair and steel arm, inspiration from ‘captain america: winter soldier’, swearing, SMUT; explicit sexual activities, oral (f. receiving), love making at its highest- nothing kinky, just plain ol’ sex

a/n; okay so um, i’m binge-watching the avengers movies atm and i was watching Captain America: Winter Soldier. i kid you not, throughout the entire movie i was imagining what jungkook would look like as the winter soldier- jungkook combined with superheroes is like the perfect story, amirite?? ;)) enjoy!

ps. once again, i didn’t proof read so ignore my possible mistakes lol

(for reference, this is what jungkook’s hair looks like in this fic)

War.

Terrorizing. Horrifying. Absolutely petrifying.

There are several words to use when talking about it, describing it, reliving it. Once you’ve experienced it, it will haunt you till the day you die and even beyond that. There isn’t much positive to take from it, not many positive memories come to you as you think back to the time during war. Only one positive memory returns to you from those dark times...

Him.

Him who did not fit in with the military services due to his lack of strength and speed. Him who never let anyone step upon him and evolved with the job. Him who never backed down from a challenge or an order given from the highest ranks. Him who had braveness unlike anyone, loyalty like no other, a will to fight for what’s worth it and to win. Him who made you fall for him without meaning to. Him who promised he would always come back to you, no matter what happened.

And then one day he didn’t. They had told you he went down in the fight, died for his country, for his team. He hadn’t hesitated to sacrifice himself, thrown himself towards the threat in the hopes of ending it for everyone once and for all. That he did. He killed himself in the process of saving everyone else.

A hero is what they had called him. Honored his name, saluting as they all stood facing his military photograph, serious faces and emotionless eyes all over. Tears had filled your eyes that day, but they didn't fall. You refused to let them. There was no way you would cry because of a liar. A coward, really. Anger kept you going, anger aimed at him. A rage so intense that you would convince yourself that you hated him. Some people would call you selfish, selfish for hating a man who sacrificed himself for everyone else. They were right. You were selfish. But love makes you selfish, and you loved him. So ridiculously much.

Years later, decades into the new century he remains as a positive yet heartbreaking and frustrating memory in your mind and heart. You haven’t aged a day thanks to the advanced technology and the project you offered to be the experiment of, in the end of the war. After his death and the war seeming more out of control than ever, you thought there wasn’t much more to live for, so you volunteered. A successful masterpiece, professor Kim had said as you regained consciousness on the lab table. You were his greatest, most succeeded experiment. You still are, except for the fact that Kim Namjoon is no longer walking among people on earth.

Now you’re living as the successful masterpiece he has created. Stronger, faster – young too even though your real age is something near 98. It doesn’t show. You look like any other 23-year-old but with extraordinary strength and speed. Being a part of a team as the Avengers truly has given you a meaning of life, a purpose that you didn’t feel you had before joining this outstanding team of superheroes as some would call you.

But as you stand here, in the middle of a battlefield that is scarily similar to those back in the 1940’s, you feel small. Gunshots fire around you, flying past your head and ringing in your ears. Explosions going off from the shots fired by Stark, Iron Man as he’s known as. The grounds breaking from the power of Thor’s hammer, the bad guys falling like flies in the hands of Widow. You’re watching it all unfold, breathing for a split second as robots are charging at you with red, glowing eyes.

For God’s sake, just how many of these are there?

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes in pure annoyance, you set off running towards them with an unmatched speed, fists up and ready to take them out. One goes down after another, surrendering to your very angry, very powerful fists. Your patience is running thin as the robots keep appearing from left and right, setting their focus on you as demanded by whoever’s controlling them. A person you haven’t managed to find yet, but determined to hunt down and put a bullet through their head.

“Hey, Thor!” You call out to the nordic God flying around you, punching fists through robots and throwing his hammer at them. He glances your way, finding you surrounded by robots, too many for you to fight by yourself. “A lil hand here?”

He nods in response, immediately dropping to the ground and plunging his hammer into the asphalt on the ground, lightning seeping through the ground and into the robots, taking them down and splitting them in half. Thor throws a smug smirk at you before turning back around to fight another round of robots. You roll your eyes, about to run off when shots are being fired at you.

“Shit!” You hiss, running to hide behind a tipped-over truck while fishing out a gun from the strap around your thigh. You lean out, aiming in the direction of the shots. There is a man with long, dark hair, a black mask covering half his face and a silver arm that does not look familiar at all. The mysterious man steps onto the railing of the bridge he fired shots from, hard glare focused on you as he steps out and lets himself fall to the ground beneath the bridge. He lands on his feet, supporting himself with the silver fist into the asphalt. He stands to his height, walking straight towards you and leaving a mark in the asphalt where he had landed. Your eyes widen as he holds up a machine gun, opening fire at you as you scramble to run off while loading more shots into your gun.

Peeking around the corner of the brick building you’re hiding behind, you hold your gun up to aim at him. You fire a bullet, hitting his silver arm. He doesn’t budge, the bullet not even leaving a bump in the silver.

“What the-” you gape, firing shots again. He holds his silver hand up, the bullets bouncing off like they’re made of cotton, still walking towards you with eyes focused on you. There’s something about him that seems familiar – maybe his build? Or the way he walks? Or was it the slightly curly hair on top of his head? You can’t quite pin it as you watch him get closer, fists clenched tightly at his sides as if he’s ready to throw punches at you. You contemplate running to him, throwing the first punch at him before he gets to you. There is a slight hesitancy in your body as you can’t shake off how awfully familiar he seems the closer he gets to you. Knowing what the right thing to do is, you step out from your hiding spot, collecting all strength as you charge at him. A yell of anger and confusion rumbles from your chest as you jump on the last step, fist pulled back only for it to be forced forward and into the center of the mysterious man’s chest.

He stumbles back slightly, gaining his balance quickly before he steps closer, throwing a punch at you as well. You dodge, throwing your leg into his side in a strong kick. He grunts as he catches your leg, pulling on it to force you towards him. You ram into him, his clenched fist connecting with your jaw. You groan in pain as you fall to the ground, landing before his feet. Squinting at him, you watch as he kneels down over you, holding you down against the ground. As he stares at you, raising his hand to deliver a punch to your face again, you realize it as your eyes meet his. You gasp softly, not believing the sight in front of you. It’s a known fact that you would recognize those deep, brown eyes anywhere in any given moment.

“J-Jungkook?”

The sound of your voice, the sound of his name falling from your lips has him freezing for a split second. His eyes shift between yours as he slowly begins to sink his fist. But not even seconds later he’s raising his fist again and that’s when you can tell that he does not recognize you. He is looking at you as if you’re a complete stranger, like he didn’t spend the last year of his life telling you that he loved you more than life itself.

His gaze fills with the only feeling he feels, hatred. He moves to force his silver fist down and into your face, a face he used to call beautiful as he traced his finger tips along the edges. You barely dodge it, trying your very best to meet his eyes again as you call his name.

“Jungkook!” You fight the tears that are brimming your eyes as you continue to dodge his hits the best you can, “Hey! It’s me!”

He’s not holding off, continuing to throw punches at you and hitting the asphalt as you squirm in between his thighs. He’s impeccably strong, the asphalt cracking under the jabs of his fists. His thighs are keeping you in place as he pins you to the ground, your arms locked along your sides. You know he’ll punch you to death if you don’t get inside his head. It seems nearly impossible as his eyes are trained on you, emotionless and angry, only a small glimt of the man you used to know in them.

“____! Might wanna duck down a bit,” Tony shouts as he flies in your direction, his glowing hand aimed at Jungkook.

Your eyes widen in horror as you scramble together all the strength you have, throwing Jungkook off you and away from the deathly ray of light coming from Tony’s palm.

“No!”

The shot hits the asphalt a few meters away from you, nearly grazing Jungkook but it doesn’t, thankfully. Tony is shocked as he comes to a halt in the air, staring between Jungkook and you. You wave a hand at him. “I got him,” you assure him as you pant out breaths of air, nodding towards Widow and Thor, “go help the others.”

The man in the iron suit in front of you seems to hesitate for a second as he looks at you. He catches the pleading look on your face, glancing back at Jungkook for a moment before nodding at you once and flying in the direction of Widow and Thor, aiming his shots at the robots that are still coming from all sides. You turn your attention back to Jungkook, the body of the love of your life but not the eyes or mind of him.

“Jungkook,” you try again, slowly stepping closer as he stays still, slightly shocked that you had saved him from Iron Man’s deadly shot, “it’s me, ____.”

You’re begging, tone pleading him and hands up in surrender as you slowly step closer to him. He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His eyes are dark, cold and distant as you get even closer. He’s frozen in his spot. He seems confused behind that hard expression, confused because you look less terrified than you did before realizing who he is. He doesn’t flinch or move away from your hand as it inches closer to his face, reaching for the black mask on his face.

“Hey,” you softly say, hesitating to touch him as you let a single tear escape and roll down your cheek. Something flashes in his eyes as he looks into your wet eyes, a small hint of recognition, familiarity too. Maybe he remembers. You hope he does. He lets you pull the black mask off completely, the strong line of his jaw appearing in front of you as well as his pink lips you used to kiss so often in that hidden place you liked to meet almost every night. “It’s me,” you whisper, “it’s ____.”

You’re afraid you’re imagining things as tears build up in the corner of his eyes, his jaw tightening. It’s too much for him. The memories returning with full force, the emotions filling his chest and warming it for the first time in 70 years. He wants to cry. He doesn’t know whether it's happiness because you’re right here in front of him, after he thought he would never get to see you again as he took his last breath back in 1944, or sadness because he’s well aware that he almost killed you if you hadn’t pushed him off you.

“____?” His voice betrays him as it cracks, your name coming out in a croaked voice. More tears escape as you hear your name falling from his lips for the first time since that morning in the military camp where he said ‘see you soon’ and then never returned. He freezes as you throw yourself at him, arms wrapped around him as you pull him closer in a tight hug. The sniffles and muffled cries you let out breaks his emotionless, cold heart and filling it with a warmth he hasn’t felt in so long. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye as he lets his own arms snake their way around your waist, hugging you just as tight as you hug him.

Relief.

That’s what he’s feeling.

Jungkook wanders around inside Stark’s office, eyes exploring things as he calmly runs his silver hand over them. You watch him from a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest. Worry is filling your entire body as his back is turned to you. He still doesn’t seem like himself. There is something about him that makes you anxious, something about him makes you wonder if he’ll turn at any moment, falling back into whatever sort of amnesia he has been experiencing for the past decades.

You jump in surprise when the door opens beside you, revealing Tony. He notices your jumbled state, giving you a small, half smile. You turn your eyes back to Jungkook who’s picking at an ancient-looking sculpture on Tony’s desk causing Tony to take a step closer.

“Hey! Buddy!” He calls out, catching Jungkook’s attention. “Don’t touch that, please. It’s antique.”

Jungkook steps away from the desk, hands up in mock surrender, emptiness in his eyes as if he couldn’t care less about Tony’s antique sculpture. No one really cared about that sculpture. It’s doomed to break at some point when it’s placed in his office, in the Avengers building.

“Tony,” you catch the attention of the older man, looking straight at him with hopeful, desperate eyes, “can you help him?”

He turns to face Jungkook, looking him over from head to toe. “Friday, give me a scan of whatever’s controlling Jungkook.”

Anticipated, you wait while biting a nail. Jungkook doesn’t move an inch as Friday scans him for anything to help Tony figure out a way to help. He’s glancing from Tony to you, his eyes meeting yours. Seconds. It takes seconds from his stare meeting yours to something flicking behind his dark brown irises, something inside of him snapping like the tips of someone’s fingers. Your eyes widen in panic as you move to stand between Tony and Jungkook.

“Tony!” You shout, moving fast as you try to get in between the two men. Tony has already activated his iron hand, catching Jungkook’s silver fist right before it hits him square in the face. You come to a halt, staring in surprise as Tony tightens his hold on Jungkook’s fist, forcing him to the ground. “Tony, please, don’t hurt him. He’s not in his right mind!”

“Oh, really?” Tony scoffs, sarcasm dripping from each word. A small yelp leaves your mouth as Tony kicks his knee up under Jungkook’s jaw, knocking him out. Jungkook falls limp to the floor, eyes closed as he’s kicked unconscious by Tony. You kneel down beside him, brushing his long strands of hair out of his face. He looks peaceful as he lays there, completely unconscious, and yet there’s a furrowed look on his face, like he’s never free from whatever that is controlling him. You sigh deeply, head dropping as you cradle Jungkook’s hand in your own. Tony’s palm rests on your shoulder. You glance up at him. He gives you a small, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll help him,” he tells you. You nod, knowing he spoke the truth.

“Thank you.”

The frustrated look and furrowed eyebrows are gone. He looks genuinely peaceful this time, long lashes resting on the top of his cheeks as he rests beneath the sheets on your bed. You can’t help yourself as you reach out, palm cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone in a soft caress. Hopefully you’ll have the love of your life back once he wakes up from the deep sleep Tony put him in.

You’re about to move away, retrieving your hand from his cheek just as you hear him whimper softly. Turning back to him, you watch as his lower lip begins to quiver, eyebrows furrowed tightly together. “No,” he whimpers again, head shaking in his sleep. “Please, no! Don’t!”

Worry fills you once again as you sit on the edge of the bed beside him, hands cupping his face between them. “Jungkook,” you softly call, trying your best to wake him without startling him. “Jungkook, my love, please wake up. Please!”

Startled, you gasp as his eyes shoot open, his lips parting as he gasps for air. He’s looking right into your startled, widened eyes. It takes a minute for him to realize who you are and where he is, the surroundings not seeming familiar at all, but it feels nice. The aura, the warmth and the dimmed lighting in the bedroom where he’s tucked under the sheets.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you smile, not sure what to say to him. Tony had made sure to help him, get whatever that was controlling him out of him, his head to himself now and slowly filling with memories, both good and bad ones. “How are you feeling?”

He groans as he moves to sit up. You help him straighten up, making sure he has a pillow for his back as he leans back against the head of the bed. He closes his eyes tightly together as he drops his head back, still trying to calm his erratic breathing. You sit back in the chair you had pulled to the bedside when you got here.

“I feel…” he begins, words feeling foreign on his tongue as he speaks with a croaking voice. He sighs deeply. This is a lot for his head to take in in just one day. “I feel like my head is about to explode.”

Your smile is careful as you look at him. “Makes sense,” you softly say, watching him glance at his arm only to notice the silver is still there, like he had hoped it would be gone. It’s easy to tell the arm itself is a symbol of a very dark time as he looks at it and then looks away from it. He isn’t fond of the silver arm, obviously having a love-hate relationship with it as it has given him power and strength he never had to begin with and problems he never voluntarily wanted in the first place. There’s pain in his eyes as he glances at you, shame as he cowers under your gaze.

You frown deeply. “What happened to you?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. He closes his eyes, not really wishing to go back to those dark times where his life was saved and changed for the worse. The dark times where he became a shadow of himself and a manipulated soldier, brainwashed to take orders from others.

“I, uh, I don’t think-“ he stumbles over his words.

You place your hand over his actual hand, your thumb brushing the skin there. He glances at where you’re touching him before looking up at you. You’re hurting, it’s easy to see. It’s not your own pain though, it’s his. You’re feeling pain for him, hurting because he went through things he never should have, things where death would’ve been much less painful. You want to kiss him, kiss it all better if that was possible.

“You can tell me,” you whisper, pleading him to confide in you, to tell you what happened to him all those years ago.

He sighs deeply, turning his hand over to wrap it around yours. A rush runs through your stomach as he grips onto your hand with a hold so tight that you find yourself promising him silently that you’ll never let go again by giving his hand a small squeeze.

“They found me a few days later,” he starts, gaze focusing on the way yours and his fingers intertwine with each other like they’re meant to do it, “in the ruins of buildings. I-I wasn’t fully awake when they did, only just coming to my senses again after the explosion that was meant to kill me.”

You’re focusing on his hand in yours now, not able to look into his eyes as he tells the story of how he ended up here, 70 years later, and still looking like himself but with longer hair and impeccable strength.

“I didn’t recognize them. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They took me to this place, a bunker or something like that. There was this huge laboratory inside with equipment way ahead of its time,” he looks confused as he relives the horrifying moments, “I was placed in a chair and the next thing I know they’re sawing my arm off-“

You whimper. “Oh, god,” tears dwell in your eyes as you grip his hand tightly.

“____, I have never felt as much pain as I did that day,” he looks you straight in the eye, the pain from that day flashing over his face as he recalls it, the feeling of it. “And all I could think about while they turned me into this- this monster… was that I lied to you.”

You shake your head in denial. “No, Jungkook,” you whisper, “you couldn’t know. You couldn’t.”

He offers you a small half-smile, remorse covering his features as he reaches up with his silver hand, careful as he lets the fingertips of it brush your hair out of your face.

“I’m sorry I gave you an empty promise,” he whispers, silver fingertips brushing against the side of your face. You cover it with your own hand, letting him cup your face in the cold silver. He leans closer, hissing lightly as pain shoots up the side of his torso. “I’m sorry that I didn’t come back to you like I promised.”

“You did though,” you sigh deeply, resting your forehead against his. “You’re right here.”

He nods softly, his eyes shifting between yours.. “and I won’t leave again,” he assures you before hesitating, shrugging as he adds; “unless you want me to.”

You chuckle through the tears that had built up in your eyes. He’s smiling at you as you reach up to cup his face in your palms, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. He’s watching you, still not quite believing that you’re here with him. After so long. 70 years of wondering if you’re still alive. 70 long years of wondering where you were in the world. 70 unbearable years of longing for your touch, your soft, plump lips that made his heart stop beating for a few seconds each time they would touch his in a kiss.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispers into the small gap of air space between you and him. “Each time I’d return from a mission and become myself again after being under mind-control, you were the first thing on my mind. To be honest, I don’t think you ever left it. You’ve always been there with me, in the deepest parts of my consciousness. You kept me sane during the missions, kept me from forgetting myself completely.”

Listening intently, you close your eyes as your thumbs continue to brush over the skin on his cheeks. He continues, a deep sigh falling from his lips and clashing against yours causing goosebumps to rise upon your body. You’re shocked that you have gone this far without smothering him in kisses. You don’t want to risk anything, waiting patiently for him to make the first move in the direction of more physical affection, whether it’s a touch of his hand, a hug or more.

“And when I realized it was you earlier today...” his voice cracks, “when I realized I almost killed you- I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for that.”

“You can and you will,” you softly tell him, the undertone of your voice stern, “you didn’t kill me. You wouldn’t. You were gonna recognize me sooner or later.”

He exhales shakily. “You don’t know that,” he almost snaps, eyes closed tightly as he drops his silver hand from your face. He pulls away from your touch, the warmth of him disappearing the further he moves away. He’s not looking at you. Tears are threatening to spill as you stare back at him, lips slightly parted as you want to speak up. You want to tell him he’s wrong, but you already know that he will not take your words for what they are. He, and you, know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t pushed him off when you did.

“You’re right,” you say, catching his attention again. He barely glances at you, noticing the small remnants of tears in your eyes before looking back at his silver hand, clenching and unclenching it. A tear rolls down your cheek. “You’re so right, Jungkook. I don’t know if you would or not.”

You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in since you brought him back to your apartment. Jungkook still refuses to look at you as you move onto the bed, crawling closer to him. You don’t hesitate as you lay a hand on his shoulder and throw a leg over his to straddle his lap. He finally looks at you, eyes slightly widened at your actions. His eyes meet teary ones again, his silver arm moving out of an old habit as he reaches up to wipe your tears away.

“But I like to think you would.”

Your lips press against his before he can reply to your words. Jungkook gasps and then grunts in response as you press your mouth to his, desperately and needy. His body freezes beneath you as you kiss him, tasting his lips for the first time in an unbearably long time. It takes him a while to realize that you’re kissing him, finally kissing you back as he cradles you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. The silver arm keeps a tight grip around your waist, holding you in place as the other runs up your thigh.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, letting your forehead rest against his. Jungkook is breathing heavily, his breath once again clashing against yours as you both catch your breath. Your eyes meet, seconds after he’s kissing you again, your tank top riding up as the silver arm keeps you tight against him. The silver touching your skin causes goosebumps to cover your skin, a chill running up your spine as you cup his face. His tongue licks against your bottom lip, you let him in. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue touches yours.

“I’ve been holding myself back ever since you woke up,” you whisper against his lips, making him smile as his hands slide under your top, pushing it up before pulling it over your head completely. You return to his lips, catching them with your own as you reach for the hem of his t-shirt. He helps you pull it off, your mind elsewhere as you throw it onto the floor. Your hands rake down his body, over the tensing muscles of his abdomen as he moves his kisses down your cheek and further under your jaw. Your breathing is ragged as you pull away, only a few inches so you can glance down at his torso. The sight horrifies you, your fingertips brushing over scars and healed wounds.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as you glance up at Jungkook, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before you look back at his chest. Your eyes wander, over his both small and larger scars to his silver arm. You feel your heart tightening as you take in the way the silver arm is sewed onto his body. You hesitate to reach up, Jungkook’s eyes on you as you let your shaking fingertips brush over the burned, scarred skin that keeps the silver arm attached. “I- This…”

His human hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. “I know,” he agrees without hearing the rest of the sentence. You look back at him, finding relief in his eyes as you rest your palms against his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he then says.

“They literally cut off your arm,” you point out, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t even imagine how much pain he must’ve been in when they did this to him. “I wish I could have spared you this pain, spared you the torture you went through.”

He smiles softly. “I know, ____. But there's no way you possibly could’ve.”

You're carefully running your pointer finger along one of his scars when you look up at him, eyelashes framing your eyes so perfectly. He thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, even more so than the last time he saw you. You can’t do anything to stop the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I love you so much, Jungkook.”

His breathing stops for a second, his heart skipping a beat. He hasn’t heard those words since 1944. He didn’t even hear those words that morning you had sent him off, he hadn’t said those words when he promised to return. He should have. That way you’d never be in doubt of his love. He wonders if you’ve loved him since or if there has been anyone else in the meantime to love you the way he should’ve.

Silently, you watch him as his thoughts run one hundred miles per hour. Your palms are sliding from his chest to his shoulders and further up his neck to cup his face again. The love he feels is evident in his eyes as he focuses on you.

“I love you,” he whispers, carefully turning you over onto your back only for him to hover over you. You’re watching him, tingling in your stomach as you hear the words fall from his lips. He returns to kissing you, kissing the skin on your cheek, your neck and further down to the very top of your chest, right beneath the collarbones. He glances up at you as he kisses his way down the valley of your bra-covered chest. “I didn’t say it enough back then,” he mouths against your skin, another round of goosebumps rising beneath his lips, “I should have said it more. I’m sorry.”

You exhale deeply, arching your back into his touch as he reaches your navel and moves even further down to the waistband of your pants, your spandex pants that you so elegantly wear whenever you have a mission with the Avengers.

“Stop apologizing,” you breathe out, eyes closed as you succumb to his touch. The silver hand brushes over your stomach as it runs up to your chest, unclasping your bra on the front. It falls to the sides, revealing your perky nipples to the crisp air. You gasp softly as a silver hand brushes over both, the cold steel doing nothing but erecting them even more. “I've always hated it when you apologize.”

He smirks softly against your lower stomach, pressing one last kiss to the skin there before pulling the silver hand down to pull off your pants, and panties too. The pants are barely on the floor before he returns to your lower abdomen, kisses being spread across your hip bones and pubic bone. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his long hair as he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs. He spreads your legs, revealing your throbbing core to him.

“God, I missed this,” he breathed out, the air of his words hitting your wet folds. “Having you like this, all to myself.”

You whine from above him. “Jungkook,” you whimper, “please.”

It doesn’t take more for him to lean closer, tongue licking a stripe up between your folds and to your clit, his silver arm sliding across your abdomen to keep you down as he eats you out for the first time in decades. One would think he had lost his touch and knowledge of a woman’s body, but you can say that he certainly didn’t as he roots himself between your legs, tongue licking your wetness and prodding at the entrance.

“Oh god,” you moan, softly gasping for air as his human hand rests on top of your one thigh, fingers digging into the flesh there. You’re in heaven, on the ninth cloud as he slurps your arousal, licking your folds and clit as if his life depended on it. “Fuck, Jungkook!”

The sound of your name toppling from your lips as he hits a certain nerve makes his body flush with a warmth he almost forgot what feels like. You’re writhing in the tight hold of his silver arm, squirming as he licks you to your release. The orgasm is approaching fast and hard, Jungkook being the sole reason for it. No one could ever get you there as fast as him.

“I’m s-so close- oh!,” you pant, your walls clenching as Jungkook’s actual fingers slide into you. He pumps his hand in and out of you in a pace that is perfectly building up your orgasm. He takes nothing but a glance into his eyes as he leans down to softly kiss your clit that you’re toppling over, hitting the wall of your orgasm. “J-jungkook, my god!”

You jerk away as he leans forward, tongue licking up your release, tasting it on his taste buds. He hums with a small smile as he glances up at you, loving the way your eyes are almost bulging out of your head at the sight of him between your thighs. It takes nothing more than a few seconds before you shitting up, Jungkook meeting you halfway in a kiss. Tongues clash against each other, the taste of you on his tongue as he kisses you deeply, needingly.

“Please fuck me,” you mumble in between kisses, a desperate whining tone attached to your words. “Make love to me, Jungkook.”

He seals your words with a kiss, giving you a silent promise of doing just that. As if he’d lick you out and that would be it. No way.

You watch, teeth biting into your bottom lip, as he gets off the bed to remove the sweatpants you had dressed him in when you got back, getting him out of those military pants with belts and buckles all over them. His cock springs free, slaps against his abdomen as it stands proud into the air. A rush runs through your stomach at the sight, mouth slightly watering. Once the sweatpants and his boxers lie on the floor by his feet, he crawls back onto the bed. He moves closer, pushing you back onto your back as he hovers over you. You’re glancing at his silver arm for a mere split second, your hair reaching up to run along the hard edges of it. Jungkook can’t feel your touch but he’d like to imagine that he can as he watches your palm brushing over and further up to the nape of his neck. His eyes move back to lock with yours. You’re looking at him just like you did that last night of intimacy you had back in 1944, the night before he was sent off on a deathly mission. A huge wave of emotions hits him as he glances from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I love you,” he softly says, eyebrows furrowed together as he looks at you, “so much, ____.”

You smile, pulling him down to meet you in a kiss. The kisses are soft, tender even as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance. You gasp into his mouth as the tip of his cock prods at your folds. A hand of yours tangles back into his locks as he pushes inside, the tightness overwhelming for the both of you. He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths clashing together between you as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Shit,” he hisses, glancing down at your connecting hips. “Can i move?”

You nod your head, whispering, “yes.”

Jungkook watches the way your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pulls out and pushes back in, the sight causing him to do it again and again, wanting to see you lose yourself and succumb to the feeling of his cock brushing against your walls.

“Oh fuck!” You gasp as he gives you a particularly hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he hits that exact spot that makes you whimper out a soft, whiny moan. You’re clawing at his shoulders, his neck and chest as he sets a rhythm, keeping it steady as he grinds into you. He grabs your leg with his silver hand, helping you to wrap it around his waist. The other follows suit, locking with your other behind his back. He hits deep inside of you, his veiny cock sliding against your walls so deliciously.

It’s like that last night you had with him all over again just with more longing and more desperate kisses. Your stomach tingles with the overwhelming amount of emotions you’re feeling in this exact moment as you look up at him – his long hair slightly damp at the roots, his toned chest glistening in sweat as he works you both to a release, to a high you’re both so desperately in the need of.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as you unawarely clench around his length, his head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t do that or I’ll cum right now.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, chuckling as he eyes you with a small smirk. God, you wanna ride him so badly. “Oh, Jungkook,” you moan breathily as he hits your spot again. He’s watching you, eyes running over your face as it contorts in pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunts, leaning up on his hands to get a better angle. He rams his hips into you, his strength coming to show as he thrusts into you harder than ever before. The power of his thrusts have you seeing stars as your second orgasm nears you. Jungkook can feel it as you clinch repeatedly around him. He won’t last much longer if you continue to do that.

High pitched moans tumble from your parted lips as he speeds up his movements, desperately trying to get you over the edge before he topples over himself. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as you reach your high, the orgasm hitting you like a bullet.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, breathing ragged as he continues to fuck you to get himself to cum. His breathing is uneven, not matching his thrusts as all as he moves in and out a few more times before stilling inside of you, spilling his load and painting your walls inside.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes out as he drops his forehead to your collarbone. You’re smiling widely as you run your fingers from his shoulders and up into his hair. He lifts his head to look at you as you push his long, brown hair out of his face. You know him too well when he gives you a look, a small smirk on his lips. A joke is coming. You can just feel it. And you can’t help but grin at him as everything feels exactly like 1944 again. Also, you want to punch him for his next words:

“Not too bad for a 98-year-old, huh?”

all rights reserved © mercurygguk (with help from marvel studios *wink* )

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Warmth

Bela Dimitrescu x They/Them Reader

A/N: Yes, I’ve contracted the RE8 fever, and a bit late at that, what about it? Anyway, hope ya’ll like it. I don’t think there is anything that I should have to warn any of you about but let me know if I’m wrong. Word Count: 2,176

Being the fire stoker for the Dimitrescu daughters was simultaneously the best and worst job in the castle. It was the best job in that the daughters saw them as too valuable to kill or maim since they did their job so well. It made the daughters actually quite appreciative of them. Worst because if (Y/n) were to, god forbid, let a fire die in one of the girl’s rooms, their own light would be just as quickly snuffed out for such an error. That appreciation could turn to devastating hate on a dime if they were to slip up.

Winter was the most critical season. (Y/n) was often running room to room stoking the fires of each daughter’s most favorite areas of the castle to keep the most desirable temperatures. Often times they would fall asleep in the halls outside of the most at risk rooms and jerk awake at the slightest drop in temperature. Lady Dimitrescu had caught them dozing off once and scared them terribly when they awoke. Luckily, the Lady simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way, but not before reminding (Y/n) how easily a fire could fizzle out without the proper care and consideration. A warning.

The castle was huge, (Y/n) wished to argue, it wasn’t their fault that the daughters and their favorite rooms were so spread out. They’d like to see the Lady tend to every fire all throughout the harsh Romanian winter and see how long she could go without suffering from exhaustion. Well, on second thought, could the Lady even get tired? (Y/n) shook their head and sighed, rubbing at their bloodshot eyes. Lady Bela’s room was next in the rotation so they made their way to her wing while checking the state of their matchbook. They’d need to visit the kitchens to get a new one soon.

As they neared Lady Bela’s chambers they noted a slight chill which made their blood run cold.

“No, it can’t be...!” They gasped, fully sprinting down the hall now. They somehow remembered decorum despite the frenzy they had worked themself into and knocked upon the door, announcing their presence before stepping in. Their heart dropped to their feet.

The fire had completely died and Lady Bela was shivering in her bed, only her golden eyes could be seen staring at (Y/n) from beneath the covers as they rushed to the fire place with trembling hands.

“I’m so sorry Lady Bela!” They apologized fervently. How could this have happened? They had the timing down to a science! They had gotten too comfortable as Lady Dimitrescu had suggested and now the eldest daughter was sure to kill them for their carelessness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how this could have happened! I swear I’ll fix this, you’ll warm up in no time!”

Soon enough, the fire was blazing, the snap of the wood causing (Y/n) to flinch back. They heard the rustling of sheets and saw a black silk nightgown in their left periphery before they scrunched their eyes tightly shut. This was it, they had outgrown their usefulness. They held their breath and waited to be dragged away by Bela’s sickle but the biting pain never came. Instead, they were enveloped in chilled arms and wrapped in a luxurious duvet. An Ice cold nose dug into their neck and made them flinch.

“You will warm me. Move before I allow it and this will be the last fire you tend to.” Bela shivered and chattered against (Y/n)’s neck.

“Y—yes Lady Bela. Of course.” (Y/n) replied, back stiffening as Bela moved curl up in their lap. It was a bit awkward considering she was taller than most, but once settled she seemed pleased enough.

They sat like that for what felt like hours to (Y/n). Enough time to make their legs cramp and back ache. If Bela didn’t let them go soon, they were sure they’d have more than one displeased Dimitrescu sister to worry about. Fortunately, Lady Bela seemed to have grown tired of them and rose from their lap with a sigh before languidly moving back to her bed.

“Move along little human, if you let Cassandra’s fire go out I can’t say she will be as merciful as I.” Bela informed, looking back at (Y/n) over her shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“Yes, of course! Thank you Lady Bela, I swear I’ll never let it happen again!” (Y/n) bowed deeply before running out of the bedroom, shutting the door tight and quick not only to keep the heat in, but to hinder Bela a moment if she decided to change her mind on being merciful. They ran down the hall like a bullet leaves a gun to tend to Cassandra’s fire next, praying it hadn’t met the same early death as Bela’s.

***

It happened again.

It happened again and (Y/n) was absolutely beside themself. They had never been so sloppy in their life and even if Bela wasn’t going to kill them they almost wanted to sickle their own shoulder for their ineptitude.

“Tell me, what did you promise me yesterday little human?” Bela taunted from the bed while (Y/n) frantically stoked the fire to a roaring blaze.

“I— I don’t know what to say Lady Bela, I am disgusted with myself. Truly, I’ve never—“

“Hush now.” Bela glared from the pile of soft covers. If she wasn’t a vampiric bug woman with murderous tendencies, the scene would have been adorable. But (Y/n) knew better than to entertain the thought for long. Then Bela stretched her hand out from beneath her mountain of blankets.

“Come, warm me little human.”

“Whatever you wish, Lady Bela!” (Y/n) nodded, giving the fire one last look as if to say, ‘behave!’ and then they quickly stood beside Bela’s bed. There was no time to be shy when Bela lifted the covers, (Y/n) dove right in and let Bela maneuver them however she wished.

Unlike the day before, this warming position was much more comfortable and so much more dangerous. (Y/n) could feel that they were starting to drift off in the luxurious bed. If they fell asleep here, surely they would not wake again. Well, that might actually be kind. Who wants to be awake for their death anyway?

“I can feel your heart slowing, little human. Perhaps you’d best be on your way before you succumb to sleep and leave another fire to die.” Bela whispered a bit snidely.

“Right!” (Y/n) shot up and fell out of the bed, scrambling to their feet and anxiously smoothing the covers back down, “Thank you again for your mercy, Lady Bela. I’ll do better!”

“See to it that you do.” Bela replied airily as (Y/n) left the room. They failed to notice the small smile curling Bela’s lips as she watched them go.

***

Two weeks. Nine out of the fourteen days Bela’s fire had died before (Y/n) could stoke it. Sometimes, it even happened twice in one day and (Y/n) was dangerously close to a mental break. Bela, miraculously, seemed to have the patience of a saint and had yet to kill (Y/n) for their failures, simply making the fire stoker warm her with their body before sending them away. Despite the circumstances that preceded the impromptu cuddling sessions, (Y/n) couldn’t help but enjoy every moment they held Bela close or visa versa. It was actually really nice. They would have been lying if they said they hadn’t felt an attraction for the eldest daughter growing within them as they became used to life in the castle.

That didn’t mean (Y/n) didn’t feel horrible though. Each failure, every shiver drawn from Bela’s body, hacked at them like an axe and it was only a matter of time before they became the timber for the next fire.

So they set out for today to go differently, they quickly stoked Daniela’s fire and the one in the library, as well as the parlor, before bounding over to Bela’s room to arrive nearly half an hour earlier than usual. They knocked, announcing their presence, before promptly opening the door. They were already halfway across the room when they glanced up, pausing mid step when they saw Lady Bela out of bed standing over the fireplace. She stared back with wide golden eyes, seemingly frozen in time as well if not for the trickle of water pouring from the small bucket in her hands.

The sizzle of the water meeting the hot wood drew (Y/n)’s eyes to the fireplace and they watched slack jawed as smoke billowed and the small fire drowned into nothingness.

“...what?” (Y/n) whispered, their eyes shifting back to Bela who had the decency to look thoroughly embarrassed before fruitlessly hiding the bucket behind her back. The unusually meek display from the eldest Dimitrescu daughter seemed to spark (Y/n) to speak further out of turn, though words did not seem to be coming easily to them as they just continued to say, ‘what’, only getting louder and sounding more confused and utterly flabbergasted with each utterance. Their arms gestured between Bela and the sodden, burnt wood several times before Bela finally groaned and tossed the empty bucket into the nearest corner of her room with a clatter and a dull thud against the carpet.

“That’s enough!” Bela said sternly, causing (Y/n)’s jaw to snap back shut. She stalked over to them and lifted them by their shirt, quickly pushing them back against a wall in such a way that left their feet slightly above the floor as their hands scrambled to hold onto Bela’s.

“You will speak about this to no one!” She hissed, a buzzing sound emitting from her chest.

“My Lady,” (Y/n) wheezed, “I won’t say anything I swear!”

Bela scrutinized them closely before lowering them back down with a shallow nod.

“Good. Now,” she cleared her throat sheepishly before turning back towards her bed, “light the fire.”

(Y/n) didn’t need to be asked twice, scrambling to their knees in front of the fireplace. As they replaced the soggy wood with fresh timber, their mind raced. Why would Lady Bela douse her fire only to demand it be relit? Why would she do such a thing when she was so susceptible to the cold?

Once the fire was blazing once more, they tentatively turned to Bela, watching as she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her feet. If (Y/n) couldn’t know the motives behind such a play, they were sure to lose their mind. So, they tested their luck and addressed Bela who gave them a warning look.

“Lady Bela, forgive me, but why ever would you douse your fire? Lady Dimitrescu had informed me of how important it is that you and your sisters stay warm when she assigned me this position. And... well, please forgive me if I’m wrong, you seemed to have made a bit of a habit out of it...”

Bela clenched her fists and growled, making (Y/n) jump to their feet.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” They said, making a dash to the door only to bump into a wall of Bela’s flies. This had to be it. They should have just kept their mouth shut!

“Stop panicking, little human.” Bela sighed and finished reforming in front of (Y/n). The fire stoker nodded, but their heart still beated ferociously in their chest. Being told to stop panicking by a Dimitrescu was like a great white shark telling a bleeding seal in open water to do the same.

“I’m only going to say this once so listen closely,” Bela averted her eyes for a moment and bit her lip before focusing back in on (Y/n), “you’re beautiful... handsome? Pleasant to look at and very warm and soft, sweet. I can’t very well snuggle up to a fire without being burned so I... stop looking at me like that.”

(Y/n) had a cute little smile on their face that seemed to be growing by the second. Their eyes were bright and alert as they soaked in every word and Bela couldn’t stop the small smirk tugging at her own lips.

“If it’s cuddling you wish for my Lady, you need only ask. I do enjoy the time we’ve been spending together as of late. Well, minus the heart attacks every time I see the fire’s dead.” (Y/n) informed.

“Just please,” they added, “no more fire sabotaging. I hate to see you shiver.”

“Easy enough,” Bela hummed before pulling (Y/n) back to her bed with visible excitement in her eyes, “hurry now, you got here early today so we have extra time!”

Before, Bela had been rather stiff with her demands. It was like (Y/n) was warming a block of ice wary of melting, but now she all but flung herself at (Y/n) with no inhibitions now that her secret was out. She hummed pleasantly and (Y/n) wiggled in her hold while icy fingers trailed beneath their shirt to settle on heated skin. It was shaping up to be a rather eventful winter.

[zepskies]

I feel like I can finally take a breath. 😮‍💨

Ha! But not really, because I've got like, 2 more full one-shots with multiple parts planned in the BMD-verse. (They're pretty much already written though, so we're good lmfao.) 🤣

And yes, trouble in paradise indeed! Things could never be easy with these two.

Living together is never easy to start with while you find your footing with each other however it really feels like Ben is taking the reader for granted.

I don't think he means to, but he literally doesn't know any other way to be just yet loll. It's been taking a lot of patience and nagging and cajoling on her part to get him to see reason on a lot of their domestic issues. 😂

Louisa definitely has valid reasons for believing her sister has Stockholm syndrome 😂 but the reader also makes valid points, she doesn’t know Ben. She hasn’t seen how he’s changed. He really needs to make more effort if this relationship is going to work.

Exactly! I also see both sides of the argument loll. An argument that's going to continue in the rest of Love Actually. 😏

Your Jeff Goldblum gif had me DYING. 🤣🤣 The perfect reaction.

I do agree that a lot of the time, actions speak louder than words and it is clear in some respects that he is showing her with actions (the apartment etc) but damn does he not understand that even if it’s just very occasional, you’ve got to hear the words.

Absolutely! Ben's relying on his actions to do the talking so he doesn't have to actually dig into his man feelings. But if he wants to continue this relationship, he's gonna have to put on his big boy pants and use his big boy words. 😂 He's being stubborn, and she's at the end of her rope.

I’m so glad the reader has Annie. I know they’re perhaps still a little wary but she’s there for her and even though it wasn’t needed I love that she was ready to go and kick his ass if he’d actually hurt the reader.

The reader needs solid friends in her life, and she has that in Yvette and Annie for sure. Annie's nothing if not a protector, and I think she would go above and beyond for her friends.

Yeah I had to include that little tidbit between Ben and Butcher loll. "You kinda saved my life but I don't like it." "Yeah, I'm not too keen on it either, pal." 😅

I get he’s protective of her but he is completely going the wrong way about this? Trying to make out she’s not capable? He needs to carefully think about his next moves right now 😂 he is skating on thin ice.

And about to sink like a MF'ing stone. 🥶 He's coming from a place of protectiveness, concern, and love, but he's not showing it very well. She's not giving him the time of day about it either.

I'm really glad you enjoyed how the tension built throughout the whole mission! I tried to make it gradual but still give those warning signs. Because of course, it wasn't going to go smoothly. 😂

But as soon as she got into that room I just knew sapphire was going to be there. I swear, how does the reader keep getting herself in these situations. She’s literally a magnet for trouble.

Ben's point exactly lmfao. He swears she's wearing a fucking beacon that says, "Here I am, Danger. Come get me, bitch."

The scene where she’s trying to escape had me on the edge of my seat as I honestly wasn’t sure how far you were going to go with it.

Honestly didn't either myself, at first. 🤣🤣 But THIS is hilarious (and possibly accurate):

Honest to god, that man [Ben] must have saved the reader more times than all the other peoples he’s saved put together 😂

LOL I felt for Ben when he's charging through the hall to find whoever fucked up. We all know it's out of anger, worry, protectiveness, even if he's being a bit much right now. To his credit, she really could've died because of that one mistake.

The argument they have in the hall was my second-favorite scene to write in this chapter! I love it when they bicker lmfao. I also love that the "grandpa" line was your favorite. 😂

For me it's this one: “You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

Only because we all damn well know he ain't gonna do shit. 😂😂 He might raise his voice and be an asshole, but he's literally carrying her out in his arms. And she knows he's not going to do shit. As a result, she set phasers to "Sass." Without mercy.

But M.M.'s line pretty much sums it up!! loll

[About Ben wanting her out of the field and remaining in Surveillance]: He’s probably right in some respects but you just know he’s wanting to keep her out the danger.

Yeah, again there are valid points on both sides of the issue. She's human, vulnerable, and while she knows what she's doing, there's inherently more risk for her than there is for Ben. And yes, he's coming from a place of concern and love, but she's also right in that he can't control her. She's going to do what she needs to do, despite the risks.

[On the reader packing a bag]: Damn girl! Yes! It’s drastic but this has been going on for months. She needs to make it clear how she’s feeling and words aren’t getting through to him so use some action. I love how that has kind of been a running theme throughout the whole chapter.

Yes!! On her end, it's words vs. actions. On his end, it's actions vs. words. I literally just noticed that parallel! Thank you, lovely. 😂😘😘

““Because I fucking love you,” he said.” Halle-fucking-lujah!

Hell to the yeah. 😏😏

And it was important to me to get Ben's side of things as well, to explain why he was holding back and not telling her what he obviously feels. Unfortunately, it's also twined with his (valid) fears:

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Side note: why am I not surprised dr baker has come out on the up 😒

Girl, me either. This bitch don't wanna go down. But it's actually on-brand for the U.S. government (think the German scientists they recruiting during/after WWII to play for the U.S.). But Dr. Baker will appear again in a future one-shot, Strong as Blood... I leave you to imagine in what capacity that might be. 😌🤐

Those following lines of Ben finally being completely, 100% honest about how he feels was so cathartic for me to write lol. Like fucking finally, right? 🤣

Aaaaand, then it immediately gets complicated again. Ben's much too excited about her lack of birth control.

Again I can just see his smirk, looking like a kid at Christmas. Of course this is what he wants despite only just admitting his feelings. I’m so glad the reader is a voice of reason but then of course he’s so damn sexy she just forgets herself. “And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.” Oh damn that man 😂🙈

Damn him to pieces. 🤣🤣 He really did finesse her without meaning to. (I think we can all forgive her.) LMFAO "super sperm" took me TF out. But don't worry, I'm coming back to this convo in future one-shots. "Soon, not someday." 😜

Ben can complain all he wants about having a 3-bedroom luxury apartment in the most affluent city in NY, but he knows he's where he's supposed to be. 😂 He feels at home because he has a home with the one he loves.

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.”” Had me giggling so much.

Another one of my favorite lines to write for this chapter! loll It really seems to be the crux of their relationship (or at least, how it started), and yet, it's so much more than that. In fact, you said it perfectly here:

Despite the arguing they’re both so good for each other. They both have had fucked childhoods and lives and they need the other. They need someone who isn’t going to give up on them easily.

💯💯💯

They both have troubled pasts and emotional scars. And their relationship is healing to each other. 🥹

And as for this:

I’ve enjoyed the journey you’ve took these two on and I honestly can’t wait for the next parts you have coming up and honestly, kinda hope you choose to write more as I’m not ready to say goodbye to them.

Thank you so much!! 💓💓

I'm honestly not ready to say goodbye to them either. To me, this is just and ending "chapter" of their story.

There's more to be said and explored with them, and that's why I'm looking forward to what you guys think of the rest of Love Actually and Strong as Blood, when it comes out afterwards.

I think that'll put more of a pin on their story. But even then, I think I'll always be open to give more snapshots into their lives together, as long as people still want to read about them. (I even have a couple of BMD-verse requests in my inbox that I can dive into later.)

All that to say, thank you infinitely much, my friend!! Your feedback/encouragements are amazing and special to me! I can't wait to bring Part 2 of LA next week!! 💞💞

Soon, not someday. 😘

(And fair warning, Ben's gonna be a bit grumpy on the outset. lol)

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.” 

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together: 

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.” 

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest. 

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could. 

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied. 

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?” 

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.” 

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to. 

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well.  With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through. 

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years. 

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you. 

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

 “Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.” 

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door. 

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this. 

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you. 

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning. 

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building. 

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms. 

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked. 

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head. 

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.  

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you. 

“I said enough,” he snapped. 

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?” 

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said. 

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before. 

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth. 

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her. 

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team. 

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world. 

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.” 

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm. 

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone. 

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile. 

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said. 

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory. 

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them. 

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.   

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.” 

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother. 

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there. 

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened. 

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.” 

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.” 

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him. 

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone. 

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now. 

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.  

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said. 

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow. 

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.” 

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Buuut…?” 

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips. 

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—” 

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze. 

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke...

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

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