#So the toy “comes back from the dead” (the boy thought it had been thrown out) with a little patch on the back :)

[asmuchasidliketo]

saca kintsugi

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 4.01

Sensing movement in your cell, you lunge upright and reach for your knife. It was late at night, and all the lights were out in your block. Your eyes nip as you squint to try and adjust your vision to see in the dark.

“Shit, it’s just me. Sorry,” Daryl whispers.

“Daryl? You almost gave me a heart attack.” Groaning, you lay back down. You moved so fast that your head was starting to spin. “Has something happened?”

“No.”

It has been a long day for everyone, and this would be the first night the survivors from Woodbury would spend in the prison as part of your community. You were confused about what Daryl was doing in your cell in the middle of the night, but your unspoken question was answered when he kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the top bunk. You didn’t mind him being there. In fact, it made you feel safer with him there.

Exhausted, you quickly drift back off to sleep, and in the morning, you wake just as Daryl jumps down from the top bunk. He picks up a stuffed toy Jace had thrown during the night and places it in the cot beside him.

“Daryl?” You whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m… I’m glad you're here.”

—

Six months later

Walking up the path between the fences in the courtyard, you watch as Carol hands Daryl a bowl of food. You had seen Patrick, a teenage boy, shaking Daryl’s hand, no doubt to thank him for bringing back a large deer the night before. You hated hunting but knew it was necessary to keep your growing community fed. Thankfully, the members of the prison council, including yourself, took more of an active role in different jobs, so you only joined Daryl hunting when nobody else was available to go with him.

Greeting them, you smile, “Carol, Mr. Dixon.”

“Shut up,” he says, tossing a scrunched-up napkin at you playfully. “Where are you skiving off to anyway?”

“Pee break.”

You had spent the past few hours trying to pick off walkers who were gathering by the fences. If the small clusters weren’t taken care of, the fences would start to come down. A few of the newer people brought into your community were taken aback by how unfazed your original group was while dealing with the dead. After stabbing most walkers in the head, you’d load the bodies into the back of a truck, then take them into the forest and burn them. The only downside of your community growing was the added noise attracting the dead.

“I’ll catch you guys in a bit. Be safe out there.”

—

While washing your hands, you feel eyes burning into you. You glance around but can’t see anyone else. In the bathroom; all the cubicle doors are open, and nobody was in the showers. Thinking it’s only your imagination, you go to leave the bathroom, but just before you reach the doorway, someone grabs hold of your hips.

Without looking back, you say, “I thought you were going on a run.”

Daryl’s lips trace the curve of your neck. “I am. But I wanted to say goodbye first.”

You spin around to face him and push your lips against his; the taste of cigarettes lingers on his lips. He grips your hips and pulls you in closer. There was no privacy in the prison, so it wasn’t often you got to enjoy having Daryl to yourself. He kisses your cheek, then the tip of your nose, before stepping back. “I better go. They’ll be waiting on me.”

“Be safe.”

“You too.”

—

“It’s a difficult decision, isn’t it?” you say playfully. “You’ve got so many toys, it’s hard to choose which one to play with first.”

Jace looks between the toys he’s holding in each hand, then throws them both down and giggles to himself. A room that was once a warden's office was now turned into a playroom for kids, and in the library, Carol would read the kids stories in the afternoon.

Jace stares up at you with his big brown eyes and reaches his little fist out. “Mom, mom, mom.”

“Mom, mom, mom.” You repeat, picking him up and sitting him on your knees. “Jace, Jace, Jace.”

He laughs again. Jace was slowly picking up words and was able to walk a very short distance without falling. Although, whenever Rick or Daryl was watching, he’d hold up his arms until one of them picked him up.

“He is without a doubt one of the cutest kids I’ve ever seen.”

Karen kneels down beside you and smiles wildly at him. The brunette had come from Woodbury; she was kind and always wanted to be involved in ongoing tasks, helping anyway she could.

Jace studied her for a moment before turning his attention back to his favorite stuffed toy, a red teddy bear Maggie had given him.

“Has he picked a name for his toy yet?”

“Baby.,” you chuckle. “Oh god, we better get back out there before it gets dark.”

She nods. There was still a load of walkers to clear, but you had set it up so everyone got a short break. Karen looks at you concernedly when you clear your throat a couple of times. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just the dry heat in here.”

After a few moments, you sigh, “Okay, Jacey, I gotta go back outside.”

“We’ll have lots of fun,” Beth says.

She had volunteered to watch the kids while their parents were on shift. You didn’t like the idea of leaving Jace in the care of someone you didn’t know, but you

—

Feeling a dip beside you in the bed, you reach your hand back to feel for Daryl and link your fingers with his. “You’re back late; how was the supply run? Is everyone okay?”

“Zach died. He got bitten by a walker.”

You pull your joined hands around to your front and kiss the back of his hand. Daryl always took it personally when someone died. Zack was just a teenage boy. Beth was dating him, and you knew Daryl would be beating himself up, thinking it was his fault she had lost someone else.

“I’m sorry.”

He says nothing; he just shuffles closer to you. Daryl had placed himself between you and the wall; the bunk beds weren’t large, so you didn’t have much room to stretch out. You and Daryl had never spoken about being together; it just happened.

“You’re so hot.”

“Thanks!” you chuckle, causing you to cough.

“No, seriously.” He places his hand on your forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m fine; I'm just tired and probably burned from being in the sun all day.”

[breyito]

Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Two: Tortured Souls

@painlandweek Day 2: Leyends

Part 1 Part 3 Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

A/N: Goodness gracious. This chapter is a behemoth. I think I have not written so much in one go since...2019? When the fires of wrath at Tony's death still lived within me lmao (im still mad, but im also tired now) Anyways!!! This took so long because the scenes just kept needing to be written out and out! And the dialogue! So.much.dialogue. Also, WARNING: there are some descriptions and threats of rape/non-con (about ocs and towards Crystal), so, *please* be careful. These ghosts are some real scumbags. As always, English is not my first language and I have no beta. Also, it's near 5AM, so. Any edits that need doing I'll do later. Enjoy!

Part Two: Tortured Souls

“What-t the fuck do you even want!? ” screamed Charles, after the thirteenth time he was transported from the rocks on the shore onto the cold concrete floor. He punched the floor in frustration but it didn’t make any difference: he wouldn’t feel it even if he tore out chunks of it. He’d tried that, digging his way out, but it was no use; the fucking room returned to its original state no matter what he did. 

(He’d also tried to break the iron bars on the window, but no matter how much of his hands he burned while trying, it was useless. The only thing it did was multiply the pain when he got thrown into the freezing depths again.)

He clenched his teeth while clothing himself again. He heard a giggle that sent another shiver down his spine and to the very core of his essence. 

“Oh, I’m just softening you up, kid.” the witch answered, an incorporeal voice just in his ear. Charles jumped and whirled around, but there was no one. 

“Softening me for what !?” he insisted. “How long do you plan to keep doing this for!?”

“Well…until you no longer have any fight in you, of course.” She giggled again. “That’s the best way to break in a new toy.” 

“I’m not a bloody toy !” he yelled, incandescently furious. The first dregs of a new kind of dread were emerging, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“You are now. Mmm, the things he’ll do to you when he comes back…”she teased, like the mere thought gave her pleasure. She sighed. “It’ll be delicious .”

Charles choked on his helplessness, and tried really hard to be more angry than scared. He almost manages to convince himself he succeeded. 

“See you later, baby. The lake needs time to freeze over, you know.” Just like that, the heavy presence was gone. 

Dawn had come while they talked. Still shivering, Charles curled up on the concrete floor, trying to place himself on the faint rays of sunlight. Not for the first time in his afterlife, he wished he could feel their heat as well as he could feel this permanent cold. It felt like he had never known warmth. Like the golden light of a lantern reflected on a pair of soft green eyes had only ever been an illusion.

Still, he kept Edwin’s face on his mind. The furrow of his eyebrows, the twitch of his nose when he wanted to say something and knew he shouldn’t, the sharp angle of his cheekbones….the tempting bow of his lower lip, just begging to be kissed. 

God…I wished I had just told you. I’m sorry, Edwin. I’m so sorry.  

—- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

By the time Crystal’s alarm went off, it was far past noon already. A part of her wanted to yell at Edwin for letting her oversleep when they were in a crisis, but as she looked around the office and noticed the complete state of chaos it was in, the words died in her throat. 

Edwin was dressed impeccably, though, sharp and without a hair out of place. Somehow, despite being only in his vest and coat, he seemed…more put together than usual. When the light hit him just right, he looked like a threat . It was unsettling, and made her feel ill at ease. But she pushed through it, because this was her friend, worried sick about their other missing friend.

Still, the way his fists kept meeting one another, and the now black gloves he wore gave away his agitation; and choked her up a bit. He had Charles’ necklace around his neck, and he was squeezing it between his fingers after every third time he smashed his knuckles together.

“Hey” she said, as she stood up from the couch.

“Good morning.” Edwin said, turning. “We have plenty to do today, but since the places we need to get to are not open before sundown, we have time for you to grab a bite.”

“I’m fine-”she tried to say.

“Crystal.” he interrupted. “You are alive , and thus have certain basic needs that have to be met for your presence to be beneficial to Charles’ rescue.” He took a deep breath. “If you insist on becoming a hindrance by refusing to take those necessary steps; I have no problem leaving you bound here in the office, until I get him back.” The tone of his voice left her no doubt he was completely serious, and would, in fact, leave her trapped in this room.

“Fuck, fuck , allright.” she conceded, as she put on her shoes. “But you will fill me in on what you found in the meantime.” Edwin tilted his head. 

“Very well.” with that he turned around and crossed through the door. Cursing under her breath, she hurried to follow him.

—-- —-- —--

 Once they were situated in a caffe with her meal in front of her and her earpiece very visible to avoid unwanted attention, she gestured for him to explain. Edwin, sitting across the table, cleared his throat and started.

“As we suspected, I cannot find him through usual tracking spells. This magic user has hidden their signatures too well for that.” He shifted in the seat, looking around before taking out his notebook. “However, I can track the ghost that hired us and lead us right to the trap.”

“Why haven’t you done that already then?”

“Because, first of all, at least back in the church, he had items that made him stronger and managed to escape after hurting Charles but just before he was taken and all the mirrors shattered.”

“So he’s tricky, is what you mean.”

“Exactly. We have no way of knowing if the witch provided him those items solely for the trap or if he has more of them. I’d hate to be ill prepared to face him, especially with you in tow.”

“I can handle myself.” she refuted, tone harsh.

“Crystal.” Edwin waited until she looked him in the eye, which was rare for him so she did. “I may not be very good at social interactions, but I did notice the way he was looking at you. It made me uncomfortable, so I can only imagine what it was like for you.”

“Well.” she said with a strained smile, eyes focused on her plate. “It’s not like it's the first time.” Crystal saw him hesitating on the corner of her eye, and then felt a slight pressure on her sleeve. She looked up and saw him give her a pained smile back.

“I am under no impression that what I experience when I use my disguises is anywhere near the real life, constant feeling of being under scrutiny and threat from those kinds of…men. And while the hardships I suffered when I was alive may give me some insight, it is not the same. But it is not normal and it is not okay.” He looked away for a tick before looking back at her. “In the future, we’ll try to screen these types of clients better. If they cannot treat you with the appropriate respect, they do not deserve our help.” He squeezed her arm once before letting go.

Done with sentimentalities for the time being, he leaned back and busied himself with his notes. Crystal, feeling like she had been punched in the throat, focused back on her meal and tried not to cry.

When enough time had passed that she felt she could speak without sounding choked, she set down her glass and tapped the table to get his attention back.

“You said we needed to go somewhere that wouldn’t be ‘open’ until night. Where is that? Some sort of library, a supernatural store…?”

“Not this time. Are you familiar with the term ‘black market’?” The ghost asked.

“Are you kidding? There’s a black market for magical stuff?” she hissed. “Wouldn’t that just be a regular magical market or whatever?”

“Oh, no. The supernatural world works on complicated networks. Usually, for regular cases, we can go to above board individuals or shops. But sometimes, less… moral objects are needed, and the Obscure Mart is the ideal place to obtain them.”

“Obscure Mart? Damn, you guys really love your theatrics, don’t you?”

“Of course.” he smirked. “That’s half the fun of all of it.” She was tempted to ask what the other half was, but feared getting off track.

“What do we need from this black market then?”

“Ideally, truth spells talismans. The iron chains to contain him are already inside the bag.” he pointed to Charles’ backpack. “Then, maybe some holy oil. Our reserve is quite small, and I’d rather have a larger circle than a small one.”

“Wait a minute. Holy oil? Isn’t that the stuff that can disintegrate a ghost if they touch it?”

“Indeed. Do you remember the abandoned warehouse of the Mc’Call case?” at her nod, he continued. “My plan is to catch unawares, and push him through a mirror into the building. I have already set up a salt circle to avoid him escaping, but I believe a holy fire around that circle will be better.”

“Isn’t that super dangerous?”

“It has its risks, but I think it is worth it. Besides, once you get there, you’ll put out the fire.” He adds.

“I mean, the warehouse is not far from here, but  how do we know that this guy won’t be in, like, Tanzania?” 

“These types usually have a pattern. As we’ve seen, he’s lazy, a pervert and from London. I don’t think he’s gone far at all.”

“Fine, ok. Also, truth spells? Couldn’t you just” she waves her fingers “do one?”

“Not at all. As a form of incantation, truth spells are useless. Truth spells talismans are one of the trickiest bits of magic and do work. The runes need to be in a specific pattern, written down in a special paper, with a particular ink, prepared in a confluence of the ley lines and only in certain phases of the moon.”  

“Well, damn. Off to the black market we go, then.” 

Ignoring the alarmed look from the waitress, she left a tip and got up to follow the ghost boy. 

—-- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

The entrance to the Obscure Mart was hidden in an ancient alleyway, behind a brick wall. Crystal had to bite her tongue not to make any Harry Potter related comments. (She had no desire to listen to another rant about how Rowling did the whole community a huge disservice, since she’d have to defend the world of Harry Potter but not the author because fuck that terf; and she hasn’t got the energy for that).

The market was a lively place, if a bit well, dark. Actual-for-realsies torches were the main source of light. The fires were of multiple colours though, which is cool. There were some stores she could see, but it seemed to be mostly tables and tents at the sides of the very long alley, with some narrow corridors on both sides. It’s not empty, but it’s not packed either. The first person that waved at them smiled, then looked behind Edwin at Crystal, and swallowed.

“Hi, Edwin!” They look behind the teens again. “Where’s Charles?” They ask, barely keeping the smile on their face.

“Taken.” Edwin said, curt. The person talking to them paled and then cursed softly. Crystal bit her lip not to question the wisdom of admitting such a thing, keeping in mind the ghost’s warning before going in: she was not to speak unless directly questioned.. “I need you to point me in the direction of Garreth Gadget?” he asked. Crystal blinked twice and tried not to snort at the name. 

“Y-yeah, sure. He’s on the seventh entrance tonight.” With barely a nod in acknowledgment, Edwin kept walking. 

The psychic girl saw the person that was just talking to them whisper something in the ear of their neighbour, and how this kept repeating as they walked down the road. As she turned to see the reactions of the beings around them she wished she could take the time to gape at all the crazy stuff. There was a giant ass tank with a giant ass glowing and mean looking octopus wearing a tophat that suddenly pulled all his limbs into a little ball and tried to hide behind his tophat . 

“-but who would be this stupid ?” asked a green girl with wings, fluttering agitatedly around her equally colourful friends. Crystal was calling her fairy for now and save the terminology for another day.

  “...yeah, probably someone new…” a sinister matronly ghost whispered to the man next to her, fussing over her wares.

“-ou think we’ll have another Bog Witch situation?” asked a… spooky talking tree?? Everyone that heard him shivered in unison. 

“ -uck, I hope not. That’d be…horrific.” answered the black cat with the equally black kittens.

Seeing as Edwin had gotten ahead of her anyways, she turned around to question the cat. That was the creature she was most used to, even if they were usually very rude.

“What ‘Bog Witch situation’?” she asked, intrigued. 

“Shhh!” The kittens shushed her in unison, eyes wide. They all hurried to hide behind their mother.

“You don’t know about the Bog Witch?” the cat asked, tilting her head.

“ What Bog Witch?”

“Exactly!” the green fairy answered, nodding. 

“No, really. What Bog Witch? And why is she so important?” Crystal was starting to lose her patience. There was a very awkward pause. “I’m new to this supernatural shit, alright? Is it some sort of legend or lore I don’t know about? Does it have anything to do with Edwin?”

“... it’s more like an urban legend. About what happened to her.” whispered a goth human boy. She assumed he was either a psychic or a warlock. He kept looking around, like Edwin would suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

“More like what that boy did to her.” muttered the ghost of a firefighter. 

“It’s not like it wasn’t deserved.” defended the matronly ghost.

“And what happened to her? Did Edwin… kill her?”Crystal asked, apprehensive.

“Oh, no.” the boy snorted. She relaxed slightly. “ Way worse. He erased her from existence. She and her Bog.”

“Which was an overreaction, in my opinion.” added the tree. 

“Erased her from existence…? That can happen? Wouldn’t people notice a whole ecosystem disappearing one day to the next?”

“Not in this case. When we say he ‘erased her from existence’ we mean completely . There are no traces, no records, no memories of them. Us supernatural creatures are the only ones that remember the Witch or the Bog.” Explained the fairy.

“Only faint traces, tho.” The firefighter added. “I assume as a warning.”

“You assume correctly.” Edwin stated, suddenly at her side. Everyone jumped back and quickly scampered away. He grabbed her arm and began leading her back down the road.

“Wait, wait, wait.” she said, stopping. Edwin sighed loudly and turned around, one eyebrow raised. “A warning about what?” she asked.

“About what I am willing to do to get Charles back. There are not many things that fall outside that list.” Crystal shook her head, incredulous.

Before she could question him further Edwin turned around snarling and grabbed a ghost by the shoulder, slamming him against the wall with a single hand. Said ghost was a guy, maybe in his thirties, and looked like the cartoon of a dealer, big brown trench coat and everything.

“Trying to avoid me, Garreth?” Edwin asked.

“Look, kid-”the man started, before yelping as said boy pressed his thumb deep into his clavicle. “Wait, wait-! Whatever you need, okay? I wasn’t sure I’d have what you wanted-”

“I need some truth spells talismans.” Edwin interrupted him. “I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for them.”

“ Truth spells ? I’m afraid I can’t help you there, mate. You know they are incredibly hard to come by-”

“I do. Which is why I know only you would have them tonight.”

“I’m sorry, lad, but-”

“I’ll trade you the immersive copy of the Kamasutra you always try to get your paws on.” The man’s eyes darkened immediately, but he shook his head.

“ Very tempting offer but-”

“Or I can just steal your coat and slice it open until it spills everything you have in there.” Edwin extended his free hand, and swallowing, Crystal put the knife he had given her earlier in it.  

“I’ll take it! Of course I will.” Edwin backed off to let him search the inside pockets of his trench then. “I was planning on using it on my lass, but fuck it. These birds can’t mouth off, can they?” he said, licking his lips. 

Crystal saw Edwin’s shoulders tense in disgust, but knew he couldn’t grimace; so she grimaced for both of them. Garreth finally took a single sheet of paper and gave it to them.

“It’s the only one I’ve got!” he defended himself at their unimpressed looks. “The wife is tricky, alright? Can never get her with these…”he mumbled. 

Edwin inhaled deeply and took a book from inside his own pocket, waving it in front of the man. 

“Holy oil, then, for the rest of it.”

“Hey-!”

“I can always give you just half the book and you can see if it still functions as intended.” he threatened.

“Fine, fine!” the man conceded. “Jeez.” He took a little clay pot from another pocket, tapping the waxed seal as he handed it over. “Straight from Jerusalem.” 

Edwin pressed the book against Garreth’s chest and turned around, pocketing the talisman and the oil. They both began walking, ignoring the wet sounds as the man licked his lips over and over.

They also ignored the way the rest of the beings in the Obscure Mart hunched over, some even hiding under their tables. On the corner of her eye she saw the octopus still in a little ball, just with ink spilled around it. As they left the market and arrived at the normal alley, Crystal stopped Edwin with a hand on his arm.  

“This isn’t like you, Edwin.” she said, softly. “This…brute force? The constant threat of violence? It’s like…”

“I’m Charles?” he finished, sarcastic. “We are not so different in our devotion as it might seem, Crystal.”

“I don’t buy that.” she said. Edwin let out a dry chuckle. “He’s our friend, but-”

“Crystal, you've seen him without me. You have never seen me without him .” he interrupted, eyes stone cold. “I know you think you know how our dynamic works. You think I keep him contained when I’m around, don’t you? Leashed , as some would say?” he smiled, and it was terrifying.  “Oh, dear Crystal....You have got no clue how savage I can be in the shadow of his absence.” 

Crystal took a step back, and Edwin seemed to become smaller. He turned his back on her and rubbed his hand all over his face. 

“I don’t like what I become when he’s threatened, Crystal.” he admitted, looking at the sky. “I’m aware that I can be quite brutal, and that regret is not in my vocabulary when these things happen.” He inhaled. “But this is the only way I know to get him back.”

“Edwin…” she whispered, tearing up.

“He’s always protecting me , saving me . Just yesterday he got injured and distracted because I couldn’t defend myself. Now I have to be strong for the both of us, and be tough enough to do whatever is necessary to save him.” 

Edwin wiped off a teardrop from his cheek, but more just kept falling. Crystal thought ‘Fuck it, they are my boys and I’m not about to lose either one of them’ and hugged him tight. Surprising her, Edwin hugged her back.

“I can’t lose him, Crystal, I can’t .” he whispered, voice trembling. “If you can’t stomach my methods I don’t blame you, but-”

“No, no. ” she interrupted him. “This is for our friend, and as long as you don’t hurt anyone innocent-”

“I promise.” Edwin said. 

“Then you do whatever you need to do to find him.” They separated and smiled weakly at each other, wiping the wetness off their faces. “Now, c’mon, we have a perv ghost to find.”

—-- —-- —--  

—- —-- —--

After finishing the holy oil circle and doing the tracking spell, they had an address. They found their perverted ghost perving on some girls in a club’s bathroom downtown, of course. Crystal setted off the fire alarm so that the bar emptied as Edwin surprised the man. As soon as she saw them disappear through the surface, she turned around and left. Fortunately it was the middle of the week, so her Uber should get to their location quickly enough.

Edwin pushed the ghost through the mirror with a surge of magic, right into the warehouse’s trap. The circle of holy fire was already alight. Edwin quickly followed suit and broke the mirror to prevent an escape. While getting iron shackles to bound the other ghost with, the man shook off the effects of the spell and got up. 

“You again, little boy?” he mocked. “Didn’t get enough of this, did you?” he laughed as he threw a marked stone at Edwin. The boy knocked the stone off course with the chain, and took advantage of the extended arm to get the cuff around it. “ Bloody hell !” the man cursed, trying to shake the metal burning him loose. He desperately patted his pockets with his other arm, trying to reach another stone loaded spell. “Why isn’t this burning you!? ” he yelled.

“It is.” Edwin answered, before reciting an incantation in Latin. “I just don’t care.” He let go of one of the chains as it seemed to become alive, and sent them in the direction of the other ghost. 

The man dodged and tried to run, but Edwin pulled from the chain already around his arm and he fell to the floor. The enchanted chain snaked around the man until he was covered in them, then pulled both arms behind his back and locked them there. The man fell to his knees, and Edwin couldn’t stop thinking how much he looked like a worm. 

Once that was done, he waited for Crystal so she could snuff off the fire. Ignoring the snarls and the cursing, Edwin took off his notebook from his pocket and revised his notes once more. The list of questions he needed to ask hadn’t changed, but it made him feel better. 

About half an hour later, Crystal arrived. Immediately, she broke the salt circle with her shoe and snuffed the oil with the short incantation Edwin had taught her. Edwin nodded in thanks and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“I’m staying.”  

Edwin agreed to it, shighing. 

“Fuck” laughed the ghost. “The black bitch is here too? What a party!” he whooped. They both ignored him. 

Taking the talisman out of his pocket, Edwin slapped it against the other ghost’s throat. The ink burned off the paper as it transferred to the man’s skin.

“Do you know where Charles is?” was the first and most important question Edwin had. The man smirked and opened his mouth to give some bullshit answer.

“Of course I don’t, that wench gave me one job and I did it.” Instead, he answered honestly. “What was that?” he asked, alarmed. “What the fuck was that!?” he yelled as he got no response.

“What is your connection with the person that took Charles?” Edwin continued, not letting the disappointment choke him. Of course this lackey didn’t know, it would have been too easy otherwise.

The man tried to bite his lip, but it was useless. The runes glowed and he had to answer.

“That witch?” he laughs. “She was my late mate’s girl. Awesome catch, she is.”

“Why?” asked Crystal.

“Lil’ bit hard to find a bitch that knows how to enjoy herself, huh?” he winked at her as he licked his lips and the blood he spilled. “Hell, sometimes I think she enjoyed it more than we did.”

“...enjoyed what?” asked Edwin, confused. The man laughed as the runes glowed, head thrown back.

“All the girls and boys we completely destroyed.” He said, proudly. Both teens froze . “Fuck, we had such a good run too! There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do, wouldn’t get, for him. Chains, chain saws ? Done. Knives, blowtorches, pliers? Easy. Even got us a speculum once.” he kept on, a sickening longing look on his face. “That was…a hell of a week.”

“Stop.” said Edwin, feeling nauseous. Fortunately, the runes glowed after that command too, rendering the man silent. While the other ghost silently laughed at them, Edwin checked on Crystal. She nodded at him to continue, swallowing. 

“What happened to your…friend?” The man bit his tongue again, but the words kept coming.

“I told you, didn’t I? He died. We both did. Went in a fucking gaze of glory.”

“The police killed you.” Edwin stated. “I don’t remember anything about them stopping a pair of…serial rapists.”

“Oi, have some respect for our skills, we also killed them.” he laughed again at their faces. ”And the pigs never found out!” he howled. “Thought we were just robbers, didn't they?”

The fact that these two monsters were still undiscovered sat like lead on the teens' stomachs. They looked at each other and nodded at the same time. They would get the names of the victims, try and give their families some closure. (Make sure those poor souls went to rest in Heaven.)

“And where is your friend now? Is he working with the witch?” Edwin asked. He lasted longer this time, a trickle of blood getting to his chin. 

“Nah. I saw him get dragged down by something inside a red light, didn’t I? So I ran. Ran back to our flat, and there I found her. Turned out the shite she spouted about energies and magic and whatever bollocks was true.” He shook his head and tilted it to the side, leaving it there.

“And then what happened? What does she want with Charles?” As the rapist’s ghost bit his tongue, the blood finally reached the runes, and cut through them. They glowed once, twice and then dulled. “No!” Edwing screamed. “What does she want with Charles!?”

The other ghost just kept laughing. 

“What are you gonna do now, little boy!? All outta spells already!?” he mocked. He spat on the floor and looked at them with a predatory smile that centred on Crystal. “If you want to hear me talk so much, I can sure tell you what I’d do to this black wench.” He licked his teeth. “Usually my tastes aren’t so exotic , but I’ll make an exception for you, birdie. You look…just so -” he’s interrupted by said ‘birdie’ kicking him in the balls. He wheezed, still laughing.

Edwin, very calmly, walked Crystal back a few steps and stood in front of her, so she wouldn’t have to see that monster’s face.

“It seems I will be extracting the information physically.” he stated, taking off his coat. “You should leave, Crystal.” he said as he took an ornate dagger from his pocket.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…read him?” she asked, wanting nothing more than leave this place where this monster felt so fucking comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to read this fucking jerk and fill her head with the horrors he had committed, but she would if Edwin couldn’t do it.

“It’s not necessary-” he started.

“Yeah!” the man screamed behind them. “Sure you don’t want her to do this?” he laughed. “Your iron knives don’t scare me, boy.”

Edwin lifted an eyebrow in question to Crystal and she nodded. She started walking away as he turned around and smiled at the bound man.

“Oh, this isn’t iron.” he said, clicking his tongue. Edwin waited until the sound of the door closing before continuing. “This is cursed silver . This is not just going to burn you. This is going to ground you in your body in a way you haven’t felt since the day you died.” He carefully traced the edge of the man’s right eye with the blade. “And then, it’s going to turn each and every one of those sensations into agony .” He laughed. The other ghost swallowed, paling. 

“You think I can’t take a little bit of pain?” he still asked, full of bravado.

“ You took my partner away from me .” Edwin snarled. “Do you think I’m only going to inflict a little bit of pain on you?”  

“You wouldn’t.” he objected “You’re not corrupt enough.” the man stated, trying to sound certain but looking wearily at the blade.

“Haven’t you heard? I spent 73 years in Hell.” He slowly walked around the bound ghost, to stop behind him and whisper. “And among my own suffering, I learned many, many things there.” Edwin took off his gloves and let them fall to the floor one by one as he kept walking.

“How to unmake someone apart piece by piece is just one of the lessons.” He caught the terrified gaze of the rapist ghost. “I bet you think you know all about that, don’t you?” He stopped and looked him dead in the eyes. “Only you never had the chance to do it all over again. And again. And again .  So why don’t you let me show you?”

—-- —-- —-- 

Crystal walked outside feeling defeated. She hated it, but she thought that perhaps Edwin would not be able to do it, after the talk they had earlier. And then she would have to read that disgusting mind. She jumped on top of a pile of pallets and shoved her headphones on her head, putting on a metal playlist, just in case.

Not too early, either.

Some really ear-shattering screams begin a few minutes after she leaves. She tried very, very hard to convince herself the screams she heard were coming from the artists.

—-- —-- —-- 

By the time the screams had turned into choked whimpers, hours had passed. Crystal had resorted to putting on her headphones and turning her music to the highest volume, to ignore it. She knew the man inside was the worst kind of scum on this Earth, but he was still a person. He deserved to be punished for all he had done before and what he had done to Charles. This was all for information, she kept telling herself. She would do a lot of things not to lose another friend.

As Edwin walked out of the warehouse, just in his vest and shirt, she noticed he was… covered in blood would be an overstatement, but not by much. His sleeves were dyed red in places and his bare hands were bright pink. As he approached her, he did a movement with one of his hands and the same black smoke she had seen earlier as they did the tracking spell cleaned it all up, almost… devouring the blood he had had on his person.

“You learned anything useful?” she asked, hopeful.

“Yes, rather.” Edwin answered, before his coat wrapped him up and he fixed his gloves. “We should be going, though, we have no time to lose.”

“What? Why?” Crystal said as she jumped down the pallets she had been sitting on to follow him. Red light spilling from the broken windows of the building was her answer. “He’s moving on? Why?” she asked, completely baffled, as she reached his side. The dude had seen his rapist BFF being dragged down to Hell.

“I…convinced him that it was in his best interest to not be within my reach when this case is through. I suppose he thought his chances of surviving Hell are greater than his chances of surviving me .” 

She swallowed a few times, shocked. Noticing she had stopped, Edwin turned around.

“Shall we, Crystal?” he asked, eyebrow lifting.

[idolatrybarbie]

pairing: marcus pike x fem!reader

word count & rating: 3.9k | explicit - minor free zone!

summary: you wish marcus a happy thirty-sixth birthday. the sequel to two lonely people.

warnings: social isolation, self doubt, anxiety, themes of alienation, light angst, fluff, marcus has the cutest stretch marks and freckles, reader is described as same height and/or shorter than marcus, smut - mentions of intercrural sex, cum eating, grinding, handjob, sex toys, praise kink, exhibitionism, nipple play, vibrator play, cuddling(!!!).

notes: wrote this sporadically throughout my weekend away, shout-out to sima for letting me blab on and on about pedro boy porn. truly in my marcus era, i am a man possessed. these sex toys [x] [x] are also real! in case you were curious.

Bender stretches out on the couch beside you, his long and lanky body bowing low. His hairy belly brushes against the fabric of the cushion when you scratch beneath his chin. The mission of an early afternoon nap has been well accomplished. You push yourself into a sitting position, letting Bender jump to the carpet and stroll away. The grey-white of the cushions contrasts the red of the walls perfectly; in another life, Marcus must have been an interior designer.

You watch your cat—yes, yours—settle atop the orange loveseat across from you, dotted with crimson and tangerine throw pillows. Everything inside Marcus’ place is so rich and vibrant, a constant splash of colour no matter where you look. It makes you feel good to be here, like you belong. Every night spent across the street from your own home feels like a glorious field trip.

You've been coming around for four months, and Marcus has never turned you away. He's your boyfriend now, a label and structure that hasn't existed in your life for what felt like aeons. You've had to modify your habits a little bit—boyfriends get worried when you don't text or show for four days. They show up at your front door ready to call someone—a hospital or an ambulance, or your mother, god forbid.

It has been more difficult to adjust than you thought it would be. As it turns out, once you live a life of solitude, incorporating people back into it is a little like pulling teeth. It’s not that you don't like it, crave that contact. You simply don't think of it. You don't take into consideration whether or not Marcus is missing you because that feels like a little too much. Too much thought from another thrown your way, too much care about you as a person.

You're finding that Marcus almost strictly operates in the realm of too much. Too much time, too much attention dedicated to you. It's a seed of guilt that you've swallowed. The feeling has rooted itself in your chest, stringy vines encircling your lungs. Surely he has something better to do: work, maybe, or visit family and friends. But he seems to want to spend almost every night with you.

You watch movies, chat dinner plans, fuck—though it doesn't really feel like fucking. Marcus brings sweetness to your tender care, delivering praise to each of your soft touches. You love learning his body. The glow in his eyes when he makes you feel good could light the night sky, you're sure of it.

Time with him injects a new type of levity into your life that animals can't bring. Even with Bender as your own now, after Anne-Marie admitted to you his care was too much for her to handle, Marcus brings a presence to your life that makes you feel a little more assured. It's cliché, but it's true.

Tonight, you're waiting for him to come home from a late shift at work. No pet clients this week, you’ve been making yourself comfortable at Pike’s place for the past few days—since that fateful evening he knocked on your door, presuming you dead or worse.

Earlier, you texted him asking when he'd be home and almost dropped your phone. Home. Marcus hadn’t seemed to notice, but the message stopped you short. Maybe you’re a little too comfortable.

Later than I’d like, he’d replied.

His guesstimate was closer to bedtime than dinner. You told him not to worry; you’d still be here waiting. It's his birthday, after all. You are determined to celebrate, even if it's after a long day of catching criminals.

You’ve got a whole thing prepared. A silver birthday banner hanging above the kitchen entryway, his gift on the coffee table. And dinner, of course: chupe and warm bread for dipping, along with sopapillas and ice cream cake for dessert. You've never put so much effort into something like this for another person—never gotten the chance to.

Picking his gift was probably the hardest part of the process. You'd bugged Marcus over and over about an online wishlist. Anything that he needed for his place, any wants. His answer was always the same, eliciting an eye roll every time: you.

“You can't gift a person,” is always your counter, to which the man wholeheartedly disagrees. He has everything he wants; a feeling you cannot understand. Everything he wants and all he seems to want is you.

When Marcus makes it through his front door, the sky is dark. You’re asleep again, body laid across the couch as Bender sits in a comfy loaf across your ribs and diaphragm. His purring moves through your chest, keeping you warm without a blanket. The peaceful scene is disrupted when Marcus drops his bag to the floor a little too loud, waking you. It’s less of a slow, sleepy roll and more of a sharp gasp. The intake scares the cat, Bender leaping from you. He lands on the floor easily.

“Marcus,” you sigh.

“It’s me!” he smiles, his tone one of mock celebration.

“I fell asleep.” An astute observation on your part, you rub the sleep from your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Marcus approaches the couch, holding a hand out to help you stand. You take it, pulling yourself up with his weight as an anchor. He manages to get you into the hold of his arms before you realize, giving you a warm hug. He’s a little sweaty today, salt mixing in with natural sweetness at the collar of his shirt.

“Don’t be sorry,” Marcus says.

You start to move, readjusting the huddle of two so he’s at least facing the strung up banner. “Happy birthday,” you whisper. “I made dinner.”

He hums against your cheek. “All this for little ol’ me?”

“Yes,” you say. “And dessert. And a gift.” You nod at the coffee table, like he can even see you with his chin over your shoulder.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Marcus says.

“I already did. And I wanted to, so it’s done. Come on.” You squeeze your arms around him. “Let’s eat.”

You sit him down at the table, not letting Marcus lift a finger as you bring out two bowls. The shrimp stew has been on the stove, simmering at a low temperature since you finished cooking. You bring the pot out of the kitchen and set it on a cork trivet. When he looks past the lip of the pot, Marcus’ face splits into a disbelieving smile.

“I could kiss you right now,” he says, ass hovering from his chair.

“Sit. You can kiss me later.” You ladle chupe into Marcus’ bowl, then your own. “Shit, spoons. Just a second.” Getting up again, Marcus catches your wrist as you pass the side of the table.

“Honey,” he says.

“I’ll just be a second.”

“You’re doing too much.”

“I’m not,” you insist. “I—can I…”

Your eyes tell it better than your words can, staring down at him. Please let me do this for you. Marcus lets you go, and you return a minute later with a pair of spoons.

You sit down at the table. Marcus simply stares at you. You start to smile before twisting your lips, looking down at your bowl.

“What?” you ask. When he doesn’t say anything, you repeat yourself.

“Nothing.” Marcus shakes his head.

“There’s something.”

“You. You’re just…incredible.”

You shrug. “I wanted to do something a little bit special. I know it’s not a super big deal—”

“The woman who has a freezer stocked with heat-and-eat lasagna made me chupe.”

“Sopapillas, too. They’re in the microwave.”

“And sopapillas. This is such a big deal,” Marcus says.

You hate to admit it, but your heart swells. This is such a big deal. God, you really do lo—

Marcus watches you expectantly, like he's just asked a question. You have no idea what he said. Instead you smile and nod. Then you dip your spoon into the food.

Watching him eat is the best part. Every bite is a reaction, seeing the flavours splash over his tongue turning into something of a spectator sport. Marcus takes seconds but declines a third helping, obediently letting you clean up from dinner and bring out the aforementioned fried dough pouches.

In central Chile, they make sopapillas with pumpkin—in the north, that's not so much the case. Marcus has told you where his family is from, Arica, right near the border with Peru. Part of your disappearing act last week had to do with the last round of research and planning for tonight. By the time you’d nailed the recipe, you’d gotten caught up in looking at maps and learning the country’s history.

“I know it's not one hundred percent,” you say, referring to the food. “Not too sure if I cooked the sauce long enough.”

The cinnamon syrup was the difficult part of the cooking operation. Unsure if Marcus would like a thicker or thinner consistency, you spooned in corn syrup ‘til the liquid took on a half-runny, half-gloopy viscosity.

Marcus speaks with his mouth still full. “It's fucking delicious.” He cuts himself off at three, promising to finish the rest for breakfast.

You scoot away to the kitchen for the final time tonight, taking the ice cream cake out of the fridge. Admittedly, you got a little carried away with it. Ninety dollars on a cake sounds like highway robbery, but it's worth it for the look on his face.

As you set the cake down on the table before him, Marcus looks at a perfectly printed image of his own dopey grin. Jutting out from his mouth is a speech bubble made of icing and carefully placed fondant. He's wishing himself a happy birthday.

You stand by his shoulder, watching his expression. He seems to be stuck halfway between amazement and amusement; just what you wanted. When he joins you on his feet, it's to kiss you—long, deep, and slow. You lean into it, into him, his soft strength supporting you as Marcus caresses your upper arm. Then he grabs your elbow, gently placing each forearm at his sides to cage him in. You hear Bender more than see him, feeling him rub his head against your shin.

“This is the best birthday ever,” Marcus says.

“Including or ignoring that you’re four years out from fourty?” you ask.

His nose brushes against yours. “Don't be a smartass,” he breathes, voice all play.

You both only take a small slice of the cake, bellies full of your homemade dinner. You won't be telling Marcus about the trial batches of shrimp stew that were ultimately fed to the dogs in your care, woefully forgotten as you added another bag of the fresh shellfish to your grocery order.

When you're finished, you start to clear the table. Marcus insists on helping at this part, leaving no room for discussion when he plucks the stack of bowls and spoons from your hands. You wrap the cake and put it back in the fridge, along with the chupe and sopapillas, both in airtight containers. Marcus washes as you dry, navigating his kitchen like an expert when you go to put things away. Well, not like an expert—you are one. After today, you can run this room blindfolded.

When all is said and done, Marcus leans you against the kitchen counter. He plants a kiss to your cheek, slowly heading southbound to your jaw, then your neck.

You giggle as he reaches the soft skin of your throat. “Still got your present waiting for you.”

“You're right here,” he says.

“Hardy har,” you intone. Pushing at his shoulders, Marcus lets up. “On the coffee table.”

He takes the lead back to the living room, sitting on his couch to eye the sleek black box that awaits him. You can't sit, running a thumb over your lips as Marcus takes the gift in his hands. He shakes it, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You're killing me here, Pike.”

“I'm appreciating the fine cardboard craftsmanship,” he says of the box. As much artisanal handiwork as the dollar store gift aisle can grant you, anyway.

Finally, Marcus lifts the lid from the box. On a soft pillow of red and white tissue paper lies the three things you got him, as well as a small card. You watch him take one of the gifts from the box, squeezing it. Nerves claw at your stomach. He takes his time to analyze it, flip it over and flip it again in his hand.

“This is cool,” he says, almost absentmindedly. Then to you, “These stress toys?”

That anxious cord inside snaps, taking you down with it. You're in free fall as your skin goes warm with embarrassment, your palms the only thing shielding you from the world.

“No,” you sigh softly.

It's a shitty gift. That much is clear when he can't even tell what it is. You should have stuck with something simple, like a bookstore gift card. But no, you had to go out on a whim.

Marcus asks if you're okay, words laced with tender concern. You take three seconds to recompose yourself and prepare for what comes next. Pulling a mask together, your hands come away from your face.

“They're, um—well. They're sex toys. Grinding toys made of silicone to…” You clear your throat. “Those are soft... The other one is sort of a vibrator.” Marcus follows your words, looking down at the small green device. “It was a bad gift idea. I thought you would like ‘em.”

If you click your heels three times, will the universe grant you mercy and travel you home? Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, you swallow the knot in your throat. Opening them again, your boyfriend is still here. No dice.

He stands, bringing the box with him. You take a seat on the loveseat, letting him join you. As much as you want to curl inwards and die, for a lack of better words, Marcus will want to talk about it. Understand.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” you return. Looking at him makes it hard to retreat into yourself.

“It's a great gift.”

“You don't have to say that.”

“I mean it,” he insists. “This is good.”

Watching his thick fingers rub over the meat of the toy should not turn you on as much as it does, a low simmer between your legs. The soft ridges of the floppy one in his hand look a little Georgia O’Keefe; the lines of an abstract vulva. You stop yourself from picturing that hand by your thighs, cupping you where you want Marcus the most.

“I figured because you like to grind on me, this might add something more to it. Just for fun,” you shrug.

Like to is an understatement. If observing Marcus Pike is a competitive display, when it comes to grinding, you're going pro. In bed, he rubs his cock against you—your thighs, your ass, your chest—and against the sheets. He's very into intercrural, first showing you a video of the act on the night of your two month anniversary before putting yourselves to the test.

His favourite, though, is to rub against the top of your thigh as you make out and watch him. He likes the attention, and you love giving it to him. When Marcus finishes, he lets you feed him his cum with the pads of your fingers.

He kisses you softly now, hand at your cheek as he rubs the skin close to your ear.

“It's a great fuckin’ gift,” Marcus assures you. “Just needed the clue in.”

“You don't have to reassure me,” you say, shaking your head. You hate when this happens. Tonight is about him, and suddenly it's your emotions taking centre stage. Sometimes it feels like you take up all the air in the room.

“I want to,” Marcus says.

He wants to. You could melt.

“Did you want to try them?” you ask. “The toys?”

“Please.” He nods in the direction of the stairs, prompting you to lead the way.

You take Marcus by the hand, leading the way as he follows you up to his bedroom. In the months of being together, the rush to the bed has dissipated. Neither of you are any less eager, but you know now that Marcus isn't going anywhere. There is a sense of security here that you haven't ever felt before.

When you cross the threshold of the room, you take your time with undressing him. It's an unwrapping of sorts. The buttons of his shirt come away easily, sliding off Marcus’ shoulders to the floor. Next is his belt, clinking lightly as you reach down and pull the leather strap from his waist. He takes his pants and boxers off for you, leaving the man in the nude.

You leave yourself a moment to simply look. Taking him in with your eyes, you smile. Who has blessed you with such a beautiful, understanding man and how can you ever repay them? The heat of his body pressed against the skin bared by your rolled up sleeves makes you shiver. You want forever to hold him. Have him be yours.

Cool fingers run across Marcus’ bare hip. You trace the marks of thinned skin near his waist. He watches you carefully, breath held. You blow air against his lips before kissing him hungrily. Like this, you can taste him: vanilla ice cream and butterscotch.

Pulling him to the bed, you let him get comfortable. Marcus has left the box of toys on the nightstand. You leave them for now, straddling his thighs before you take his dick in your hand. He’s all warm and smooth against your palm, the ridge of a vein pressing against your thumb.

Marcus sucks in a small gasp as you start to move your hand. He gently takes hold of the base of your skull, resting your forehead to his. He looks at you, unblinking. The two of you are caught in a bit of a staring contest; you never want to pull your eyes away from his beautiful face. Those full lips pout for you, forming something like your name in precious whispers.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” you say. “I love you.” Marcus’ eyes roll to the back of his skull, his hips tilting further up into your touch.

This man is the sun to your stars. You don’t quite orbit each other, but he makes you feel that much brighter. You two are cut from the same cloth; scorching infernos no one ever truly gets to see, not quite within the grasp of others. But here, it’s different. A focused fire meets an exploding astral scatter.

“You’re always so good to me, Marcus,” you whisper. “I’m so lucky.”

“Fuck, you’re so—god.” He doesn’t get much more coherent.

You reach for the toys with your free hand, distracting him with gentle kisses across the constellations that dot his chest. A thousand tiny sun spots beneath the plush of your lips. You could stay here forever, feeling his skin against you.

First, you start with the soft silicone toy without the vibe. You squeeze it in your hand to warm it up, then bring it close to Marcus.

“Can I touch you with this?”

“Please,” he nods.

You take it into the hand already in contact with his cock, sliding the toy against him slowly. Marcus groans, tipping his head back. His eyes close briefly before flying back open.

Immediately, you stop what you are doing. “You alright?”

“You’re still fully dressed.” He speaks as if he’s just realized the situation at hand.

You simply nod. “Yeah.”

“Would you wanna…” Marcus glances down at his naked body.

“Tonight is about you,” you say.

“Well, I want you to. If you want to.”

You’ve been ignoring the tacky feeling in your underwear, letting the seam of your pants do the work for you as you watch Marcus.

“Okay.”

You let Marcus undress you, pressing pause on sex. His hands rove over you as he peels the shirt from your skin, making quick work of everything below the waist. He settles your cunt over his cock, gliding you forward and back with his hands. You take in a breath, reveling in the slide against your clit. When Marcus lifts his hips just so, you moan. You use his shoulders as a hold, balancing to stay upright.

Taking the silicone toy, you place it between his pelvis and the length of his dick. Then you hover over the underside of him once again. When you sit down, pussy slick against his length, Marcus huffs out a desperate groan. You grind against him, giving him friction at either side.

“Feels so fucking good,” Marcus says. “I…you’re so fucking warm. Wet.”

“Yeah? That’s what you do to me. So sweet, such a good man,” you say. His hands come to rest at your hips again. “Wanna flip me over?”

Marcus nods, readjusting so that he’s overtop of you now. He slots the toy between the crux of skin at your thigh, grinding against it as he presses light touches to your clit. Focused on his pleasure, he keeps his eyes closed as he ruts into you. Marcus kisses you as he cums, stickiness painting your skin.

He travels down your body with his mouth, trailing lips and tongue across your collarbone. Marcus licks at your left nipple before he latches onto it. Your spine pulls taut as you cup his head to your breast, petting his hair in encouragement. When he leaves your chest, he moves straight to the cum against your skin. As you watch him lick it off the front of your hip, you’re sure that you have died and gone to heaven.

Marcus laves his tongue over the skin between your belly and pelvis, watching for your reaction. He leaves your body for only a moment. When he comes into focus again, he’s holding the green vibrating toy in his hand.

Turning it on, he asks, “Is this okay?” as he presses it to your pubic bone.

You nod, an mhm coming out more like a slight whine.

He moves it lower and lower, tracing the tip of the pear-shaped device around your wetness.

“Where do you want it?” The question is playfully facetious; he knows exactly where you want it.

“Marcus, please,” you sigh.

He hums, nose inches above your soft and swollen cunt. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.”

Marcus presses the toy against you, the round and squishy body subtly buzzing against your cunt as the tip delivers a direct point of pressure to your clit. He shifts it every few moments, the readjustments pushing you further and faster towards the edge. It’s the kiss that does it for you, tender as he cradles the side of your face with his large hand. The caress of his ring finger against your cheek cuts the cord, your orgasm rocking your body like volts of electricity.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” he murmurs. Marcus turns the toy off, releasing you from the overwhelming waves of pleasure. Cradling your back to his front, he kisses the crown of your head.

“I love you too, y’know,” Marcus says.

“Hm?” You shift in his arms, looking at him now. “What did you say?”

The way you bat your eyes at him tells Marcus that you heard him perfectly fine. He shakes his head with a light chuckle. “I said—”

“I love you.” You steal the words from him the same way he’s taken your heart.

Marcus Pike is many things: your neighbour, your boyfriend. A lover and a thief. He’s offered up his guts to you so easily, your prize for taking a chance. This man is a gift. A teacher. You're re-learning what it's like to have someone be there. To live and feel the art of giving.

[eggcompany]

Corner Store Peepshow

Adam was a creature of habit. Good or Bad. He liked getting up and eating breakfast and doing his chores and sitting under his window and watching his neighbor Mister jerk off. He liked using his toys and cumming with Mister or watching Mister have sex or smoke. That is until he met mister and they started playing a game. And the Mister stopped playing.

Adam can't say no when Nigel offers to show him how much he's missed the little angel.

Adam liked his new apartment. He liked being on the fourth floor, he liked that he had blue walls, he liked that the bathroom had a window by the shower, he liked the wood floors, he liked the fact he could sit in the kitchen and see the street and go to his bedroom and see the apartments next door. 

He really liked seeing the apartments next door. He liked that the building next door was a little shorter, the windows slightly lower than his own. He liked that the man who lived in the apartment which had windows facing Adam’s was very very attractive. And often naked or mostly so. 

Adam was a creature of habit. It was just who he was. He was designed for habits. Good or Bad. Personally he didn’t think it was a bad habit to sit on his little blue area rug by the window and touch himself to the older man across the way. He liked when he came home from working at the theater, running the projector and fixing the machines, the man was usually standing outside smoking. Adam didn’t speak to him, it was rude to interrupt someone. But he certainly looked . The man whom he often just called Mister, was tall and tan and had big strong hands. Adam liked those hands, always thought they looked strong and sure. 

The first time was the best, in Adam’s opinion. He’d been watching Mister walk around his flat for a few weeks. He’d noticed all the funny little things the man did. The way Mister often brought home girls who were very drunk and had sex on the couch or even on the floor, the way Mister liked to drink bottles of beer but cans of something else, and the way he paces when he talks on the phone. Adam thought it was calming to watch Mister pace by the window. 

But then Mister started sitting on the couch right where Adam could see, and jerking off. It had been late one night, it was a Tuesday, Adam was sitting by his window reading a new book he’d found. He wasn’t looking at Mister's apartment… he just glanced over and Mister was there, big cock in his hand, head thrown back, it was beautiful. Adam couldn’t help but reach down and rub himself over top of his pajama pants, hot and needy. After that first orgasm Adam felt good and happy. Surely Mister did too by the amount of cum that had spilled over his fist. 

Adam liked his new place. He liked his neighbor. He liked his new routine. 

-0-0-0-0-

Nigel liked the new flat. It was fine. Good deadbolts, warm, window didn’t leak, neighbors didn’t bother him, and the window that looked out to the alley was dead on with a brick wall. Perfect. He could walk around comfortably. Comfortable to Nigel meant naked. So he didn’t bother putting on clothes before he had to. He threw on whatever pair of pants was the cleanest, forgoing underwear, and whatever shirt was closest when he wanted to go out and smoke. 

He liked that no one bothered him when he had a smoke before heading to the strip club he was security at. He also liked watching the people come and go. Especially the little doll that lived next door. He was fucking beautiful, pale, short, mop of curly hair, ocean blue eyes, and a cute little ass that filled out his slacks nicely. He liked pretending not to notice when the boy stared at him, only catching the boy’s eyes for a moment before he was scurrying away from Nigel and his smoke. He liked noticing that the boy never walked with anyone or talked to anyone or was with anyone. Alone in his apartment, Nigel grinned about it, at least he knew the boy was old enough to have his own apartment. Legal. 

-0-0-0-0-

One rainy day their paths finally ran right into each other. Well Adam ran right into Nigel at the corner store by the apartments. Adam immediately started picking up his stack of frozen meals and his copy of Sky & Telescope Magazine, getting on his knees on the wet and muddy floor. 

“I’m sorry I had them stacked up too tall, I’m sorry Sir” Adam started apologizing as he restacked the meals, making sure they were all facing the same way. 

“It’s alright, baby, here, allow me” Nigel said coolly and reached down, picking up the stacks of meals and setting them back on the counter. 

“I wasn’t watching where I was going, I should be more careful. I don’t want to accidentally open any of my food. These are all they have.” Adam said and grabbed the last few frozen meals and his magazine, now wet and wrinkling. He frowned at the booklet before turning around and marching back to the rack to get a new one. 

“You live in the apartments next to mine. I see you walking home sometimes, sweetheart.” Nigel said as Adam put his magazine on top of his meals. Adam shook his head, turning to look at Nigel’s shoulder. 

“My name’s Adam, not sweetheart. And you live in the apartment under my window and you smoke red pack cigarettes. I see you smoking when I come home and when I look out of my window I see your apartment.” Adam said and turned a pink color after remembering that morning looking into Mister’s apartment. He’d been sitting on the couch stroking himself, which happened a lot, one arm across the back of the couch, one arm working himself over. Adam got himself off, just like usual, sitting under his window, knees tucked under himself, tissue box sat on the window sill, toys pulled from the drawer. 

“You watch me through your window? You can see in my apartment?” Nigel asked, confused, he thought no one could see in. He certainly couldn’t see another window. Adam was pulling out his debit card to pay for his two bags of food, eyes flashing around, not quite landing anywhere. 

“Yes I can see it, you can see mine if you look up. The buildings are uneven, I can’t see in anyone else’s. Just yours.” Adam answered, grabbing his groceries and headed toward the door, Nigel chasing after him. 

The older man couldn’t help but smile. This cute, nerdy little guy was a peeping tom? He wondered if Adam even saw him naked, he had to have, had to have caught a glimpse at the very least. Hell he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had seen him getting off or fucking one of the little broads he brought home. 

“Peeping tom, huh? I’m sure you get quite the show then, don’t you Baby?” Nigel asked as he followed Adam through the rain, making their way back to the apartments. Adam huffed and shook his head again, he didn’t want to be called tom or baby. Those weren’t his name.  

“My name isn’t tom or baby, I am not a baby, my name is Adam.” He corrected and Nigel let out a laugh. This beauty sure was odd. Stunning though especially with the water dripping from the coils that were tightening up on his head. 

“Alright Adam, if you’re not watching me through the window then I guess we’re done. I’ll see you around, pretty boy.” Nigel said as he stopped in front of his own apartments and watched Adam walk up the few steps to his own building. 

Adam. Adam . Little Pervert. Could be fun to play with. 

-0-0-0-0-

Sure enough when Nigel stood with his nose nearly against the glass, he could see Adam’s window. He could make out a painted ceiling, stars or constellations or some shit. Cheater, Nigel thought as he dragged his lazy chair to sit under the window, giving Adam a real show. Maybe that would make the cute little thing second guess what he really wanted. Nigel liked playing with those shy types, the ones that would flaunt themselves before shying away, begging to be caught up and given a good time. 

-0-0-0-0-

Adam learned very quickly that the man next door apparently liked to touch himself a lot . Every time Adam went to the window before he went to work or during the day on the weekends, Mister was in his new chair by the window touching himself. Adam also learned that apparently Mister thought it was funny because everytime Adam came and peaked back over the window sill to see if Mister came too, he was looking up at Adam, being able to just catch Adam’s eyes. 

It made Adam feel embarrassed but also… turned on even more. Just knowing Mister knew what he was doing, knowing Mister liked what Adam was doing, knowing Mister was doing it all on purpose, it made Adam feel… special. He liked the special attention. 

Adam didn’t see Mister smoking outside much anymore though, which made him happy. Smoking was a bad habit. Yucky. He liked thinking Mister wasn’t smoking much anymore. He just felt happy knowing him and Mister had something going on. They were friends. And that made Adam feel so happy. The orgasms also made him happy. 

-0-0-0-0-

And then, one day, Mister closed his curtains. He closed them and clipped them shut and hung up blankets and made sure nothing could be seen through that window. And he kept them that way. 

Adam was sad. Touching himself with Mister had become a part of his routine. He woke up, brushed his teeth, ate breakfast, cleaned the dishes, cleaned the table, swept, and by then Mister would be in his chair by the window. But now Adam just sat by his window for 4 minutes staring at the neighbors closed curtains before moving on and getting his shower. He’d be wet and hot in his underoos by the time he’d sit by his window, his body knew his routine. It made him sad to know Mister didn’t like him anymore… or worse, he hated Adam. 

-0-0-0-0-

Nigel was going to show that little tease what it’s like. After two months of pressing his face against the cold window to catch a glimpse of Adam’s head thrown back in ecstasy, to see his hair bouncing with the effort of working himself over, to be waiting to see his eyes, satisfied and sweet, before they dash away in embarrassment, he was done. 

He felt stuck. Stuck between getting head from girls at the club and drinking himself to sleep. Stuck between trying to find a girlfriend and going out to find a man to fuck. Stuck between craving, obsessing over, needing, yearning, fucking dreaming of Adam and going without. 

He needed that soft pale skin. He needed those ocean blue eyes crying on his dick and that odd way he speaks, he needed those soft lips on his own and those quick slender hands held between his own. He needed to kiss marks down that neck, over that soft yet slim middle, those plush thighs, that tender ass. He needed it. Like a rabid dog he needed Adam. 

Either Adam was going to move on or he was going to find Nigel. It was Adam’s choice. Nigel couldn’t even withstand seeing Adam on the street anymore, feeling like dragging the boy to his apartment and fucking no matter what. It had to be up to Adam. 

-0-0-0-0-

Would have been handy to have mentioned that to Adam.

Because by day five he was distraught. He just sat by the window waiting. He thought maybe Mister was working at night so he was sleeping during the day. So he stayed up all night waiting to see if Mister was opening the curtain when he got home. But Mister never did. And Mister wasn’t smoking outside like usual. 

So Adam came to the realization that Mister must either hate him, have reported him to the police, or didn’t like men. And that hurt . He thought him and Mister had something going on. Which only made it hurt more. 

Adam didn’t like it. He liked Mister. He wanted Mister. 

-0-0-0-0-

Adam didn’t even notice the people on the stoop of the neighboring building. He was walking home, head down, bookbag strap clutched up in his hands, frown heavy on his lips. At least not until the smell of those red pack cigarettes reached his nose. 

“Mister” He breathed out and the older man was walking up to him, away from the group of foreign speaking people he’d been attached to. Nigel stopped right in front of him, eyebrow raised, waiting. His eyes… like a predator that had stumbled upon sleeping prey. 

“Mister I thought maybe you moved or or you hated me or you went to the police or or something. I’m sorry, I’ll stop if you wa-” Adam started, tears burning his eyes. Nigel held up his hand, quieting the boy. He shook his head, a pleased smile cracking across his face. 

“I thought you’d last longer. Miss seeing me that much, baby?” Nigel asked as his hand without a cigarette reached down to adjust himself in his jeans. He had to admit it had been rough without that teasing little pervert to cum for. He missed Adam’s eyes, especially the ones that were rimmed with tears staring over his shoulder right then. 

“My name’s Adam, not baby, and I missed you, Mister. I-I thought you hated me.” Adam said and wiped at his eyes with his sweater sleeve, sniffing as he did so creating a cute scrunch of his nose. Nigel huffed and moved to cradle the boy’s jaw in his hand, making him face Nigel, eye’s still cast aside, but face up. 

“Nigel, that’s my name, not Mister. Say you missed my cock, darling Adam.” Nigel said lowly, eyes watching Adam’s trembling bottom lip. Adam turned into the large warm palm on his face, soft lips grazing it as he spoke. 

“I missed you Mister Nigel, I missed seeing you, seeing your… your cock” Adam said, nervous as there were people on the sidewalk walking and the people in front of Nigel’s building. Nigel smirked as he let his thumb coast across the soft planes of Adam’s face, his cheekbones, his nose, his plush lips. 

“I’m sure you did, you little perverted doll. Do you want me to show you how much I’ve missed you ?” Nigel asked, leaning down to nuzzle at Adam’s ear, lips grazing across the boy's cheek. 

“Yes please if that includes sex.” Adam answered hoping sex would be a part of it. He liked sex. He didn’t have to often because he never really felt the need to have sex with anyone but sex with Nigel would be great. It just would be. 

Nigel couldn’t help the laugh that cracked from him. Adam was something different. A whole different animal, a different dance, it wasn’t a hunt. It was a mouse crawling into the lion’s mouth and smiling. 

“Yes, lamb, it will be sex.” Nigel said and watched Adam light up, smile spreading across his blushing face. It was fucking stunning. 

“Then we should go to my apartment, my bed doesn’t squeak and I like sex in my home, please.” Adam said and grabbed Nigel’s hand. Nigel looked down at it. Adam has little hands, smaller than his own. Cold little things with nicely trimmed nails and soft pale skin. 

“Lead the way, darling Adam.” Nigel said and Adam was confidently walking to his own building, marching up the stairs without letting go of Nigel’s hand. 

~~~~~

The older man looked around the apartment as Adam relocked the door and took his shoes off. Nigel kicked his own slip ons off, near the neat line of Adam’s shoes by the door. The apartment was neat, almost like a staged house. There was one of everything, a place made for one person. There were notebooks stacked on the kitchen table, lists on the fridge, clean floors. The bedroom door was open, Nigel peaked over into the room. Blue bedding, a striped duvet, space posters covering the walls, a desk covered in thick books and a small laptop. And a special spot under the window. 

 “Is that where you watch me? You sit on your little spot and jerk yourself off?” Nigel asked as he spotted the little nest under the window. A fluffy blue area rug with a little circular pillow that looked like a moon, there was a small side table next to it, just two drawers and a top. He stepped towards it, toeing at the edge of the carpet as Adam caught up to him, now without his sweater or belt. 

“I don’t do much jerking off. Mostly grinding.” Adam corrected and walked over to his spot. He peaked over the ledge into Nigel’s apartment, feeling a ping of happiness that Nigel wasn’t there. Nigel was in his apartment. He bent over and opened the bottom drawer, standing triumphantly beside it. Nigel smirked and looked into the drawer, shocked as soon as his eyes fell on the items inside. 

“Oh you little freak… look at this shit” Nigel said and squatted down, digging through the piles of silicone and realistic plastic. He shook his head as he took in the sheer variety of toys. Small vibrators, realistic dildos, heating dildos, brightly colored featureless shafts, large plates of texture, tie dye style things shaped like monsters or tentacles. 

“I use most of them but I usually only use two of them when I play with you. I use this one it’s- it’s my favorite grind mat and this one is my favorite to go inside.” Adam explained and grabbed two of the toys. A blue and white mat, covered in spikes with a hole through it, and a plain clear dildo about eight inches long, which Adam prompted threaded through the hole in the mat. 

He held them out, showing Nigel. It was… fuck Nigel thought it was so cute. Even with sex toys being shoved at his face, the look on Adam’s face, pride, it was so cute. Nigel couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow though, he’d seen these kinds of toys. They were to rub on. For women to rub on. 

“Aren’t these usually for women, darling?” Nigel asked and took the toys. They were surprisingly heavy in his hand as he felt the rounded spikes on the mat and the fakely veined shaft. 

“Oh I have a vagina.” Adam said plainly and watched as Nigel froze. 

“Oh… Oh .” Was all Nigel could force out as his mind melted. Adam was one of those special boys. The thoughts of Adam jerking himself off with Nigel faded from the older man’s mind and instead was replaced with images of Adam wet and desperate as he rubbed and fucked himself trying to keep up with Nigel’s own pleasure. Nigel felt himself throb in his pants, suddenly dizzy with want. 

“Will you still have sex with me? As a boy.” Adam asked, concern heavy in his voice as he took the toys from Nigel’s hands. Looking almost coy as he waited for the other man to answer. He put the toy’s back in the drawer but didn’t shut it. Nigel blinked a few times before standing back up, cradling Adam’s jaw, thumb skating across the soft skin. 

“Of course darling, you’re the same Adam. Just with a little surprise. Why don’t you lay down and show me what you’ve been hiding all this time? Hm?” Nigel suggested and Adam looked up at him, smiling. His excitement was clear on his face as he quickly pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a white tank top style binder. 

“I usually don’t take this off because people then people think my chest is ugly. Can I take it off or should I keep it on?” Adam asked and unbuttoned his slacks. Nigel shook his head and grabbed the bottom of the shirt. He’d seen some ugly tits, he was sure Adam was perfect under the thick white fabric. Nigel wanted the boy naked, and quickly. 

“Take it all off, darling, I want to see all of you. I missed you, remember, I want to show you just how much I missed all of you.” Nigel said and pulled the fabric up, pulling as Adam wiggled free. 

Fuck, Nigel thought as he watched Adam move his shoulders around. It was like he was made to be marked up. Perfect milky skin with the lightest dotting of pale freckles, a slight softness to his belly, and perfect handfuls of softness and cute little powder pink nipples. 

“That’s fucking stunning.” Nigel said and cupped Adam’s measly chest, loving how soft and supple the skin there was. He gave Adam a light squeeze, trying not to laugh at the squeak the boy let out as his knee jerked up. Adam lost his breath, looking down at Nigel’s tan hands as they massaged the incredibly sensitive flesh. 

“These are cute. Now show me what else you’ve got for me.” Nigel growled into Adam’s ear, as he gave the soft mounds one more squeeze, catching Adam’s nipples between his fingers when he pulled away. Adam cried out but shoved his pants and astronaut print briefs down his legs, kicking them away. 

Nigel looked over Adam’s body. A porcelain doll. Perfect skin, dark hair on his legs and arms, shaved armpits, trimmed pubes, soft belly, plush thighs and ass, and crystal blue eyes that were staring directly at the bulge in Nigel’s pants. 

“No wonder you hide under all those clothes. Men would be dropping dead at your feet. Lay down.” Nigel ordered and Adam smiled and laid down on his back on his bed. He moved so he was in the center of the bed, head laying on his pillow. Nigel watched as he unbuttoned his own shirt and pants, letting the shirt drop from his shoulders. He stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for Adam to spread his legs but the boy kept them shut. 

“Condoms, darling?” Nigel asked and Adam was sitting up, getting on his hands and knees to rummage through his bedside table. Nigel shoved his own pants and underwear away to get a hand on his cock as he caught sight of Adam’s soaked cunt as the boy bent over. 

“I only have two of them. I don’t like buying them.” Adam said and held two silver packets in his hand, he laid back down as Nigel crawled onto the bed. Nigel took the rubbers and set them to the side as he crawled over Adam’s body. 

“You’re big” Adam said breathlessly as Nigel’s cock laid across the boy’s hip and stomach. Nigel huffed and smiled, leaning down to kiss Adam, keeping himself with one arm as the other rubbed up and down the boy’s side. 

Adam was breathless, trembling, hips twitching up as Nigel kissed him fiercely. He wrapped his arms around the older man’s shoulders, holding on tightly, as he let out cries each time Nigel pinched his nipple or grabbed his thigh or ass. 

“So soft, so nice, good boy Adam” Nigel whispered into the blushing skin of Adam’s neck.He kissed his way down the boy’s neck, sucking dark spots across it, marking him for everyone to see, before moving down his body to suck on his nipples. Adam was screaming, hands nearly ripping the hair from Nigel’s head, he couldn’t keep his hips from bucking and jumping where they were trapped under Nigel’s torso. Adam was breathing heavily, each breath getting more chopped up as tears wet his eyes and slipped down his cheeks. 

“Mouthy, you’ll bother the neighbors, sweet Adam. Maybe I shouldn’t tease you.” Nigek finally said and planted more tongue filled kisses onto Adam who tried his best to keep up. Adam was shivering, hands grabbing onto Nigel’s arms, his shoulders, the back of neck, anywhere he could, like Nigel was his lifeline. 

“Please Mister Nigel” Adam choked out as Nigel sat up, backing away from the boy’s body. Nigel looked down at him, his blush that spilled from his cheeks down to his chest, his shaking hands, and on the way his legs spread to show the way he’d already made the blanket below him wet. 

“Fuck me, come on sweetheart” Nigel said as his brain lost the last bit of sanity it held. He ripped open one of the condoms, rolling it on quickly before leaning back over Adam who wrapped his arms around the older man's shoulders and his legs around his hips. 

Adam was looking up at Nigel, mouth open and panting, eyes rimmed red but shining blue. He was waiting for Nigel. And Nigel stared right back.

Nigel used one hand to line himself up, growling at the wet heat pouring off the boy. He bit his own lip as he pushed in wanting to enjoy Adam’s squeaky noises before the boy let out a long deeper moan once Nigel bottomed out. 

“Big” Adam bit out as he held on tighter to Nigel, they couldn’t get any closer, Adam’s face shoved into the crook of Nigel’s neck. 

Nigel let his hands dance across Adam’s smooth skin. He was un-fucking-fair. Tight, burning hot, soft, soaking wet, and breath catching in little ‘ ngh ngh ngh’ s as Nigel thrusted in and out of him with a steady rhythm. Adam held on, entire body moving with each of Nigel thrusts, high pitched cries flowing from him as Nigel speeded up, unable to hold back. 

“Adam, darling, such a good fucking doll, so wet, such a nice little fuck thing” Nigel growled out as he got close, hips slamming into the soft backs of Adam’s thighs, the noise filling up the space. Adam whined and squeezed his legs together, cunt squeezing down on Nigel in a twitchy sequence before Adam was shoving his hand down between them, cold fingers skating down their bellies until he could rub on his clit. 

“Please mister Nigel, please please please” Adam begged as his own hips began to buck around, clenching down tightly each time his fingers caught his clit in just the right way. Nigel grunted as he felt himself start to lose it, leaning down to kiss and lick at Adam’s mouth, needing a taste. 

“Cum for me Adam, fucking cum on my cock” Nigel ordered as he slammed into Adam a few times before emptying into the condom. Adam cried out, screaming as his entire body shook, jerking and jumping with the shocks of his orgasm. Nigel pulled out, quickly got rid of the full condom before running his hands over Adam’s trembling body. 

He looked at the bedside and thankfully found a box of tissues, the fancy ones with lotion. He started with Adam’s face, wiping away the tears from his closed eyes. The boy was panting, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. It was almost hypnotizing watching the boy’s small chest moving with each breath, Nigel couldn’t help but cupping one of the boy’s breasts, feeling the soft tissue move. He ran his thumb over a perky pebbled nipple before getting another tissue and cleaning himself off and then wiping away some of the mess from Adam. 

“Again?” Adam said in a slurred way, eyes all unfocused and lost. Nigel shook his head, pressing a soft kiss to Adam’s lips. 

“Not again. You’ve got your bed all messy. You wanna get a bath, darling?” Nigel explained and rubbed the soft baby hairs on the boy’s stomach. Adam hummed and smiled, nodding. 

“I don’t have a bath. I have a shower. Also I can’t walk there, my legs are all sleepy.” Adam explained and Nigel laughed. Adam was so strange. He liked it.

“I’ll go get washed up and then I can help you. You can’t sleep in this puddle of cum you’ve made, babydoll.” Nigel explained. Adam nodded and pointed toward the bathroom door. 

Soon enough Nigel was clean and back in his underwear, carrying Adam like a bride to the bathroom. And then Adam was washed, and dressed in Nigel’s button up and a clean pair of tighty whities. Soggy comforter discarded to the floor, and both men cuddled up in the darkness of Adam’s room. 

“Are we going to have sex again?” Adam asked as he was cuddled up as the little spoon, Nigel’s hand was lightly rubbing over Adam’s breasts, just enjoying them. 

“Now?” Nigel asked and thought of weather or not he could get back up. 

“Whenever you want. I like sex, I think of it all the time, especially with you. Whatever kind you want except I don’t like putting my mouth on penises, I think they feel yucky.” Adam explained plainly. Nigel laughed and shook his head, hugging the boy tightly again, kissing the back of his neck softly. 

Strange perverted cute special boy. 

“We can have sex after dinner.” Nigel said and Adam smiled. 

“I eat fro-” Adam was about to explain how he didn’t like to eat other things but Nigel beat him too it. 

“Frozen dinners. I know, love. I’ll order takeout and you can have your dinner.” Nigel said and Adam felt a strange feeling in his belly. It was nice. Mister was such a nice man, he hoped they could have more sex. 

[penny00dreadful]

Happy WIP Wednesday! I thought I'd share some snippets of my multiple WIPs because I'm obsessed with all of them and the urge to share became too much. These will all eventually be posted both here and on AO3. Some are first drafts and might change slightly and some have already been through rewrites, ALL will be published eventually.

Return of the King - Part 5

Anything further Eddie wanted to say was swiftly lost as the back door was thrown open with a shout from Dustin.

“He’s a vampire?!”

Eddie tilted his head back the whole way so he was looking at Dustin upside down.

“That’s the prevailing theory.”

“Dude!” The next second Dustin had disappeared back inside.

Sitting back up straight again, Eddie glanced over in Hopper's direction.

“A vampire? Really? You’re encouraging this?”

Eddie raised his hands up in surrender. “I’m just calling ‘em like I see ‘em, Hop. The boy’s got fangs. He drinks blood. He’s not dead anymore.”

“Whose blood?! Did he bite you?”

“I wish.” He muttered but evidently not quietly enough if Hopper’s scandalised expression was anything to go by. “No, he didn’t bite me. He stole some cows' blood from the butchers.”

Hopper groaned as he heaved himself up from the chair and let a loud exhale go. “I don’t know why I’m surprised by anything anymore. Fuck it, fine, he’s a vampire. Just another god damn Tuesday in Hawkins.”

Commuppance - The kids meddle in Steve's love life and get their just desserts.

“Eddie, we need you to flirt with Nancy.”

The man in question turned his head slowly and methodically until he was facing Dustin completely, his hand still hovering over the battle map he was prepping.

“Excuse me?”

“If you make Steve jealous, that might be the kick he needs to finally do something.”

“You’re playing with fire here, Henderson. You can’t toy with people’s feelings like that.”

“Who’s toying with feelings? There’ll be no feelings involved.”

“What about Steve’s feelings? What about Nancy’s?”

“It won’t matter once it all works out.”

Eddie’s mouth was set in a firm, grim line. He looked almost angry. But that couldn’t be right.

“And there’s no way this could possibly blow up in your face, right?”

Dustin looked at Eddie like he had six heads. What wasn’t he getting about this? This was how things were done. He was saved from having to answer by the arrival of Nancy and Mike into the Harrington basement.

Steve barely glanced up at their arrival, just sending a short smile their way, too deep in conversation with Robin about the news or interior design or whatever the fuck grown ups talk about.

Dustin sent a very pointed look Eddie's way who heaved the most put upon sigh, rising from his seat and giving Dustin the middle finger which he sarcastically reciprocated.

“Hey Nance.” Eddie said, sildling up beside her and oozing charm and charisma. “I'm glad you decided to come today. Don't know what I would've done if I had to go without seeing your pretty face for much longer."

Worship - Reincarnation AU

Their last Life together had been… well there was no word to describe it other than horrible. He’d only ever seen Eddie die so brutally once before.

But those demobats had been…

Fuck.

Something in Steve broke in that last Life.

He’d fought so hard for so long. Scrambling for whatever scrap of Eddie he could get in each Life, over and over and over again.

And Eddie never remembered.

Each new Life for him was a fresh start.

But Steve remembered all of it. He remembered everything. Living, dying, searching for Eddie every time, for years, sometimes decades until he found him.

He supposed it was what he had asked for.

Or rather demanded.

Maybe he was stupidly naive to think that pissing off, disrespecting and insulting Her then demanding he get Eddie back would get him what he wanted, the way he wanted.

Maybe it was a curse.

Steve’s Curse.

Unnamed Dungeons and Dragons AU

“Hunt him down, Harrington.”

Steve glared across the table.

“I’m not your fucking errand boy, Carver. I don’t need your money.”

“No, but you need a quest to become a full Knight. Even your daddy can’t buy you that.”

Steve bristled, his stomach turning sour because the thing was Jason was right. His father had attempted to buy his way, as far as could be bought, into a knighthood though Steve had succeeded through his training all on his own merit not needing the aid of daddy's money. He was nothing if not a talented athlete.

But in order to be fully knighted and earn his station as a Paladin, he needed to complete a quest outside of their small town of Hawkins. And a quest for such a thing could only be approved by the High Priests, which Jason was currently in training to become, serving directly underneath the Head High Priest Henry Creel.

“I hardly think some pissy little bard from the shitty part of town would qualify as a quest.”

“He tried to curse Chrissy, Harrington. Messing with dark shit. Nercromancy. Blood magic. It's a god damn miracle she's even alive. You want a freak like that roaming free?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s not like he’ll ever come back to town. He cut and run fast enough.”

Through the Valley - Post Apocalypse AU

Eddie swiped furiously at his eyes with his bedsheets, trying to will the lump in his throat away. His heart still ached and he knew despite his best efforts he’d be carrying it around with him for the rest of the day. He hated those nights with a burning passion. He didn’t have nightmares like Dustin or Nancy did, he had these dreams. He wept in his sleep, crying until he was dried out and exhausted upon waking up but he wouldn’t trade them in for anything.

At least with these dreams he could still…

It wasn’t important. He had too much shit to deal with today to spend time mourning the past. Their food surplus was getting dangerously low and there hadn’t been a supply drop in weeks though their own vegetable crop was still growing strong. Chester Hagen and his goons were still giving Nancy trouble. They needed extra hands to get their fence back up again and those bandits were still out there. They might have been scared away by Dustin and Scott’s genius and deadly electrical wiring but they weren’t going to stay away for long.

Their settlement was way too valuable an asset to have under their belts from a defensive standpoint alone and if they were able to seize control it could be catastrophic.

And the fucking Ghouls.

A constant trickle of Ghouls stumbling towards their settlement, invariably drawn towards the noise their small community made. Their numbers had started to dwindle a little but they were still a very real threat.

The two bodies that had to be brought home and buried during the last trip to maintain their water tower made that clear enough.

Fuck, they needed food. Everyone was running on fumes and it was making them sloppy. Their sentries were having trouble concentrating, their medical personnel had started to feel they couldn’t perform their duties safely anymore, their smartest minds were waning.

Eddie dragged himself out of bed, the one he’d slept in alone and lamenting the empty space next to him since they first arrived at this estate, nine months ago and fourteen months since...

No.

Too much to do today.

[abbygrabska]

Utopia

We watch the console.

“Cardiff.” “Cardiff?” Martha asks. “Cardiff is built on a rift in time and space. Just like California and the San Andreas Fault. The rift bleeds energy. Every now and then the Doctor opens up the engines and soaks up the energy. It’s fuel.” I explain.

“So it’s a pit stop.” She realizes.

“Exactly.” “Wait a minute. They had an earthquake in Cardiff, a couple of years ago. Was that you?” She asks.

He winces, “Bit of trouble with the Slitheen. Long time ago. Lifetimes. I was a different man back then. Just ask Abby.” “Can confirm, big ears, buzz cut, and an affinity for leather jackets.” I grin at him.

“My ears weren’t that big!” He protests, glancing at the monitor.

A look of panic appears on his face and he starts the Tardis.

The console sparks and we get thrown to the floor. “What’s that?” I ask. “We’re accelerating into the future. The year one billion. Five billion. Five trillion. Fifty trillion.” He watches the numbers go up, “What? The year one hundred trillion. That’s impossible!”

“Why? What happens then?” Martha asks.

“We’re going to the end of the universe.”

The Tardis lands with a thud.

“Well, we’ve landed.”

“So what’s out there?” I ask. “I don’t know.” “Say that again. That’s rare.” Martha says.

“Not even the Time Lords came this far. We should leave. We should go. We should really, really… go.” He looks at us and grins widely before heading for the door, “Outside is a bleak landscape.”

We step out.

Martha notices something, “Oh my God!” She taps the Doctor’s arm before rushing away.

I turn to look, “Oh, shit!” “Can’t get a pulse. Hold on, you’ve got that medical kit thing.” Martha jumps up and runs back into the Tardis.

I stare at Jack.

“Hello again.” The Doctor saunters over, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Martha rushes back out, “Here we go. Out of the way.” She shoves the Doctor, “It’s a bit odd, though. Not very one hundred trillion, that coat’s more like World War II.”

“I think he came with us.” “How’d you mean? From Earth?”

“Must’ve been clinging to the outside of the Tardis all the way through the vortex.” I shake myself out of shock, “Very him.” “What? You two know him?” She asks.

“Friend of ours. Used to travel with us. Back in the old days.” He nods.

“But he’s, I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat. There’s nothing. He’s dead.”

Jack gasps, coming back to life, grabbing Martha, who screams.

“Oh well, so much for me. It’s all right. Just breathe deep. I’ve got you now.”

Jack looks Martha up and down, “Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?”

“Martha Jones.” “Nice to meet you, Martha Jones.” “Oh, don’t start!” The Doctor says.

“I was just saying hello.” “I don’t mind.” Martha smiles before helping Jack to his feet. Jack and the Doctor stare at each other coldly. “Doctor.” “Captain.” “Good to see you.” “And you. Same as ever… although… have you have work done?” The Doctor asks.

“You can talk!” “Oh yes, the face. Regeneration. How did you know this was me?”

“The police box kinda gives it away. I’ve been following you for a long time. You abandoned me.”

“Did I? Busy life. Move on.” “Just gotta ask. The Battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. It said Rose Tyler.” I step forward, making myself known to Jack, “She’s alive. A parallel world, safe and sound, with Mickey and Mom.” “Abby?” He smiles, opening his arms and hugging me, “It’s good to see you.” “So there I was, stranded in the year 200,100, ankle-deep in Dalek dust, and he goes off without me. But I had this.” He taps the machine on his wrist, “I used to be a Time Agent. It’s called a vortex manipulator. He’s not the only one who can time travel.”

“Oh, excuse me. That is not time travel. It’s like I've got a sports car and you’ve got a space hopper.”

I share a laugh with Martha.

“Boys and their toys.” “All right, so I bounced. I thought: the 21st century, is the best place to find the Doctor, except that I got it a little wrong. I arrived in 1869 and this thing burnt out so it was useless.”

“Told you.” “I had to live through the entire 20th century waiting for a version of you that would coincide with me.” “That makes you more than 100 years old.” “And looking good, doncha think? So I went to the time rift, based myself there ‘cause I knew you’d come back to refuel. Until I finally get a signal on this detecting you and here we are.” “But the thing is, how come you left him behind, Doctor?” Martha asks.

“I was busy.” He says. “It’s true. I absorbed the heart of the tardis and he had to save me. Triggered his regeneration cycle and then he had to grow a new hand.” I explain. The Doctor walks to the edge of a canyon that looks like it once held a city of some sort. “Is that a city?” Martha asks. “A city or a hive. Looks like it was grown. But look there. That’s like pathways, roads… Must have been some sort of life. Long ago.” The Doctor explains. “What killed it?” I ask.

“Time. Just time. Everything’s dying now. All the great civilizations have gone. This isn’t just night. All the stars have burned away and faded away into nothing.” “It must have an atmospheric shell. We should be frozen to death.”

“Well, Martha, Abby, and I, maybe. Not so sure about you, Jack.” The Doctor looks at Jack. “What about the people? Does no one survive?”

“I suppose we have to hope. Life will find a way.” “Well, he’s not doin’ too bad.” Jack points to a man running along one of the pathways, being chased by a horde of people.

“Is it me, or does that look like a hunt? Come on!” We run along a roadway.

“Oh, I’ve missed this!”

Jack grabs the man, “I’ve got you.” “We’ve gotta run! They’re coming! They’re coming!”

Jack passes the man to the Doctor and pulls out his revolver, aiming it at the horde.

“Jack, don’t you dare!” The Doctor shouts.

Jack fires into the air and the horde stops. “What the hell are they?” I ask. “There’s more of them. We’ve got to keep going.”

“I’ve got a ship nearby. It’s safe. It’s not far, it’s just over there.” The Doctor looks back the way we came to see another horde, “Or maybe not.” “We’re close to the silo. If we get to the silo, then we’re safe.” We all run to the silo, followed by the horde, arriving at a gated area with watchtowers and guards.

“It’s the Futurekind! Open the gate!”

“Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth! Show me your teeth!” The guard orders. We all grit our teeth in wide smiles.

“Human! Let ‘em in! Let ‘em in!”

The guards open the gate and we run inside.

“Close! Close! Close!” the guard fires his gun at the ground in front of the horde. “Humans. Humani. Make feast.” “Go back where you came from. I said go back! Go back!” The guard aims his gun.

“Oh, don’t tell him to put down his gun.” “He’s not my responsibility.” “And I am?” Jack scoffs, “That makes a change.”

“Kind watch you. Kind hungry.” The leader of the horde signals the others and they back away.

“Thanks for that.” I speak to the guard.

“Right. Let’s get you inside.”

“My naime is Padrafet Shafekane. Please tell me, can you take me to Utopia?”

“Oh yes, sir. Yes, I can.”

The guard leads us into a large tunnel carved into a mountain.

“It’s a box, a big blue box. I’m sorry, but I really need it back. It’s stuck out there.” The Doctor explains to the man, Lt. Atillo.

“I’m sorry, but my family was heading for the silo. Did they get here? My mother is Kistane Shafekane. My brother is Beltone.” Padra interrupts. “The computers are down, but you can check the paperwork. Creet!” 

A young boy of about 10 sticks his head around a corner.

“Passenger needs help.” “Right. What d’you need?”

Padra walks over to Creet and looks at his clipboard.

“A blue box, you said.”

“Big, tall, wooden. Says ‘Police’.” The Doctor explains.

“We’re driving out for a last water collection. I’ll see what I can do.”

The Doctor thanks him before Creet motions for us to follow him.

We follow him through corridors lined with people camping.

Creet calls out the names.

“It’s like a refugee camp.” Martha notes. “Stinking.” Jack passes a rather large man who stares, “Ooh, sorry. No offense.” “Don’t you smell that?” The Doctor asks, “The ripe old smell of humans. You survived. Oh, much better than a million years evolving into clouds of gas. And then another million as downloads, but you always revert to the same basic shape. The fundamental humans. End of the universe and here you are. Indomitable! That’s the word! Indomitable! Ha!”

The Shafekane family reunites. “It’s not all bad news.” Martha smiles. Jack notices a good-looking man, “Captain Jack Harkness.” He shakes the man's hand, “And who are you?”

The Doctor and I are examining a door, using his sonic screwdriver to try and open it, “Stop it. Give us a hand with this.” Jack reluctantly lets go of the man’s hand before joining us.

“It’s half deadlocked. See if you can overwrite the code.” Jack sets to work on the keypad while the Doctor continues to use his sonic screwdriver, “Let’s find out where we are.” The door slides open and the Doctor nearly falls into the silo. Jack stops him by grabbing his coat, “Gotcha.” “Thanks.” “How did you cope without me?” Jack asks sarcastically.

“Now that is what I call a rocket.” I comment.

“They’re not refugees, they’re passengers.” The Doctor notes. “He said they were going to Utopia.” Martha says.

“The perfect place. 100 trillion years, it’s still the same old dream. Do you recognize those engines?”

“Nope. whatever it is, it’s not rocket science. But it’s hot, though.”

“Boiling.” We all step back and Jack closes the door.

“But if the universe is falling apart, what does Utopia mean?” The Doctor wonders.

An old man runs up to us and looks between Jack and the Doctor.

“The Doctor?”

“That’s me.” The Doctor raises his hand.

The old man takes his hand and leads him away, repeating the word ‘good’.

“Chan, welcome, tho.” 

The old man leads the Doctor over to several objects, explaining what they do.

“Hello.” I greet the blue woman with what looks like insect antennas, “Who are you?” “Chan, Chantho, tho.” “Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack smirks. “Stop it.” I say. “Can’t I say hello to anyone?” “Chan, I do not protest, tho.” She smiles.

“Maybe later, Blue.” He winks, “So, what have we got here?”

Martha follows Jack.

“And all this feeds into the rocket?” The Doctor asks.

“Yes, except without a stable footprint we’ll never achieve escape velocity. If only we could harmonize the five impact patterns and unify them, well, we might yet make it. What do you think, Doctor? Any ideas?” the Professor asks.

“Well, um, basically… sort of… not a clue.” “Nothing?” “I’m not from around these parts. I’ve never seen a system like it. Sorry.” The Professor speaks dejectedly, “No, no. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. There’s been so little help.”

I take a glance at Martha and find her pulling… a hand in a container out of Jack's bag.

“Oh my God.” She sets the hand on the table, “You’ve got a hand. A hand in a jar. A hand in a jar in your bag.”

I turn to the Doctor, “Is that yours?”

He nods, gobsmacked.

“I said I had a Doctor detector.” Jack defends. “Chan, is this a tradition amongst your people, tho?”

“Not on my street. What d’you mean that’s your hand? You’ve got both your hands, I can see them.” Martha denies.

“Long story. I lost my hand on Christmas Day. In a swordfight.”

“What? And you grew another hand?”

I furrow my brow, “I literally told you that earlier.” “I thought you were joking!” She says.

“Might I ask, what species are you?” The Professor asks. “Time Lord. Last of. Heard of them? Legend or anything? Not even a myth? Blimey, the end of the universe is a bit humbling.” The Doctor rambles.

“Chan, It is said that I am the last of my species too, tho.” “Sorry, what was your name?” The Doctor asks. “My assistant and good friend, Chanto. A survivor of the Malmooth. This was their planet, Malcassairo, before we took refuge.” “The city outside, that was yours?” I ask. “Chan, the conglomeration died, tho.” Chantho explains. “I’m sorry.” I empathize.

“Chan, most grateful, tho.” “So what about those things outside?” Jack asks, “The Beastie Boys. What are they?” “We call them the Futurekind. Which is a myth in itself, but, uh, it is feared they are what we will become. Unless we reach Utopia.” “And Utopia is…”

“Oh, every human knows of Utopia. Where have you been?” 

“Bit of a hermit.” “A hermit with friends?” “Hermits United. We meet up every ten years. Swap stories about caves. It’s good fun… For a hermit. So, um, Utopia?”

The Professor crooks his finger and leads us to a computer that shows a navigational chart with a blinking red dot. “The call came from across the stars, over and over again. Come to Utopia. Originated from that point.” “Where is that?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s far beyond the Condensate Wilderness. Out towards the wildlands and the dark matter reefs. Calling us in. the last of the humans. Scattered across the night.” “What do you think’s out there?” “I don’t know. A colony, a city, some sort of haven? The Science Foundation created the Utopia Project thousands of years ago to preserve mankind, to find a way of surviving beyond the collapse of reality itself. Now perhaps they found it. Perhaps not. But it’s worth a look, don’t you think?”

I watch the Professor stare off into space while the Doctor rambles.

The Doctor seems to notice as well, “Professor? Professor?”

“I… Right, that’s enough talk. There’s work to do. Now if you could leave. Thank you.” He walks away.

“You all right?” “Yes. I’m fine! And busy!” “Except that rocket’s not going to fly, is it? This footprint mechanism thing, it’s not working.”

“We’ll find a way!”

“You’re stuck on this planet. And you haven’t told them, have you? That lot out there, they still think they’re gonna fly.”

“Well, it’s better to let them live in hope.” “Quite right, too. And I must say, Professor…” The Doctor removes his coat and gives it to me as he passes, “Um, what was it?” “Yana.” “Professor Yana. this new science is well beyond me, but all the same, a boost reversal circuit, in any time frame, must be a circuit that reverses the boost. So, I wonder, what would happen if I did this?” He picks up the circuit and uses his sonic on it before switching it on, giving us power.

“Chan, it’s working, tho!”

“But, how did you do that?” Professor Yana asks.

“Oh, we’ve been chatting away. I forgot to tell you, I’m brilliant.”

Martha, Chantho, and I are heading in the opposite direction of the queues of people, carrying circuit boards.

“Excuse me. Hey, what was your name? Creet?” I ask the little boy who helped us earlier. “That’s right, miss.” “Who are you with, Creet?” I ask. “No one, miss. There’s just me.” “Well, good luck. What do you think it’s going to be like in Utopia?” Martha asks.

“My mum used to say the skies are made of diamonds.” “Good for her. Go on, off you go. Get your seat.” Creet continues on.

We return to the lab, I smile upon seeing the tardis, “Oh, I am so glad to see her.” Chantho goes to Yana, who is sitting down. “Chan, Professor, are you all right, tho?” “Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine.” He dismisses weakly before speaking strongly, “I’m fine. Just get on with it.”

“Connect those circuits into the spar, same as that last lot. But quicker.” I salute sarcastically, “Yes, sir.”

“How long have you been with the professor?” I ask Chantho. “Chan, seventeen years, tho.” “Blimey. A long time.” Martha comments.

“Chan, I adore him, tho.” “Oh right, and he…” “Chan… I don’t think he even notices, tho.” She speaks sadly.

“Tell us about it.” “Chan, but I am happy to serve, tho.”

“Do you mind if I ask? Do you have to start every sentence with ‘chan’?” Martha asks. “Chan, yes, tho.” “And end every sentence with…” “Chan, tho, tho.” “What would happen if you didn’t?” I question.

“Chan, that would be rude, tho.” “Oh, like swearing?” I realize. “Chan, indeed, tho.” “Go on, just once.” Martha urges.

“Chan, I can’t, tho.” She replies nervously.

“Oh, do it for us.” I use my puppy pout. “No.” We all giggle.

“God’s sake! This equipment! Needs rebooting all the time!” Professor Yana shouts.

I walk over to him, “Anything I can do? I’ve finished that lot.” “Yes, if you could.” He gets up so I can have his seat, “Just press the reboot key every time the picture goes out.”

“Of course.”

“Are you still there?” Atillo asks. “Ah, present and correct. Send your man inside. We’ll keep the levels down from here.”

“He’s inside. And good luck to him.” “Captain, keep the levels below the red.” “Where is that room?” The Doctor asks.

“It’s underneath the rocket. Fix the couplings and the footprint can work. But the entire chamber is flooded with stet radiation.” Professor Yana explains. “Stet? Never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t want to. But it’s safe enough. We can hold the radiation back from here.” We watch on the monitor as the man works on the couplings. An alarm begins to sound. “It’s rising… 0.2. Keep it level!” More alarms go off.

“Chan, we’re losing power, tho!” “Radiation’s rising!”

“We’ve lost control!” “The chamber’s going to flood.” “Jack! Override the vents!” Jack takes hold of two live cables, “We can jump-start the override.” He holds both cables together.

“Don’t! It’s going to flare!”

Jack screams as the power courses through him. He falls to the floor. Martha rushes over to Jack, “I’ve got him.”

“Chan, don’t touch the cables, tho.” Chantho pushes the cables aside.

We all rush to check on Jack. I look at the Doctor, he’s not shocked in the slightest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” “The chamber’s flooded with radiation, yes?” Martha starts mouth-to-mouth on Jack. “Without the couplings, the engines will never start. It was all for nothing!”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The Doctor walks forward, “Martha, leave him.” He pulls her up gently.

“You’ve gotta let me try.” She protests.

“Come on. Come on. Just listen to me. Now leave him alone. It strikes me, Professor, you’ve got a room a man can’t enter without dying. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “Well…” Jack gasps for breath as he comes back to life.

The Doctor removes his glasses, “I’ve got just the man.” “Was someone kissing me?”

The Doctor and Jack race out of the room.

“We lost picture when that thing flared up. Doctor, are you there?” I ask.

“Receiving, yeah. He’s inside.”

“And still alive?” Martha asks.

“Oh, yes.” “But he should evaporate. What sort of a man is he?” Professor Yana asks.

“I’ve only just met him. The Doctor sort of travels through time and space and picks people up. God, I make us sound like stray dogs. Maybe we are.”

“He travels in time?” Professor Yana looks away distracted.

“Tardis. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.” I recall.

“When did you first realize?” The Doctor asks Jack.

“Earth, 1892. Got in a fight on Ellis Island. A man shot me through the heart. Then I woke up. Thought it was kinda strange. But then it never stopped. Fell off a cliff, trampled by horses, World War I, World War II, poison, strangulation, a stray javelin… In the end, I got the message, I’m the man who can never die. And all that time you knew.”

“That’s why I left you behind. It’s not easy even just… just looking at you Jack, ‘cause you’re wrong.” “Thanks.” “You are, I can’t help it. I’m a Time Lord. It’s instinct. It’s in my guts. You’re a fixed point in time and space. You’re a fact. That’s never meant to happen. Even the Tardis reacted against you, tried to shake you off. Flew all the way to the end of the universe just to get rid of you.” “So what you’re saying is that you’re, uh, prejudiced.” “I never thought of it like that.” “Yeah. Last thing I remember back when I was mortal… I was facing three Daleks. Death by extermination. And then I came back to life. What happened?”

“Abby.” My eyes widen in surprise. “I thought you sent her back home.” “She came back. Opened the heart of the Tardis and absorbed the time vortex.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” “No one’s ever meant to have that power. If a Time Lord did that, he’d become a god, a vengeful god. But she’s human. Everything she does is so human. She brought you back to life but she couldn’t control it. She brought you back forever. That’s something, I suppose. The final act of the Time War was life.” “Do you think she could change me back?” “I took the power out of her, if she did it again, it might kill her.”

“I’m sorry.” “Yep.” There is a silence.

“Do you wanna die?” The Doctor asks. “Oh, this one’s a little stuck.” “Jack?” “I thought I did. I dunno. But this lot, you see them out here surviving and that’s fantastic.” “You may be out there somewhere.” “I could go meet myself.” “Well, the only man you’re ever gonna be happy with.”

“This new regeneration, it’s kinda cheeky.”

“Time travel. They say there was time travel back in the old days. I never believed. But what would I know? I’m just a stupid old man. Never could keep time. Always late, always lost. Even this thing never worked.” Yana pulls out a fob watch from his waistcoat pocket, “Time and time and time again. Always running out on me.”

“Can I have a look at that?” I ask.

“Oh, it’s only an old relic.” He chuckles.

“Where did you get it?” Martha asks, seemingly realizing where I’m going.

“Hm? I was found with it.” “What do you mean?”

“An orphan in the storm. I was a naked child found on the coast of the Silver Devastation. Abandoned with only this.” He holds up the fob watch.

“Have you opened it?” “Why would I? It’s broken.” “How do you know it’s broken if you’ve never opened it?” “It’s stuck. It’s old. It’s not meant to be. I don’t know.” I take the watch and turn it over. It has the same engravings as the Doctor’s.

I glance at Martha before stepping back. “Does it matter?” Yana asks.

“No. it’s… nothing. It’s… Listen, everything’s fine up here. I’m gonna see if the Doctor needs me.” Martha says before running out of the room.

Yana holds the watch.

“Chan, Yana, won’t you please take some rest, tho?”

Yana opens the watch, releasing its contents.

“Chan, Professor Yana, tho?”

He turns from the Tardis to face us, no longer seeming like the genial man he was before.

He throws a lever.

“Chan, but you’ve locked them in, tho.” “Not to worry, my dear. As one door closes, another must open.” He throws another switch, “The power goes down at the main gate and Futurekind realizes they can get in.” “You have to stop!” Yana ignores me as he works on various controls around the lab.

“Chan, but you’ve lowered the defenses! The Futurekind will get in, tho!”

I see Chantho pull a gun out and back up.

“Chan, Professor, I’m so sorry, but I must stop you. You’re destroying all our work, tho.”

Yana turns and sees her aiming the gun at him.

“Oh… now I can say I was provoked.” He holds out one of the live cables, “Did you never think, in all those years standing beside me, to ask about that watch? Never? Did you never think, not ever, that you could set me free?”

Chantho whimpers, “Chan, I’m sorry, tho. I’m so sorry.”

“And you, with your ‘chan’ and your ‘tho’ driving me insane.” “Professor, please…” I whisper. “That is not my name! The Professor… was an invention. So perfect a disguise that I forgot who I am.” “Chan, who are you, tho?”

He speaks in a low whisper, “I am the Master.” He thrusts the cable forward, shocking Chantho.

I scream as her body convulses.

He kneels and reaches out to take the canister containing the Doctor’s hand.

“Professor!” I snap my head to the locked door.

“Professor, let me in! Let me in! Jack, get the door open!” I go to rush to the door when a hand grabs my wrist, “You’re not going anywhere!”

I scream as I am dragged away from the door. He groans as a gunshot goes off, wrapping his arm around my neck and staggering back against the Tardis. The doors open and the Doctor rushes inside.

“Doctor!” I cry out. He moves forward but the Master pulls me into the Tardis before locking it.

He throws me away from him. I hit my head on the console before landing on the floor.

My vision is blurry, but I can hear the Doctor shouting, “I’m begging you! Everything’s changed! It’s only the two of us! We’re the only ones left! Just let me in!”

“Killed by an insect! A girl! How inappropriate. Still, if the Doctor can be young and strong, then so can I. The Master… reborn.” I look up just in time to see the Master regenerate.

“Doctor… ooh, new voice. Anyway, why don’t we stop and have a nice little chat while I tell you all my plans and you can work out a way to stop me? I don’t think so!”“I’m asking you really properly! Just stop! Just think!” “Use my name.” “Master. I’m sorry.” “Tough!” I hear him start the controls before coming over to me, “Your little pet will make an excellent accomplice.” His hands wrap around my throat and I gasp for breath as my vision goes black.

[forthelovelovelove]

Songs 10/28/2023

Is it good to post? To etherize. To become myself for a lovely pixel mystery front end i know so little about. Before my computer gets completely full of crumb dust I wanna blog some songs that I liked this month, I'll be a writer.

PAL - Safety Corridor

I'll start with one of the tens of albums I've listened to that came out this year, since I'm really really into new music. This is egg punk from Ohio and they have a great limited set of inputs - pleasing timbre dead pan vocalist, scraggily guitar, and bendy melodies. They use the first two of those here with their constant base and spare drums. It is a pleasing mix and something about this frank dick sucking song creates a believable erotic, dry as most truth is. The whole EP is good, I hope they make more stuff.

Razor - Speed Merchants

More discovery shit on my part, thrash metal isn't something I've explored too much but this album (Evil Invaders) rocks. Listening to this song just short of 40 years on feels like it agglomerates many disparate long-haired doer activities: rocking, gaming, being a tight end, drinking 12 beers. I do to feel like a speed merchant:

"Speed Merchants live for pleasure, Speed Merchants live for pain They live for understanding and sparks to start the flame"

Sounds like bipedal existence. My pain comes from loss of pleasure. Blah blah blah. Musically this shit is x-games rocking. It has that nice hook break down and then its all button mashing guitar strumming over a blast beat w ride smashing thrown in. Then there is real shredding in the middle... and it comes back, fuck the high pitched guitar turnaround goes soooo hard. Good shit Canada, idk much about Razor again, I thought this was going to be some valuable-only-for the album cover music, and it ended up being true mind expansion muzik. Look at some other album covers. LEGENDS!

Dynarec - Need The Teacher

Ok I looked up what dynarec means a couple weeks and it is something to do with running emulators and CPU usage on your comp. Could be totally wrong but I like that ok. Difficult to pick a song of this "User Input" album that's best, but this was one of my favorite. It has a nice detuning vibe and excellent cursed (not evil) toy box vibe, that talking synth melody that underlies the entire thing is a thing of distant beauty. Lovely! I listened to a lot of electro last month, and realized its a very strange genre often centered on elements I find have been done much much better in the development of hip-hop, techno, and other dance genres. But in this particular track there's idiosyncratic electro jamming!! Sweet.

2sdxrt3all - zack and cody

Ok I had to traverse forsaken urls to realize his name is phonetically dirtball, but I am a fried guy and thats why I'm still on soundcloud. This might not be the best example of dxrt3all, as there are songs where his adlibs almost argue with his main vocal track and show some of that beloved newness, but this beat! Oh loved that vibrato that comes in under the spooky high sine for the hook. The weight of "... he can't stop thinking about it" is intense, and admittedly, is a bit misleading of the manner dxrt talks about murder/robbery in most of his music. But he is a 17yr old ad lib master, and i recommend this song and then his discog (which I still need to explore). It's also cool he has a producer homie who he's almost exclusively linked with, there's still soul in the game! Hey I'm excited about a teenage SC head who isn't xavier (is he 20 yet?).

The Unlovables - I Want a Boy

Ok, seems like I'm bad at this shit, cause this is another consolation song from one of my most listened to albums of the past years. By that I mean there's a lot of good songs on this 2004 new york pop punk (power pop?) album. It is that pure candy muzik I fucking love, and I wonder if there's more like this to see. Still can't believe I missed that Everyone Asked About You show, but this song fucking rocks. I really want to cover it cause I think a version of this with 200+ bpm digital blast beats and overdriven synths instead of guitars would rock, the structure is so good. Unlovables have the best backing vocals, and all the musical cheese is liberated by the even cheesier lyrics. Perfect music, we should all get to feel immanence like this on a regular basis, sadly no one is as keen to soy as I am, and for that we will continue to burn. Hallie Bulleit is a really good vocalist.

Well let us hope that the world won't be completely fucked, and that it ends unnaturally instead of just being Joever. Americana should be perserved, global America needs to burn god damn. Hopefully I'll post more and that there will be initial and continued solutions in Gaza. Thanks

[xiao-isms]

— hold it!

character(s): xiao.

content: begging, prostate massage, overstimulation, praise kink, edging, fingering, xiao says 'please' and cries a lot.

word count: 1.2k words and 6.6k characters.

voicemail: i had lots of fun writing this! also first fic to reach 1k words woohoo. im not too familiar with soft doms so hopefully this is decent haha. enjoy!!!!! <3

there he was: xiao, the high and mighty adeptus of liyue, on his knees practically begging for you. he stood in a rather compromising position: his legs were spread as wide as possible so you could see his hard, drooling cock while the upper half of his body laid flat on the queen sized bed. the entire scene was something suited for a cheap whore rather than a skilled yaksha such as himself, but he didn't mind-- not anymore; he'd thrown his pride out the window a long, long time ago. "please," he begged, turning his head just enough to meet your playful stare, "please touch me." you took a good look at the tiny form in front of you: his right cheek was smooshed against the cotton pillow and it made his delicate, blush-pink lips form into the cutest pout you'd ever seen. you couldn't deny him the thing he wanted most, not when he was looking at you so innocently. with a nod and gentle kiss to the man's small forehead, you got to work. you teased the tip of his cock, rubbing the pad of your thumb around the slit. you used the precum that had gathered to lubricate the rest of his dick and oh archons, xiao swore he never felt such euphoria. every little touch felt so good; every stroke of your hand, every quick kiss on the base of his cock, all the disgusting, filthy squelching noises you were making with his cock, everything.

he was so close, so close, so close, oh fuck—

"hnng, cumming, 'm, uhn, c-cumming!" he cried, but just as he was about to release all over the wrinkled bed sheets, your hand came to a halt just at the base of his needy dick. you held his shaft firmly and peered at him with a malicious glint in your lustful eyes. "ah, ah," you chuckled, "you cum when i say you can, okay?" fat tears rolled down the yaksha's now reddened face despite the slight nod he gave. he knew how cruel you could be, even if you babied him constantly— both in and outside the bedroom. "good boy, you behave so well, my love," you commended, kissing the hot tears that had risen once again in those beautiful amber eyes. this time, however, you took hold of xiao's milky thighs and pressed them down on the bed— with a few sucks and wet kisses here and there, of course. he was yours and you made that apparent every chance you got.

"here," you said with a gentle smile, lifting your fingers to the adeptus' pretty little mouth, "suck." he wrapped his lips around your digits with sudden verve and coated them in sticky, wet saliva while his tongue went underneath your middle and index finger and through the crevice, making sure to cover every part he possibly could. after a good three minutes of watching the other suck and lick your fingers like his life depended on it, you pulled away. xiao whined and pouted— in the way a child would during a tantrum because their toys got taken away. you shushed him with a ruffle of his thick turquoise hair. "sh, i’m gonna make you feel good, okay doll?" he huffed and buried his face in the white pillow but made a small noise of approval.

you went back towards his pert ass, spreading his soft cheeks. slowly, as not to hurt him, you slid your index finger in his hole to the knuckle. his body shivered, but you couldn’t pick up on any sign of discomfort so you slid it in and out rhythmically. once you were sure he was ready to take a second finger, you inserted your middle one. you scissored his barely open hole so gently, like you were afraid he’d break if you made one wrong move. “you okay, xiao?” you asked with concern laced in your voice. he could take it, he could take so much more than just two fingers—you knew that, you knew he could, but you always wanted him to be safe and comfortable. with you, he’d never have to feel the way he did for centuries; that was something you made sure of.

“y-yeah, i’m okay, keep going.” you let out a sigh of relief, one that you weren’t aware you were holding, and resumed your ministrations. almost fifteen minutes later, you had all four digits lodged into him and pumping in and out of his hole with an ever increasing pace. “mm, you’re so soft, baby. has anyone ever told you that, hm?” the corners of your lips turn upward with every subtly dirty word coming spilling from your mouth. he quivers and shakes his head, of course no one’s loved him, cared for him, touched him the way he allows you to.

the mere thought of that makes your chest swell with pride; you love knowing that you’re the only person xiao has been this intimate with and will continue to be such, for as long as the two of you live. a smirk plays on your lips and with just a small movement, you hit his prostate dead-on. he jumps and whimpers and whines as you abuse that sensitive nerve over and over again. “so good, you take it so well.” he turns away, a clear look of bashfulness on his flushed face, and moans into his pillow. his body seizes and he comes so, so close to orgasm but you stop him just in the nick of time. "n-no! please, please i-i wanna cum so b-bad!" you arch your brow at his pathetic pleas and he lets out a groan. xiao knows you won't let him cum, not just yet; you wanted to play with him for a little bit first, you always do. with a click of your tongue, you began to stroke his leaking length while continuing to rub on that spot that made him putty at your knees with the pad of your finger.

"a-ah! ooh, mm, too much! it's too much! you're g-gonna--fuck!-- break m-me!" fat tears streamed down the man's alabaster face and oh, he wanted to cum, he wanted to cum so, so badly. you were well aware of this and decided to toy with him just one more time— after all, it should be part of the fun, right?

"mm, i don't know, have you earned it?"

at that, he lets even bigger, blood-hot tears roll down his dusted cheeks. "yes!" he shouts. so desperate, so cute. "i've been good, r-really good! let me cum, please! please please please-" you cut him off with a rough kiss and he opens his mouth so your tongue can slip in. it feels like you're trying to shove your tongue down his throat and fuck, he's so hard and horny and hot, it feels so good. you jerk him off and slowly start to move your digits in his hole once more, pulling away from the kiss to look at him straight in the eye. "you gonna cum? yeah, be good and cum for me, xiao." your pace quickens and just as it does, the being below you spasms and cries as he cums all over his tummy, chest and face. the adeptus slumps into the mattress, exhausted. smiling, you remove your fingers from his hole and plop down beside him. "i love you," you announce in the quiet room, only filled with xiao's pants. he looks at you with a hint of adoration in his tired eyes. "y-yeah, love you t-too."

[hotwings0203]

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

[t-lostinworlds]

Twenty-Five (Tom Holland)

a/n: well, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and i’m scared asdfghjkl. anyhow, this was a last minute idea, a.k.a was written fairly quick so bare with me for it may be shit lol. hope you guys enjoy! oh, and happy birthday to this handsome man in a turtleneck!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: none summary: Tom unwraps his last gift for his birthday, from you. warnings: implied smut (18+), nothing detailed, will include a glimpse of dom!tom at the end. word count: 1.6k+ (short but sweet spicy)

masterlist in bio

-:-:-:-:-

It's been ten minutes since you arrived back home from Tom's birthday dinner, a simple yet eventful night with friends and family. It was a given that the birthday boy was probably tired from all the fun and rowdy activities, add that to the fact that he'd been entertaining his guests the whole evening. But, with one last gift, it was also a given that your night was far from over.

You were nervous, there was no denying that. This was the first time you'd ever bought something like this, much less, show it to someone else. Despite being together for almost two years now, you hadn't really dabbled much into showing Tom a much more alluring type of clothing. But since it was a special occasion, you found no harm in giving your man a little surprise, a gift, as you might say. So of course you were nervous since this was going to be the first time that Tom will see you in something so...lacy, dainty, and well, sexy.

After checking yourself countless times in the mirror to make sure everything was right—with a few pep talks thrown in as well—you tied up your short, red, silk robe before finally coming out of the bathroom.

You found Tom sitting on your shared bed, still sporting his outfit of the night which was his tight, black turtleneck, biceps practically begging to be free with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. It was paired with his striped pants, one that was making his thighs look even more ravishing, inviting. He was looking handsome as always. His eyes were glued to his phone, fingers typing away, probably responding to more of his endless sea of greetings.

You silently made your way in front of the bed, fingers toying with the hem of your robe from the jitters. Taking in a few steady breaths, you tilted your head and said,

"Tom, go on and unwrap your last present for tonight."

"Huh? What present—oh," Tom cut himself off, eyebrows rising once his gaze landed on you. He hurriedly put his phone away, even doing as much as putting it inside his drawer, and you could only assume he turned Do Not Disturb on as well, the eagerness written all over his face. His smirk grew wide as he stood up from his place, walking over to you with his brown orbs gradually turning a shade darker. His hands found themselves on your waist once he was in close enough proximity, squeezing it tenderly. "Is my present under that robe?" he asked, voice falling down an octave.

"Maybe," you said with a shrugged, a feign innocent smile playing on your lips.

Tom shook his head. "I think I might need to sit down for this," he chuckled deeply, settling himself on the foot of the bed, spreading his legs wide so you could stand in between.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he twirled the tie of your robe around his fingers, smirk only growing wider once he saw you swallow the lump in your throat. With how close you were, he could probably hear how your heart was beating so loud. Tom always found pride whenever he earned any reaction from you by doing absolutely nothing yet. It was very smug of him, but Tom being confident and in control will never fail to be so damn attractive, who were you to complain?

Agonizingly slow, he undid the ribbon, eyes never leaving yours even until the fabric had loosened around your body. Then, Tom reached up, fingers slipping underneath the silk, touch unhurried as he gently pushed it off your shoulders. The smooth material slipped down your body with ease and pooled at your feet, Tom still holding your gaze but only for a moment. With a deep breath, his orbs flickered down, features befalling with awe, his jaw dropping as he cursed,

"Fuck."

It was a simple, red, 3-piece, lingerie set. The garter and lace detailing covered so little but enough to still leave something for the imagination. It was hugging your body in all the right places, accentuating your shape in the most flattering of ways. The set was practically see-through yet the fabric was still cut out in certain areas to show even more skin. There was a ribbon right on top of each bra strap and then a matching one right in the middle of the hem of your panties.

"Absolutely stunning, you are," Tom marveled, almost like a gasp, hands wandering from your shoulders, down your arms, curling around your waist before proceeding down your thighs. His touch was laced with utter worship and praise. Add that to the way he was gazing you up, your nerves were quick to be replaced with confidence. You giggled softly, cheeks flushed as Tom did nothing else but caress your flawed skin amorously, making sure that there was nothing left untouched. His eyes were roaming just the same as if he was being extra sure that he wasn't missing a single detail, both on your perfect imperfections and the lace alike.

"You like it?" you asked.

Tom scoffed, shaking his head as he looked up at you with much adoration. "Like is a massive understatement." Squeezing your waist, Tom let you go as he leaned back on his arms, now all sprawled out with a wide smirk. "Step back a little, darling, I want to see all of you," he drawled. And you did, walking back a few steps so he could get the full scope. Tom shook his head with a low groan, "Fucking gorgeous."

"Now, give me a spin."

You laughed timidly but did so anyway, nothing but hums of satisfaction and appreciation coming out of your man as you did a full 360. Once you were facing him again, you found him with his head tilted far to the side, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his eyes stayed down to which you assumed was ogling at your backside. Your assumption was swiftly proven right when Tom threw in another request.

"Turn to the side a little, sweetheart," he asked, not at all trying to be discreet as to where his eyes were glued. With the confidence brewing in you, you posed for him sideways, chin on your shoulder as you flashed him a charming smile. Tom bit back a groan, admiring you from head to toe, shaking his head and blowing out his cheeks once he did so. After a few moments, he met your gaze again with nothing but a proud and satisfied look on his face. "Difficult decision," he pondered, a soft hum with his voice all deep.

"What?" you giggled.

"I can't decide if I should rip it off of you immediately," Tom paused, tilting his head at you with a knowing grin as he continued with a guttural tone, "Or fuck you while it's still on."

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, thighs instinctively pressing together which only earned a low chuckle from you man. Yet with your newfound confidence, you took a breath, a soft sigh as you ran your hands slowly, teasingly over the lace repeatedly. Tom's eyes followed your fingers, brown orbs coated with much hunger and lust.

"Well, don't rip it yet. It's new," you hummed, pouting at him sweetly before you shrugged. Toying with the garter of your panties, you added, "Then again, you are the birthday boy, you can have your way however you may please."

Tom's eyes snapped back up to meet yours. There was a flicker in his orbs, like a switch, and that was when you knew he caught on that your words meant more than just the lingerie.

"The latter then," he concluded, sitting up straight before his hands patted his lap, beckoning you closer. "Come here."

You walked over to him slowly, making sure to sway your hips sensually, which made Tom shake his head at you with a low groan. Once you stood right in between his legs, you lifted a hand to grab his shoulder for support, ready to straddle his lap. That until he caught your wrist midway into the air.

Tom shook his head no, tutting with a menacing smirk. He brought your wrist to his lips, giving it sweet, chaste kisses before he slowly guided you to where exactly he wanted you. You felt your insides churn when he simply said, "On your stomach, my love."

With a sharp breath, you did as told, situating yourself on your stomach, your body sprawled right across his thick thighs. You shivered once Tom ran his fingers down your spine before tracing the fabric that hugged your body so delicately that it may have seemed like he wasn't even touching it at all. He was silent, merely admiring, and dare you say it, enjoying his view. If the certain hardness that was poking your stomach wasn't a dead giveaway, then the way he was breathing heavily, would. Yet once he spoke again, you felt your whole body fire up, every inch of your skin tingling with utter fervor and excitement.

"How old am I again, darling?"

You gulped. It was rhetorical, but an unanswered question could only do more harm than good for you.

"Twenty-five."

Tom only hummed in response. There was no use for words anyway when you felt his warm palm smooth over the supple flesh of your ass that was exactly in his line of sight, exposed for his and his sight only. Yet in contrast, the cold metal of his Rolex on your skin emitted another shiver from you, a shaky breath escaping your lips soon after.

Tom chuckled proudly at your reaction, a few seconds of silence floating over you both before a sudden, sharp smack rang in the air.

Your body jolted in utter surprise. The stinging sensation immediately covered your cheek at the harsh impact, starting from where Tom's hand once was before the heat spread to your very core as you breathlessly moaned,

"One."

-:-:-:-:-

thank you for reading love! like, reblog if you enjoyed and lemme know your thoughts! x

[blondiebarnes]

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?” 

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before. 

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him. 

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is 

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

[forever-rogue]

could you do a blurb in fatws where bucky and the reader have feelings for each other and zemo is trying to flirt with the reader?

Warnings: use of pet name [bunny], mention of toys, references to sex, possessive!Bucky, language, minors dni

A/N: Yuh, I would love to have Bucky and Zemo fight over me so here we are 😇

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked at Bucky’s back, biting your lip as you contemplated your next actions. You know what Zemo was trying to do; his half-masked attempts at flirting were not exactly subtle. And for some reason...you weren’t totally abhorred by the thought of Helmut Zemo making a move on you. He was handsome, that was easy to see, and it had been a while since you’ve had...anyone. Quite frankly your hand and toys weren’t cutting it anymore.

It wasn’t like you could wait for Bucky for forever. At some point you’d have to accept that either he didn’t feel the same way or he just wasn’t ever going to make a move. Over the past year your little back and forth with him continued to grow but it never amounted to anything besides a lingering touch here and there or longing looks thrown in the other’s direction when you thought they weren’t looking, and very flirtatious banter. But still...you could make a move on your own, but you were too stubborn - just like him.

Maybe Zemo wasn’t a bad choice after all. He’d been more friendly lately, making his desire for you known to everyone. In some ways it was a little bold and exhilarating; to have someone be this brazen in their desire for you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the possibility of having him.

“Tell me,” you accepted the drink he slid across the island at you, leaning over on your elbows so he could see down the front of your loose shirt. It wasn’t a subtle move, but at this point it didn’t matter, “when’s the last time you’ve been with anyone, Baron?”

Zemo almost looked startled by your question - almost. He kept his cool and took a long drag of his drink, finishing it off and setting it back down on the cool granite. The corners of his lips pulled into a wolfish smile as he studied you for a moment. You put on your best poker face as you tried not to let any of the cracks show, “it has been a while. Why little bunny? What’s got you so interested?”

“You look like you know how to touch a woman,” you threw back the rest of your drink, hoping it would work like liquid courage. Despite not being particularly loud, you could sense that Bucky heard you across the apartment, seeing his head turn slightly from the corner of your eye. This was a dangerous game indeed, and yet you were thrilled with it, “like you know just how to give me what I need.”

“Have you ever been with a man?” he asked suddenly as a tingle spread throughout your body. He took a step closer, slowly making his way over to you, “or have they all been boys?”

“Umm,” you were speechless as he leaned over and put his hand on your face, slowly stroking his thumb over your cheek. Your lips parted as you looked at him like a deer in headlights. He was close enough to where you could smell his aftershave and count every little freckle. He really was handsome, “n-no.”

“Are you scared little bunny?” he leaned in so his lips were just shy of yours and part of you was screaming to close the gap and kiss him, “you weren’t so shy before. Or are you afraid that you can’t handle it?”

“I-I can handle it,” you gasped as he ghosted his fingers along your jaw and down the column of your throat before lightly putting his whole hand around your throat. He was squeezing ever so slightly, but it was just enough to dizzy you and leave you wanting more, “please.”

While the two of you stared at each other, it was like the world had stopped existing and Bucky wasn’t in the adjacent room. He’d overheard every word, seen every little moment, attempting to compose himself, but it was getting harder with each passing second. You were his, not Zemo’s.

“You have such a smart little mouth,” he said slowly as he licked his lips, “I wonder if you’re able to put it to good use for something other than talking back. Are you going to let me-”

“Get your hands off of her,” the voice was cold as ice as the two of froze and slowly turned to find Bucky standing there, nothing but anger in his eyes. You swallowed the lump in your throat as Zemo removed his hand from your throat and crossed his arms over his chest, “she’s mine.”

“I wasn’t aware she belonged to anyone,” the two men stared at each other intently as you weren’t sure what to do, “I think the little bunny is free to do whatever she wants. Tell James what you want.”

“I…” you stared at the floor for a moment, studying your feet while you felt the two men studying you intently, “I...dunno.”

“Come on little bunny.”

“Umm…” you slowly looked up and then found your eyes wandering over to Bucky. He met yours with a steely gaze that caused a shiver to run down your spine and a tingling in your lower belly, “James.”

Zemo tuttled lightly, a small sound of disappointment as he looked between the two of you. He took a step back and nodded; the Baron was a lot of things, but he wasn’t about to impose or force himself on anyone. As soon as his name had left your lips, you seemed surprised that you’d said anything, a warm flush creeping into your neck and cheeks.

“And so she has made her choice,” Zemo said as he poured himself another drink, unfazed by the whole situation, “if you should ever choose to come to a different conclusion little bunny, do let me know.”

Without another word, he nodded at the two of you before clutching his drink and walking out of the kitchen, humming quietly under his breath. It was almost dead silent as he retreated and closed the door to his bedroom, leaving the two of you to stare silently at each other. Bucky’s gaze was unwavering and intense, and you felt as though you were slowly coming undone in front of him. When the silent became too great, you cleared your throat, ready to scramble away to your own quarters.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm in gentle, but firm grip, effectively stopping you in your tracks. You swallowed thickly as you turned to look back at him with nervous eyes. When you didn’t say anything, he raised an eyebrow, “I asked you a question: where do you think you’re going?”

“I…” you trailed off as you watched him look at you with hungry, dark eyes, pupils completely blown with lust, “just leaving.”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he practically growled as you left all of that go directly to your already aching cunt, “I meant what I said - you’re mine.”

“I thought you didn’t feel the same,” you were looking at much with such surprised innocence that it was a miracle Bucky didn’t take you then and there, “you never-”

“Guess I jus’ needed that asshole to remind me of how much you mean to me,” he released his grasp on your arm and gently reached up to touch your face. After all this time - you’d never been reading the signs incorrectly at all, “just the idea of him touching you disgusts me.”

“What are you going to do about it then, Buck?” you gripped his wrist and pulled his hand away, a challenging look on your face as you tilted your head to the side, “so far you’ve been all talk.”

Maybe the alcohol was suddenly working as a confidence boost. Normally you would have shied away or let him take full control but today you were feeling...confident. The fact that two grown men had all but fought over you didn’t hurt either.

“You want this?” he licked his lips as his eyes instinctively fell to yours. Of course you wanted this; you’d practically been throwing yourself at him for the last year. You nodded slightly and his smile just grew, stretching from ear to ear, “you better be real sure sweetheart. I won’t be gentle and I won’t be nice. You are mine in every way and you will do what I say. Understood?”

Your jaw was clutched in his hand and his grip was practically bruising. Your whole body was burning with lust and desire, wanting him to use you and mark you up as his, “I’m yours, Bucky. Use me as you please.”

“I’m going to like this,” this was a side you’d never seen before of him and you suddenly wondered why you’d never tapped into it before. Despite his words, you knew he would never truly hurt you, “you’re such a good little bunny, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you sighed, head already empty except for thoughts of him and what you wanted him to do to you, “I’ll be good.”

“Then on your knees,” he insisted as you readily complied, letting your knees hit the cool tile of the floor, “and do as I say.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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[bcdwhcre]

Hello!! :> May I request an imagine where Levi and reader are now exes and he becomes jealous after finding out reader has a new S/O?? Like I wanna know his reactions and behavior when he gets jealous hehe :)) also thank u so much for taking the time to write ur so talented 🥺

“Jealousy,” Levi x Reader

Summary: you and Levi have been separated for some time but once he finds out you have a new partner, he gets jealous and acts out of character.

Warnings: rough sex 🛐

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You and Levi have been broken up for what feels like forever but in reality has only been between six months to a year. You would admit the first few months were terrible, you considered Levi the first and only person you’ll be deeply in love with.

But time went on and someone had asked you out on a few dates then soon things were made official. You and Levi still somewhat talked, just as associates considering you worked in the scout regiment under Hange’s team.

Levi felt at fault for the break up and he wanted to desperately come back to you. The nights he would stand outside your door, debating whether or not he should knock would just end up with him leaving.

But one day when you were working at the base, your new boyfriend had made a unexpected visit to drop off some food for you.

You could feel Levi’s eyes burning into your back as you stood across the room talking with your boyfriend and holding the plate of food he had made for you. It was awkward, you felt nervous as your palms grew sweaty.

“Thank you.” You quietly said when it was time for him to go and he quickly placed a kiss on your lips before walking out the door.

The way your cheeks heated up as you walked back to the table, sitting down and your gaze met Levi’s intense deadly stare and you gulped the lump down in your throat.

The amount of jealousy he had felt running through his veins made his blood boil. He didn’t know about your new boyfriend and now that he has seen it first hand, he wanted to rip everyone apart.

The anger that was begging to be let out as he abruptly pushed the chair out and standing up before stomping down the hallway, making all the scouts watch him with a look of terror on their faces.

Angry Levi meant a lot of cleaning half the time but this time he was quiet and exited the room before he wanted to scream at you.

He loved you, he still loves you and the way his heart had broke and made his chest feel empty- he wanted to drop dead.

You knew why he stormed off but you didn’t want to bring yourself to go check if he was okay, you two weren’t together anymore and he had to face that reality.

But the side of you that cared for him too much was on the edge of your brain, forcing you to get up and go follow him. Your heart ached everyday when you would see him, your heart would break as you cried almost every night and you wanting him next to you but he blew his chance and you were over waiting for him to get over his ego.

Levi was in his office, throwing stuff around to release the anger boiling out of him. You heard glass shattering and things being thrown as you stood outside, debating whether or not you should see him.

Would seeing you make him more angry? Would it set him off? You didn’t know but you brought your small hand to the doorknob, slowly turning it and once it was open- you got a full view of how messy his office was and all the broken things laid out on the floor.

“Levi?” You said barley over a whisper, making his head snap towards where you were and the jealousy had lingered off of him at the sight of you.

You closed the door behind you, the look of sadness on your face as you looked around then walked over to where he stood, by the window with his focus back to it as he stared outside, not wanting to even look at you. It pained him.

He was quiet, the pain swelling up inside of him made his eyes water but he was good at swallowing his feelings and holding everything back.

As you stood behind him, your hand reaching up to rest on his shoulder- he flinched and shrugged it off in an instant and it had made your heart ache.

“Levi, please.. talk to me.”

His head turned to look down at you, the way he let out a chuckle then started to laugh as he shook his head. He felt as if you were pretending to care about his well being and he thought it was funny.

“Why the hell are you here, Y/N? To piss me off more? To make me more jealous? Because it’s working.” He said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you again.

“What? No, I wanted to make sure you’re alright..” Levi cut you off as he glared at you.

“If I’m alright? Seriously? Is that some fucking joke? Why not take the rest of the day off and go spend it with your new toy. Why not this? You’re fired.” Everything had rushed out of his mouth in the heat of the moment, the anger edged him on even more.

Your eyes went wide, listening to his words and you grew silent for a moment. You had so much love for him, even till this day you did and you couldn’t express how much it hurt you to see him like this.

“Levi, please.”

“Just fucking leave, alright?”

“No.” You said out loud, making his body turn to face you and the scary look on his face had terrified you a bit but deep down, you knew it was just because he was hurting.

“No?”

“No..” You started to say with more confidence, shaking your head at him as you opened your mouth to speak again.

“Levi, I still love you and I think I’ll always love you. You were everything to me, you are everything to me. Seeing you like this sucks because I never wanted to hurt you but I couldn’t continue waiting around for you to come back.. I waited and cried all alone for you and you never came. How is that fair? Did you want me to wait forever? Did you want me to wait for years for you to drop your stupid ass ego to come back and actually love me?” He stared at you, stunned and the water that had built up in your eyes had made him soften up a bit.

The guilt washing over him had made it painful to even look at you but the image of your boyfriend kissing you continued to replay in his mind which just kept his anger there, he was angry and couldn’t think straight as he cupped your face and smashed his lips on yours.

The kiss was rough, full of jealousy and anger but also full of passion. The same sparks and fireworks you felt when you were with him were still there. Levi had this hold on you, captivating you and keeping you in place. You were still deeply in love with him and he knew that while you had kissed him back.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was wrong. You knew you should pull away but you let it continue and you let Levi back you up until the back of your legs had hit the edge of his desk, his hands pushing you down as your back was pressed on the hard wood with his body hovering over you while keeping his lips in place on yours.

The more time passed by, the more angry he gotten. His rough lips biting and sucking on spots of your neck as your hands tugged on the strands of his hair.

“Levi- wait,” You suddenly said, the feeling of guilt washing over you but Levi didn’t care.

His darkened eyes met with yours, you could still see the anger and the rage behind them as a lump formed in your throat, making you too scared to speak up but he caught on.

“Hm?” He hummed, a evil smile coming across his face as his hand wrapped around your throat and moved his face to hover over yours, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“I want to remind you who you belong to.”

You gulped down the lump in your throat, your eyes staying on his as he smirked and placed one gentle kiss on your lips as his hand on your throat tightened slightly.

“I want you to go home tonight to that toy of yours and remember who made you feel this good. I want you reminded that you’re mine and always will be no matter what boy you bring home.” His words were like poison but at the same time it had you addicted, the way his harsh words had turned you on more than what you thought was possible.

Levi knew you didn’t want him to stop, he knew he had you weak under his touch as his lips continued to trail down your neck, his fingers soon grabbing your shirt and practically ripping open the buttons, some of them popping clean off and landed on the floor of his office.

He was quick to throw every piece of clothing off, including his own and he had moved to where he stood in front of his desk, dragging your legs forward as he pulled you to sit up on the edge, his lips back on yours.

He wasn’t gentle with any of his movements, he wanted to leave you with marks and wanted to leave reminders on your body on who did this. The jealousy only fed his ego and fed into how rough he was being with you.

The way he took no time to rest his hand on your lower while he thrusted into you with no warning, making a loud noise slip out of your mouth and into his. His other hand went up to your hair, grabbing a handful and yanked your head back as he looked down at you.

One of your hands had a tight hold of his bicep, nails digging into his skin while the other held onto the edge of his desk to keep you sitting upright but the more harder he thrusted, the harder it was for you to even sit up straight.

He made sure you kept your eyes on his, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing your mouth open, a wide smirk on his face before he hovered over your mouth, spitting into it and forcing your mouth closed.

His actions had you almost cumming on command. Half of it felt wrong but your body ached and pushed towards him the more he touched you. No thoughts of the consequences later, just thoughts on Levi and the way he knew how to make you feel good in seconds.

“Now tell me who you belong to.” He abruptly said, making your teeth latch down onto your bottom lip to muffle your moans but his hand held onto your throat, waiting for an answer.

“Y- you.” You stuttered, your face mixing with pleasure as you tried to keep your eyes open.

“Say it again.” He had leaned down, licking a strip up your throat and place his mouth right below your jawline.

“I’m yours, Levi.” You said with a bit more confidence, your voice still shaky as your legs started to shake against his torso.

Everything had sent you over the moon, the way his hips were perfectly slapping against yours and the way he would purposely moan into your ear so you can hear how good you’re making him feel- it was all sending you over the edge.

You didn’t realize how much you had missed Levi until this point. You didn’t realize how hot he could be when he was insanely jealous. You should’ve done this a long time ago to be treated like this, it was addicting.

“That’s my girl.” The three words had slipped off his tongue and his eyes had met yours, instantly making you more weak than what you felt right now.

He knew you were close just by the way your legs started to shake while your walls gripped around his length and he was purposely trying to get you to cum just by using his words and it worked right after he had said those three words, instantly making you throw your head back and cum around him, your body growing sensitive as his thrusts continued.

Levi finally pulled out of you after he filled you up completely, his tongue running over his lips and he grabbed a hold of your hair again to force you to meet his gaze. His lips pressed against yours, this time it was gentle and soft and he took his time to move his lips in sync with yours.

You were breathless, your eyes looking over Levi’s bare chest when you pulled back from his mouth and it had made you feel butterflies all over again.

“I better see you at my doorstep tonight after you let that toy know who you really belong to.” He mumbled, his fingers combing through your hair and he looked at you with so much love and pain because he didn’t want to let you go again.

“I’ll be at your place before nine, promise.”

“Good.”

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Bruh I know this request didn’t say smut but I couldn’t resist pls. Jealous Levi would definitely throw you over a desk and rail your shit and I would let him🛐

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[lustbile]

Hold On

TaeyongxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warnings: based of this really old post here. Smut, stuffed animal kink?

first fic on the new blog! I’m losing my mind,

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You’d be slightly embarrassed to admit that the second Taeyong handed you the stuffed animal, it was as if it glued itself to your hands.

Yes you were slightly obsessed with the soft toy, but in your defense, it was the first present the boy had ever presented to you. Not only that, but it was also incredibly soft and, in its time spent hidden in Taeyong’s room as he tried to build the courage to give it to you, it had become permanently marked with his scent. These things, combined with its size, made it a perfect pillow.

So it never moved an inch from its corner of your bed. Waiting patiently every day for you to curl up, ready for sleep, and for you to pull it tightly into your chest. The only times it went untouched for the night, is the times you instead found yourself laid in the nest that was Taeyong’s bed, and it’s job as your pillow being taken over by his warm chest.

It was just a teddy bear. As classic as it could get with its brown fur and button eyes, but something about seeing it for the first time made Taeyong immediately think of you. You hadn’t been officially dating for too long, but he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t buy it right then and there, he just never anticipated how much nerve he’d have to build to actually give it to you.

But when he finally did, he was sure he had never seen something so adorable. The way your face lit up as you pulled it tightly against your chest, your neck bending slightly as you pressed your face into the fur. He could feel his chest tighten in endearment and his voice came out in nervous stutters when you thanked him with the same warm smile that was starting to feel exactly like home.

And he told himself, your reaction was what he found so cute. Yeah you holding it and cuddling into it was cute, but he was focused on your happiness.

So he didn’t really understand the way his stomach flipped when you let him into your room only days after to watch some movies and he saw it sitting perfectly next to your pillow as if it was waiting to see him again.

He shook off the weird feeling quickly, telling himself that he was just happy that you enjoyed the gift so much. And for that night it worked, and you innocently watched movies without a problem.

It wasn’t until about a week later did he have to admit that there was something else going on.

Same setting as the movie night only a handful of days before. Warm and cuddled into your bed, the sound softly pumping from the speakers of your tv. The soft brown teddy bear placed in his designated spot next to your pillow.

The only difference was his tongue rolling slowly over your clit and the quiet moans that fell from your lips.

The atmosphere in your room is so much softer than he’s ever experienced when he’s done stuff like this. Your muscles are completely loose as you sink into your mattress, the pleased noises you let out and the way your fingers tangle in his hair are the only indications that you’re still awake, as when his mouth first touched you, your eyes were sliding shut.

Your legs lay loosely against his back as he works you with his hot tongue. There’s no sense of urgency or impatience, allowing him to get a full taste of the arousal that builds between your legs. His hands smooth gently across the warm skin of your stomach letting him feel the muscles underneath the skin tense every time he hits a spot you particularly enjoy.

The second noises started coming from your pretty lips, his eyes had been trained on you. Watching the way the muscles in your face twitch and your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks every time he sucks the flesh of you clit tightly between his lips.

“Fuck Tae, I’m gonna come,” you whisper a warning, your fingers tightening around his scalp. He happily hums against you making you jerk and groan. He’s so enthralled by the way you start to squirm in pleasure, he’s thrown completely off guard at the feeling that hits him when you do it.

The hand that isn’t caught tangled in his hair starts to move eratically. He’s seen it before when you two had messed around. The promise of an orgasm making you so delirious your fingers would desperately search for something to ground you, but seeing that you usually only mess around in his room, you tend to find solace in crumpled up sheets. But in your bed, your fingers instead lock around your beloved teddy bear, and you’re pulling it to rest against your shoulder as you start to come hard on his waiting tongue.

You don’t seem to notice the quiet gasp he lets out when he sees this, as you’re too caught up with the orgasm that rips at your core. Luckily, regardless of his shock, he’s still able to lav his tongue against you to make it last just moments longer.

He’s unfamiliar with the feeling that claws at his stomach as he watches you twitch and shake with the stuffed toy lovingly gripped in your fingers. Something about it is so sweet and endearing while simultaneously makes him feel like he’s losing his mind.

He’s so thrown off by it, he decides to not bring it up, and even when you’re desperately pleading for him to let you wrap your lips around him in return, he can only wrap you in his arms and your blanket and tell you that it’s too late and you need to go to sleep.

And for a while after that, he didn’t really have to think about it. His room is the usual setting for your sexual escapades, that one time in yours was just an act of taking advantage that your roommate was out visiting family. So realistically he should have just put it aside and forgot about it, but that would just be too easy.

He thinks about it often. The scenes of it flashing randomly through his mind while he works or plays games, and he even shamefully thought about it when he was alone and touching himself to the thought of you. But it was at its absolute worst when you were together. Every time he pushed a whine past your lips, or when you started to come around him, a little demon in his brain would say, ‘now imagine if there was that cute little bear you got, just in perfect arms reach to grab.’

He just didn’t get it! What was it about you holding it as you came that got in his head so much. The amount of time he spent staring blankly at the wall trying to pick apart this new kink of his was bordering embarrassing, but he decided it was a combination of things. First, he always liked stuffed animals, he had a few himself that he’d push to the floor when you came to stay. Second, he liked you, a lot (that being a very easy factor to discover), and he liked making you come just as much.

Another factor was he knew it had something to do with it being a gift he gave you and how you would even refer to it as his bear as if he still owned it in some way. But the last, and probably most prominent factor, was that it was just cute enough to be corruptible. He knew that something about him making you feel so good and come so hard, that your mind would go blank, so blank that the first thing you’re subconscious mind would turn to is the soft and warm comfort item that he bought you, made him feel unhinged.

And he wanted to do it again.

——

First, he wanted to test if it was just that bear, or if it could be any stuffed toy he had a connection to.

You were coming over again and he was dead set on fucking you. This was this least uncommon thing in the world, but this time he just forgot to move one stuffed animal off his bed before he had sat down in only a pair of loose sweatpants to play games.

The large baby pink rabbit laid in the center of his bed when you walked in, seemingly keeping it warm as he sat at his desk playing games. You had seen it before so it hadn’t shocked you, but it was odd that he hadn’t moved it to sit on the floor at the end of his bed like usual.

But you weren’t one to complain, about the toy at least, so you just flopped as loudly onto his bed as possible and began calling his name and jokingly begging for attention like you’d do any other time.

He felt like an evil genius as he turned his chair slowly to face you, a deceivingly sweet smile pulling on his lips when he saw you had already claimed the soft rabbit without thought, the toy that had been seeped in his scent now tucked into your chest as you all but spoon it with your nose pressed against its ear. And his heart beat only ran faster when, as he stood to walk over to where you lay, he saw the way you subconsciously hug it tighter as if you feared he’d take it from you.

“You like the new friend you found?” He asks it in a taunting tone.

“Well yeah,” you keep your hold on the toy as you turn to lay on your back, your legs falling open as he stands between them, “you always put it away from me, so I have to take as much time with it as I can get.”

“Well then I won’t put it away this time baby since you like it so much,” he finishes his words with a huff, his eyes trailing across the scene below him. The way you’re laid out, soft and comfortable against his bedding while holding the toy, you’re so pretty and sweet smiling up at him, it’s enough to push him to put his plan into action.

“You don’t plan on letting it go at any point tonight?” he asks with a slight teasing tone, but the expression he wears tells you he still expects an answer. You shake your head softly in response, tightening your arms around it and your legs around his hips to prove it even more, “well if that’s the case…”

His fingers wrap around the bend of your knees, pulling them up higher on his hips and tugging you down the bed enough that your crotch brushes against his. He only grins and runs his cold fingers up your thighs when you grumble in response.

“do you think you can still hold on to it while I fuck you?” he asks so casually, a tilt to his head being the only indication of his mischievous mind set, that it throws you off for a moment.

“While you what?” you finally find the push to respond, your brain taking a moment to piece your thoughts together.

“While I fuck you,” he enunciates clearly, his eyes boring into yours as he reaches for the band of your pajama shorts.

He leaves you stuttering and shocked as his cold fingers dip below the fabric of your underwear, and as you lie there still trying to process his words, he tugs your shorts and underwear down and throws them behind his shoulder.

“What do you say baby?” he doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s bending forward, his head tilting as if he is scolding you as he pushes a slender finger into where your arousal begins to build, “you’d like to hold onto your cute little friend while I ruin you wouldn’t you.”

“Fuck Tae please,” you finally gasp out, your hips tilting towards him and your nails sinking into the soft fur of the rabbit.

“So cute,” he coos at you as he slowly works you with one finger, brushing his chapped lips and nose over the skin of your face as he waits for you to get wet enough for a second.

When he finally does, you’re panting. Your breath warm and gasping as his middle and ring fingers pump into you faster than you had mentally prepared for.

The heel of his palm digs into your clit while his greedy mouth devours the skin of your neck, and the pleasure that shoots throughout your nerves leaves you whining and squirming beneath him.

You don’t need to answer his original question. With the way he works you now, you can’t imagine letting the grip you have on his stuffed animal go even if you wanted. The soft fur being the only thing grounding you as you fall apart around his fingers.

He’s brought back to the first moment in your room when he hears the whining pitch that you fall into with your moans. The flush of warmth that runs over him from noises you make makes his whole body tense and causes a chain reaction when his fingers curl inside you, making you yelp in shock.

The growl he lets out when your free hand grabs his bicep and your nails dig into his skin is involuntary, but the harsh bite he sinks into your neck is retaliation.

You sound like you're bordering on hyperventilating when he sucks the skin between his teeth into his mouth to form a bruise, and with only a few more rolls of his palm, you feel pleasure shoot up your spine as you start to come.

Your eyes are watering as you wrap yourself around him, the toy squishing between your shoulders as you cling to him and whine. His fingers don’t slow down in the slightest as he works you through the orgasm, the way you tremble and curl around him with the toy still in your hold has his mind reeling and he can’t push himself to calm down.

Your mind is still fuzzy when he finally pulls away, and with the quickness of his motions, you don’t even connect that his fingers aren’t still pressed into you.

His still wet fingers curl around the bend of your knee, and he's pushing your knee towards your chest before you can even collect your scattered mind, and it's not until he’s sinking into you inch by inch do you come back to reality with a gasp.

“Look at my sweet baby,” he taunts as he shallowly rocks into you. His free hand trails up your side, taking a moment to tug at the rabbit and smile at the way you defensively hold it tighter, before wrapping his fingers gently around your neck, “you’re just so sensitive that you need your little friend huh?”

“Pleeeease,” your voice shakes as you let out the only word your shivering body allows.

He stands straight now as he harshly knocks into you, leaving your free hand to grasp frantically his crumpled sheets as your pushed higher on the bed.

He’s had you beneath him more times than he could count, every time he remembers as being more amazing than he could imagine, but something about this is different.

Your chest radiates warmth as you pant and moan, the muscles in your legs twitching harshly as you try to keep up with the pleasure you feel. Your eyes flutter as you try to watch him, your body rocks subconsciously as you try to match his motions, and you clench tightly around him making him spill just as many noises as you.

Though, of everything you do, the one thing he can’t pull his eyes away from, is the way you still cling onto his toy.

He had convinced himself that, even if you agreed to it, that the stuffed toy would be long forgotten once things got started, but the way you lay in front of him now, tells him you have no intention of letting go.

He can almost feel his heart beat in his throat as he watches you. The way you curl and arch against his bed, how cute you look in your old tshirt with the rabbit’s head pushing gently against your temple, makes him feel like he’s been handed heaven on a silver platter.

He can't imagine anything more beautiful than the scene in front of him, until he sees your hand wandering again.

Instead of reaching for his shoulder or his hands like usual, your fingers trail down your own skin. The way your face twists in pleasure tells him your hand moves with almost no thought, and before he can move to grab it, your rolling your clit softly beneath the pads of middle and ring fingers.

“You wanna come again that bad?” he doesn’t mean to sound mean when he asks, but there’s a mischievous energy in his chest he’s never really felt before this moment. He can’t help the pridefulness and glee he feels at you being so willing to indulge in his off requests, and he admits right then that this is something he’ll never let go. That night so long ago wasn’t a fluke at all, but rather you whining and moaning as you fall apart around him was just as beautiful and raunchy as he had hoped.

“Pretty little thing, you’ve always been insatiable,” he would have almost felt like a school bully with the way he spoke to you, but the shivering and puppy eyes he gets from you in response only encourages him.

“Please Taeyong, please please make me come,” you pout and plead up at him, the feeling you crave only a few pushes away as your stomach flutters and flexes in anticipation and pleasure, “want you to come in me so bad.”

He feels something inside him snap at the words that push past your lips, and the hand around your neck and his thrusts only become rougher. A yelping gasp that comes from you is the only thing he needs to know he’s done exactly what you wanted.

With a few more rolls of your cramping fingers, you're coming hard around him. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the first, the way he continues to stretch you pushing you through every second, and all you can do is squeeze the toy rabbit as your back arches sharply off the bed.

He loses the grip on your knee as your legs wrap around him, and the way you force him against you and the way you feel wrapped around him sets his own orgasm off. The pleasure making his chest press against your as you two rock against one another mindlessly.

His voice is raspy and dark as he lets out his own moans into your ear, and the noises only make you grasp for him to pull him closer. Your fingers curl into his hair as you return to a position similar to the one you only had momentarily after your first orgasm, but this time your clinging pushes him to the side and his moans slip into endeared chuckles, grunts, and groans.

You make no move to let him slip from you as he softens inside you, but instead you wiggle until your face is pressed into the dip of his neck and the rabbit is pressed against his side as you hold them both. You’re still racked with aftershocks, and the only thing you two can do is twitch against each other as every motion pushes him against the nerves inside you, making overstimulation bite at both of your bellies.

After what feels like an eternity of laying there, the only sounds surrounding you is your own panting and the quiet sound of the pause screen music coming from his game. But with a quiet huff and his fingers pushing under your shirt to run over your spine, he finally speaks again.

“Sorry… if that was ...weird,” he sounds unsure of his wording, sucking air through his teeth as he rolls his thoughts around his mind, but you only cuddle further into him in response, “I get it if that’s not something you’d ever want to do again.”

“Hm?” you let the noise slip out in confusion as it takes the words and your previous actions connect, “oh the stuffed animal?”

“Yeah that was… I could have asked before instead of springing it on you like that, that was kind of weird,” you can hear him grit his teeth in hesitation, “and I know you’re into the dirty talk thing but I was a little harsh. It was all just weird I’m sorry.”

“Taeyong,” you push up with your elbow on the bed to move just far enough away to look into his eye, “I mean if you’d be more comfortable bringing it up beforehand when you want to try something then of course, but no what just happened was really hot.”

“Are you serious?”

You have to jerk back slightly with a laugh when he springs up slightly with his own words, but the way you grin at him calms him almost instantly.

“Yeah I mean, the way you acted and everything, and I’m absolutely not against getting to hold onto something while you fuck me, I liked it,” you let out a dramatically airy sigh as you lay against him again, a question popping into your mind once you’re settled.

“Where did this idea even come from, I’m usually never anywhere near your stuffed animals when I come over?”

“Oh, um I doubt you remember but one day when I was at your place, you grabbed that little bear I got you when you were coming and I just never could stop thinking about it,” he admits trailing off towards the end, almost shameful.

“My bear!” you’re sitting up again, a scandalized look on your face as you swat at his chest, “that’s my most prized possession you pervert!”

“Hey! You’re the one that grabbed it while coming, pervert!”

[omg-imatotalmess]

Your Turn

Hey guys! So, y'all can thank Skirt anon for this absolutely wonderful idea. They really outdid themselves offering me an idea like this because I literally couldn't stop thinking about it. Like, I really just went head too full. Hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader

Based on this ask: Ok I had a ✨thot✨for sub Harry- basically having him riding ur strap and it's a larger one than he's used to and even with prep he's squirming around.

"It's too big!" (He's fine it's just for the scene) and you just kiss away his tears and bring him down harder and thrust up a little and as it presses into his prostate, he lets out a cry as he has the most powerful orgasm of his life without you even touching his dick

-skirt anon

Warnings: Smut, sub!harry, dom!reader, pegging, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), slight praise kink, swearing

                                                            ---

Art came in many forms: songs played for generations, paintings in museums, sculptures that endured lifetimes, but none that rivaled Harry. More specifically, Harry as he was just then. Eyes clenched shut, and tear tracks down his flushed face as he slid inch after inch of your strap into him. You'd never seen any piece of art more worthy of praise or more breathtaking than him. And completely yours. Only for you to see. A smile graced your lips at the thought, and you trailed your eyes over his trembling body again. You'd never seen anything more exquisite in your life.

"Beautiful," you murmured.

"(Y/N)," he whined, hands tightening on your shoulders. Gently, you ran your hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles jump under your attentions and the strain of holding himself up. You bucked your hips, sliding a little more of your cock into him. A strangled moan filled the air around you.

"What's the matter?" you asked as if you didn't already know.

"It's too big!" he sobbed.

"But you're nice and full, aren't you? All stuffed full of my cock. That's what you wanted, sweet boy," you said. More tears dripped down his cheeks as you thrust in again.

"Yes!" he cried breathily. Leaning forward, you began peppering kisses all over his face and neck. You couldn't tell if the slightly salty taste was from sweat or tears, but it made you shiver anyway. The effect you had on him always made you a little breathless. It took so little to have him shaking and crying on your strap. And you were the only one that got to see this stunning creature this way. Trailing your fingers back up his thighs, you latched onto his hips. Perhaps with a little more force than necessary, hoping to see the bruises tomorrow.

"Show me how much you love it then. Fuck that pretty ass on my cock," you purred.

"I can't, I can't. (Y/N)!" he moaned, voice pitching up and cracking on your name.

"Then let me help you, baby," you said. And in one fluid movement, you dragged him down on you and slammed your hips up. The resounding howl rattled the windows, making you glad you'd remembered the silencing charm.

You set your hips at a punishing pace, driving your strap into him without allowing him time to gather his thoughts. All he managed to get out were strangled sobs and mewling sounds that might have been some version of your name. At some point, he'd wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you as close as he could get you. Tears and sweat mixed as they dripped onto the skin of your collar bone and little punched-out breaths fanned across your cheeks. You couldn't stop.

"Too much! More, please, more!" he begged, slamming his hips down in a sloppy rhythm.

"That's my good boy," you panted.

"I can't! Too much! I need more!" You weren't sure if he was even aware that he was speaking at this point, but you didn't care. It didn't matter. Your golden boy needed more, and you were damn well going to give him as much as he could handle.

"Are you gonna cum for me, Harry?" you asked, digging your hands into the soft flesh of his ass.

"Yes! Please, please, so much!" he babbled. His cock twitched violently where it was trapped between your stomachs. A wicked smile cut across your lips as you pressed him back so that delicious friction came away from his overly slick cock.

"I want you to cum from my cock and my cock alone. Can you do that for me?" you asked. The answer you got was a simple incoherent cry. His bouncing became more frantic. You were just enjoying being about to watch his angry red cock bob in front of you.

"So hard for me. What a good boy," you cooed.

"Harder! Use me!" Harry's desperate plea shook you down to your core. Electricity shot up and down your spine as you slammed up into him again. Judging by the howl, you'd hit his prostate dead on. Then something savage awoke in you.

Shoving him onto his back, you hiked his legs over your shoulders and thrust into him with a surprising amount of force. All you could focus on was fucking him through the mattress. Being too much. Being the only thing he could think about, then forcing him not to think at all. And you were. His back arched as he sobbed out long whining moans so forceful you wondered if he was past words. Vaguely, you could feel his hands curl into your hair. The slight pull drove you harder into him. You could barely hear the slapping skin over the cacophony of moans. Hips bucking up erratically, head thrown back with the tendons of his neck bulging, Harry let out the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

"(Y/NNNN)!" he howled, drawing out your name into a near scream as he came.

The sight of him with his eyes rolled back in his head as he painted his chest and your stomach with his cum was nearly enough to send you over the edge. It almost did. Slowly, you rocked your hips into him, letting him ride it out until he finally went limp. You stilled for a moment, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"You alright, love?" you asked, sliding your strap from him.

"Brilliant," he slurred, peering up at you with his eyes just barely open.

"Good," you said, "Did you like that? Was it okay?"

"Brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant," he said. Harry gave you a lazy smile that made your heart squeeze. The amount of affection you had for him was a little overwhelming. "Your turn."

"Wha-" Before you could fully answer, he rolled over until he laid over you.

"Let me finish you off, yeah?" he asked.

"Please do," you said.

"Can I- can I use my mouth?" For a moment, he looked almost a little shy, which was a bit laughable considering you'd just fucked him within an inch of his life.

"Fuck yeah," you breathed, letting your head drop back into the pillows.

You felt him hook your legs comfortably over his shoulders, and a hot breath caressed your slick skin. A shiver coursed through you. You hadn't realized how worked up you were until just then. Then your thoughts cut out entirely. Harry dragged his tongue over you, lapping gently at your lips, looking up at you to carefully watch your expression. You swore this gorgeous boy would be the death of you. He did it again. This time just barely flickering inside. Humming, you threaded your fingers into his hair.

"Good boy. Just like that," you sighed.

Harry was always a gentle lover despite the way he liked you to treat him in bed. He saw to your needs with the utmost care, with soft sweeps of his tongue, never rushing anything, building you up until you couldn't stand it, and you love him for it. All he ever asked in return was that you told him he was doing it right. And by god, you could do that for him. With every flick of his tongue over your clit and easy swirling over you, you let him know how good he was. You let every little sound he pulled from you slip out unchecked. Every sound seemed to tell him exactly where you needed him most. His hands massaged your legs in the most intoxicating way that had you going boneless under them. Pulling your thighs further apart, he pressed his face more into you.

"You taste so good. God, I love it," he muttered against you, toying with your clit.

"Good. Harry, so fucking good!" you groaned.

"You drive me crazy when you say my name like that, you know?" he said, genuine amazement coloring his voice. You arched your back, keening at the sound. You felt like you might be floating. Or losing your mind.

"Shit, that's it," you hissed.

You'd lost track of what he was doing. Whether it was his hands or his mouth on you didn't make a difference. With everything that had taken place, you were teetering so close to the edge you couldn't think. You didn't care to. Harry worked around your clit again just the way you needed him to, and you felt your hips jump up. So close.

"Please cum in my mouth," Harry pleaded, the words slightly muffled.

And you were falling over the edge. Your voice choked off into a soundless moan as you arched against him. Your thighs shook uncontrollably. The rhythmic rolling of your hips that you'd just noticed turned to jittery, forceful thrusts against his lips, grinding for all you were worth. Harry simply stayed there, licking up every drop of slick you gave until you relaxed. Only when you began pushing his head away did he really stop.

"Harry," you sighed for no other reason than saying his name.

"Was that good?" he asked, green eyes staring up at you through pieces of displaced hair.

"Jesus, yeah. You're always good," you said. Smiling, he crawled back up, covering your body with his own.

"You too. I mean, so are you," he said. Laughing, you pressed a kiss against his messy lips and let yourself relax against the sheets. Both of you were in desperate need of a shower, but you had the feeling that would have to come later. When Harry snuggled under your chin, you decided you didn't really mind.