#brim flies

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Word Count ~1k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ blood and gore, character death, eventual smut(not in this chapter)

Excerpt ~ You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.

You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and a long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers.

They’re getting better at the replication.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

You know it’s not Francis peering at you through the glass window.

You know it, even though he looks exactly like him, every feature carefully duplicated: the sleep deprived smudges on the frail skin underneath his eyes, the narrow chin and long nose, that unblemished complexion as smooth and pale as the milk he delivers. They’re getting better at the replication. It’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart from real humans now.

Yet there’s still something off. Something in the way the flesh sits on his bones. Almost a shift, like a mirage in the desert: a shimmery, not quite real haze that’s there and gone again in the blink of an eye. He lays his fingers against the glass, splayed directly across from your face. The pretender’s lips curve into a smile. “Let me in,” he says, and it’s identical to the real milkman’s voice, that same sleepy, gentle tone you’re used to hearing day in and day out, and your heart lurches. When had it happened? When had he been taken? During a delivery? Lured into some back alley? Some devious doppelgänger asking for help, maybe, and of course he’d obliged, he was kind like that, he’d never refuse anyone. You envision the wire rack cradling the bottles of dairy product dropping from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering. White mixing with the bright red blood that leaks out of him all over the pavement.

You wince at the gruesome image. Poor, trusting, foolish man.

“Let me in,” he says again, and the words drag at something deep inside of you. A glint of something feral in the dark eyes now. This imposter knows you can sense his deception. “I know what you need. I can give it to you…”

Another chord strummed on the string of your spine, vibrating along your body. Had he taken over Francis’ thoughts? Sorting through the milkman’s memories like digging through a box of old photographs, perhaps. Choosing which ones to keep and which ones to discard. Had the unfortunate third floor resident known about your hopeless crush? He must have. How else would this creature target your desires so readily? The knowledge of this wounds you. Francis had known, and he hadn’t acted on that knowledge. No return of your feelings. Maybe he’d just been shy.

Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.

“You must be so tired, working so hard. You deserve to rest. Collect a reward.” His tongue darts out to moisten his lips and this is the first foreign gesture that completely confirms your suspicions: this is not Mr. Mosses.

Everything you need is right in front of you. The entryway door is still securely locked. The rotary phone is mere inches away. You can call in the team at any time now. Save everyone. Except for Francis, of course; it was too late for him.

“Sweetheart, please let me in.” Attracting flies with honey. His voice dripping affection. His fingertips blanch against the glass. The brim of his cap slides further down his brow. A single track of perspiration leaks down his cheek. The body still fighting, even now. Resisting. Rejecting the invader. But it was too little, too late.

“I can’t let you in.”

His head snaps up and the eyes are bloodshot, spidery lines of crimson streaking across the white orbs. A thin trail of saliva drips from one corner of his mouth. “Can’t, or won’t?” Straight to vinegar now. Acidic tone. It lashes against you. You’re shaking.

“I know what you are,” you declare in a whisper.

The replicant raises his free hand, fingers curling into a fist before striking the pane. It rattles in its casing and you gasp. You’d always thought the material was shatterproof. “You don’t know anything. How can you? You run unchallenged for a small fraction of years and you think you know all there is to in the universe. Such arrogant, fragile things you are,” he murmurs, and the sudden calm unnerves you even more than the rage.

You begin to reach for the receiver and his fingers slide down the glass, squeaking as they go. “Wait. Don’t do that.”

You pause, hand still outstretched. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You do have a choice. You don’t have to be one of the mindless sheep.” His nostrils flare, inhaling deeply. “Francis loved that fragrance you wear. He liked so many things about you. You’ll never know how much if you make that call.”

You suck in a sharp breath. Was it true? Or just a ruse to get you to spare him? “He’s gone. There’s no getting him back now.” Your voice warbles, your fingers trembling as you reach again. Making contact with the ebony plastic this time.

“He’s right here. You could have him. All you have to do is let me in.”

You lift the receiver from the handset cradle. The spiral cord connecting the two sways like a tightrope beneath an acrobat walking its length. You feel like that performer. Teetering on the edge between life and death. Yours. The people in the building. You have a duty to protect them.

The uniformed man’s eyes slide closed. Dark lashes light as moth’s wings kissing his cheeks. He’s humming softly. A melody you’d heard every time Francis had left for his route. The tune unfamiliar. But it’s his. Had always been unique to him. Why hadn’t you asked what song it was? Why hadn’t you…

The handset drops back down and the dial tone is silenced. His eyes reopen. “Let me in, love.” The softest, sweetest smile. You reach for the buzzer. Staring at your hand as if you don’t recognize it as your own. “I’ll give you everything you want, sweet girl.” Nearly to the button now. “There you go. Just a little more.” Contact. The light flashes and the magnetic locks release, granting the doppelgänger access.

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗯𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱

daughter of aphrodite! reader x luke castellan 💘

IN WHICH.. luke would carry the world on his shoulders for the approval of your mother

warning! this fic contains- like two cuss words // feminine reader // one slight reference to sex (lukes a virgin lolol) // not proofread (yet)

🎧- bewitched by laufey

3.3k

You had always been the favorite of your mother, Aphrodite. With the way she frequently delivered extravagant gifts, ranging from beauty supplies to carefully crafted swords, it was clear you were granted special treatment from the typically vain goddess. Others grew envious of your glorious relationship, watching from afar as you had yet another conversation with her. 

The unfortunate truth was that you worked your ass off to receive a fraction of affection from your mother. Waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready, biting your tongue as others gossiped about you, and training hours per day were just some of the cruel circumstances you had to endure in order to keep up your facade. Everything about you had to be seemingly perfect, which is hard to maintain when living in such harsh conditions.

Your ethereal beauty and charming personality gained the attention of many, making Aphrodite proud. However, no matter how many demigods asked you out, they were all politely declined. This wasn’t a personal choice, but instead one forcefully implemented by your mom. 

Every camper knew of the strange rule the goddess had set for you. Not one soul would be allowed to take you on a date without her approval. Unfortunately for you, she was extremely strict and harsh when choosing. It was odd that the ruler of love would prevent her dearest kin from experiencing the joys of having a partner, but the gods did little with rationality.

During your weekly prayer one evening, you found yourself pondering why Aphrodite seemed to reject all suitors. Seeking answers, you broached the subject with her. In response, Aphrodite professed a desire for nothing but the best for you, her words punctuated by the subtle shifts in her mood. Intrigued by her cryptic response, you couldn't help but remain curious, uncertain whether she spoke the truth or spun another detailed tale.

Among the crowd of diligent campers who showered you with attention, there remained one who truly stood out. Luke Castellan, the offspring of Hermes, had harbored a profound admiration for you from the moment of your arrival. While others were fixated solely on your captivating exterior, he found himself drawn to the depths of your enchanting personality. Your passionate expression for the things that ignited your soul—be it delving into the mysteries of ancient artworks or nurturing the vibrant flower fields—held him spellbound.

One day, the immense ache in his lovelorn heart became too agonizing to bear. As the sun awoke from its slumber and you elegantly devoured a ripe pear, he asked you to follow him into the lush forest. Despite the slightly sketchy request, you obliged, trusting Luke with your whole heart.

"I hate to sound blunt, but why are we here again?" You queried, batting away pesky flies and dodging branches that lunged out intrusively.

"I'm determined to take you out," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with confidence, but you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt creep in as you cringed with uncertainty.

“Luke, you know how my mom feels-“ 

“Yeah, I know how your mom feels. But how do you feel?” He blurted, his coffee brown eyes staring deep into yours, and for a moment, you saw the deepest part of him that was hidden from the rest of the world. 

“What’d mean?” You questioned him, trying to wrap your head around his statement, like it was a foreign concept for someone to ask how you perceived the situation.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” Luke whispered.

“I’d love to, but she-“ His response was accompanied by a light shake of his head, his voice gaining intensity as he delivered his next sentence with austerity.

“Tell me the truth. If Aphrodite wasn’t your mother, would you date me?”

Silence flooded the woods; it seemed even the birds stopped singing to hear your much-awaited response. 

“Yes, I would.” You said it honestly, twiddling with your hands out of nervousness for your mother’s reaction.

“Okay then. I have a plan; don’t worry.” Luke interlocked your fingers, gently dragging you back to the pavilion with a grin plastered across his face.

As the day unfolded in its familiar rhythm, there was an intriguing twist: you found yourself stealing glances at Luke more frequently, your fondness for him blossoming rapidly. Anticipation brewed as you prayed for the success of whatever scheme Luke had concocted. Yet, the nagging suspicion of your mom’s disapproval gnawed at you, even if Luke was nicknamed the camp's "golden boy."

As dusk approached and dinner was served, the absence of Luke grasped your attention. The atmosphere lacked the presence of a couple other different Hermes offspring, too; the usual crowd at the wooden picnic tables was now missing. Brushing aside budding concerns, you settled beside your siblings, concealing any anxieties that threatened your composure.

You would have thought Hades took a visit to Cabin 11 with the way everyone was scrambling around. Dozens of clothes littered the floor, the room looking as if a freight train plowed through. Luke was in the center of the mess, eyebrows furrowed as he carefully examined his outfit options.

“A suit is definitely too much, right? I mean, I think it would be weird to go completely dressed out.” He started, with Chris standing next to him as they both pondered.

“Yeah, yeah. Ditch the suit.” His friend replied, tossing the crisp attire back into the closet. 

“So do I wear the camp shirt or something else?” Luke interrogated the rest of the children.

“Camp shirt.” Chris said, but another older female camper chimed in.

“Obviously not. It’s a disgusting neon orange.” She declared, rolling her eyes.

“I think it makes him look devoted to the camp.” Chris defended.

“Oh please, it washes him out. Try this navy blue top.” The Hermes girl tossed a crinkled polo at him, turning away as he slipped the shirt on.

Luke looked in the mirror, pleased with his choice. All of his peers stared at him in judgment before coming to the conclusion that the deep blue suited him.

“Told you. Now hurry up. You can’t miss dinner.” She uttered, shooing him out of the packed cabin. 

All eyes were focused on him as he walked to supper since he was out of the appropriate attire. He snagged his dinner, rushing to sit next to you. 

“Cute shirt. A little late though; dinner's almost over.” You complimented, and the rest of your fashion-inclined siblings nodded in agreement. Luke felt his cheeks flush from your words and because of the overwhelming stares provided by campers.

“Thank you. I’m not really hungry anyway." He responded, which wasn’t a complete lie. His stomach was doing cartwheels as he counted down the minutes until the burnt offerings. As soon as the sound echoed through the air, he practically sprinted to be the first.

He slid almost all his food into the metal tin can (which he would definitely miss later that night when he went to bed hungry) and, with shaky hands, lit the dinner. The aroma of multiple dishes mixed into one and then set on fire was putrid, but luckily for Luke, that’s just what he needed to catch the attention of Aphrodite.

As she heard the pleads of the boy, who was begging for a conversation, and smelled the smoke, it was enough to send her spiraling down onto Earth. She was gorgeous—ten times prettier than any image Luke could have pictured in his head.

“I'm Luke Castellan.” He stumbled out nervously, but recollected and gathered his thoughts.

“I want to date your daughter, Y/N.” He declared, noticing the way the goddess looked away with anger. 

“And before you say anything,” he continued, “I swear I have the best intentions.” 

Aphrodite narrowed her eyes, inspecting him.

“I don’t know. Many boys just like you have claimed the same.” She spoke to him with such clarity.

“It’s different; I can promise you that. I’m a good kid.” He pleaded, growing desperate as he swallowed.

“You aren’t sounding much different than the children before you.” She replied, and Luke could tell she was about to walk away, so he did what he thought was best and blurted out what came to mind.

“I’ve never smoked, I pray to the gods every night, and to be honest, I rarely step foot out of camp. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, and I’m the best swordsman in camp—at least that’s what everyone says. I’m still a virgin, and I’ve never even glanced at another girl in any romantic way because the only one I have eyes for is your daughter. Please, ma’am.”

Aphrodite's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth agape at his sudden speil. She had to admit that it was quite impressive.

“Hm, I suppose you have made a compelling argument. I’ll let you take her out on one date, but only if it goes well will you be allowed to see her again. And she must approve of you.”

Luke smiled at her, letting out heavy breaths he didn't even know he was holding on to. 

“Thank you so much. I can assure you, you won’t regret it.” He thanked the goddess, who just shrugged and left him in the dark forest. Too thrilled to care, he joyfully jogged back to the cabins, where his bunkmates patiently waited.

He shoved his way inside, panting, excitement bubbling within him. The air in the cabin seemed to crackle with anticipation as everyone turned their attention toward him, their eyes lit with curiosity, waiting for him to spill the details of what had transpired.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, unable to contain the joy that surged through him. Instantly, the air was filled with the sound of cheers and joyous squeals, his friends erupting into a wave of celebratory exclamations.

“Well, sorta. As long as the first date goes okay,” Luke added, his enthusiasm slightly dampening as he lowered his head, a hint of uncertainty tainting the original exhilaration of his announcement. The cabin fell into a sudden hush, a sense of disappointment crushing the once great news. 

“Then we better get to planning,” Chris interjected, lighting a spark of hope. Everyone returned to their primary delirium, huddling together to craft the picture perfect night.

Campers threw out ideas for the date on the spot, ranging from the location to his preferred mannerisms. His sisters used their experiences with being a women to instruct him on how to act, telling him what was considered acceptable and what to avoid. The rest of his siblings and friends scoped out the land, deciding on the perfect site.

After enduring the lengthy schooling, Luke stole a fleeting moment away from his lesson, his heart set on sharing the newfound momentous revelation with you. The bonfire raged on, campers swarming around it like hungry sharks. Old friendships were being rekindled, and new bonds were forming. Admits the social circle stood you, who laughed as you spoke to the Apollo kids.

With a grin that illuminated his features, Luke observed you from a distance, captivated by the infectious positivity that radiated from you. As you strayed away from the chaotic crowd, your eyes met his. His feet propelled him forward, drawing him towards you. 

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice filled with genuine excitement as he approached.

“Hey! Guess what?” Luke's words tumbled out in a rush, his eagerness present as he awaited your reaction.

“What’s up?” you inquired, intrigued by his anxious body language.

“Your mom said yes,” Luke revealed, his expression a mix of anticipation and restrained enthusiasm.

“What?” you gasped, disbelief coloring your features before giving way to unbridled joy.

“She said yes!” Luke exclaimed, the thrill evident in his voice.

Excitement flourished within you, causing you to leap into his arms, angelic laughter filling the atmosphere as he lifted you up and spun you around. The cutesy scene hooked the attention of others, whispers beginning to travel.

Like a raging wildfire, Luke's announcement spread swiftly through the crowd, resonating with everyone within earshot. Within minutes, the joyous information spread through the gathering. Some were jealous, spreading rumors the moment they heard them, and some were just happy for the two.

Neither of you cared about the whispers and gossiping of those around you, their chatter fading into the background as you were enveloped in his warm embrace. The world seemed to melt away as he gently set you down, his touch lingering on your skin.

As you looked up into his eyes, time seemed to stand still, and the intensity of your love was reflected in the depths of his gaze. With each beat of your heart, you felt a surge of affection wash over you, your gaze softening as you looked upon him with adoration. There, in the depths of his eyes, you found comfort, a sanctuary from the chaos of the world outside.

"7 o'clock okay for tomorrow?" Luke's voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to the present moment. His words sent a tingle of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Mhm," you murmured in response, your mind still lingering on the warmth of his touch, until a daughter of Demeter called you over, disrupting the spell cast by Luke. As you tore yourself away, a shiver raced down your spine, the absence of his soothing hands leaving you feeling strangely hollow.

In the darkness of the night, neither of you seemed able to sleep with the thought of each other prominent in your minds. Remembering all of the special moments you shared, even before today, summoned a mixture of emotions. If this date didn’t go according to plan, the memories would be permanently lost, drowned out by new experiences.

Eventually, Hypnos blessed you with a night’s rest, and before you knew it, it was 6 p.m., an hour before the long-awaited gathering with Luke. Your siblings were currently helping you get ready in the vast space that was the Aphrodite cabin.

"Do you know where he's taking you?" Urged your closest sister, her fingers deftly working through your hair as she leaned in.

Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you met her gaze in the mirror, uncertainty dancing in your eyes. "No, not really," you admitted with a sigh, feeling a knot of anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach as you nervously tugged at your bottom lip with your teeth.

"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and determination as she dropped the task of defining your hair, her attention now fully focused on the impending dilemma. With a sense of urgency, she hurriedly crossed the room to her bustling closet, the sound of fabric rustling filling the air as she searched for the perfect outfit.

You watched her with amusement, as she rummaged through her collection.

With a triumphant exclamation, she emerged from the depths of her closet, a victorious smile gracing her lips as she presented you with a selection of carefully curated outfits. "I'm sure we can find something that'll work," she declared with confidence, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she began to lay out the options before you.

She presented you with a breathtaking spring dress, its delicate fabric decorated with teensy flowers. You ran your fingers over the dainty material, embracing its beauty.

"It's perfect," you breathed in awe, your voice barely above a whisper, as you marveled at the garment.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed, her excitement infectious as she twirled around in delight. "This is so exciting! Your first date!" she continued, her words bubbling with enthusiasm as she continued to fuss over your appearance.

You attempted to summon a smile, but despite your best efforts, the flicker of unease in your eyes did not go unnoticed by your sister.  She gently squeezed your hand, a silent gesture of support and reassurance.

"What's wrong?" She questioned you softly, her hands pausing in their task of arranging your hair as she turned to look at you through the expansive vanity mirror.

"It's nothing, really. Just... anxious, I guess," you replied, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to find the right words to express the complexity of your thoughts.

"Hey, it'll go great. And if not, there's a long line of suitors out there waiting for you," she reassured you, her voice filled with warmth and understanding, "so I'm sure Mom would approve of at least one of them."

"But I don't want it to be them," you confessed, your voice shaky as you admitted your true feelings. "I want it to be Luke."

She slightly frowned, grabbing your head and leaning into you. You shut your eyes to block the tears, discovering a place of love in her arms. A sudden knock on the wood door interrupted the warmth of silence.

She hopped up with eager anticipation, practically skipping to the door to greet Luke. As she opened it, you seized the opportunity to slip into the closet and change into the dress she had requested.

Luke stood on the doorstep, his hands fidgeting with a bouquet of ethereal flowers, their petals shimmering in the sunlight. A hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes as he glanced around, searching for you.

"Uh, is Y/N here?" he asked, his voice laced with nervousness as he scratched the back of his head.

"Yes, she is," your friend replied, her tone firm, her gaze locking onto Luke's with determination. "But before you go any further, I need to warn you. You must take excellent care of her, no matter what. Because if you don't, I'll come find you personally."

“I promise.” He stuck out his pinky, interlocking it with hers to signify an agreement he would uphold. Stepping outside the cramped enclosure, you checked your reflection and headed towards the door. 

"Hi!" you exclaimed, your voice ringing out into the air, breaking through the awkward tension that had settled between the two of them. Luke's shoulders visibly relaxed as he turned to face you, a sigh of relief escaping his lips upon noticing your presence.

"Hey." He whispered softly, capturing in the sight of you standing before him, your captivating looks leaving him momentarily speechless. You smiled, threading your arm between his and escaping the cabin. 

"I brought you these." Luke stated, his voice tinged with admiration as he handed you the colorful floral arrangement. You accepted the bouquet with a grateful smile, the fragrance of the flowers filling the air as you gently wafted them in your hand.

"Thank you," you replied sincerely, touched by his thoughtful gesture, "they're beautiful."

Lost in conversation, you continued hiking together, the winding path leading you deeper into the heart of the forest.

Unbeknownst to you, Luke had a destination in mind, his steps purposeful as he guided you along the trail . The scenery around you shifted, the dense foliage giving way to a small deserted landscape.

Atop the grassy bank, a thick picnic blanket lay spread out, its vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the lush greenery that surrounded it. An assortment of fruits and treats adorned the blanket, ranging from juicy strawberries to decadent chocolates.

As you settled onto the blanket, the soft fabric cushioning your every movement, you couldn't help but marvel at the breathtaking scenery that unfolded before you. Stretching out into the distance was the icy blue lake, its surface shimmering in the golden light of the sun, which peeked over the horizon as if to witness the magic of the moment.

As the minutes flew by, the loud croaking of cicadas immersed and the sky gradually transformed into a canvas of twinkling stars.

Wrapped in Luke's arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the worries and uncertainties of the day melting away.

In that moment, as you lay together under the vast starlit sky, you felt a profound connection to Luke. A realization that filled you with a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Whether your mom approved of your relationship or not (spoiler alert: she did), it didn't matter. What mattered was that you were with Luke, and in his arms, protected from the surrounding cruel world.

୨୧

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[hxzbinwrites]

Idk if you do headcanons or one shots but either or will be fine:

Can I pretty please get a Vox x Emotionless! Reader?

Plot can be whatever you want but just to (hopefully) give some ideas… maybe Vox had no interest in Reader but then uh oh she smiled! Now Vox has a crush (°▽°)

But yeah lol thank you!! Have a good day!

Vox x Emotionless! Reader | Lovestruck Fool |

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Vox is a horrible boss

10:00am

(Y/n) walked into Vox’s office, holding an folder with today’s date and Vox’s name on it.

“Mr. Vox.” She said, her dead eyes watching her boss turn around in his excessively large chair.

“Hm, what is it (Y/n)?” He said, giving her a single glance before turning back to his monitors

“You have three meetings today sir. 1:00pm with Velvette in her portion of the tower. 2:30pm with Valentino in the main conference room, and someone scheduled a 4:00 with you, a Mr. Alastor? Called in today for an urgent meeting.”

Vox slammed his hands down on the desk, his face glitching in seething anger. “THAT PRICK!! CALL BACK AND TELL HIM I WILL NOT BE ATTENDING ANY SORT OF MEETING WITH HIM!!”

“He called from a public telephone sir, I can’t trace the caller ID.” (Y/n) said, clearly unfazed by his temper tantrum.

“DAMN IT!” He said, punching a smaller monitor on his right,”DONT YOU EVER LET HIM SCHEDULE ANOTHER MEETING WITH ME OR VOXTECH EVER AGAIN!!!”

Vox turned around, pointing one of his clawed fingers in your deadpanned face.

“Okay sir, is that all?”

“UGH!!” He said, clenching his fists to his side,”WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?? IM AN OVERLORD, I AM THE VOX, YOU SHOULD BE QUIVERING IN FEAR!! IM YELLING MY HEAD OFF AT YOU AND YOU CANT EVEN FORM AN EXPRESSION?? ARE YOU BRAINDEAD??”

(Y/n) slowly blinks, before looking down and rummaging through the folder she still held. “Ah, I almost forgot. Mr. Alastor requested his meeting also in the main conference room. If you need another reminder about your meetings today just call me-“

She was cut off once more by Vox, screaming and yelling, throwing things hazardously across the room. “JUST LEAVE.”

“Alright sir.” (Y/n) said, immediately turning away and walking towards the door.

————

4:45pm

(Y/n) was at her desk, taking calls and rearranging Vox’s schedule for tomorrow when her work phone buzzed.

“Hello? This is (Y/n) with Voxtech. How may I-“

“(Y/n). My office. Now.”

“Sir? This isn’t your work phone number? How can I be sure that this is-“

“MY OFFICE. NOW.”

(Y/n) could hear his voice glitching over the phone before she hung up, and briskly made her way to the door of his office.

She walked in to his Vox in his obnoxiously large chair, his hands covering his screen as he sighed in exhaustion.

“Ah, sir. You called me?”

“Yes (Y/n). I have installed safety features into your desk. Don’t except meetings from Alastor. If he comes in here, press the button under your monitor. He is NEVER allowed in this building.”

“Okay sir.” She said, making a note of that on her smartwatch,”Will that be all?”

“Can you get me a coffee…?”

“Right away sir.”

————

5:00pm

“Here’s your coffee sir.” (Y/n) said, setting it in his outreached hand.

“Thank you (Y/n)” He said, taking a single sip before doing a spit take. On one of the monitors around the city, it showed Velvette and Alastor chatting to one another.

“WHAT?!?” Vox yelled, being as “careful” as he usually is, his coffee flies into the air before landing on his shirt. He hissed in pain at the hit liquid, scrambling around before tripping on the various wires around his monitor setup (that was replaced after his previous temper tantrum) and landing on his ass.

Vox looked up in shock to see (Y/n) covering half of her mouth, revealing a smile. Tears brimmed her eyes as she tried to respectfully hold in her laughter.

Vox’s face felt red hot. Out of embarrassment and admiration. Why didn’t she smile more? Oh that smile, if she could remove her hand it would reveal its full glory. Let him soak it in. Her eyes filled with life and laughter. Has she always been this….beautiful? Yes, I think she has. She has indeed.

She let out a little snort before regaining her composure, before crouching down in front of him, taking the napkins provided with the coffee, and starting to wipe off as much of the liquid as possible. He felt her delicate hands rub across his chest. He hope she didn’t feel his erratic heartbeat.

He wanted this. He’s yearned for this and he didn’t even know it. Vox’s breathing became as erratic as his heartbeat, almost in sync. He felt sweat starting to drip, wether it be from the hot coffee adorning his now ruined shirt or from the stunning woman and her hands on his chest.

Trying to get as much as she could, (Y/n) scooted even closer, not realizing her hips were hovering right over his. Vox’s mind was running wild, his screen glitching and flicking between different error signals. His hands floating near the handles of her hips. Taking a gulp, he almost put his hands on her skin. Almost. He ended up just leaving his hands there, leaving a ghostly stabilization to the assistant who was cleaning him up like a toddler who spilt his apple juice.

(Y/n) looked up at Vox’s eyes, their eyes locking onto one another. A small smile could be faintly seen across her lips before it went back to its neutral state.

She helped him to his feet, her soft hands gently pulling on his clawed ones, slowly helping him to his feet. Handing him the remaining napkins. “I’ll schedule a trip to the dry cleaners. Does 3:45 tomorrow work well for you?”

Vox sat back down, his eyes wide in shock from what just happened. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Alright sir, I’ll get that done, and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

(Y/n) walked out, the door closing behind her. Leaving the room back in it’s inky black darkness, with the exception of the glowing monitors.

Vox looked at his reflection in the main monitor. He could see his goofy smile. His blush adorning his cheeks. His eyes lighting up like a child who knows no sin. He looked like what he was, a lovestruck fool. A lovestruck fool for his assistant.

————

Word Count: 1006

(sorry it’s so short, i’m trying to get as many requests done as i can 😭)

[cattordi]

a/n did y’all miss me??? writing this in class 🤗 so enjoy. honestly felt like i write absolutely too much abt absolutely nothing

summary you get a flat tire on the way to a party and on top of that you’re in the middle of nowhere so you call bucky to help you

pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader

warnings smut , breeding, praise, not proofread, choking, foul language, arguing?,a bit of fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI

don’t test me

“only this would happen to me” you groan before pulling your car over in the absolute middle of nowhere.

you were on the way to a spring break party but clearly the universe had other plans. getting out of your car, you walk around to check out the damage.

low and behold, a flat tire.

“no fucking way.” you whisper. you were miles away from a gas station or any sort of place other people were. grabbing your phone from your back pocket of your jean shorts, you scroll through your contacts finding your brothers name.

you place the phone to your ear and sit for a bit letting it ring.

and ring.

and ring. until finally you’re sent to voicemail.

what the fuck?

you hesitate as you keep scrolling through your contacts looking at other options of help; until you finally reach that one person.

bucky.

your least favorite human to ever walk the earth but you could never deny how he made you feel sometimes.

the man was good with his words, you have to admit it.

only problem was, he was your brothers best friend and also a dick.

pressing the call button, you wait as the phone rings.

“please pick up, plea-“

“hey y/n, what’s up?” he says and there’s shuffling in the background.

“hey, i’m sorry to bother.”

no you aren’t.

“i got a flat tire and i need help changing it. if you can’t that’s fi-“

“where are you?”

“in the middle of nowhere.”

“what the hell? get in your car and send me your location. i’ll be there in 15.”

knowing you’re at least 30 minutes out of town, you comply and wait.

after what feels like 20 years, bright head lights blind you from behind and you sit up in your car. your drivers side door flies open and a pissed bucky stares at you.

“you could’ve at least locked the door y/n. hell you could’ve gotten murdered.”

rolling your eyes you get out, “didn’t think anyone would even be out here at this time of night.”

“don’t start with your attitude.” he begins while pulling a car jack out his truck, “i’m not in the mood.”

“whatever.”

“why are you even out here this late?”

“what are you my dad?”

“no but i’m your brothers best friend and i have the right to know.”

“it’s none of your busines.” you say and glare at him.

“tell me.”

“no.”

“y/n..” he basically growls at you.

“no.”

“i swear if you don’t tell me.”

you can see the frustration in his face so to be a brat, you keep going.

“i was going to get fucked.” you say and try not to laugh.

visible jealousy crosses his face and he stands from his squatted position. “you what?”

“i was going to have sex? is that a prob-“ you begin but are cut off by a hand around your throat.

“you know that pisses me off, so why keep pushing it? hm?” he hums the last part, “you tryna get to me darling?”

you do the best you can to nod as pleasure filled tears brim your eyes.

this is what you always wanted from him.

his metal hand slims into your shorts finding your clit. “do you want me to take you in my truck?”

you nod and his eyes go dark, taking a bit of the pressure off your throat.

if anyone passed by, you’re sure the police would be called.

“use your words.”

“yes.”

“good job baby.”

you both walk to his truck, him following behind you.

he opens the door to the back for you and you hop in immediately filled with even more excitement.

as soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, his lips attack yours. though you’re in such a small space it feels just right for the two of you.

pulling at your shorts, bucky unbuttons them and pulls them down with your underwear.

he takes notices of the wet spot on your panties and chuckles. “so wet for me already.”

his hand slids between your folds; coating every inch of you before two fingers slide in.

you gasp at the stretch and his pace only gets faster. “you feel so tight around my fingers baby.”

“i’m gonna cum.”

he stops and you’re immediately pissed off. “why’d you stop?”

“i want you to cum when i’m you.”

you hadn’t notice his jeans were down but his dick caught your full attention,

and my lord was it big.

“it’s not gonna fit.”

“oh it will. lay back for me.” he says calmly all the while, lining up at your entrance.

the anticipation wears off as soon as he slams in you and begins moving. the truck fills with sounds of moans and skin slapping.

“you’re so tight, i love it.” he says and his strokes become faster.

“you’re so big.” you say in between moans. “i’m getting so close.”

“you’re doing so well,” he begins and leans down to kiss you, “you take me so well.”

you’re getting closer and closer to coming everytine he hits your sweet spot and it couldn’t feel any better. “harder please.” you moan and he complies immediately, thrusting into you.

“i’m gonna cum.” you say and at that moment his thumb finds your clit and rubs big meaningful circles.

“my lord darling, you feel so good around me. it’s taking everything in me not to cum right now.”

he continues to thrust into you getting you closer and closer to what you both desire. “i’m cumming bucky.”

“i feel you darling, keep going. you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” he begins and you continue to cum around his cock,”i’ve waited for this for long baby.”

yours moans get louder as when grabs your legs and puts him on his shoulder, making his thrust hit a different spot inside of you. “y/n..” he moans, “fuck you’re making me fun babydoll.”

with that, his continues his fast thrust hitting your g-spot repeatedly till he comes.

warm spurts of cum fill you as his thrust slow down and eventually come to a halt. “holy fuck that was the best sex i’ve had in a long time..” you say while trying to catch your breath.

“you wanna go again?”

[dreaming-medium]

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 7

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Virginity - Jeongin

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Long distance friendships work most of the time. But what about when that friendship was supposed to be more? What about when the distance spans over several time zones instead of cities.

—————————————————————

He’ll always be the one that got away, that’s what you tell yourself. 

But it’s not like he’s gone completely, no, Yang Jeongin is still in your life every single day. He’s just not physically present now. 

The two of you went from spending every single waking moment together to then only seeing him when he’s able to come home during breaks in his idol schedule. 

Which is basically never. 

When he left Busan, he took your entire heart with you.

The night before he left for Seoul, you told yourself over and over again that you were going to confess to him. That you weren’t going to let him leave for stardom without knowing how you felt. 

And if he didn’t feel the same, then the distance would help. 

And if he did… then who knows what would happen. 

But, when the moment came. And Jeongin was hugging you goodbye in his childhood bedroom, you froze. 

“Jeongin, I need to tell you something,” you murmur into his chest during a tight hug. 

His hand runs down the back of your hair, his nose digging into the top of your head to smell your coconut shampoo. 

“What is it?”

Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it might explode. With the way your ear was pressed against his chest, you’re able to hear his heart thudding against his ribs as well. 

He’s probably just nervous about leaving, that’s all. 

Every thought flies from your head. Not a single word of your practiced speeches in the mirror come to mind. 

He’s leaving. He’s leaving. He’s leaving. 

“Y/N?” Jeongin tries to catch your attention by squeezing you tighter. 

“Just…” you trail off, blinking the tears away from your eyes. Your throat constricts and gets tighter and tighter. “Just don’t forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”

Jeongin rocks you both from side to side, a thoughtful hum coming from his throat. 

���I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried, Y/N,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll text you every chance I get, FaceTime and calls too. You know I will.”

The desperation in his voice causes the tears to finally fall down your cheeks. The other half of your soul was leaving. 

Who was going to walk to school with you? Split another menu item with you so that you both could have two different things? Watch scary movies with you and launch popcorn everywhere?

“I know, Jeongin.” A hiccup shakes your chest. “You’re going to be famous before you know it. And you’ll have other famous people lining up to be your best friend.”

“Yeah, well, that spot is already taken.”

Jeongin pulls away from you slowly to look down at your tear-ridden face. 

“No amount of distance will change that, okay? I’m serious.”

You bite your lip and look down at the floor with a pathetic nod. 

Two fingers hook under your chin to bring your eyes back up to his. They’re glossy and brimming with his own unshed tears. 

“Cross my heart,” he hushes and draws an ‘X’ over his chest with his free hand. 

“Cross my heart,” you sob and mirror the action. 

“Now, stop crying. You know you’re an ugly crier.”

“When are you leaving, again?”

-------------------------------------

It’s embarrassing to say, but you did have little faith in Jeongin to keep the promise. 

But you’ll be damned. Because he did so to the best of his abilities. 

No, you two were not attached at the hip anymore, sipping soda through the same straw. But you remained as close as ever. 

Conversation never dulled over texts. 

Sure, there would be periods of time where you would only hear from him once or twice a day. But that’s normal, especially with longer distance friends. 

Also, with a schedule like his, it’s a miracle that you get to hear from him at all. 

The first year was the hardest. When your birthday passed and he wasn’t physically in the room with you at midnight for the first time, it felt like a dagger to the heart. 

Yes, he was on FaceTime with you, but it wasn’t the same; and you both knew it. 

Life continued. It didn’t stop in his bedroom like you thought it would. 

The ache faded. You adapted. He adapted. But your friendship remained constant. 

-------------------------------------

“America?” Jeongin asks bewildered on the phone. 

“It’s a full ride, Jeongin! I’d be stupid not to accept it.” 

You’re laying on your bed, painting your nails with the phone in between your shoulder and your ear. 

“I mean, yeah, but like… didn’t you also apply to the University of Seoul?”

“I did, but they’re not offering me a full ride. You know my family’s financial situation, I have to go where the money is.”

“But… but what about plane tickets and such? Wouldn’t the cost just balance out?” he stutters. His tone sounds strained and choked. 

You almost wish you were on FaceTime right now so you could see his expression. He was never good at hiding secrets from you, you can read him like a book. 

“Not really… I’d probably just… live there for four years and come back when I’m done,” you mumble and then blow on your wet nails. “Jeongin, I really wasn’t expecting this type of reaction…”

The sadness of your voice can’t be helped. 

Jeongin had no idea you applied for the photography program at the California Institute of Arts. It was on a whim that you sent your application in. 

He makes a choked noise on the other end of the phone. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m happy for you, I really am! I’m over the moon excited! California! That’s-“ he clears his throat. “That’s incredible.”

He’s crying. Yang Jeongin is crying right now. 

You sit in silence for a moment and stare blankly at the wall in front of you. With each word that comes through the phone you can feel your heart breaking. 

“I can’t believe it!” He continues with his fake happiness. “California! Woo… just- just like in those movies we used to watch to-together!”

Clenching your jaw to stop your own tears, you pull the phone away from your face and tap the FaceTime button. 

The line rings a few times before you hear Jeongin gasp and stutter even more. 

“I have to go, Y/N. Chan is calling me to do something!”

“I didn’t hear—“

“Bye, Y/N!”

The line beeps three times to signal he hung up. Your phone displays the failed FaceTime call. 

Numbness floats through your chest for a moment before something harshly tugs on your soul. 

He was expecting you to come to Seoul. To come closer to him, wasn’t he? 

You drop your phone onto your bed and continue to sit there, staring into space. 

Yes, you wanted to go to Seoul with him, you desperately wanted to do that. 

But, you need to think in the long run here! Four years longer away from him in exchange for a lifetime free of debt. 

It’s only four years, max.

Tears prickle your eyes and you grit your teeth to try and stop them. 

Shit, Jeongin. Come on. 

-------------------------------------

You went to America. You made the hard choice, but the right one. And you know it, too. 

Jeongin knew it too. Hidden underneath all of the grief of you moving even further from him, he was endlessly proud and happy for you. 

But now, instead of a two hour train ride, you were an eleven hour plane ride away. Your day was sixteen hours behind his. 

Now, if he texted you and asked what you had for dinner, you would tell him about last nights’ meal or what you were thinking for later. 

There were only about two hours a day where you were able to talk at the same time and it was killing him slowly. 

When your classes for the day were ending, he was waking up for the next day. When you were getting ready for bed, he was finishing lunch. 

If he wanted to FaceTime you at the end of his day, it was the middle of your work day. 

You were losing each other. 

He was able to do two different cities in the same country, but two continents was its own animal. 

Jeongin would lay awake in bed at night, knowing you’re up and moving around. It would haunt him while he tossed and turned. 

Because in his mind, you’re also the one that got away. You were the only reason he almost didn’t audition to become a trainee. 

But, your entire life, you talked about attending the University of Seoul for college. So, he bargained with himself and became a trainee because eventually the two of you would be together. Right?

No.

Now, you’re in America. You’ve been in America for two entire years. 

Making new friends, meeting new people, experiencing everything without him. 

The knife twisted in his gut when he started noticing the same name floating around your conversations when you spoke about friends. 

Ryan. 

It was always ‘Ryan said this’, ‘Ryan did that’, ‘Ryan showed me this’. Jeongin wanted to scream and pull his hair out. 

It was only a matter of time until he got the phone call he was dreading. 

-------------------------------------

Jeongin had just sat down in the living room of the shared dorm when his phone rang. His seven other members were flitting in and out of the room. 

They all knew you very well. Jeongin talks about you so much they would swear you were everyone’s childhood best friend. 

The few times you were able to visit him in person before leaving for America, everyone always got along famously.

He answered your FaceTime call immediately. 

“Hey!” you say as soon as you see his face. “Are you busy right now?”

“No, not at all. We don’t have anything until later today. What time is it?” Jeongin looks at the clock. “It’s almost 9 PM by you, what are you getting ready for?”

You placed your phone down on your desk. “Well, ah— that’s actually why I’m calling you, I need your advice.”

Felix and Seungmin both walked into the living room, talking quietly and sat down on the couch opposite him. 

“What’s up? Are you okay?” Jeongin asks. 

Both the other boys perk at his tone and look over. 

“I’m um… going on a date tonight. Ryan had asked me out with him tonight. So I wanted your advice on what to wear, since you’re a fashion God.”

The floor beneath him crumbled. His heart fell through the sofa and into the Earth. Even his fingertips go numb. 

A date? You were going on a date? With Ryan? You were going on a date with Ryan. 

You were going on a date. With Ryan. 

“Jeongin?” You ask again when he doesn’t answer for a few moments. His eyes are completely unfocused and spaced out. 

He snaps out of it and clears his throat. “What um— What did you have in mind? It’s getting chilly out, right? Maybe wear a sweater? What about that cable knit one I got you?”

“Jeongin it’s LA! It’s always 70 degrees here.”

“But the restaurant might be cold.”

“I’ll bring a jacket then.” You laugh at him, unaware at the absolute anguish he was feeling. “I was thinking something like… you know that black skirt? That with this new tube top I got aaaand my knee high boots.”

“No.” He answers quickly, your face falls. “Why don’t you do the top with jeans?”

“It’s a nice place.”

“M-Maybe a dress then.”

“Jeongin.” 

Seungmin And Felix were watching everything unfold in front of their eyes. It was like a car crash, they couldn’t look away. 

Jeongin kept going, “I really liked that long sleeved red one you wore for Christmas last year.”

“Jeongin..”

“And if that doesn’t work I just think the sweater is the best option here.”

You stay silent, letting Jeongin finish his ramblings. 

There’s a solid fifteen seconds of silence between the two of you before you spoke up on the other line. “Are any of the other boys in the room with you?”

Jeongin immediately looks over at Felix and Seungmin. “Yeah, Min and Lix are here.”

You nod a few times, refusing to look at the camera. 

“I gotta go, Jeongin. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Y/N.”

“Bye. I’ll text you when I get home safe.”

“Y/N, wait!”

Three beeps signal the end of the phone call. 

He sits there for a long moment, just holding his phone in his hand before he drops it onto the coffee table. 

His heart is shattering into a million pieces. 

Jeongin buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. 

Both of the other boys sit there, unsure of what to do next. They glance at each other and then back to Jeongin, who hasn’t moved. 

“Jeongin…” Felix calls out gently. 

The boy lifts his face up from his hands and looks over at his friends. “What am I supposed to do? A date. She’s going on a date. And I’m on the other side of the world.”

His throat bobs with a gulp and he pulls at his pants anxiously. 

“Jeongin.” Seungmin tries to grab his attention. “I think she was just looking for support.”

He’s right. He’s completely right, but Jeongin is so blinded with jealousy he can’t think straight. 

“I’ve loved her since we were thirteen and she’s going on a date with someone else.”

“You don’t even know if it will last.” Seungmin tries to comfort him. 

“They’re already super close, she talks about him all the time, it’s always ‘Ryan, Ryan, Ryan’. He’s her new best friend, not me. She was supposed to come here, to Seoul, not go to America. And we were going to.. we were going to–” He chokes up and can’t get it out. 

Jeongin abruptly stands up from the couch and snatches his phone off the table. 

“I’m going for a walk.”

And with that, he was gone. 

-------------------------------------

He won’t answer any of your texts or calls. 

It’s been two weeks since your date with Ryan and you still haven’t heard from Jeongin. 

It feels like a giant punch in the gut. 

All you want to do is talk to him but he’s nowhere to be seen. He hasn’t even sent you a text to say he’s busy or when he can finally talk again. 

Just radio silence. 

You thought about texting one of the other members to try and get through to him, but it feels so high school that you decide not to. 

All you want to do is talk to your best friend. 

But he doesn’t want to talk to you, it seems. 

It has to be because of the date. There’s no other explanation behind it. Everything was fine until you told him you were going on a date. 

You’ve been here for two years now! Did he expect you to stay single forever?

Just because he has a dating ban, doesn’t mean you do too. 

The more you think about it, the angrier you get. The smoldering ashes of your rage don’t dim. Not one bit, they just simmer and flicker on. 

It all bubbles and reaches a boiling point one Friday where you’ve had entirely too much to drink. 

Your friends dragged you out to a frat party where you drank yourself stupid. Nothing eventful happened at the party, but when you stumbled into your apartment and you were left alone with your phone, it all hit a head. 

[March 3 11:48 PM] 

Y/N: I’m home safe.

[March 4 4:22 PM]

Y/N: How’d your day go?

[March 5 7:31 AM]

Y/N: Jeongin please talk to me. I have so much to tell you

[2:01 PM]

Y/N: I saw a cute lil baby Fox on my way to class this morning, made me think of you :) 

[March 13 6:12 PM]

Y/N: You’re just going to keep ignoring me, huh?

[March 19 3:58 AM]

Y/N: YanG Jeongin. 

Y/N: you can’t fucking  ignore me forever 

Y/N: or maybe you can. 

Y/N: is that what you want???? Me to be gone????? All these fucking years of friendship down the drain????

Y/N: well fuck you too, I guess 

[4:02 AM]

Y/N: I got hired for your stupid fucjing group’s world tour. For when you come to America

Y/N: I fucking begged my professor to give me the gig for a project. It’s an internship. Was gunna see you next week and everythinfg 

Y/N: surprise, asshoke

Y/N: and now you won’t fucking talk to me. Do you realize how petty you’re being? How childish? Over what? A guy?????? I cant fucking back out now, my professor would kill me. 

[4:09 AM] 

Y/N: the whole tour I was gunna spend with you

Y/N: fuck you, Yang Jeongin. 

Y/N: and your stupid fucking childishness. 

Y/N: why cant you just be fucking happy for me for once. 

Y/N: it took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me? 

[4:14 AM]

Y/N: Was I supposed to wait forever?

-------------------------------------

Jeongin stepped out of the shower and looked at his phone. 

Fifteen unread messages from you. It’s 4 AM in America, why are you awake right now?

He was so embarrassed over the way he acted two weeks ago that he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. 

But my god, he only made it worse. 

Jeongin goes through every single emotion while reading your texts. You were going to be one of their photographers for the Manic tour? 

You were going to travel with them?

His thumbs quickly tap his phone and as he’s about to click the phone call button, he freezes in his tracks. 

‘It took me so long to get over you. Why do you keep doing this to me?’

‘Was I supposed to wait forever?’

His entire face drops, the excited palpitations of his heart turn sour and what feels like a knife is stabbed through his chest. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

He stares down at his phone for what feels like an hour before he hurries out of the bathroom and right into Chan’s room. 

Chan looks over at his member with a startled expression. 

“Jeongin? Everything alright?”

“No, no everything is not alright.” He thrusts his phone into Chan’s hand. “What do I do? What should I say?”

Chan looks down at the phone with wide eyes, he quickly scans over the text. His face seems to go through all the stages of grief that Jeongin’s did, just a bit more watered down. 

“You have to call and apologize, Jeongin. She’s definitely a bit drunk right now, but you need to call her.”

Jeongin gulps and his hands clench and unclench several times before he takes his phone back from Chan. 

“Can I sit in here while I do it?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He sits down on the edge of Chan’s bed, staring down at his phone like a deer in headlights. 

Chan just stares at him, not knowing what to do. 

“What do I even say, Chan?”

“How about you start with ‘I’m sorry I was a dick and ignored you’?”

Jeongin groaned and curled in a bit, his jaw clenching with anxiety. 

His thumbs move around the screen, but they don’t tap the call icon. 

Chan watches. “It’s in the top right.”

“I know!”

“Well you weren’t doing anything.”

“Agh!”

Before he could second guess himself, he tapped the call icon and held the phone up to his ear. 

It rings … and rings… And rings…

It doesn’t even go to voicemail. Jeongin’s heart drops through Chan’s bed. 

He brings his phone away from his ear and checks that it’s your number he dialed. 

It is. 

He hangs up and immediately tries again. 

It rings … and rings… And rings…

Chan’s eyes follow him closely. His face falls when he figures out what’s going on. 

“Jeongin…” he whispers and wheels his chair closer to him on the edge of the bed. 

Jeongin doesn’t listen. He hangs up and tries again with shaking fingers. 

“I’m sure it’s just a bad connection, right?”

It rings … and rings... And rings…

He hangs up again with a cry. 

When he looks down at your conversation he sees another notification. 

[8:15 PM]

[Y/N has stopped sharing their location with you.] 

You blocked him. You really blocked him. 

“She’s drunk, Jeongin. Give it until the morning, yeah?”

Jeongin stares at his phone for a long moment. “Yeah.”

-------------------------------------

The next morning was filled with embarrassment and shame on your side. 

When you rolled over with a groggy mind and upset stomach, the first thing you did was check your phone. 

You were still in your dress from last night, your makeup was now smeared all over your face and onto your pillowcase.

A few texts from friends, a couple from Ryan, Instagram notifications, Snapchat, nothing from Jeongin. 

Your face pulled into an ugly sneer for a moment before it quickly morphed into horror when you tapped on your conversation. 

“Oh my god.”

You sat up quickly in bed, and almost immediately regretted it with how your stomach lurched and head spun. 

Rereading all the texts, you wanted to slam your hungover ridden head over and over again into the wall. 

You stopped sharing your location with him? Why would you…?

Oh, shit. You blocked him, didn't you?

Your hand runs through your matted hair nervously and you stare down at your phone. 

“You dramatic bitch!” You curse yourself and gnaw at your lip. 

What do you do? What do you do?

Obviously, you tap around to his contact and unblock his number. 

The texts immediately flood in. 

[March 19 4:25 AM]

Jeongin: Y/N, im so sorry

Jeongin: please answer 

Jeongin: Y/N please unblock me

[4:31 AM]

Jeongin: I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to go about apologizing 

Jeongin: you’re halfway across the world right now, Y/N, please. 

Jeongin: why can’t you just be a two hour train ride to Busan anymore. 

[4:38 AM]

Jeongin: I miss my best friend, please

Jeongin: I’m so endlessly proud of you. I brag about you every single day.

Jeongin: that picture you took of the Seoul skyline is still my background. The one with our hands. 

Jeongin: I like that it makes me think of you each time i open my phone

[4:44 AM]

Jeongin: i knew you couldn’t wait forever, that’s why it hurts so bad, Y/N

Jeongin: why did I choose this path? It hurts so bad, Y/N

Jeongin: i care about you so deeply

Jeongin: you’re the only one for me

Jeongin: when you left for LA, you took every part of me with you. 

[4:57 AM]

Jeongin: im so proud of you, Y/N. I guess I’ll just see you starting next week for the tour. 

Jeongin: i’ll wait for you

Jeongin: cross my heart

“Fuck,” you whisper, your voice cracking. Tears welling up in your eyes. 

Is he serious? 

What are you supposed to do right now?

A text from Ryan comes in as you’re staring at your phone. 

[12:41 PM]

Ryan: did you still want to come over tonight?

-------------------------------------

A week passed. 

Another entire week without talking to Jeongin. 

It was like color was slowly draining from your world. 

You know you should reach out to him, but shame and embarrassment kept blocking your path to your best friend again. 

But now, you had no choice. 

You stood in front of a large office building, your bag slung over your shoulder, heart in your throat. 

Once you stepped inside this building, it would be the first time in over two years that you and Jeongin were inside the same walls. 

If you had pictured this moment just a month ago, you would’ve been kicking open these doors and sprinting through the halls until you finally laid eyes on him again. 

But now, you find that it feels like your feet have melted into the concrete sidewalk. 

Looking down at your watch, you see that you still have another thirty minutes before you have to be in the meeting. And your mouth is painfully dry. 

A bell dings to your right and you see a coffee shop. 

Perfect. 

You quickly turn and walk into the shop, the same bell dinging to announce your arrival. 

The barista welcomes you in, takes your order, and tells you your total. 

As you’re fumbling for your wallet, an arm reaches out from behind you and swipes their card to pay for your coffee. 

“Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to—“ you turn and your breath catches. 

None other than Bang Chan stood behind you with that charmingly bright smile. 

“Hi Y/N,” he beams. 

“Chan!” you squeal and wrap your arms around him. You completely forgot everything for a moment, especially when he envelopes you in his strong arms. “What a nice surprise!”

“Hi, Y/N,” he says into your hair.

A throat clears behind you so you jump apart to apologize to the barista. She just laughs and takes Chan’s order. 

The two of you stand off to the side to wait for your drinks. 

“How was the flight in?” you ask, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“I’ll be honest, I slept through the whole thing, so I’m not sure.”

“It’s probably the only sleep you’ve gotten this week, hm?” 

Chan laughs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t deny it. 

The barista calls out a name.

Chan shifts from foot to foot. “I know what happened.”

You tense up and look down at your feet. 

“How much does he hate me?” 

If you’re being honest, you really don’t want to hear the answer. 

Chan scoffs, “Hate you? He doesn’t hate you. He’s just hurt, Y/N. The same way you are. You both hurt one another.”

Looking off to the side, you cross your arms. “Yeah, well. He started it.”

“Don’t be childish.” He nudges you playfully with his elbow. “Distance is hard for close relationships. It was a miracle that you two went this long without a fight.”

You nod your head and bite your lip. 

“I miss him so much.” 

“He’s just across the street, you know.” 

You laugh which causes Chan to laugh.

The barista calls out your name and then says Chan’s right after. 

“Come on, Y/N,” he loops his arm through yours and you both walk out of the coffee shop and into the office building. 

You sip your coffee nervously, the taste is barely hitting your tastebuds with how preoccupied your mind is. 

The elevator ride up to the appropriate floor is simultaneously the longest and shortest ride of your life. 

What’s the worst that can happen, Y/N? He punches you in the face? Pushes you down the stairs? Maybe grab your coffee out of your hand and dump it over your head?

As if he ever would. 

The doors open and you both step out of the elevator. 

Loud voices carry down the hall and you giggle. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve heard you guys in person and not over a phone.”

“It’s louder in person.” Chan sighs and leads you down the hall. 

Each step is a death march of sorts. 

The conference room door swings open before Chan could grab the handle. 

Your heart rate spiked and then flatlined. 

Jeongin stood there with wide eyes and parted lips. He stared at you with every single emotion known to man. 

“Hi Jeongin,” you whisper, holding your coffee tighter. 

He says nothing. 

Jeongin steps out of the doorway and wraps you up tightly in his arms. One hand on the back of your head, the other on your waist. 

A surprised noise leaves your lips and your eyes widen. 

The coffee cup is taken from your hand by Chan who slinks into the conference room, the door closing softly behind him. 

Without a second thought, you return the hug. 

When your arms wrap around him too, a sigh of relief leaves Jeongin’s mouth and his shoulders slump inwards even more. 

He didn’t expect you to hold him. He didn’t expect you to even want to see him. 

Your arms tighten around his body and it feels like ice thawing from his heart. 

Jeongin’s throat tightens and he buries his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. 

He hasn’t held you in so long. He’s missed your touch so badly. 

Jeongin, who hates skinship, couldn’t wait to have you touch him. 

Your hand begins to rub circles on his back and he melts into you like a puddle. 

“I’m so sorry, Jeongin,” you whisper. 

The dams of his heart begin to crack and break. Every pent up emotion he’s felt for the previous three weeks bubbles to the surface. He stifles a sob and holds you tighter. 

“No, please, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His chest sputters with a cry. 

You pull back from him and look up at him with red, glassy eyes. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?” you push out a laugh in between tiny cries.

You’re trying with all your might not to let the tears fall down your cheeks.

Jeongin isn’t doing much better. His eyes are red and you can see the tears brimming in them.

Three weeks, you haven’t talked. It was the longest span of time the two of you went without speaking ever. 

You reach up and cup both of his cheeks. Jeongin’s eyes close and he leans into your touch.

“I missed you so much, Jeongin.”

He winces at your words and his lips pull into an even deeper frown,

Jeongin brings his hand up to cup yours against his face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he repeats.

You step closer to him and press your lips to his cheek. Jeongin gasps under his breath and stiffens underneath you. The skin underneath your lips heats up.

“I forgive you, Jeongin.” You smile and back away from him. He watches you closely with wide eyes. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, you know?”

He smiles sheepishly and nods. “I forgive you too, you know.”

The elevator pings behind you and your new boss walks out with another important looking man. 

He smiles kindly at you. “Let us get this meeting started, no?”

-------------------------------------

The first concert went off without a hitch. 

Because of your position, you’re traveling with the entire crew and the members. Sleeping in the same hotels, going to the same restaurants, using the same transportation.

Sometimes you feel like a ninth member.

The boys all stood on stage with their hands interlocked to take their first final bow of the tour. You smile behind the camera and make sure to get all of them in the shot.

Jeongin spots you from the stage and smiles directly at you in the media pit. Your smile pulls even brighter and you focus the camera on him for some solo shots.

He winks once before turning to wave goodbye to some Stays in the floor seats.

Your heart flutters, it’s the happiest you’ve been in weeks. Hell, maybe even months.

All of the members exit the stage soon after and you walk with your security escort backstage.

You’re able to hear them before you see them. They’re as loud as ever, yapping about how well everything went, how happy they were to see so many Stays, how they can’t wait for the next show.

When you turn the corner to the dressing room with a bright smile on your face, they all turn and look at you.

“Congrats, guys!” you cheer and clap for them.

They all beam and say thank you. 

Jeongin crosses the room to stand by you. He still has his beanie on.

“What did you think?” he asks happily.

“I loved it! I think I took close to two thousand pictures. Maybe more. I’ll have to go through them on my laptop later.”

“That can wait!” Minho calls from the back of the dressing room. “We’re celebrating tonight!”

“Celebrating how, Mr. Lee?” you tease and hear his signature giggle.

“With booze and games back at the hotel.” Jisung answers for him. 

“Oooh,” your mood brightens. “I’m always up for that. You’re right, pictures can wait.”

“Great, then it’s settled.” Jisung claps his hands together once. “One hour, we all meet in my room.”

-------------------------------------

They were not joking around with the amount of booze on his hotel counter. You would swear you were at another frat party.

In your cup, you were nursing your third rum and coke of the night. You made the mistake of asking Changbin to make this one. After the first sip you knew this one was going to have to be taken slow. 

Everyone was sitting in various seats in the room, some on the bed, some on chairs or the floor. The TV was playing a movie that no one was paying attention to.

“Okay, Felix, truth or dare.” Hyunjin asks.

“Truth– no, dare– no, truth.”

“Final answer?”

“Truth.”

“Who was the last person you stalked on social media?” Hyunjin asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“Ah,” Felix thinks for a moment with pink cheeks. “Oh! An old friend from Australia.”

“Just a friend?” Minho jokes.

“Yes, yes, just a friend.” Felix laughs, waving him off. “Y/N, truth or dare?”

You perk up from your seat on the couch. Jeongin sat on your left, his entire side flush with yours.

“Um, truth, I don’t feel like getting up.”

“What’s your body count since you went to America?”

Your eyebrows raise and you cock your head to the side.

Jeongin stiffens up noticeably next to you, he practically jokes on the drink that he was taking a sip of. “Felix, you can’t just–”

“Two.” you answer quickly and take a large swig of your drink.

Jeongin’s head whips around to look at you as if you just shot everyone in the room. You stare back at him with a confused face.

“What?” you ask, getting defensive. Embarrassment crawls up your neck. “I know it’s not a lot, but I’ve been focused on class and everything, you know?”

“No, I just– I didn’t think that–” Jeongin stutters and looks everywhere but at you. “I didn’t know and you–”

“Tell you everything? I didn’t think you wanted to hear about it.”

“Was it Ryan?” he blurts without thinking.

Your face pulls into a shocked, angry expression. “Excuse me?”

“Was one of them Ryan?” he presses further. The alcohol gave him loose lips. 

“Why would–”

Chan interrupts the two of you, “Anyway! Your turn Y/N.”

You stare at Jeongin for another couple of moments before looking away at the group of men. You shake your head in disbelief before taking a deep breath. 

“Seungmin, truth or dare?”

-------------------------------------

“You know you didn’t have to walk me back to my hotel room, it’s only one floor up.”

Jeongin insisted on walking you back up to your room when everyone started turning in for bed. The hotel hallway was eerily quiet compared to the noise filled room that the two of you just left.

“You never know what could happen in a hotel hallway.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

The two of you take the stairs up to your floor and walk in silence until you reach your room.

“Oh, wait. There was a picture I took tonight that I want you to see! Really quick, come on!” You quickly unlock your door and drag him into your room. 

Jeongin stumbles in and looks around. Your room is spotless, just a few clothes strewn about. 

You walk over to your camera sitting on the desk and pick it up, looking through the pictures for the one you wanted to show him.

He watches you closely, your face is only illuminated by the small screen display. Your tongue is sticking out between your lips in concentration. 

Two? You slept with two people since you’ve been in America? Jealousy began churning deep within his gut and coursing through his veins.

He’s been so busy with being a trainee, then debuting, then training and rehearsing and recording that he hasn’t… he hasn’t been able to be with anyone. Nor has he wanted to. Because none of the people he could have were you.

Jeongin was so hopelessly devoted to you.

Your phone dings on your desk and you look over at it, an angry sneer twitches at your lips and you roll your eyes and then look back at your camera.

“What was that?” Jeongin asked, stepping closer towards you.

You look at Jeongin, then at your phone, then to your camera. “Nothing, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Jeongin lifts a brow curiously. You look back up at him and roll your eyes.

“It’s Ryan.”

Oh, Jeongin saw red for a moment. But, he kept it to himself to the best of his abilities.

“How’s that going, by the way?” Jeongin asks. He really does not want to know the answer. But, morbid curiosity got the better of him.

You hesitate, your finger stops moving on the camera to scroll through the album.

“It didn’t work out.” you tell him without looking up.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip and look up at him. “Are you? Are you really, Jeongin?”

Jeongin is taken aback by your small outburst. “Y/N, I–”

“Because you seem to be super invested in him, Jeongin.” you lower the camera, staring Jeongin in the eye. “Every time I bring him up, your eye twitches. You can’t fool me, I know you too well. I know you hate the guy.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Then what if I did fuck him?”

Jeongin scoffs and looks away angrily, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t care.”

Oh, he cares so much. His skin is fucking crawling.

“Look at me, Jeongin.”

His jaw clenches and he hesitates.

You put your camera back on the table and cross the final few steps until you reach him. You reach out and grab his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, forcing him to look at you.

Jeongin’s eyes widen and he stares at you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t care.”

His face twists in anguish. He stares deeply into your eyes, flickering back and forth between them. His mouth screws up in a frown, eyebrows pulling together.

He gulps.

“Say it.” you push. “Say you don’t care if Ryan fucked me.”

“I…” he opens his mouth and promptly shuts it. He swallows again. “I can’t.”

“Why?” you hush.

The grip on his chin tightens even more when he tries to look away from you.

Alcohol thrums through both of your bodies to create a pleasant buzz and lift your confidence levels with one another. 

“Why, Jeongin?”

“Because!” he cries out. His arms uncross and he grabs both of your shoulders tightly. “Because maybe I want to be the one fucking you! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

You’re taken aback for a moment. Truly, you didn’t expect him to be so crass.

“Because maybe I would lie awake in bed at night thinking about being your one and only.” Jeongin steps towards you and you back up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Because you drive me fucking crazy and I want you all to myself. Because I can’t stop thinking about fucking you into my mattress every single night!”

Your hand drops from his face but he snatches it up in his own larger one. 

“Do you understand how bad I want you?” he whispers harshly. His nose is scrunched up and he’s talking through gritted teeth. “I’ve wanted you so badly for so many years. I can’t even look at anyone else because you exist. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. No one else exists, no one else makes me feel like you do.”

“How do I make you feel?”

Jeongin stares at you for a moment before he brings your hand down to press at the crotch of his pants.

Through his sweats you can feel just how hard he is. Both of you whimper at the touch.

“I want you so bad, it hurts.” Jeongin begs. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you. I want you to be my first. I can’t be your first, let me be your last.”

Your heart is hammering against your ribs. 

Is this really happening?

“Please, Y/N,” Jeongin whimpers. “I’m begging you.”

He’s begging you to take his virginity right now? Right now?

“Now?” you ask, bewildered.

His dick twitches in your hand and he closes his eyes in what looks like pain, but you both know it’s pleasure.

“Please.”

The tension in the room snaps. 

“Jeongin.” you grab his attention.

His eyes snap open and look at you.

“Kiss me.”

He gasps, cock jumping in your palm again before he smashes his lips against yours with a grunt. 

He’s absolutely devouring your mouth with his. It’s wet and sloppy and completely inexperienced. But what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

Moans are slipping from his lips left and right as your tongues intertwine together.

Your hand slides from his dick up his body to tangle in his hair. Your other reaches up and you grab one of his from your shoulder to place it on your waist. He paws at your shirt with his long fingers.

You nip gently at his bottom lip and he moans.

“Am I dreaming?” he whispers against your mouth.

You reach around and pinch his side. He yelps and jumps a bit. 

“No, not dreaming.”

He swoops down and locks your lips once more. Your fingers massage his scalp and comb through his hair. 

You part from his lips for a second to yank your shirt off. Jeongin watches you with hungry eyes, he’s trying so hard to maintain eye contact with you, but he keeps glancing down at your chest.

“Yours too.” You point at his shirt.

It looks like he practically ripped the thing off. It flies off the top of his head and onto the floor. His bare arms come around your exposed waist, his lips searching for yours.

He’s frantic in his movements, like if he isn’t kissing you, he might die.

You grab his hands and bring them up to your bra clasp.

“I don’t–”

“Learn.” you hush against his lips and suck on his bottom lip. He moans and his fingers grasp at the clasp clumsily. 

He’s so focused on trying to unclasp your bra that you take the opportunity to kiss his jawline with an open mouth. Your teeth nip at his sharp jawline and he gasps.

Down his neck you trail your hot, wet kisses. 

With each passing moment, you can feel his desperation growing and growing. A frustrated whine comes from his chest when he can’t get it.

You bite his collarbone harshly and his knees buckle slightly, but he keeps himself up.

“Y/N!” he cries out, pulling so hard at your bra you think it might snap in half.

You giggle and have mercy on him. You reach behind yourself and unhook your bra in one movement.

It drops to the floor and this time, Jeongin has no reservations about staring at your naked chest. His lips part and his own chest starts heaving with pants. 

Another laugh comes from you. 

His eyes flicker up to yours for a split second.

“Are you going to touch me or just stare?” you tease him with a sultry smirk.

Both of his hands come up and cup both of your breasts in greedy handfuls. You moan at the sensation and wrap an arm around his neck, bringing your lips back to his.

Jeongin fondles your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples gently. Your back arches into his touch.

“Do it again,” you breathe out. He immediately follows your command, pinching and rubbing at the sensitive buds. Every single one of your noises is swallowed by his wet, swollen lips.

His kisses leave your lips and travel down your neck. They’re too gentle and innocent for your liking. 

“Fuck, bite me, Jeongin.” you beg.

Without any hesitation, his teeth sink into where your neck meets your shoulder. You cry out and roll your hips into his. 

The hands on your tits stutter in their movements before speeding up, the lust consuming his brain. 

He bites again and again just to feel your hips move against his, to hear your moans right next to his ear.

The tent in his gray sweats seems painful at this point. He continues to rut against your body for any sort of relief. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you pull his mouth off your neck. HIs lips break their suction seal with a pop and he looks into your eyes.

He already looks so fucked out it sends a bolt through you.

“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper against his lips. 

If it’s his first time, you want it to be memorable. 

He doesn’t put up a fight at all. His mind is completely gone, he just nods over and over again. You could tell him ‘jump’ and he’d say ‘how high?’.

Your hands slide down his sculpted chest, mapping out each of the muscles. Jeongin keens under your touch, closing his eyes and sighing in pleasure.

When your hands get to the top of his pants, you quickly slide them down, taking his boxers with them. 

Gray sweats pool around his ankles and his long, hard cock bobs as its set free from its fabric confines. 

Jeongin hisses when the cold hotel air hits him.

You lean up on your tiptoes and capture his lip between your teeth for a moment at the same time you grab his dick gently.

The whine he lets out is sinful.

He’s been dreaming of your touch for so many years, and now that your hand is finally wrapped around him, he can’t believe it. 

You release his lip and it snaps back into place.

Slowly, you slide your hand up and down his cock. So much precum is weeping from the head of his cock. Every movement pulls a noise from Jeongin. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed, Jeongin.”

He gulps and obeys your order, his cock standing proud between his parted legs.

Jeongin watches you closely as you sink down to the ground onto your knees. He fists the sheets on either side of his body with white knuckles.

He has to be dreaming. This has to be one of his wet dreams where he wakes up with ruined pants and sheets. 

Settling between his thighs, you run your hands up his legs. Jeongin watches your movements with a fucked out expression. The way your fingers glide over his skin raises goosebumps. 

One of your hands comes out and grabs his cock with a gentle, yet firm, grip. His eyes snap shut and he can’t stifle the moan that punches from his chest. 

His cock is so slippery from his own precum that your hand glides over the skin easily. 

You pump him up and down for a bit, alternating your grip from firm to gentle, changing the tempo from fast to slow.

His hips won't stay still on the bed, he can’t keep still even if he wanted to. The pleasure from your hand is fucking killing him. It’s all consuming.

You smirk. “Jeongin, look at me.” 

He cracks his hazy eyes open just to see you lean forward and lick a fat stripe up his entire cock.

Jeongin cries out and his head tilts back. His hips jump around and his legs feel like they go numb.

You open mouth kiss down the sides of his shaft.

The pleasure shoots up his spine, he can practically taste the electricity. 

Just when he thinks it can’t get better, you wrap your entire mouth around him and sink down to take as much of his cock as you could without gagging.

His hand flies to your hair and grips tightly. The strands weaving through his lithe fingers.

Up and down, you bob on his shaft, making sure to let the saliva pour from your mouth and down over his balls. 

Jeongin doesn’t even realize how hard he’s pulling your hair until you moan around him. He cries out at the vibrations and pulls even harder. 

Your other hand wraps around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

He’s on cloud nine, he can barely breathe. Every intake of breath takes his full concentration, you’re making him feel so fucking good.

No matter how many times he’s touched himself and imagined it was you, it could never compare to the real thing.

His eyes follow your head, watching his cock disappear into your mouth as you stare back at him with those sinfully innocent eyes.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him. 

He’s only able to last for a few moments with your mouth on him before Jeongin is panting out.

“Y/N, you- you gotta, ha– You gotta stop or– or I’ll– fuuuuck– Im c-close and I– hng! But I wanna–! I wanna–! I wanna fu-huck you!”

You swirl your tongue around his head and pop off his cock, sit dribbling down the sides of your mouth.

“You wanna fuck me, Jeongin?” you ask him with a sweet tone. It fucking kills him.

“Yes,” he pants out, “It’s all I want.”

“You’re gonna let me pop your cherry?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. After you ask that, you lean over and bite his inner thigh.

Jeongin yelps and tightens the hand in your hair. 

An embarrassed flush covers his neck and ears. “Please, Y/N.” he whimpers. 

Smirking, you stand up from the floor and make quick work of your own sweatpants. Jeongin watches you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue darts out of his lips and licks them when your panties drop to the ground.

“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him sweetly. 

He tears his eyes away from your naked pussy to look up at you. He gulps.

“How do I…?”

“You want me on top? You want to fuck me from behind? You want to be on top? How do you want me, sweet Jeongin?” Your hand comes out and caresses his cheek. “How do you want our first time?”

His cock jumps at the thought of you in each of those positions.

But one sticks out.

“Need you underneath me,” he whispers, keeping eye contact while his hands come up to rest on your hips.

Your hand cards through his hair. It’s so fluffy.

“Whatever you want, Jeongin.”

Leaning down, you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. It’s the tamest one you’ve shared tonight.

When you break apart, he chases after your lips, but you crawl onto the bed, laying down and making yourself comfortable on the pillows.

Jeongin follows your movements with innocent, fucked out eyes. He licks his lips again and his eyebrows pull together as he watches you.

You part your legs and run a finger through your sopping wet folds, making a show out of displaying yourself to him. He watches it like a hawk.

Slowly, you bring the finger up and stick it in your mouth, tasting your own juices.

“Come on, Jeongin. You said you were going to be my last.”

He turns and scrambles onto the bed, crawling over you and smashing your lips together desperately. Both of your legs wrap around his waist while he devours your mouth with his own.

His tongue is everywhere in your mouth, licking your own, invading and licking the roof of your mouth, coming out to lick your lips.

When you whimper, you feel his cock jump against your heat. Your hips roll onto his and his hips buck downwards into yours.

Both of you are moaning, panting messes when he pulls away.

“I don’t have a condom.” he says painfully.

“I’m on the pill.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jeongin, please fuck me already. I’ve waited my entire life for this.” you smile up at him with shiny eyes.

His eyes search yours with an equally sentimental look in them.

He nods once and lines himself up with your entrance. His head rubs along your folds a few times, making himself slick.

Your head tilts backwards into the pillows.

“No, please, look at me.” he begs breathlessly.

Immediately, your eyes snap open and you gaze into his.

Two heartbeats pass and he presses into you, his cock invading your soaking walls. The stretch feels so fucking good, you’re so horny for him.

Jeongin is the one that has the harder time keeping his eyes open, his pupils are blown out. His jaw drops in a strained moan, face screwing up almost painfully with how much pleasure is coursing through his veins.

His hips stutter a few times until he bottoms out.

“Holy fuck,” he whines. His hands clenched into fists next to your head. 

“You feel so fucking good, Jeongin,” you praise him, your own voice is fucked out. 

“I’m not going to last,” he cries and buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry about me,’ you coo.

His hips buck again and he whimpers into your skin. 

“Jeongin,” you call to him and he lifts his head. His hair is so ruffled and messy, lips are swollen and wet, cheeks covered in a permanent blush. “Fuck me until you cum.”

His eyes roll back in his head and his hips pull out and slam right back into yours. Both of you cry out, your back arches.

Jeongin continues to fuck into you at a sloppy, harsh pace. His eyebrows furrow in concentration. He looks down at your tits bouncing with each thrust, his head dips down and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Jeongin!” you cry out and arch into him. He moans around your nipple, biting it gently and rolling it with your teeth.

His thrusts are getting frantic.

He pulls off your tit with a pop and comes up to your face.

“Need you to cum with me,” he murmurs before capturing your lips. “Need it, need it, fuck! I need it, Y/N!”

“Give me your hand.”

He balances his weight on one of his hands and holds out his other one. You guide him down to your folds and press his long, beautiful fingers against your clit.

“Mmmm…” you moan when you guide him to rub in circular motions.

He feels you clench around him and he whimpers into your open mouth. 

“Just like that, Jeongin.” you rasp. “Keep that up and I’ll cum on your cock.”

“Jesus.” 

He rubs faster in some moments, slower in the others. His mind is swimming in the clouds. Everything feels so fucking good. 

Your whines get louder and louder, each one more higher pitched than the last.

“Close, close, close…” you breathe out against his lips. “Hah!”

Thank god. He’s been this close to blowing his load for the last four minutes, but he needed to feel you. He needed it.

“Yes, Jeongin! Yes!”

His thrusts get harder, his rubbing on your clit matches the timing. 

You reach around his back and scratch your nails up his back.

“Come on, Y/N.” he whines. “Cum for me, Y/N. Need to feel you cum around me.”

Your pussy clenches down on him impossibly tight, your head is thrown backwards and your mouth stretches open in a silent scream.

It throws him over the edge, he spills into you with one of the most feral noises he’s ever made in his life. It tears from deep within his chest.

He cums forever, painting your insides white. 

Jeongin buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both come back down to Earth. Your heavy breathing fans out over his back.

One of your hands starts rubbing up and down his naked skin. It’s warm and inviting and he wants to curl into it forever.

He eventually pulls his face away from your neck and looks down at you with stars in his eyes.

“Good?” you ask.

Jeongin laughs and leans down, pressing a kiss to your nose. “It was perfect.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

[thefreakandthehair]

apollo, who?

prompt: beach day | pairing: steddie | wc: 1.5k | rating: teen & up | tags: eddie munson pov, athletic steve, post-canon fix it, pining, reciprocated crushes | written for @pearynice for the @strangerthingswritersguild April Fools exchange! 💕☀️🌊

There are three absolute truths when it comes to Steve Harrington: 

The first is that Steve is a gifted athlete. 

The second is that Steve was born to thrive in the summertime. 

And the third, much to Eddie Munson’s chagrin and horror, is that the combination of the first two truths will be his undoing. In public, no less, because the universe has apparently concocted a plan to let Eddie live but to make him suffer nonetheless. 

Unloading the van had been easy enough— Steve grabbing the cooler stacked to the brim with soda, water, and snacks and Eddie watching as he’d trekked through the sand to where Robin and Nancy set up their chairs and beach umbrella. Most of the kids were long gone already, staking their claim with blankets and towels a few feet away from Robin and Nancy, leaving Eddie to snag the sunblock he’s basically been made to swear a blood oath to Wayne that he’ll apply generously over his scars. 

He leans back over the passenger seat to grab it from the center console, along with his walkman and sunglasses, and when he turns back around, he stops dead. 

Steve’s shirtless.

In the span of ten seconds, Steve’s already shirtless on the beach, nothing but swim trunks hanging from his hips, and Eddie realizes he’s underestimated how fucking beautiful this sight might be. 

The edge of Lake Michigan laps at the rippled sands as Steve reels back and tosses a football that Eddie’s pretty sure materialized out of nowhere to Lucas a few yards down the shore. All of his freckles and moles and scars out on full display, the sun beats down on his tanned skin and uncharacteristically messy hair that Eddie’s watched slowly morph from chestnut to ash brown over the course of the season. 

As Eddie applies his stupid sunblock, he lets himself stare unnoticed. Lucas throws what Eddie assumes is a good pass if Steve’s celebratory, “Great spiral!” means anything and when he puts on his sunglasses, it’s more to shield the blinding light of Steve’s smile than the sun. Maybe it’s cliche, maybe it’s overdone and contrived, but Eddie can’t stop himself from comparing Steve to a Greek fucking God. 

Apollo, who? 

El appears next to Steve and Eddie continues to watch— about three layers of sunblock in at this point because he’s lost track— as Steve demonstrates something. Holding the football in one hand, he points at the laces and seems to check in with El for understanding before handing it over to her and adjusting her grip slightly. When she attempts to throw it to Lucas, it falls short and lands in the sand just a few feet away from where she and Steve stand. 

Eddie’s chest fucking swells as Steve trots over to grab it and simply hands it to her again, smile in place to counteract El’s pout. Three or four tries later, the ball flies straight enough for Lucas to catch it and Jesus H. Christ, Steve cheers like she scored a touchdown, or whatever the fuck it’s called. 

He can’t leave the side of the van. If he makes his way down to the beach, it’ll be all over for him. He’ll have to hide in the water the entire time, and now there’s too much sunblock on his face to blame the inevitable flush on sunburn. It’s fine, he can hang back. Everyone looks preoccupied anyways and with any luck, no one will notice he’s not enjoying the surf and sand with everyone else until it’s time to leave— 

“Eddie!” 

Right, he thinks to himself. I have no luck. 

Steve waves at him to come join, turning that sunshine smile directly at him and it’s a direct hit. Apparently, even on the opposite side of the sands, he’s still a goner. 

“Eddie! C’mon, what’re you waiting for?” He calls out again, both hands resting on his hips. 

It does nothing to quell his urge to stare at places friends aren’t supposed to stare at. As far as he knows, the only person to have picked up on his unfortunate crush is Nancy, who’d seemed to understand the importance of discretion and hasn’t said a word. If he can leave this beach day with his secret intact, he’ll chalk it up as a success. 

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” 

With a deep breath, he locks and slams the passenger door to the van and walks out onto the hot sand, barefoot with his sneakers in one hand, SPF 70 in the other, and sunglasses hung over his nose. Distantly, he recognizes the grittiness of the sand beneath his toes and the earthy scent of the freshwater stretching out for miles in front of him but more acutely, he just keeps his eyes on Steve. 

Please let these glasses be tinted, he thinks. 

“Finally, what the hell were you doing up there?” Steve asks when he makes it down the narrow path lines with tall grass. 

“Aw, did you miss me, Big Boy?” Eddie drones with a smirk. If he just acts normal, no one will know the difference. It’s not like Steve ever flirts back—

“And if I did?” 

He hasn't planned for that response. All he’s prepared for is a gentle eye roll, maybe a flustered laugh or furrowed brow, and now Steve’s shirtless, sun-baked, sweat dripping from his temple and suggesting he missed him. 

What the fuck. 

“Heads-up!” Lucas yells and Steve turns just in time to take two steps backward and catch the football coming in their direction. 

There’s no way for Lucas to have known he’d just saved Eddie from something horrendously embarrassing, but he’ll find a way to thank him all the same. 

“Ever throw a football?” Steve holds the oblong ball in one hand, wiggling it at shoulder height with a grin. “I taught El how to throw a spiral, so I think I can teach you, too.” 

Okay, actually, he’s still being subjected to something humiliating. 

“Sports have never really been my—”

“Don’t start with that, c’mere. It’s easy.” Steve gestures with a nod of his head for Eddie to join him further out on the beach and like a satellite to its orbit, he follows. 

It takes way more attempts than it did El— something Max was all too quick to point out loudly— but he does eventually throw something that Steve considers a spiral. Maybe it would’ve taken fewer tries if Steve hadn’t insisted on standing directly behind him, adjusting his stance and grip with his chest damn near pressed against Eddie’s back. 

Of all the unfair cards life has dealt him, this has to be the worst. More than once, he makes eye contact with Nancy who raises an eyebrow and smirks before returning her attention to whatever she and Robin are talking about. 

Probably him. Him and Steve and his dumb, dumb, dumb crush that’s ruining his life. It’s fine. 

When he finally throws the ball at an acceptable angle, Steve claps him on the shoulder and stands next to him, effectively draping an arm over both shoulders. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

He swallows and turns, breath catching his throat. All of the sun has brought Steve’s freckles to the forefront, a shade darker than usual with new tiny pinpricks of color appearing along his nose with a faint pink hue along his cheekbones. 

If they weren’t in public, he’d do something very, very stupid. Instead, he clears his throat subtly and finds words. 

“Sure, yeah, I’m a regular sports guy now, Steve. Guess I’ve gotta find something to teach you, huh? Y’know, return the favor?” 

“I’ve always wanted to learn guitar. You can show me the basics some time. Or uh,” Steve grins and lowers his voice. “I’m sure there are some other things we can learn together.” 

Eddie’s fully lost track of how many times he’s been caught off-guard so far today, but this one takes the cake. Steve’s fucking flirting with him. Actually flirting with him. Beating him over the goddamn head with it, really. 

“Yeah! Yeah, uh, yeah,” he repeats, smooth. “To both, I mean. Yeah, to both.” 

Steve squeezes his shoulder and unravels his arm with a hopeful expression. 

“We’ll talk more when we aren’t surrounded by nosy shits, especially those two,” Steve nods at Robin and Nancy who wave with their fingers. “In the meantime, race you to the water?” 

“What is it with you jocks?”

He barely has time to get the question out before Steve takes off, plunging into the water a solid foot before Eddie even reaches the shore. 

“That’s cheating, Harrington!” He bellows, running through the sand to join him, heart thundering between his ribs and head still spinning from what just happened. 

“Sounds like what I’d expect from someone who just lost,” Steve shoots back, taking a breath and submerging himself before popping back up. 

Hair slicked back with the freshwater of Lake Michigan, Eddie watches as Steve runs both hands through it, then down his face and back into the lake. Water droplets glisten off his skin and Eddie wades a little closer, finding Steve’s hands once they’re submerged enough to disguise it. 

“Oh, contraire,” Eddie muses. “I feel like I just won.”

[akumakosuke]

Tw. Dom!Amab!Reader x Sub!Afab!Suguru, overstimulation, breeding kink kinda, multiple orgasms, squirting, Afab terms used to describe Suguru, size kink kinda, brief mention of somnophilia at the end.

Just a random thought about 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚..

Yall saw in the latest episode how his veiny hand looked wrapped around his lovely neck?

Now imagine 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 hands practically clawing at your back, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 desperately holding onto you, trying to ground himself and focus on something other than your massive cock drilling into his tight pussy as you force his body into mating press.

Your large hands grip the flesh of his thighs as you hold his knees against his shoulders, his feet dangle in the air, his toes curl and his muscles tense as you keep pounding his soaking pussy with the pace of a wild fucking animal.

It's not a comfortable position at all but neither of you care. You're both too caught up in the mind numbing feeling of each other's bodies.

Theres no words being spoken just your low grunts and groans, 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 whiney, broken moans and whimpers and the frankly sinful sound of your hips slamming against 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 the slick, plaph sound 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 pussy and your dick makes each time you ram your entire length inside his pussy drives you insane.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 warm, wet, gummy walls envelope your entire cock in the most blissful feeling you've ever had the pleasure of indulging in.

You could get lost in his pussy, God it feels so good you want to keep your dick in him forever.

And it's just as enjoyable for 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚, the feeling of your hard shaft driving its way into his pussy, hitting every sweet spot.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 feels so full as you use your entire body weight to hold him down and somehow drive your dick deeper inside him.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 head flies back, his eyes screw shut and his mouth open yet no sound comes out. His pussy clenches on your dick like a vice as he cums.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 pussy is so sensitive and swollen, he just came but your movements don't falter, in fact they speed up.

The feeling of his pussy clenching on your dick, the slick feeling of his cum surrounding your entire length sends you into overdrive.

All you want to do is pump his pussy full of your cum so you speed up, driving yourself closer to the edge.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 whines pathetically, the overstimulation becoming almost too much for him.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 body jerks violently as he cums again, he's thrashing in your grip as you bully your cock into his pussy, desperately chasing your release.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 doesn't know if he wants to pull away or pull you closer so you cum directly into his womb and fill him to the brim.

Your grunts and low growls get louder and more desperate as you reach your climax. Your dick twitches inside 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 pussy.

The knot in your stomach is about to break but 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 thrashing is making it hard for you to fuck him properly so you bring one of your large hands down to his clit.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 too overstimulated and fucked out to realize what you're doing then his eyes roll to the back of his head, his jaw goes slack, his toes curl and his body tenses, freezing completely as you roll his clit between your fingers.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 squirts all over the both of you, his warm cum and the tightness of his pussy send you over the edge as the knot in your stomach breaks.

Your hips stutter and you groan loudly as you completely sheath your entire length inside his pussy, the tip of your dick touches his cervix as a bludge appears on his tummy and you pump his womb full of your thick, hot cum.

𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚 lets out a downright pornographic moan as his womb gets filled with your cum. He can feel your tip against his cervix pumping your cum directly into his womb, your length twitching inside his tight walls, your rough fingers still relentlessly rub his clit raw, working him through his orgasm.

It's too much as fat tears roll down his face, his eyes glaze over and his entire body goes limp, his hands stop clawing at your back and fall to his sides, his chest heaves up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

Black spots start to cloud his vision and he passes out from the overstimulation and sheer exhaustion.

Your dick is still twitching and pumping him full of cum as you try and stabilize your breathing. You look down at the now unconscious 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚.

His eyes are closed, his plump lips are slightly parted, his long black hair clings to his face as sweat glistens across his skin, which is covered in bites and bruises.

Your eyes trail down his muscular body to where the two of you are connected and you groan as you feel your dick getting hard again at the sight of 𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖗𝖚'𝖘 swollen, abused pussy stuffed with your dick, leaking your cum, his clit is puffy and red and sudden you have the overwhelming urge to fuck your cum back into him even if hes unconscious.

Okay random thought over that's all I got.

[minthoons]

jealous sunghoon drabble!

jealous sunghoon! who spots you waiting in the hallway. He smiles, but that curve of his lips quickly drops as he takes in your expression. and more importantly, that man beside you.

He's filled to the brim with rage as he takes in the sight. a man, who looks incredibly ugly btw, hitting on you. and you, as breath taking as ever, looking slightly uncomfortable and shaking your head.

He knows he has to be calm and level headed about this, but a part of him is fuming. he has to physically calm himself down, remembering that he cannot cause a scene at all.

But all his rationale flies out a window as he sees the guy placing a hand on your shoulder. with a few strides, he pushes the guy's arm of you and put his jacket on you, making sure he's just in his tank top.

"Do you need something from my girl?" his voice is sharp, a threat lying there. with only the white, slightly see through tank top on, the guy can see sunghoon's biceps and abs.

He isn't that stupid, of course. He quickly shakes his head and scurries off, leaving a cocky, grinning sunghoon.

You turn around to chide him for being so cocky and to thank him for scaring that guy off, but you find yourself caught like a deer in headlights, understanding why that guy ran off.

You're starting to think that angels are real, and your boyfriend might be one. The big, ripped biceps, paired with the thin waist and bread like abs, would be lying if you said you didn't just fall in love with him all over again.

"Done staring?" his voice breaks your train of thoughts.

"Not really. You're so pretty and handsome and charming." You mused, giggling as sunghoon turned red.

"Would you kiss me, then?"

[kachowden]

The Farmer (prologue)

The smell of mold was thick, and permeated the room you had so dreadfully woken up in.

The back of your head ached in dull pain, that wouldn’t allow you to remember it’s origins. Your chest was heavy as if the wind had left you and your lungs had been squeezed empty.

Your skin felt greasy and stiff. You wanted to shower. You needed to shower. But you couldn’t move. You didn’t know where you were. Was there even a bathroom to shower in?

The rotting wood and rusted windows made it seem unlikely. Though you could hear the buzzing of flies and croaks of frogs from behind the wall. Most likely, wherever you were, was next to some kind of lake or pond.

The itch of your skin was making you want to jump in, regardless of what might be lurking inside.

When the door creaked open, it’s hinges scratching against each other unpleasantly, you only found the ability to glance up from where you head had slumped against your shoulder.

Dark, sunken eyes that looked ill fitting, like the skin sagged over a face that wasn’t meant to be there. Scratchy stubble littered his chin. Greasy, unkempt hair that looked to be self maintained, if the jagged edges weren’t telling enough.

His clothes looked like they needed a few washes. And the smell that followed him was…mostly unpleasant. Like stale water and must. Not the most offensive smell, but it made your nose scrunch just for a moment.

The man, who you could guess was a farmer of some kind, stepped forward into the room, nearing the faint light the spilled in from the filthy window panes. Just enough, to where you could see the odd grey hue of his skin.

“mornin’…”

Your shoulders scrunched involuntarily, folding the skin of your back as your ears took in his voice.

Deep, monotone and a bit gruff. Like the voice of a man who never slept a day in his life. But it echoed. Like two voices speaking as one, and it rang in your ear like a quiet siren.

You supposed your lack of response made this man uncomfortable, as his eyes darted to the side for a moment, and he stepped forward. Closer.

It was now you noticed the plate of food in his large, calloused hands. It was now, as he sat down beside you, that you noticed the stiff bed you had woken up on. It was now, as the memories flooded through, that you realized the predicament you were in.

Your car was busted. Your friends were missing. You, were stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the company of a stranger who offered to help you.

and a voice in the back of your mind told you, that you were being chased.

The shift of the bed and squeaking of old springs led your eyes back to the face of the farmer infront of you, who looked just as lost in thought as you were.

He mumbled incoherently to himself, brows narrowing as if he was in the midst of an argument. Fingers fiddled and curled around the saggy fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it seemed as if this episode had ended.

Before he looked up at you. And suddenly his brows furrowed deeper and his lips set into a deep frown.

“Your car…’s not gonna start anytime soon. You might be stuck here…’a while.”

Your chapped lips pursed, uncomfortably. “Can’t you call some repair men?”

He mimicked you, glancing away almost guiltily. “Ain’t no-body around here for miles. No land lines neither.”

Of course there wasn’t. You seemed to remember having lost connection of your phone sometime before your car broke down.

“…what about my friends? I gotta find them.”

“If they passed through here…I don’t think you’ll have much luck…”

What a comforting response. The farmer acknowledged your glare with an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “I’ll…take care of ya’ till you can get back on the road…”

“I can take care of myself just fine.”

The way he looked at you made you sick. Like dread had been poured down your throat and was slowly filling you the brim. His gaze was intense and foreboding, warning you that you did not know what you were up against.

“It ain’t just the animals out there you gotta worry about…it’s best of you to stay here. At least for a while.”

And how long is a while?

-1-

You learned very quickly, that a while was more than three days. And you learned even quicker, that sometimes it was better to not ask questions.

That was one of the rules here.

1. Don’t go out at night

2. Don’t open the shed

3. Don’t ask questions.

That last rule kept you sane.

Don’t ask why you couldn’t go out at night. Don’t ask why you can’t go in the shed.

Don’t ask why the farmer talks to himself. Don’t ask why his bedroom is never used.

Don’t ask why the cattle go stalk still when he’s nearby. Don’t ask why the crickets stop singing and frogs stop croaking when he’s outside.

Don’t ask about the smell. Don’t ask about the lumps in the ground.

Don’t ask why your neck is wet and sticky every morning. Don’t ask about your car. Don’t ask about your friends.

Don’t ask how long you’ll be stuck here.

Live ignorant while you’re here. Don’t think. It’s safer, to stop thinking. You’ll lose yourself if you think too much.

Those weren’t your words. You weren’t sure who’s they were. But they worked. They were comforting.

So you didn’t think. You no longer wondered where your friends were. You no longer wondered how long you’d be stuck here, or how long it’d take to fix your car.

The farmer took care of you. He said he would, and he did. You ate well, you slept okay and you smelled better then you had when you first woke up.

You paid little mind to the lingering touches or intense stares.

Or the moments you swore you heard something growl when you passed by.

Nothing was perfect. But it was safe.

Because you followed the rules.

Until you didn’t.

The mistake of needing the toilet late at night. The mistake of leaving the farmhouse into the pitch dark land around you. The mistake of opening the shed, thinking that it had been the outhouse you were looking for.

The mistake of asking questions, when a dark mass of oil and flesh stared back at you.

“What the fuck is that?”

You didn’t feel so safe anymore.

[thesassypadawan]

Perfect Pet (Burnt Darth Vader X FemPetReader)

Summary: You’re such a perfect pet, letting him do to you like he pleases…whenever…wherever. Even if it’s on his throne, before an unwilling audience.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Public sex, some manhandling…and Vader’s big, scarred dick.

- ‘Look at you, taking my cock so well in this tiny cunt. So wet, so tight. Such a perfect pet, letting me do to you like I please…whenever…wherever. Is that not correct?’

- A whine is your only response. As your lord pounds into you…as he bounces you on his lap. All the while sitting upon his throne…all before the eyes of two of his ‘most trusted’ generals.

- In the beginning you attempt to maintain the small amount of dignity you possess… To not tip your hand at how much you enjoy this…

- However it's difficult to do so when you've been stripped of your clothes. Thick length driving into you over and over. Scar tissue rubbing your gummy walls deliciously. Slick trickling down your thighs, his glistening in the ominous red light.

- The sound of slapping is nearly deafening to your ears. Echoing off the marble walls. Mingling with your desperate cries, begging for him to… “Touch me. Please, my lord. Please.”

- Dark laughter rings throughout your mind. ‘Filthy thing.’ And a gloved hand finds your neglected nub; circling, teasing it with the grainy texture. ‘Close…already?’

- Fluttering and clenching, the heat inside you becoming overwhelming. You mewl softly, hanging your head. Trying to conceal the flush of embarrassment…not wanting to meet their gazes.

- Grabbing your chin, he pulls your head back up roughly. ‘No, let them see. See how I make you feel…how beautiful that face is when I make you cum.’

- “Y-yes…yes, m-my lord.” Pinching your clit hard, a feral moan flies from your mouth. Fingers grip his strong legs tightly, nails dig in. Clutching onto him, seeking to anchor yourself. Pussy spasming around him, drenching his cock.

- Hips stutter then stop, hands glide up your sides. Rubbing them surprisingly gently, soothingly as you slowly come down from your high…ridding out the last pleasurable waves of your orgasm.

- This seemingly kind treatment does not last long. You barely catch your breath when he begins to rock back and forth. ‘Love it… You love being a personal cocksleeve… Being kriffed stupid, until you can no longer walk…’ Before bucking wildly; driving, pounding into you brutally.

- Grasping at your chest, he tugs and rolls your nipples between his fingers. You're so sensitive, so overstimulated that your head falls back onto his shoulder. Lips parting, a weak whimper escaping you. Peak quickly building, release rapidly approaching. “I… I…”

- Slapping your breast harshly, you cry out. Whole body tensing up, clenching. The faint sound of growling in the back of your mind. ‘Of course you do… Now be a good whore…let go… I know you can easily give me another…’

- Tweaking your pebbled buds with one hand, squeezing your hip with the other. Phantom fingers play with, invisible teeth nip at your clit. While he thrusts into you unbridled, deeply. Bruising your poor cervix repeatedly.

- Eyes go cross, vision blurs. Tears that have been held at bay, stream freely down your face. Unraveling completely, totally. Incoherent babbles falling from your lips, head slumping forward.

- His hips slow and stutter again. ‘What did I say?’ Fingers hook underneath your chin, tilting your face back up. ‘Let them see…’

- Forcing you to stare your unwilling audience in the eye. As he drags his length against your spent walls, the ridges sending sparks of ecstasy down your spine. ‘I want them to see my little slut…my perfect pet… When she comes undone once more… When I finally fill her up…to the very brim.’

- “Y-yes, my lord…” You mewl pathetically, tremble uncontrollably. Allowing him to do to you like he pleases…whenever…wherever… “Th-thank you…”

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @loverforoldermen

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Chapter 1

Request:No

Warning: Kidnapping, the girls wanna kill you at first, nothing else tbh

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu, Villager!Y/N

A/N: This has been giving me a little trouble but I believe it’s ready! I hope you all enjoy and I apologise for the weird cut off 😅

Directory: Prologue, Chapter 1 (You are here)

The warmth seeps through your clothes and into your bones on long the chill of mid winter right out of your body, the houses in the village are never able to be this warm no matter how high the fires roar.

“Who is this?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“You’re pretty~”

Three disembodied voices echo out in the large foyer and as you look around you see nothing and no one. That is, until a mass of flies tumble down the stairs and splits into three smaller masses, and surround you in a swirl of buzzing insects.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty, she's uninvited.”

“What does she have in her hands?”

“Give it here!”

Your arms are tightly wrapped around the box, eyes wide in fear and confusion at how a mass of flies is talking at all. The feeling of hands prodding at your body and pulling at your shoddy cloak makes you flinch and step back,a sharp push lands you on your bottom but you have no time to react as you are pulled by your cloak. You slide across the floor being slammed into walls and tables, the only thing you can do to minimize the bruising is to curl up and wait for the world to stop moving. Finally, you come to a halt in an even warmer room, in the centre is a large chair by a wooden table and a fireplace, one that rages so large you think if it was in the bakery it would burn the building down. In the chair, sits a woman with pale skin, dark curled hair, a large wide brimmed hat, and a slightly off-white dress. She doesn’t strike you as odd until you realise how tall she is not only in comparison to the girls that this mass of flies had turned into, but to yourself.

“Mother, I bring you a trespasser.”

“We caught her snooping around in the foyer,”

“She’s a thief Mother! Look what she has in her arms!”

From the point on the floor, you can see a cloud of smoke puff into the air in front of the woman before dispersing. She sets down something on the table before speaking in an elegant voice.

“Very well done daughters,” She says as she stands, her tall form easily towering over you and her daughters. As her golden eyes land on your form they widen and her scarlet lips pull into a smile.

“Oh? Let her up.”

Doing as they are told, the hold on your arms is let down and you quickly sit up straight still cradling the box in your arms.

Her glowing eyes capture your attention for a moment rendering you unable to look away from their intense gaze. When you come to your senses, you quickly bow your head, heart pounding in your chest at the realisation of who exactly you were just staring into the eyes of. This is one of the four lords appointed by Mother Miranda,your mother told you this is where she lived but the reality of the situation you are in catches up with you like a slap to the face. You entered the home of a Lord uninvited, in possession of something that belongs to said Lord and then had the audacity to stare into her eyes and gaze upon her form. Your heart beats ever quicker in your chest as your breathing becomes ragged, the feeling of the silver pegs of the box as they dig into your chest anchors you. If you weren’t holding the box so close to you, your hands and arms would be shaking with nerves. The sound of her authoritative voice snaps you out of the stupor of fear you were in.

“Stand up girl,”

Doing as you were commanded, you use one arm to lift yourself up onto shaking legs and properly bow your head to her, eyes fixated on the tips of your boots which peek out from under your dress.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you.”

With a small amount of fear you slowly look up to her, golden eyes locking with yours as she speaks. The air of her authority, her power of overwhelming and enchanting all at once as she looks down at you.

“Who are you, and why have you entered my home uninvited?” She questions you, taking a sip of wine from her glass.

“I-I’m the baker's daughter from the village, I found this box and The Duke s-said it belonged to you.” You hold out the box as you speak, hands shaking slightly as you hold it up to her taller figure.

Her eyes leave yours for a split second as she takes the box. She has been looking for it for a week, assuming her brother stole it to get back at her for something she said to the incompetent fool.|| As her gaze drifts form your own, you find that you can breath a little easier, your chest rising and falling as you attempt to slow your rapid heart rate.

“Where did you find this?”

“In the snow, on the way b-back from the mill. I-I only found it today on my walk, it must’ve been buried in the snow.” You respond, stumbling over your words every now and then as the three girls around you gaze at your form with a predatory gaze. They remind you of hungry wolves stalking their prey from a dim treeline.

“And you thought to bring it here, knowing who lives here?”

You can only manage to nod your head, her tone almost condescending as she questions you. What else could you say? You knew that it was dangerous to come here of all places, even if it did belong to her. You then entered uninvited only because the door opened, and for all she knows you could have stolen it some how. The look on her face as she looks down to you again says it all: Are you brave or just foolish?

“What will you do with her mother?” The girl with brunette hair asks, walking forward a little.

“Let us hunt her, she will make a fine addition to my canvas!” The blonde spins her sickle in her palm, the blade smeared and layered in the blood of too many to count.

“No! She’s too pretty for that mother, let me keep her!” The last daughter says, her red hair draped over her shoulders a fiery contrast to the brown and crimson staining her cheeks and lips.

They spoke as if you weren’t in the room and you can’t help but shrink back as they fight like starving animals over who would get to do what with you. When you watch closer though, you can’t help but think of how they remind you of your own siblings hungry for your mother and fathers attention whenever they could get it. Despite your situation the scene brings a smile to your face, though it is all but snatched away from you when the woman silences her daughters with a single call, and relays her decision.

“Daughters. This young maiden is a guest in our home and has done me a great favour, we don’t feast on our guests. You are the bakers daughter, yes?”

“Y-yes ma’am,” The words leave your mouth quickly, afraid that if you keep her waiting to long she might change her mind.

“Girls, clean yourselves up. We will be keepin her as a guest for this evening. Do you enjoy tea?”

An amused smile pulls at her lips as she watches your eyes widen and your head tilt ever so slightly to the side in visible confusion. Only moments ago you where about to be killed or worse, and now she is treating you like a revered guest of honour. You watch as she sets the box down on a tall dresser next to another one similar, but clearly newer made.

“Tea?” All you can do is echo the last word of the question, the disbelief not quite shaken from you yet.

“Yes, or perhaps you would prefer coffee?”

“N-no ma’am, tea is perfectly fine, thank you.”

Now that you have shaken out of your stupor you answer her quickly, you’d never been fond of coffee. You liked the smell but drinking it makes you anxious and tired all at the same time, you’re father and eldest sister seemed to be addicted to it. She walks past your still shaking form and opens a door bending down under it’s frame to exit.

“Come.” It’s a single command that has you tripping over your feet to follow behind the larger woman. You are lwad down a series of hallways before you enter a decent sized room with a hearty fire in the fire place, two couches facing eachother, a table in the centre, a piano off to the side and several other furnishings throughout the room. She gestures to a seat across from where she seems to be heading and she pulls on a little string.

As you sit down, you realise that once again you are in the presence of the Lady Dimistrecu, in her home where young ladies are said to be taken and never seen again. You feel her gaze land heavy on your body once more and can’t help how your cheeks begin to flush under such an intense gaze. It’s as if she is sizing you up in some manner, those golden iris’ mapping out your every detail. Suddenly you are very aware of how messy you must look, you had come in from the winter cold and been dragged around before seeing someone of such high power. Your cloak is covered in dirt and flour from using it as an apron back at the bakery. Your face has bits of flour and the white powder somehow landed in your hair, the messy bun nearly falling out now after having been slung into walls and drug across stairs and halls. Summoning what little courage you have left after the series of events, you speak up.

“Ma’am, may I be excused to the lavatory?”

“You may, I will have Daniella take you,” The moment she says this, the girl with the red hair appears and eagerly takes your hand pulling you out of the room.

“What’s it like being the bakers daughter? Have you met any cute manthings in the village? What are Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans like when hunting?”

The entire walk to the restroom she asks you question after question like an eager child. She must be the youngest of the three, the way she was acts reminds you of your own little sister who has been at school for the winter, most of it anyway. Tomorrow she is going to come back for a short break, when the blizzards are to happen and snow people in. Your brother will be starting next year, he is sure to be a menace if he isn;t interested in what they are teaching him. Ever since he was 4 you’d been homeschooling him and teaching him how to speak and use his manners. Because of you he is one of the msartes children of his age in the village, not that there is much competition between 4 year olds to begin with.

“Here you are! Don’t take too long or mother might send Cass to get you!” Daniella’s cheery voice snaps you out of your thoughts as she stops infront of a door.

“Ah, thank you…I will do my best not to take too long.” You enter the bathroom and stand infront of the mirror and begin to right your appearance. You start with taking off your cloak, you lay it across the sink and beat off the flour and sugar the best you can making it look a little more presentable. After doing the same to your pants and your shirt, you use a small bit toilet tissue to wipe the flour off of your face before wetting your hands and slicking your messay hair back into a neat tight bun. The ribbon you use is worn and has seen better days, but is all you have for the moment and so you will need to make due with what you have. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror you crack a small smile, it’s not easy cleaning up the look of a baker with just water and some cloth but you did well. You wrap your cloak around you waist before finally turning to leave. As you walk out the door you nearly collide with the brunette from earlier, quickly you bow your head in apology only to be met with a single question.

“Why do you smell like honey cakes?

End Note: This was a little on the back burner because I’ve been planning other writing but I hope you all enjoy!

Total Words Count: 2,255

[genshin-impact-unofficial]

🌦Confessions gone wrong...

Genshin men and how they fuck up their confessions to you.

Ft. Bennett, Venti, Xingqiu, Xiao, Itto, and Wanderer

Tags: Fem!Reader, Long-Hair!Reader(Xingqiu), crushes, pining, fluff, pg, bad things happen to good people. Note: This thread is mostly humor. I just really wanted to bully some characters. No beta. Pay no mind to me trying to edit my mistakes after this has been posted. (Repost!)

Bennett 

Fatal Flaw: Honestly does nothing wrong, is just an unlucky dude.

There’s too many instances to count. The poor boy has really been trying to tell you his feelings for MONTHS.

In his excitement he wanted to be flashy and ask you out somewhere cool, like by the big tree in Windrise. The weather thankfully allowed it, but right as he was about to take your hand and confess, a swarm of crystal flies began swarming him. You didn’t know they could be so aggressive.

A restaurant! He could treat you to a meal and tell you there! When the two of you arrived at Good Hunter, it was unfortunately closed early for the day. Apparently all of the meat had suddenly gone bad…

You get the gist.... he’s been in this constant confession limbo for a while now. The more he wants it the worse it goes.

Bennett finally decided he didn’t need the bells and whistles. He cared about you a lot and he was going to confess to you if it was the last thing he did. And it damn well might be. With a new found determination, he ran out to do just that.

“Y/N!” Bennett called out when he spotted you by the Adventure’s Guild. He rushed to you, paying special attention to every stair step to keep from tripping. You turned around and smiled too sweetly when you caught sight of him. It made the boy’s heart thump in his chest. Were it not for his sudden tunnel vision, he may have noticed that cat running past him and not trip down the remaining flight of stairs. 

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself being carried up the familiar route to the cathedral. The adventurer’s face flushed bright red when he realized you were the one carrying him piggyback. It was embarrassing..... but it shamefully wasn’t the first time. Bennett sighed in defeat and simply leaned into your back. When felt his shift in weight, you glanced back to smile at him. You giggled at his clumsiness and it was like music to the boy’s ears. You told him how glad you were that he already regained consciousness this time.  

The two of you began joke around like usual and talked the rest of the way there. Bennett took the small victories.

Venti

Fatal Flaw: Tries to impress you too hard.

He knew exactly where he was going to sing his love ballad about you. The sound of the wind as it blew off the hills of starsnatch cliff would be the perfect accompaniment. Maybe it would need some encouragement, but it was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.

Venti wanted the wine to be just right for the occasion too. You deserved nothing but the best. And how else would he be able to judge the quality.... if not just a teeny tiny taste test? He had to be thorough about this choice after all.

The bard usually had enough self control to limit himself to a glass or two, but he felt his nerves get to him a tad. Venti had the confidence that he could show you a beautiful night, but in the end it was your choice whether to accept his heartfelt gesture. The archon respected your freedom above all else. 

They sure don’t call it liquid courage for nothing! Venti was brimming with confidence when he brought you to a picnic under a tree, overlooking the cecilias in full bloom. You were visibly in awe, and your reactions quickly inflated the bard’s ego to dangerous heights. “If you think that’s beautiful, watch this.”

A gust of wind flowed over the field, sweeping up all the fallen petals to dance in the air. It was unreal, magical, magnificent, splendid, it was…… buzzing? A thud fell between the two of you and effectively ended the romantic moment. It was a wasps nest.

“ABANDON SHIP!” Venti cried out, grabbing your hand and booking it downhill. 

Xingqiu

Fatal Flaw: Hubris.

He really doesn’t like to toot his own horn. Maybe once in a while when it’s warranted. But he really out did himself. Xingqiu read plenty of books regarding the art of courting, and they guided the way to what was sure to be the most romantic confession possible. 

The brilliance was in the simplicity of the plan. First he would begin with a gift. The two of you always met at the book store on your off-days. When he sees you wear your long hair in your usual up-do, he would offer the beautiful hair ornament he acquired. Maybe in your excitement, you would even allow him to affix it for you.

The boy’s stomach dropped when he saw you enter the bookstore. He stared while you looked around for him, turning your head left and right in an adorable manner. The movement accentuated your newest feature... a hair cut. “Y/N, over here.” Xingqiu called to you, his confidence was already wavering a little. You excitedly walked to meet up with him and offered a big grin.

Well all is not lost! This leads into his next step; Flattery! “Dear Y/N, you cut your hair. It looks-” “Ugh, don’t remind me.” You quickly cut him off, mood souring just a tad. You explain the tragic story of how you stupidly got a chunk of your hair caught in a lever. The only solution was to cut it clean off, the dramatic change was definitely still a sore topic. 

Now the boy was breaking a sweat. He changed to a new tactic, to cheer you up. Xingqiu dropped the subject and prompted that you both look at the newest releases. It would help to take your mind off things and he was banking on the last step of his plan to pan out. It was his last hope. 

The two of you settled on the docks and were eager to discuss the books you had just picked. Xingqiu had hidden a love poem into the latest book from your favorite author. He knew you couldn’t resist picking it up, so he stealthily slipped the note into the book you held. Xingqiu spend all night pouring his heart out just right onto the page, as if trying to convey every reason he should be by your side. He expressed his desperate want to be the one to protect and cherish you. Watching you now, talking about your day, left his brain dazed in admiration. It made him realize that all those little things before didn’t matter, as long as you knew how much he adored you in the end.

Finally, you pulled out your newest book to show Xingqiu. The distressed boy nearly fell off the dock. “T-the cover-” He stammered, quickly righting himself. You looked back at him concerned, and slowly explained that it was a limited edition cover. It was only available for the first hundred copies sold. When you saw there was still some in stock, you just had to snag one. 

Why do novels make romance it sound so easy....

Xiao

Fatal Flaw: One track mind.

Xiao had been hyping himself up for this one moment for weeks! He nearly talks himself out of confessing every other minute. You may not even reciprocate, but for his sanity he couldn’t keep hiding how deeply he cares for you. The whole situation was so uncertain but the hammering in his chest was proof that he had to do this.

Its like a band-aid he just had to rip it off. To get it over with. Xiao had no idea how to approach it and resorted to redeeming a favor owed to him. He needed to know what he was getting into and have a battle plan. When he approached Ganyu for advice he concealed most of the details. If she was any the wiser who he was asking romantic advice for, she was kind enough to not to mention it and let him keep his pride.

Xiao glanced down at the single glaze lily in his hand. The irony was not lost on him. It was almost humorous, an adeptus making an offering to a mortal and asking for their blessing.

It was almost the time and he prepared as if going into war. You greeted him and sat casually on the balcony railing of Wangshu Inn. Xiao wasted no time with pleasantries and held out the glaze lily to you. “Please accept this.” He stated. The flower was rigidly extended to the full length of his arm. The fiery determination on his face was  quite off-putting while offering such a delicate plant.

“Ah... I appreciate it Xiao, I really do, but I can’t.” You began to say, confusion steeping into your tone.

“I insist and I ask that you hear me out.” Xiao’s arm did moving an inch. It was the first thing Ganyu told him to do. He couldn’t abandon his path already. 

“What is going on Xiao? I really can’t accept-” You try to explain.

“Please.” His eyes were downcast and the yaksha’s tone was the closest thing to a plea that you’ve ever heard it. You were a tad bewildered and felt as though there was no use trying to talk him down right now. Left with no other choice, you reluctantly took the glaze lily in your hand. 

“Y/N I must tell you that I-” Thats as far as Xiao got before the coughing fit began. Your wracking coughs brought you to your knees. A wheeze is the only thing you could manage as you point to your bag. Xiao was alert and scrambling to make sense of what was happening. Your bag is brought to you in an instant and an arm wrapped around your waist to gently guide you to a chair. 

It took twenty minutes to fully get your breathing under control. You declined is offer to go grab you help. You just knew Xiao would disappear as soon as it arrived. It was a small allergy attack and nothing too threatening, but you could tell the boy next to you was profusely beating himself up for it.

You never did find out why he was so insistent on you taking that flower. What a strange guy. 

Itto

Fatal Flaw: All of the above.

The whole situation was more or less doomed from the start. Once his oblivious ass realized he was in love with you, it was over. The oni was going to confess to you so hard that people were going to be talking about it for YEARS!

It was an all hands on deck operation. Itto gathered the whole gang and then some. He was able to recruit the neighborhood kids to gather as  many sakura pedals as they could carry. The boys were on staging duty, making sure the location was so romantic it could even make onikabuto stop fighting long enough fall in love. Itto even managed win a few fireworks off Yoimiya. (She brutally crushed him in a game of Genius Invokation TCG, and mercifully tossed a couple firecrackers his way as a consolation prize.) SCORE!

It was all coming together! All that was left was to distract you for just a little bit longer. That was a job so important that he could only entrust it to his competent second in command. Shinobu tried to convince Itto again and again that he didn’t need all this extra stuff. Pulling off something this complicated was only setting his expectations to an impossible height. Overall wouldn't it be better to be up front and earnest with you about how he felt? Her genuine, good advice promptly fell on deaf ears. Itto was far too busy trying to find which color would make his horns look even cooler in the light of all the fireflies they captured to release right when he said he loved you. Shinobu left this trainweck to to its thing and went to go find you. 

She usually would’ve press the subject more, but she did genuinely enjoy your company. The Arataki Gang Deputy considered you a good influence on the boss and anything that could keep him out of trouble, the better. 

At last, the time arrived to set all the gears into motion. Now Itto just had to wait for.... The realization hit him. He hadn't told you or Shinobu a time or place too meet today. 

The bumbling oni spent a great deal of the afternoon searching for you like a lost puppy. “Yo! Y/N! Hey Hi! I gotta talk to you!” Itto yelled out across the road.  He had finally managed to catch up to you two. The guy was ecstatic that things were looking up, plan was back on track! If he hurried now he could get you to the location the gang set up before sunset. 

Itto excitedly told you that you HAD to see something. You were always amused by his antics, so of course you agreed. Without hesitation the oni all but dragged you out the door and towards the beach.

When you arrived.... oh crap.

Apparently, you need to get a “warrant” or something to set up the most romantic love confession of all time. Are they trying to say they own the beach or something? That's crazy now! The gang members were trying to explain themselves to the Tenryou Commission guards when you both walked in on the scene. Itto may have made things only a little tiny bit worse when he called the annoyed guard a “block head without a romantic bone in his body”, but no one was keeping score were they? Nonetheless, the whole altercation placed everyone on the scene in a Tenryo Commission cell... including you. 

Shinobu was gonna be so pissed.

Wanderer

Fatal Flaw: Forgets he’s supposed to be confessing.

The whole situation was incredibly annoying anyway. You were the one who wouldn’t take the hint, why should he have to spell it out for you. It’s not like he even wanted these feelings. It was all happening without his permission. On top of that, you were dense enough to miss the point every single time he tried to explain it to you.  

“Is something on my face?” You asked your newly reformed friend while putting down your book. He'd been boring holes into your skull for several minutes now. 

“No? Why are you asking dumb questions?” He snapped. You noticed Wanderer had been doing that quite frequently recently. You sighed in defeat and began gathering your things.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, I’m heading out.” You told him casually. 

You were usually pretty patient with Wanderer, but he’d been in some sort of sour mood lately. Typically it took a few more irksome things before he would start his attitude, but you just couldn’t figure out whats been setting him off recently. You decided it was best to just let him calm down and try again later.

“Don’t.” Wanderer said snatched your hand roughly before you could get too far. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t calling you dumb.” He spoke without looking directly at you. You made no movement towards returning and his grip on your hand did not let up. 

“And?” You prompted gently.

“Sorry. I’m sorry I said it.” He spat out, clearly annoyed.

You settled back down and asked him what's been bothering him. It’s clear that he was on edge and when you pointed it out his posture became rigid. He was a former Harbinger for fuck sake. Why was this so terrifying. He had been through hell and back without flinching, yet here you were just a person with a goofy laugh and weird interests. It shouldn’t be that hard.

“It’s your fault.” The boy accused, shooting you an annoyed glare. “These emotions aren’t exactly something that come with a manual.”

You blinked back at him in confusion and damn it now you looked cute.

“Stop looking at me! It’s weird.” Wanderer sneered, and immediately scolded himself for harsh it came out. You narrowed your eyes and pointed out that he was just staring at you just a few moments ago. Doesn't that make him weird too? “What? No! That was different. Fuck, you’re already missing the point. That’s why this is impossible with you!” 

You were loosing your patience and told him he was being just as impossible. “Me? At least I'm trying to talk here. You make things so much harder. If you just didn’t look at me like I asked, this wouldn’t have been an issue.” The boy jabbed back at you. 

The bickering went on for a while and concluded with both of you storming off in opposite directions. It wasn’t until Wanderer entered the second room over that he remembered what he was trying to say...... “Ugh, smooth.” He scowls.

<A/N: Hello again! I forgot this one was so long! Thanks for the love I've been receiving on my other works! I read them all and they got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair frfr!>

[captainjamster]

Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

-

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

-

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

-

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

[scoonsalicious]

Your Choice

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You're minding your own business at home one evening when local police Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes comes knocking on your door. Someone's reported a crime being committed on your property, and the sergeant can either bring you down to the station, or get you off with a warning... it's your choice.

Warnings: Language, because I have a foul mouth, explicit smut (unprotected PIV, oral (m receiving), fingering), mentions of drug manufacturing/possession/use, little bit 'o' bondage, implied dubcon, implied infidelity, implied abuse of police authority (honestly, read the whole thing through before coming at me for warnings, okay? I promise it'll make sense), bad cop jokes/puns/innuendos. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Inspired by actual events! And by that, I just mean the part where someone called the cops and told them I was cooking crack in my kitchen. Literally everything else is a figment of my imagination, alas! Special thanks to bestie @jmeelee for suggesting I take that awkward encounter and turn it into something to benefit all of mankind, and for giving me a title. The Cheesecake Factory is going to start forbidding us entry with the way we talk in there.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

______________________________________________________________

You put the tea kettle on to boil before sitting down at the kitchen table to start grading your students’ papers. You’d been hoping to get through as many as possible before your husband came home from work, but with the number of corrections you were having to make on these assignments, you’d be lucky if you got a quarter of them done before then. It was disheartening. Distance learning during Covid really hadn’t done the public education system any favors and you felt like you’d been playing catch-up for years now.

When the kettle eventually boiled, you pulled yourself away from your grading to make yourself a cup of tea. You had just settled back down with your steaming mug when you heard an incessant pounding at the front door, startling you. You briefly considered not answering— you weren’t expecting anyone, and besides, who showed up unannounced at someone’s door anymore?

Serial killers, that’s who.

But the knocking continued, relentless and heavy. After a few seconds, you heard a gruff voice call “Police. Open up!”

“What the hell?” you asked yourself, putting down the tea mug and making your way through the living room to the front door.

Peering behind the curtain on the front door window, you could make out the figure of a uniformed officer standing on your front porch. He was illuminated from behind by the streetlight, leaving only his outline visible to you. 

Narrowing your eyes in confusion and concern, you turned on the porch light, unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Can I help you, officer?” you asked cautiously. 

The man tipped the brim of his hat up, and you were met with a bright pair of blue eyes that glimmered with more than a hint of mischief. 

“It’s actually Sergeant, ma’am,” the man said to you as he tipped his hat and offered you a wicked grin. You breathed a sigh of relief-- you knew him. Of course you did. Your small town didn’t have much in the way of local law enforcement, and James Barnes, or ‘Bucky,’ as most folks called him, was a specimen to be revered. Ridiculously handsome, tall and broad, he was built entirely of muscle as he towered over you from the doorway. He was a favorite among the local female population, often being specifically requested to provide police presence at PTO functions and Ladies’ Auxiliary events. Despite the gold ring he wore on his left hand, the women of the town were drawn to him like flies to a corpse, much to the frustration of his poor wife.

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” you amended, with a touch of sarcasm in your voice as you offered him a smirk back, though you were still confused by his presence. 

“Well, ma’am, seems like we got a call reporting suspicious activity at this address,” he drawled, leaning now on your door jam, fingers hooking in his belt loops.

“Here?” you asked, surprise coloring your tone. “Are you being serious with me right now, Bucky?”

“That’s Sergeant Barnes to you, ma’am,” he responded nonchalantly. Oh, so he was playing it like that, then? Good to know. “Got a tip that someone’s been cooking meth in your kitchen. ‘m here to check it out.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Meth?! That’s a new one!�� You’d had some of your students call in pranks on you in the past, but this was an extreme.

“Ma’am, I’m afraid meth is no laughing matter,” the sergeant said in all seriousness. The look in his eyes immediately shut down any trace of humor you felt as you stared back at him. “The manufacture of illegal drugs is a very serious crime. I’d like to come inside and take a look, if you don’t mind.”

You pursed your lips. You remembered something your husband had discussed with you, and decided you weren’t going to make this easy for him. “Do you have a warrant?” you asked defiantly.

Sergeant Barnes sighed heavily and rubbed his dark stubble with the palm of his hand. “Ma’am, I’ve had a long shift. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Now, either you can let me inside, or you can come down and answer questions at the station. It’s up to you.”

It wasn’t an option, not really. “Come on in, then,” you told him, moving aside so he could enter. He walked through the door, his meaty arm grazing against the side of your breast as he did so, and you involuntarily shuddered at the sensation. You knew he noticed when you caught him smirking at you again.

“Kitchen’s this way,” you murmured, somewhat breathlessly, as you led him back through the house to the room in question. He followed silently behind you, his footfalls heavy and sure.

Once in the kitchen, Sergeant Barnes began looking around. It was obvious you weren’t in the middle of a meth lab. You were a high school English teacher, for god’s sake! You weren’t quite sure what game the sergeant was playing at, but you had no doubt he’d make his intentions known in good time.

After glancing around, he eventually said “Well, I can see there’s no meth setup here. Guess it was a false alarm.” You shot him a glare as if to say no shit, but he walked to the cabinet holding your glassware and opened it. “Well, well, well… what do we have here?” He reached in and pulled out a bong and a container of marijuana. “Now, I know next state over might have given the go ahead for this stuff, but in this state, recreational use of the Devil’s Lettuce is still illegal, darlin’. Mighty bad look for a school teacher to have it on hand, don’t ya think?”

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “That’s my husband’s,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. “And I’m pretty sure you just conducted an illegal search and seizure there, sarge.”

He put the bong down on the counter with a heavy clink and turned to face you, his face impassive and voice stern. “Now, seems to me someone’s got a problem with authority, darlin’. I don’t appreciate you talkin’ back to an officer of the law like that. Might need to teach you some manners.”

You swallowed thickly, finally having an idea of where the sergeant was going with his little drop-in and felt a frisson run through your body that left you trembling. Honestly, you were surprised you hadn’t seen it coming. There’d been talk, after all.

“Now,” he continued as he slowly made his way across the kitchen toward you, “as I see it, we got ourselves two options here. One: you can come down with me to the station and we can book your pretty little ass on possession charges, which is gonna take hours and require a hell of a lotta paperwork.” He was standing directly in front of you now, leaving just inches between your bodies. You sucked in a breath, the nearness of him making you dizzy. “Or two, I can get you off with a warning. Still might take hours, but at least we can both have ourselves a good time. Your choice, darlin.”

You took a step back, pressing yourself against the edge of the counter in an attempt to put some space between you. “I think you mean ‘let’ me off with a warning, Sergeant Barnes,” you said, your words coming out in an exhale.

You gasped as his hand came down to cup you between your legs and gently squeeze your mound through the fabric off your jeans. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I meant what I said, darlin’. But you gotta prove you’re gonna be a good, respectful girl, first, so why don’t you get down on your knees and show me how you obey the law?”

Your eyes widened at his command, unsure how to proceed. Unfortunately, Sergeant Barnes was impatient– he took both his hands and put them on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you down until you were kneeling in front of him, the large bulge in his trousers staring you straight in the face. 

“Best get to work, darlin,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening as you slowly brought your shaking hands up to his waist. With trembling fingers, you unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants. His massive erection was straining the fabric of his gray boxer-briefs, leaving a dark wet stain where the tip rested against the cloth, evidence of his arousal already making itself known.

Moving as though afraid of spooking a scared animal, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, tugging them down to just above his knees and setting his cock free to bounce up against his lower stomach. 

God, but he was big. If the women in town had any idea that he was packing so much more than just his gun, they’d never give him a moment of peace. You traced a finger along the vein at the base of his member, trailing it up his length to the weeping red tip. Coating yourself in his pre-cum, you used his essence as lubrication as you began working him with your hand. 

“Not that this doesn’t feel good, but what did I say about sucking it, darlin’?” Sergeant Barnes asked through a grunt as you pumped him. 

“I’ll get to it,” you told him, a hint of irritation in your voice. He had a lot of nerve making demands of you at a time like this. 

You felt his hand come and roughly grab you by the chin, jerking your head up to make you look him in the eye. “You got the right to remain silent, Sweetheart. I’m gonna be a gentleman and suggest you use it. Find another purpose for that pretty mouth of yours.” He took his hand away with a wink.

You licked your lips as your eyes took him in. Leaning your head down into him, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the underside of his cock.

“Good girl,” he moaned as your tongue circled his tip. “Keep it up. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good with that sassy mouth of yours.” You took him into your mouth a little bit at a time, teasing him as one hand worked his base and the other cupped his balls.

You weren't a woman who liked to be told what to do, but the dominance in his voice made you shudder, an involuntary thrill skittering down your spine. He felt intoxicating, dangerous and you had the feeling you were in way over your head.

“Mmm,” he grunted as you swirled your tongue around the swell of his head before deciding to take him in deeper. You relaxed your throat and backed off only when you felt his length bump against it.

"Jesus, darlin', where'd you learn that?" he asked breathlessly. His hands moved to cup your face as you moved rhythmically along his length, setting your own pace. He was blissfully lost in the sensation.

But then, Sergeant Barnes wasn’t one to give up control so easily, either. “Stop teasing,” he huffed out before threading his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly, a clear sign that he wanted more.

You didn’t hesitate to oblige, taking him deep in your mouth until you heard him groan in pleasure above you. His grip on your hair tightened as he took over guiding your movement, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth until he was fucking your face with abandon. The taste of him was overpowering, salty and bitter, making your cheeks flush with heat as you struggled to accommodate his size, tears running down your cheeks and drool pooling from the corners of your mouth.

"I knew you had it in you," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper now as he lost himself in the waves of pleasure you were giving him. You looked up to see his eyes closed tight, his lips parted when ragged breaths escaped his chest that was heaving like a wild beast caught in a trap.

He was close, you could tell from the way his body squirmed and the throbbing of his hardness against your tongue. There was an urgency in his ragged breathing and the racing pulse beneath his skin that echoed through your core. But he wasn’t going to finish yet. Not if Sergeant Barnes had anything to say about it.

A sudden force yanked you back by the hair, tearing your mouth away from him. You let out a surprised yelp, wiping away the excess saliva that clung to your lips.

“Upstairs,” he ordered gruffly, his eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He tucked himself free of your grasp and rearranged his uniform as he stepped back, giving you space to rise from your knees.

You smiled and nodded, your head hazy with desire as you passed him and led the way to the narrow back staircase tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He followed closely behind, his heavy boots echoing off the wooden floors in a steady rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest. You felt his gaze on your swaying hips with each step you climbed, a soft growl echoing from behind you that sent shivers down your spine.

You led him to your bedroom, a quaint space painted in soft hues with sheer white curtains rustling gently from the light breeze of the warm spring night. The unmade bed serving as a reminder of love you and your husband had made just that morning staring you right in the face.

“‘m afraid I’m gonna have to search you now, Sweetheart. Strip,” he ordered, his voice gruff with desire as he closed the door behind him. He didn’t bother with niceties or romance – this wasn’t about that. This was about raw, primal need.

Your trembling hands reached for the hem of your shirt and slowly pulled it over your head, revealing the delicate lace bralette underneath. His sharp intake of breath was music to your ears, encouraging you as you unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them daintily.

“Turn around,” he said next, and you complied without question. You heard him suck in a breath behind you as you shimmied out of your underwear, revealing the round shape of your backside to him under the dim light.

“Jesus,” he whispered, the raw desire in his voice making your heart flutter. “This is better than I ever imagined.” He walked up to you, the rough fabric of his uniform trousers brushing against your exposed skin making you whimper. His fingers traced your spine, gliding all the way down to the small of your back, causing goosebumps to break out all over your body. “Now, you remember your traffic laws, don’t ya, darlin’? You remember how stoplights work?” 

You nodded, knowing instinctively he was referring to safe words– Green for go, Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Put your hands behind your back.”

You complied and felt the cold metal of his cuffs clink around your wrists, locking them into place. You were now fully at his mercy.

He cupped your buttocks in both hands, kneading them gently while his lips found the nape of your neck. His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as he left a trail of kisses there. “Color?” he asked inbetween presses of his lips.

“Green, Sergeant,” you hummed. You could feel him growing harder against you, the enormous length of him pressing against your ass making you squeal and squirm in anticipation. His groan echoed in your ears as he held onto you tighter.

“Gonna need ya to spread for me, Sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky. Your heart pounded in your chest as you did what he asked, positioning yourself on the edge of the bed. His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart gently until you were open and exposed to him.

He let out a low whistle behind you, his fingers tracing lightly over your intimate folds. "You're soaking wet," he murmured, sounding almost awestruck. You flushed at his words, feeling a fresh wave of desire pulse through your body at his touch.

His fingers suddenly abandoned you, only to return dripping with warm slickness. He wasted no time in teasing your entrance, slipping his finger inside you and drawing out a moan that echoed through the room.

“You like that don’t ya?” he asked, his voice alluringly low as he curled his finger inside of you. You whimpered at the sensation, trying to push back against him for more.

“Patience, Sweetheart," he whispered against your earlobe before nibbling on it lightly. He slid another finger inside you, curling and stretching in a way that had you gasping for breath. "You're so tight," he groaned out, appreciating the way your walls clenched around his digits.

“Please…” you whimpered out, the anticipation making your body shake as you pleaded for more. “Please, Sergeant. I need more.” Your legs were wobbly, and with your arms trapped behind your back, you were finding it hard to keep your balance, but you wanted more of him.

He chuckled darkly at your plea, rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. Each touch was expertly measured, bringing you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, keeping you precariously balanced between pleasure and desperation.

“I’m doing this my way,” he grunted, adding a third finger and increasing his pace. You cried out, your vision blurred as the coil inside you tightened threateningly. You were so close but he wouldn’t let you fall, each moment bringing a new wave of frustration and desire.

Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, he withdrew his fingers leaving you gasping at the sudden loss.

"Get on the bed," Sergeant Barnes ordered, standing tall in front of you; his arousal painfully obvious. “Face down.” You moved to accommodate him, getting on your knees and laying your face down on the mattress, hands still pinned behind your back.

The sound of his utility belt hitting the floor filled the room, followed by the rustle of fabric as he stripped himself free of his uniform.

You squirmed on the bed, desperate for his touch but unable to see anything with your back to him. The anticipation was unbearable, each passing second feeling like an eternity as you waited for him to resume his ministrations.

He moved behind you again, his bare, warm skin against yours making you whimper in anticipation. "Breathe," he commanded simply, and you did, inhaling a shaky breath before exhaling slowly.

And then without warning he was inside you, filling you up in one quick thrust that had you screaming out, the stinging stretch quickly morphing from painful to something far sweeter. He grunted at the intrusion, pulling back slightly only to thrust back in again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, stopping you from moving too much as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind.

Each thrust had you crying out in wanton pleasure, your body trembling beneath him. "Sergeant Barnes," you whimpered his name like a sacred prayer, the cool metal of the handcuffs biting into your wrists as you tried to brace yourself against his forceful movements. 

He didn't slow down, didn't pause, just kept moving inside you with a single-minded focus that had you spiraling. His pace was unrelenting, his stamina seemingly endless. His fingers clutched at your hips in a bruising grip, holding you steady as he continued his merciless assault on your senses.

You felt him shift slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting a spot inside of you that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. “Please…” your plea was cut off by a gasp as he hit that same spot again, driving you closer to the edge.

But he didn’t stop there; instead he leaned over you, his broad chest pressing against your back as one hand slid underneath your bodies, finding your clit with unerring precision. He started rubbing it in tight circles, adding a whole new layer to your pleasure.

Every new thrust of his hips sent him deeper within you, each stroke of his fingers on your clit became more intense. You were a writhing mess beneath him, completely lost in the ecstasy he was giving you.

"Bucky," you cried out, forgetting to use his title this time, your voice hoarse from screaming, your body trembling on the brink of release. This wasn’t a game anymore.

"I know," he growled in your ear, his voice low and guttural. "I can feel how close you are, doll. Just let go."

And you did. The moment his lips closed around the sensitive skin of your neck, marking you as his own, the coil inside you snapped. Pleasure washed over you in waves, each one stronger than the last, pulling cries from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you.

He didn't stop his movements, continuing to thrust into you as you came around him, your cries only fueling his own desire. His fingers tightened on your hips while the other hand continued to work you through your climax, prolonging the exquisite sensation.

His pace became erratic, the rhythm breaking down as he chased his own release. With a final grunt and a whispered curse, he drove deep inside of you, his body tense as he came, filling you with his spend. His guttural moan carried through the room as he rode out his orgasm, each thrust sending little aftershocks through your sensitive body.

His grip on your hips relaxed slowly, his breathing heavy and ragged against the skin of your back. He stayed still for a moment, buried deep inside you, allowing you both to come down from your highs.

Finally, he carefully withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty. He rolled off of you with a sigh, getting up to retrieve the handcuff key from his trouser pocket and releasing you from your bondage.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft in the silence, as he worked to rub the feeling back into your tender wrists.

You looked up at him through your lashes and nodded, amazed and impressed at his sudden shift from commanding sergeant to tender, caring lover.

“So,” Sergeant Barnes began once he had determined there was no real damage to your wrists, “what time is your husband getting home?” You both burst into laughter as he pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair.

“Mmm, probably sooner than we expect,” you teased, leaning up to give him the deep kiss you’d been denied throughout the length of your little game. “That was a lot of fun.”

He chuckled and stood up, walking over to the dresser. “Yeah, it was; we should have done it sooner.” He opened the drawers, pulling out a fresh change of clothes for himself before moving to the closet to grab your robe. “Thank you for that; I really did have a long shift, and that certainly took the edge off. You were amazing, doll.” “My pleasure, obviously.” You’d been excited and intrigued when Bucky first brought up acting out his fantasy with you, but no amount of discussion could have prepared you for how much you had loved actually doing it. You raised your hands over your head, arching your back in a stretch, laughing as you watched his eyes follow the heave of your breasts as they moved upward, licking his lips. “But meth, Bucky? Really? That rumor gets out, you’re gonna get me fired.”

Bucky hummed as he grabbed some clean towels from the linen closet and brought them into the ensuite bathroom. You heard him start the shower. “You answered the door looking all sexy and I panicked,” he confessed, popping his head back into the bedroom, a sheepish grin across his face that made him look ever so boyish. You adored it. “Next time, I’ll say we got a call about you being a prostitute.”

You cackled at that, making him grin even wider. “Better not,” you warned as you got off the bed and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “otherwise I might make you pay for it, and I don’t think you can afford me on a sergeant’s salary.”

Bucky grabbed at his heart in mock pain. “Ouch. Well, how about we clean ourselves up and use the money I saved by not paying you to go have a nice fancy dinner, instead? How does that sound? We can talk about doing your fantasy next.”

You took his hand and led him back into the bathroom and the inviting warmth of the shower. “That sounds perfect,” you told him as you moved to stand under the showerhead. You planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky placed his hands on your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze before kissing your forehead. “I love you, too, Mrs. Barnes.”

You began to lather each other up, trying your best, yet failing miserably, to not get too frisky with one another. “Hey, Buck?” you asked after a moment, a question coming to mind that you’d been meaning to ask him.

“Yeah, doll?” He was gently scrubbing shampoo into your scalp, and it felt like heaven.

“How come you gave yourself a Southern accent?”

Bucky laughed and pulled you close, your back to his front, as he planted a kiss just behind your ear, right over the mark he had sucked into your skin. “I told you, doll. You looked so fucking sexy when you opened that door, I just panicked!”

[reminiscingtonight]

cowgirl's got my heart?

Cowgirl's Got My Heart Blurb

A/N: featuring a chaotic Leah Williamson

“Babe, do you know where my charger is?”

Straining your ears, all you can make out is the quiet buzz of the television going off in the living room downstairs.

Sighing, you make the long trudge down to the first floor. The closer you get, the more you can make out what is playing on the TV.

“Stupid Arsenal girls obsessed with the Arsenal boys,” you mutter under your breath when you realize it’s an Arsenal Premier League game.

You love your girlfriend, you do, but her English bestie has somehow turned your cuddle buddy into an avid Premier League watcher. You’re all for 'supporting the boys,' but less so when it comes at the cost of losing your quality time with Lia.

Honestly, how much football could a footballer watch? The answer is not enough apparently.

With the living room in sight, you sigh out your question again. “Baby, do you know where--”

Feet screeching to a halt, you have to fight the urge to groan.

“You’re not my Lia.”

The blonde head of hair sitting on your couch turns at the sound of your voice. Leah gives you little wave, toothy grin on show as she snuggles deeper into your cushions.

“Williamson, where’s my girlfriend?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs, eyes quickly darting back towards the television when the crowd momentarily breaks out into a cheer, which quickly dissolves into annoyed groans as the ball goes out of play.

“Who even let you in here?” you moan, thumping your head against the wall in frustration.

“Got my own set of keys.”

Your head flies up at that, eyes instantly zeroing in on the Arsenal defender. There, in her hand is a small keyring filled to the brim with what you can only assume are the keys to mutliple of her teammates’ houses.

Your eyebrow twitches. “You... what?!”

Before you have a chance to cuss her out or try wrestling the keys out of Leah’s grasp, there’s a soft hand wrapping itself around your forearm.

Turning around you come face-to-face with a very amused Lia.

You all but wrap yourself around your girlfriend, journey for a working phone charger long forgotten. “Baby, make her go away,” you groan, pressing your face deeper against Lia’s neck.

Your girlfriend chuckles, hand coming up to rub soothingly against your back. “Sorry, no can do. We’re watching our counterparts play.”

“You’re watching them lose,” you correct, flinching when a seat cushion goes flying and hits you directly in the head.

You turn around to glare at Leah, who has an equally as annoyed look on her face. “They aren’t losing.”

“It’s 0 - 1, they’re losing.”

Leah huffs in frustration and this time you can’t stop the smug smirk from rising to your lips. Leah lives to annoy the living daylights out of you but you do the exact same to her.

Though your smirk is quick to fade at the harsh pinch you receive.

Yelping, you turn to see Lia giving you a pointed look.

“What? They’re losing!”

“It’s not over until it’s over,” Lia quips, pulling you to the couch with her.

You let out a disgruntled noise when you end up sandwiched between the two Arsenal players.

Leah instantly throws her feet into your lap, ignoring your look of disgust. “Foot rub please.”

“Did you grow up with cave people? I know Amanda raised you better than to throw your feet into laps uninvited.”

“I said please! And I’m stressed. Watching the boys can be stressful sometimes.”

“Turn it off then!”

The frantic “No!”s from both sides of you almost has you jumping... Until you realize their four eyes are glued firmly to the television again.

“Sorry.” At least Lia has the decency to look apologetic when she sees your unamused face.

Leah on the other hand seems to relax further against the coach, toes digging deeper against your thighs as she crosses her arms behind her head. “Gotta get with the program, (Y/N). Football’s not a hobby or a job. It’s a way of life.”

She says it with a little smirk, self-satisfied expression on her face as she turns her full attention back to the game on your television.

Your eyebrow twitches again.

Leah lets out a yelp when you actually tackle her this time, hands digging around her pocket for the keys.

“You can have your football life somewhere else that isn’t my couch!”

Send me a fic title

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 60]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Tobias speaks with Dismas.

CW: Blood, violence, child death.

-

In the silence, Dismas gives them an uninterested onceover, starting at Nia and ending with Tobias. When the pangoro reaches Tobias’ face, his brow furrows, his chin lifting with a spark of interest.

Tobias can’t decide if he wants to glare back or look away. His throat is tight. He balls the hand not holding Nia’s into a fist, trying to keep himself from shaking like a newborn.

Suddenly, the pangoro’s brows rise, and a toothy grin lights up his face. He rears back as much as he can in his chains, roaring with laughter. He’d probably be slapping his knee if he could.

Tobias stares, stunned. When he’d imagined this in the past, thought about coming face-to-face with one of the outlaws, he’d never pictured laughter. He kind of feels like puking.

Dismas’ laughter dies down, but the jovial expression remains. “You’re the little brat from the mountains! How long’s it been? Five years? Six?”

He says it like a distant relative catching up. Like he’s asking how Tobias’ training has been going, instead of reuniting with the child he made an orphan.

“It’s been eight years,” Tobias hisses. He can’t decide if he wants to attack the pangoro or run away. Nia’s grip anchors him in place.

“Huh. Time flies. You’re still a squirt, but you were a tiny little thing then. No bigger than my paw.”

Dismas lifts a paw as far as he can with the chains restricting him, and wiggles his fingers. His claws flash in the low light. He could probably still crush Tobias without a second thought, but when Tobias was younger, when he was half his current size, it would’ve been effortless. Vivi was even tinier.

Tobias grits his teeth, anger slowly overpowering the terror. He can feel his control slipping, embers climbing into his throat.

“You a big-shot Seeker now?” Dismas asks, still so casual. He gestures to the scarf around Tobias’ throat.

Tobias’ free hand lifts, grabbing the worn material as if to keep it from him. This scarf was Vivi’s, and Tobias will die before he lets this monster touch it.

Dismas’ gaze moves to Nia. “This your little partner?”

Nia doesn’t answer, but Tobias can feel her squeeze his hand just a bit tighter. She’s standing tall out of the corner of his eye.

Dismas huffs. “You gonna say anything or are you two just here to waste my time?”

Tobias takes a step forward, fire boiling over. “Shut up! You aren’t the one asking questions here!”

Dismas’ brow rises. “Well, go on then. I don’t have all day.”

Tobias wants to lunge for the pangoro’s throat. Nia tugs him back a step, away from Dismas and back to her side. Tobias can’t tell if she’s shaking too, or if that’s just him.

Tobias swallows, gut churning.

“Why?” He rasps. “Why did you kill them?”

Dismas looks unimpressed by the question. “You were there, brat. Surely you remember.”

Tobias was there, but he doesn’t remember. He can’t. Every time he’s ever tried to remember the details, panic has risen like a tide, swamping his thoughts and choking him for air, sending him flailing until he stops.

Dismas, in response to Tobias’ silence, shrugs a shoulder. “Sulien ordered it.”

Tobias takes a breath, tears brimming in his eyes. He blinks them back. “Why did Sulien want to kill them? My dad was an instrument-maker. My mom was a mail-mon. My sister was six. They…there’s no way they were involved in something shady, and we…it’s not like we had a lot of money. So why?”

Tobias hates the way his voice breaks. He hates that this is how he has to get his answers. He hates being at the mercy of Dismas yet again.

The pangoro snorts. “It’s not like we went there planning it. There was a storm.”

Tobias knows there was a storm, but that doesn’t explain anything. Why would the storm be important? Tobias doesn’t know, he doesn’t remember, he—

…He does. He does remember.

———————————————————

It’s raining. Hard. Has been all day, and although storms usually pass quickly in the mountains, this one doesn’t look like it’s gonna let up anytime soon.

Since she can’t fly safely in this kind of weather, Mama’s home today—a rarity in the middle of the afternoon. She takes over for Papa’s lessons to let him work in peace, playing little games with Toby and Vivi to help them learn their letters and math.

Each time they finish a lesson, Mama lets them each hold onto one of her giant wings. She flaps them open to fling her children up with shrieks of laughter before gently catching them and lowering them back to the ground. Usually they can get three rounds out of her with cries of “Again! Again!” before she puts her foot down and they have to start the next lesson.

It’s a peaceful day. A bit boring, even, until late afternoon when a shadow—three shadows—block out the gray light from the mouth of the cave.

Toby recognizes the biggest Pokemon from one of his books. He remembers, ‘cause he’s a fire type like them. A growlithe, maybe? Wait, no, an arcanine.

His ear is shredded like an old piece of fabric, scars cutting through his fur and across one of his eyes. His fur is limp with rain, though, and he has a sheepish smile on his face, so he doesn’t seem scary.

There’s another Pokemon standing behind him with his arms folded and an unhappy scowl on his face. He’s tall, with black and white fur.

The third Pokemon, a crobat, came in dangling from the tall Pokemon’s arm, but quickly hopped off to huddle in the dirt instead. His wings are crossed over his body, looking too drenched to fly.

“Sorry for intruding,” the arcanine says, friendly and warm. “We were hoping we could get out of the rain for a while?”

———————————————————

Tobias blinks. He stares at Dismas. “You…you said you wanted to get out of the rain.”

“Yup.”

“But that…” Tobias’ heart is pounding faster. Why does he feel like he’s the one being interrogated here?

Tobias glances at the quagsire standing guard off to the side, as if she’ll somehow have the answers. The quagsire looks back at him, sharp gaze softened by something sad and sympathetic.

Tobias doesn’t have time for her pity. He avoids Nia’s gaze entirely, looking back at Dismas. “B-But that wasn’t true, right? You were just…lying. To get to us.”

Dismas snorts. “Why would we lie? The idiots wanted out of the rain.”

“But why our cave?!”

“We ran across your cave by chance, brat. Your family just had the bad luck of living in the first decent shelter we found going over the mountain range.”

Tobias stares at Dismas, disbelief making him feel numb.

By chance? Bad luck?

Tobias’ family was killed because of bad luck?

That—that can’t be right. Tobias lost his whole world that night. There has to be a better reason. There has to be some reason why his family had to go through that. Why he had to go through that.

“What do you mean?” Tobias asks, trying make the words a demand. They come out weak and lost. “If it was just by chance that you met us, then why did you attack us?!”

“You don’t remember.”

No, Tobias doesn’t remember, because he can’t ever let himself remember that night in full. Because when he tries, the panic comes back in full force and shuts him down before he even gets a chance.

Tobias snarls, a wordless and feral sound. A threat.

Dismas rolls his eyes. “Your mom figured us out.”

Tobias stops, breathing hard. Embers flutter in the edges of his vision.

Just like that, just like a twig holding together a dam, everything falls loose.

He remembers.

———————————————————

His parents are welcoming, at first. His mama jokes with the arcanine and crobat, Sulien and Asra, about the rain while his father adds kindling to the fire to give it extra warm.

Toby is a little shy, as he always is around strangers. Even more with big, strong strangers like these ones.

Vivi echoes all of his awe without the shyness, immediately bouncing around the strangers’ paws with question after question about their names and species and types and where they’re from. The tall one, a pangoro named Dismas, is clearly annoyed by her curiosity, but Asra and Sulien smile and answer patiently.

The storm rages on far longer than anyone expects, into the evening. Vivi has graduated from crawling around Sulien’s giant paws to to climbing over the arcanine’s fluffy back and mane. She’d scrambled her way up the fire type’s shoulders before their parents could stop her, and once there the arcanine had assured them she was fine. Toby had settled in at Sulien’s paws, listening to the adults talk.

The strangers tell them that they’re called Team Zenith, and they focus on rescue work.

“Is that how you got that scar on your face?” Vivi asks, sprawled stop Sulien’s fluffy head and peering down at him.

“Vivian!”  Mama scolds.

Sulien laughs. “It’s fine. No, this one was from a nasty fight.”

Vivi gasps. “A bad guy?!”

Sulien nods, solemn. “The worst.”

“Whoa.”

Toby echoes his sister, leaning back against the arcanine’s warm, fluffy chest. He loves his Mama and Papa, but there’s something really nice about a pelt so soft.

“Maybe I wanna be a Seeker when I grow up,” Toby muses.

“Oh! Me too! Me too!”

“You’ll both have to get a bit bigger first,” Mama teases, flicking her tail over to tickle Tobias’ side. He giggles and kicks her away.

Eventually, Mama excuses herself from the warmth of the fire to grab her mail for the following day. When the storm clears up, she’ll have a lot of deliveries to make. She brings them to the fire to organize by neighborhood, sorting them into piles.

Toby crawls into her lap, watching as she reads the name and location on each one before deciding which pile it belongs to. He tries to read them too and make it a race, but he’s a lot slower than her.

Conversation continues between the adults, interrupted only by Vivi’s occasional question or exclamation. Toby mostly listens, and reads, and sometimes puts a letter on the right pile when Mama points it out to him.

He perks up when they’re done with the regular mail and get to the guild notices. A lot of the papers are boring stuff that just go to the local guild outpost, but sometimes they have wanted posters that Mama has to pin up in town. Those are a little scary, but they’re kind of exciting, too.

Tobias skims the words he can see on the current paper, the sheet held a little too high over his head as Mama reads. Finally, she hands it over to him, pointing out where it needs to go. He lays it gently in place.

Mama picks up the next letter, and Toby feels it when she suddenly goes tense underneath him. Confused, he looks up at the paper she’s holding, seeing that it’s a wanted poster with pictures of outlaws on it.

Huh. Mama doesn’t usually get scared by wanted posters like Toby and Vivi sometimes do.

It’s taking way too long for her to hand it to him, so Toby tugs impatiently on his mom’s wrist. The paper is yanked down just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the pictures.

An arcanine with a scar. A crobat. A pangoro.

Mom yanks the letter away from him. He lets her, frowning up at her face in confusion.

“Mama, what—"

“Toby, go over to Papa.”

Toby hesitates, feeling like something is…wrong. Why was Team Zenith on the wanted poster? Toby thought those were only for bad Pokemon.

Mama doesn’t wait for him, sliding him off her lap and standing. She gathers the piles of letters with unusually sharp movements.

“Mama?”

“You’re fine, sweetie,” Mama says, neck dipping to brush her muzzle over his head. “I just don’t feel like working on those anymore tonight. I’ll get your help with them again later. Go over to your dad, okay?”

Her voice shakes.

Toby glances at Papa. He’s watching Mama now, smile gone.

Toby looks back at Mama. She’s watching Vivi, who is crawling all over Sulien and still chattering on about something.

Mama’s quiet. Like something’s wrong but she doesn’t want Toby and Vivi to know about it.

The arcanine smiles at Mama, apparently picking up on it, too. “Something wrong, ma’am?”

“No no. Just—Vivi, get off Mr. Sulien, all right?”

“Aww, why?” Vivi whines, little fingers tightening in his fur.

“Vivian!” Mama snaps.

Toby and Vivi both wince. Slowly, with a pout, Vivi slides down Sulien’s back and trudges over to Papa, leaning into his side. He wraps his tail around her.

“Toby, why don’t you come over here too?” Papa says, voice light. “It’s about time for bed.”

There’s something about his tone, though, that makes Tobias tense.

Toby doesn’t move. He doesn’t understand why that outlaw paper had Team Zenith on it, or why everyone suddenly got so quiet.

Mama is standing, not putting her papers away like she said she would. Like it’s important that Toby goes over to Papa before she does.

Papa is sitting up straighter than before, not letting Vivi move. He motions Toby closer.

It’s Asra who really makes Toby upset, though. The crobat suddenly looks sick to his stomach, gaze flicking between Sulien and Mama.

Sulien smiles. “You’re sure nothing is wrong?”

Thunder rumbles outside, long and low. Like the sky is growling.

Toby finally darts to his sister’s side, ducking under his papa’s tail and pressing close to his belly where it’s safe. He’s scared. He doesn’t know why he’s scared.

“You said you’re a mail mon, right?” Sulien asks politely.

His mama doesn’t answer.

“That includes notices to the guild, doesn’t it?”

Sulien stands up. He stretches, muscles rippling under striped fur.

“Show me that last notice you were sorting.”

Mama shakes her head. Toby doesn’t think he’s ever seen that look on her face. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Shame,” Sulien says, casual. “Neither did I. But it seems trouble has found us regardless.”

Papa’s tail curls tighter around them, pressing them close.

“We don’t have much,” Mama says, low. Fervent. “But you can have it. Just go. Or let us go. We’ll go.”

“I’m afraid that’s really not the problem here,” Sulien says. “The problem is that we need to get out of this mountain range without anyone knowing where we’re heading next.”

“We won’t say anything,” Mama says, quick. Desperate. She’s usually the one picking fights, not trying to compromise.

Toby’s stomach feels cold.

“S-Sulien,” Asra says, hushed. “Come on, they said they won’t say anything. We can make them leave and—"

Sulien sighs, cutting the crobat off. “I’d really like to believe that. Unfortunately, you know I’d rather not take any chances.”

He flexes his paw, claws extending in the firelight.

Tobias flinches.

Vivi whimpers.

A growl pours from Papa’s throat.

His mama’s wings spread, making her bigger. She looks angry. She looks terrified.

———————————————————

“You really didn’t come there looking for us,” Tobias whispers, staring at Dismas. The pangoro stares back, expressionless.

It wasn’t some kind of shady business. Or even a robbery. It wasn’t anything against his parents at all.

They were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. They extended their kindness to the wrong Pokemon.

———————————————————

“I’m afraid I’d rather play it safe,” Sulien says. He flicks his shredded ear.

Dismas launches himself forward. Toby doesn’t even see the move that sends Mama flying back into the cave wall with a crack.

“Mama!” Toby shrieks.

He and Vivi try to push past Papa’s tail, but he drags them back.

“Aria!” His papa yells.

Mama pushes herself up, blowing a wave of fire out in front of her to ward the pangoro off. She glances at them, eyes wild. “Run, Silas!”

Papa hesitates for only a second. Then he scoops Tobias and Vivi up in his arms and bolts towards the mouth of the cave.

But it’s storming! Mama said they can never fly when it’s storming! It’s too dangerous. There’s rain and lightning and wind and—

And Sulien is there, standing large and proud against the darkness.

Papa stops. Toby can hear Mama fighting with the pangoro behind them.

“They’re just kids,” his papa says, voice tight. “Let them go.”

Sulien’s eyes move down to Toby and Vivi. “They are. But eventually they’ll be adults. And that one—” he nods at Vivi, who bares her teeth and growls, even with tears in her eyes. “Has the look of a hero. No, they’re old enough to realize what happened here.”

Toby feels his papa’s heart racing against his back, skin hot and clammy all at once. Slowly, he’s put down beside Vivi.

“Papa?” Toby asks, shaky. He’s trying to sniff back tears, but he can hear his mama snarling and the FWOOSH and heat of fire and Sulien is looking at them like a stranger, like a villain in a story and—

“Toby. Take your sister and run.”

Papa’s voice is low. Almost too low to hear.

Toby blinks. “W-What?”

They aren’t allowed out in storms, and definitely not on their own.

Papa spares him a glance. He swallows. “Run. Don’t stop running until you’re safe. And take care of your sister.”

“Papa?” Vivi says.

“We love you both,” Papa whispers. His voice is higher than usual. Rough. “So much.”

Before Tobias can answer, Papa is using his tail to sweep the two of them towards the mouth of the cave. Toby stumbles, Vivi crying out at his side.

Then Papa is arcing over them with a roar that shakes Toby to his bones. He watches with wide eyes as Papa and Sulien tumble together in a snarling blur of orange.

Everything is chaos. Growling and crashing and fire and—

Vivi slams into him, hugging him desperately. He wraps his arms around her on instinct, claws bunching into the oversized red scarf she always wears like a little cape.

“Tobias!” His mother roars. He looks over at her, panicked. She’s panting, one of her wings hanging in a sickening way at her side as the pangoro recovers from a heavy hit. “Run!”

“Asra!” Sulien barks. “Grab them!”

Tobias spins, locking eyes with the crobat. He’s flapping in midair, looking just as scared as Tobias feels.

“Sulien, they’re—they’re just kids. Surely we don’t need to hurt them, right?”

The word ‘hurt’ jolts Toby into movement. He grabs his sister by the hand and yanks her towards the entrance, tears blurring his vision.

A flash of purple flies by and blocks the entrance, making them stumble back. The crobat flaps in place, brow furrowed as he glances between them and Sulien.

Toby grabs Vivi tighter and darts to the side, hoping to skirt around the crobat. The crobat swoops at them, barely missing them. It feels threatening, like he’s going to pick them up and carry them away, but—

——————————————————

“He wasn’t really trying, was he?” Tobias rasps. “He…he was so much faster than that. He wanted us to escape. But…”

——————————————————

For an instant, Toby thinks they’re going to make it. They duck under the crobat’s wings and—

A heavy weight—a thousand times heavier than Mama and Papa when they play fight with them—slams into Toby, pinning him on his back. It knocks the air out of him. He tries to gasp for air as he looks up at his attacker.

Sulien doesn’t look scared like Asra. He doesn’t look like he’s feeling anything, except mild irritation. Toby feels the arcanine’s claws dig into his throat, bruising in their force and cutting off his air as something wet leaks down his skin.

Toby tries to kick, but he can’t reach the arcanine’s chest. Vivi screams and grabs the arcanine’s paw, trying to pull it off of him.

Sulien grabs her in his mouth like she’s nothing more than a toy, throwing her aside. She slams into the cave wall with a cracking sound and lands hard on her stomach.

Tobias tries to turn his head, his sister’s name on his tongue, but pain sears through his neck as claws tear at his soft throat.

Sulien’s mouth opens, and Toby sees nothing but fangs and fire lunging at him as he squeezes his eyes shut.

There’s a roar and a gust of hot air, and then the weight is gone from him entirely. Mama slams the arcanine into the wall with a sound that echoes and sends stone raining down from the ceiling.

Toby gasps and coughs as he scrambles up, reaching for his neck. His palm comes away red and slick with blood. It tickles as it streaks down his chest.

Toby ignores it, still coughing as he stumbles to Vivi’s side. She’s trying to push herself up, but one of her hands is pressed to the back of her head and the other shakes and trembles.

“Lemme see,” Toby rasps, kneeling at her side. He helps her sit up, then peels away the hand on her head. His heart stops when he sees slick red on her palm.

Vivi whines, slumping into Toby’s shoulder. He pulls her close, looking around frantically.

Mama is wrestling with Sulien now. Papa has turned on the pangoro, cornering him in the back of the cave. Asra is still stalled in place, staring at them with wide yellow eyes.

“Tobias! Run!” Mama yells again.

Toby jolts, then staggers to his feet. He feels lightheaded, spots in his vision, but he knows he needs to move. Vivi is clinging to him weakly, but she can’t seem to get her feet under her even when he tries to pull her up.

Toby feels renewed panic lap at him. Usually when they get hurt, when they scrape a knee or pull a claw, they go to their parents. And Vivi is clearly hurt, stumbling and tilting as if she’s dizzy.

He doesn’t know how to fix this.

Tobias decides on a different course of action. He swings Vivi around and pulls her onto his back, hopping to secure her higher. He nearly falls from the weight throwing him off balance, but staggers towards the mouth of the cave all the same.

“Asra, get those kids or you’re next!” Sulien snarls.

There’s no protest this time. A blur of purple flashes out of the corner of Toby’s eye, swooping for him again. He ducks and runs faster, out of the cave.

The storm slams into him like a wall. The cold rain stings against his skin, whipping into his face like needles. He squints against it. Between the rain and wind and darkness, he can hardly see two feet in front of him.

Another snarl comes from the cave. Toby startles and takes off, stumbling over rocks and slipping in mud. Each time he does, Vivi whimpers, her face tucked away in the crook of his bloodied neck.

Tobias runs and runs through the darkness, sliding down steep inclines and through scraggly groups of trees. It’s a miracle he doesn’t run himself right off the cliffside, guided only by hazy memory and luck.

He feels like he runs forever.

His lungs burn. He can’t feel his legs. Vivi sits like a boulder tied to his back, deadweight, but he doesn’t dare slow down. His fingers feel locked into place by the cold.

He doesn’t stop until a deep mud puddle sucks his foot down. He falls hard onto his front, then lays gasping in the mud. Its icy cold burns, and eventually he summons the strength to push himself up and crawl out of the puddle he’d landed in.

He gently deposits Vivi onto the ground behind him.

She slumps over.

“Vivi?” Toby asks, panting.

Vivi lies motionless on the grass. Too quiet. Too still. She’s never that quiet and still, even when she’s asleep.

“Vivi?” Toby asks again, shaking her gently. She feels cold, but everything feels cold right now.

He turns her over, to find her eyes closed and her little brow furrowed. He pats her cheek. “Vivi? Vivi, c’mon. W-Wake up! We…we gotta go. We gotta hide. O-Or get help, or…”

Vivi doesn’t answer. Fresh panic blooms in Tobias’ chest, and hot tears flood his eyes. He can’t tell what’s rain and what’s tears.

He shakes her a little harder. Her head lolls.

“Vivi!” He shouts.

She doesn’t wake up. Is it—is it because she hit her head?

He turns her over in his lap, breath hitching when he sees the place she smacked the back of her head against the cave wall when Sulien threw her. The rain has been washing out the wound, but it still glistens with fresh blood. Tobias knows head wounds bleed a lot, especially in the mountains, but the scariest part is how the spot looks almost…dented. Just a bit.

Toby looks around desperately. He can’t see anyone in the darkness and rain, and he knows there aren’t many other Pokemon who live near their home, but—

But he’s so scared. He’s never been so scared in his entire life.

“Help!” Toby yells, voice hoarse. Sulien and Asra and Dismas might hear him, but…but his sister is hurt.

“Help!” He yells again, a hot wave of tears filling his eyes to streak down chilled cheeks. “Please!”

He yells and yells, but nobody answers.

Tobias suddenly remembers what Papa told them, a long time ago. That they should pray to Entei if they ever feel scared or unsafe. He protects kids like them! He’ll help. He has to.

“E-Entei, please help us. Please, I’m really scared and Vivi needs help a-and I don’t know what else to do.”

Toby waits again. The storm continues overhead, loud and cold and endless. Entei doesn’t appear on fiery paws to whisk them away. There’s no big, strong presence to shield them from the rain.

They’re on their own.

Toby sniffs hard, looking down at Vivi. He doesn’t know what to do. Did she lose too much blood? Or is something inside her hurt? What did Mama say that one time about bad injuries?

You…you need to stop the bleeding if you get hurt real bad. You need to put something on the injury.

Tobias doesn’t have supplies, but his eyes land on Vivi’s scarf, its red hue looking dull and drab in the darkness and rain. Vivi’s going to be so mad at him for getting blood on her favorite scarf, but—but this is more important.

Toby unknots the scarf with shaking hands, then presses the soaking wet fabric against the wound. He expects Vivi to whine or cry out, since it has to hurt.

She doesn’t move. She still hasn’t moved.

Thunder rumbles again. The rain comes down in sheets, painful and freezing against his nearly-numb skin. Toby needs to find shelter soon. Sitting out in the rain for too long is dangerous for any fire type, but especially kids. Especially in the mountains.

Toby starts to drag Vivi onto his back again, when something catches his eye.

The tip of her short tail.

Dark.

Tobias drops her. He hates himself for it immediately, but he does. He hovers over her—her body—her, and shivers, and stares.

No. No no no.

B-But—but maybe she’s still okay? Maybe she’s just hurt, really bad, but if he gets her help, then…

Tobias presses the side of his head to Vivi’s chest.

He waits. And waits. Two rolls of thunder. Three. The rain doesn’t let up.

No breath. No heartbeat.

Toby whimpers. Then he gathers air into his lungs and wails. He thought that he knew what it was like, to be upset. To be scared. To be in pain. He remembers crying to Mama and Papa really hard that one time he pulled a claw.

This is something else. His voice rips out of him like it’s alive, like he has no control over it. He drapes himself over Vivi, crying, pleading for her to come back. He doesn’t know how long.

She doesn’t answer.

Tobias doesn’t remember getting up. He doesn’t remember leaving Vivi. He doesn’t remember wandering off with his sister’s scarf clenched tight in his fingers.

He does remember stepping just a bit too close to a cliffside that was loosened by the rain. Remembers how it gave out from underneath him. Remembers how he didn’t even yell, falling and falling and then—

Darkness.

Next time he woke up, he was bandaged and warm, tucked into a soft bed. The nice Pokemon who found him half-buried under rubble had taken him to the village doctor. Tobias had asked the doctor where his sister was, or his parents, and he knew right away what the old ‘mon’s tight smile and evasive answers meant.

His family was gone.

——————————————————

A painful squeeze of Tobias’ hand catches his attention. What is that? Did Sulien come back for him? No, he’s safe at the doctor’s house, he—

He stares at the riolu in front of him, uncomprehending. There’s not a riolu at the doctor’s, and certainly not in his cave.

Her ruby eyes are glassy with tears, and she’s holding his hand. Something about her makes him feel safe.

She’s saying something, but Tobias can’t hear her, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He can read her lips, though, as she repeats one word to him, over and over.

Breathe.

Tobias tries to listen, taking a shaky breath of air. Then another, and another. The riolu doesn’t look away, smiling encouragingly and breathing with him.

Slowly, Tobias feels his body settle into the room around him. It’s warmer here than in the rain, but colder than the doctor’s house. Darker, lit a muted green. His ears feel funny. His free hand is pulling at his—at Vivi’s scarf, and his neck burns as if the marks left there haven’t long since scarred over. There’s a quagsire and malamar watching him with sympathetic expressions, and—

Tobias freezes when he sees the pangoro. Dismas. Dismas is here, he’s going to hurt Mama and Papa and Vivi and the riolu and—

“Tobias!” The riolu places both paws on either side of his face, turning him away from the pangoro until all he can see is her. “Ignore him. Keep breathing with me, okay?”

Tobias doesn’t think he can, but he nods anyways and tries to follow the riolu’s exaggerated breaths. In. Out. Again.

Tobias doesn’t know when the riolu in front of him turns into someone he knows, but suddenly his brain remembers that she has a name.

Nia.

He latches onto her paws, taking stock of himself.

His eyes sting, as if he was crying. He’s still shaking, but his breathing is steadier. The grief and terror in his chest feels fresh, painful as the day he lost his family.

Tobias must make a pitiful sound, because Nia shushes him gently, murmuring, “Hey, stay here with me, okay? You back?”

Tobias nods, trying to stay in the present. He focuses on the cool metal underfoot. Nia’s soft paws on his cheeks. The sight of her eyes, red cooled to a deep brown in the green light. The quiet creak of the metal room around them.

He’s here. He’s in Kaleido Bay, with Nia. And he finally has the answer he has wanted all these years. He finally knows why his family was ripped away from him.

Chance.

Has Tobias wasted the last eight years of his life, looking for this? For a simple, nonsensical answer that changes nothing? An answer that was hidden away inside his own head?

If Sulien gets captured by other Seekers like Dismas had, then…what is Tobias’ goal? Without answers to find and the outlaws to track down, what does he have to strive towards?

What does he even have to live for?

“We really messed you up, huh?” Dismas says. The pangoro doesn’t sound remorseful. If anything, he says it like a joke, lighthearted and casual.

Nia snaps her teeth at him. “Shut up!”

Tobias looks at Dismas again. He tries to speak, then has to clear his throat to get the words to come. “You…don’t even care, do you? About what you did?”

Dismas snorts. “Your family wasn’t the first ‘mon we had to take out, kid. I can’t afford to get all weepy about it. I’m not Asra.”

“The crobat?” Nia murmurs. “Wasn’t he your partner?”

“A coward is what he was. Always trying to avoid getting his claws dirty. I bet that softhearted idiot didn’t even look for you brats after Sulien told him to. I was surprised Sulien let him run off at all, at least with his skull intact.”

Nia glances at Tobias before saying, “Asra’s, um…dead. He died in a rockslide.”

Dismas barks a laugh. “Ah, there it is! Looks like Sulien found him after all.”

Their faces must ask the question for them.

“Asra was spineless, but he was fast. He wouldn’t have gotten taken out by a rock slide. Not a natural one, at least.”

Nia looks vaguely sick. “You mean..?”

“Sulien always hated how much of a softie Asra was. Trying to run and start a new life with so much blood on his fangs? When he knew all of our history? Nah. He was a danger Sulien couldn’t risk keeping alive. It was only a matter of time for him.”

“And you?” Nia challenges. “Is Sulien the reason you got caught?”

Dismas laughs again. “No, we parted ways a while ago. I had enough of his brilliant ideas and decided to strike out on my own.”

“Lot of good that did you,” Nia mutters.

“You mean this place?” Dismas asks, making a vague gesture around the room with one restrained paw. “I needed somewhere to crash for a while. Time to figure out where I’m going next and all that. But now that you mention it, I am getting sick of the slop they serve here as food.”

Dismas looks past them, towards the malamar standing guard at the door. “Hey, beak face!”

The malamar straightens up, tentacles flaring. “Quiet down, D22.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be quick.” Dismas grins, toothy and goading. “Just thought you’d want to know that your little disable treatments haven’t been lasting as long as you wanted ‘em to.”

He lifts both paws as high as he can, curling them into fists. One paw bursts into flames, bright enough to be painful to Tobias’ eyes in the dim light. The other fist glints in the fire’s light, coated in ice.

Tobias feels a familiar sense of dread pool in his gut.

“Put your attacks away!” the malamar shouts, marching closer. The quagsire backs up a step, falling into a defensive stance.

“Aw, but I’ve been having a lot of fun in here with my little science experiments,” Dismas chuckles, opening his fists and dismissing the elemental energy. “You do know what happens when you heat and cool chains so frequently, right?”

The pangoro pulls his arms in, straining them against the metal chains. Tobias can hear them creak and groan for just a second before—

The chains snap like a cheap toy.

Tobias scrambles backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. Nia moves with him.

Dismas isn’t the fastest ‘mon, but he’s still faster than the quagsire beside him. Before the water type can shoot off a move, the pangoro spins to punch her in the gut, the bright glint of metal following in his wake.

Bullet punch.

The quagsire resists steel type moves, but she still goes skidding back, slamming into the metal wall with a loud bang. Tobias flinches, seeing Vivi, hearing rain—

The malamar rushes past them, pushing Nia and Tobias back with one tentacle and attacking Dismas with the other. Dismas catches the move in a giant paw, grinning, shackles and broken chains dangling from his wrists.

The pangoro turns, swinging the malamar with him, and slams him into the floor, leaving a dent in the metal.

“Miro!” the quagsire calls, getting back to her feet. “Send out an alert!”

Right! The malamar’s a psychic-type. They must have some kind of telepathy system set up here to communicate.

Except the malamar doesn’t answer, rolling to dodge a heavy fist. He lunges into a peck that Dismas barely wards off with his legs and neck still shackled. The malamar looks almost frenzied, going after the pangoro with a vicious aggression. It’s strange, and so unsettling a strategy to see from a psychic type that Tobias realizes with a sinking heart what Dismas was doing earlier.

Taunt.

All the malamar can do is attack. And that is a terrible thing for a Pokemon who likely relies on stat changes and status moves to fight.

It’s clear from the easy way that Dismas handles the psychic type. With a single throat chop that leaves the malamar gasping, Tobias can see the end coming. Dismas sweeps his arm back, dark type energy leaving streaks like black lightning in its wake, then stabs a shadow claw through the malamar’s gut.

Nia makes a shrill sound, stumbling back with her paws clamped over her muzzle. Tobias just watches with a sick sense of deja vu.

Dismas lets the energy dissipate.

The malamar drops and lies still.

Tobias has to believe he’s alive, despite the odds. He can’t watch this monster kill another Pokemon right in front of him.

Dismas takes advantage of the moment of stunned silence. He lifts massive paws to grab either side of the shackle around his neck, snapping it open like a chestnut to drop at his paws. He sighs, satisfied, and rolls his neck with a crack that makes both Nia and Tobias wince.

The quagsire jumps into action, rushing at the pangoro. Her cheeks puff up with a water gun.

Dismas ducks under the first jet, fists flashing with fire before he punches right through the two chains holding his legs in place. Those, too, break with little resistance, likely weakened beforehand for this chance at escape.

The quagsire is slower than Dismas, but she fights strategically, keeping her distance when possible to shoot off a water pulse or mud shot. When she sees an opening, she moves in closer for an aqua tail or slam attack.

Tobias wants to help, afraid of what will happen if and when the quagsire goes down, but…Tobias knows what it’s like, trying to fight in close quarters with a partner you’re unused to. It can cause more problems than staying out of the fight entirely. They’d likely just get in the way.

Tobias glances at the crank to the door over his shoulder, wondering if they could open it themselves, but it’s nearly as tall as them. There’s no way they could get enough leverage.

Before Tobias can think of anything else, the quagsire is slammed down with enough force to dent the metal floor. She’s still fighting, landing a powerful drain punch on the pangoro that actually makes him grunt in pain, but Tobias gets the feeling that she isn’t going all-out. Whether that’s because she can’t use moves like surf or earthquake in this delicate prison cell without risking collateral damage or because she’s afraid of hurting Nia, Tobias, and the malamar, it’s clear to Tobias that she’s holding back.

She still puts up an impressive fight, but it only takes a few more powerful, unrestrained blows from Dismas before the quagsire thuds to the metal floor and stays there, out cold.

And with that, everything falls quiet. All Tobias can hear is the roar of his heartbeat in his ears. He stares at the pangoro, fear building in his gut.

Not again. He can’t do this again.

Nia steps in front of him, paws raised in a fighting stance. She looks confident, if you aren’t close enough to see the way she’s trembling.

Dismas turns to the two of them, huffing a laugh when he sees Nia’s stance. “What, you squirts wanna fight? You could just let me walk out, you know.”

Nia glances back at Tobias, as if asking what he wants to do. Tobias stares past her, unable to answer. He knows he’s shaking.

Tobias wanted this, not so long ago. He wanted the chance to take down the outlaws that killed his family. But now, trapped in here with Dismas, knowing he and Nia’s lives are on the line if they try to fight? Knowing what the pangoro can and will do, without a second thought?

Tobias is afraid. He wants to run. Hide. Let Dismas go without a fight.

But he can’t.

He can’t risk Dismas going free. He can’t risk the pangoro doing more harm to anyone else.

Tobias forces himself to breathe. Forces himself to step forward on stiff, shaky legs to stand beside Nia. He crouches into his own battle stance, trying to summon his fire.

Dismas laughs. “I’m impressed! Seeing as you just about wet yourself earlier, I thought you’d turn tail at the first sign of trouble.”

The pangoro strolls away from them, towards the far wall of the room. His broken chains drag on the metal floor with every step. He stops in front of the nearest of the tall, slim windows.

“If you wanna play hero…”

Dismas flings out a paw, slamming it into the window with a heart-stopping crack. It’s the way he’s holding his fingers, flat in a chopping motion, that tips Tobias off to what he just did.

The reflect and light screen cast over the glass, the only thing reinforcing it, stand no chance against a brick break attack. The barriers flicker, shimmering outward from the hit before dissipating entirely.

The unprotected glass cracks, splintering like a fault line. Right where Dismas’ fist hit, frothy water bursts in, spilling across the floor in an endless, powerful jet of water. In a room like this, sealed tight, it’s only a matter of time before it floods the space completely. It’d be a death trap for most Pokemon, but especially for Tobias.

Dismas grins as he turns back to them, toothy and ruthless. “Then let’s play.”