#but like this mood switch shit? easy as fuck to avoid

[elytrafemme]

ok no but tell me why this mental illness stuff is starting to feel fake as fuck rn like... tell me WHY i was like decently normal around my family this whole trip and now the second i’m home i’m crying like GIRL. i mean like i guess i did do this yesterday and i wasn’t totally “normal” but i was like generally really happy... is mental illness just a state of mind for me i seriously do not know what is going on!!!

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim BBU AU #1: 100913

Kane & Jim AUs Masterlist / Next

content: bbu, pet whump, shock collar, broken dish trope

welcome to the Kane & Jim BBU AU! if you don't know what BBU is: in short, it's a shared pet whump universe a bunch of whump authors write in. more info here. as i feel it necessary to state up front to avoid confusion, everyone in this AU is human, no vampires.

@bbu-on-the-side BBU Community Days #3: Discipline

-

913 was a good enough pet.

He wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but he was good at most of what he needed to do, his tasks. Cleaning wasn't hard. Neither was laundry, or dishes, or caring for plants.

Cooking was especially easy, that was 913's specialty. Not only that, but he enjoyed it, too. He didn't get to enjoy a lot of things at this place. Given it was his specialty, they would probably advertise him for that. Then he could cook every day for his owner and not have to worry about anything else.

However, while the chores came easy to him, the rest didn't. The pet stuff, the things everyone had to learn no matter what kind of pet they were. The positions, and how to talk all polite, that kind of shit. The respect crap, that was where he always messed up, and that was where he got his punishments. He wasn't trying to fuck up, it was just a lot to remember at once. He could never be a platonic.

913 rubbed at his collar. He hoped his owner would get him one without shocks. Even when it wasn't activated, the prongs dug into his neck all the time, and he hated it. Made him antsy.

But he didn't have time to worry about that right now. He grabbed his bucket to take to the other side of the room and continue his mopping.

"100913," Handler Schroeder called from behind as he stepped inside. 913 startled, dropping the water-filled bucket.

Fuck.

Handler Schroeder sighed, obviously irritated, which only made everything worse.

"I'm sorry, sir," 913 mumbled as the water spread over the floor. "Uh, you snuck up on me, so I just-"

913 cut himself off with a shriek as his collar activated, white-hot electricity arcing right into the side of his neck and setting his nerves alight. He fell to his knees, soaking his pants in the soapy water.

"Is that what you're going to do with your owner?" Handler Schroeder accused. "You mess up and blame it on them? Unbelievable. If that's the case, they'll return you right back here for refurbishing, you know. Maybe I should switch your program and make you a guard dog instead."

"I'm sorry, sir," 913 repeated, quieter this time, voice choked up with tears. His eyes bored down into the floor, too afraid to steal a glance at his handler. "Please- please- let me know how I can fix it. I wanna be better. Sir."

Handler Schroeder stomped over and grabbed him by the hair, rough fingers closing in his curls and yanking, forcing him to look up. "I will."

-

It had been a month since 913 got bought, and he was okay.

Master de Sang was miles better than the facility, it wasn't even close. Things were fine here. 913 had his own room, and he spent most of his time looking after the estate. Master liked the meals he cooked, the very thing he'd bought him for. It was fine.

It wasn't like they told him it would be, though. Master wasn't the loving owner he'd been promised. Master was strict. Master had a temper.

He was still better, far better than the handlers. He wasn't always bad. When he was in a good mood, Master could even be nice to be around, better than being alone. Master would play cards with him, or let him watch TV with him. 913 loved the TV, giving him a view into what a person's life was like.

But Master never replaced his collar, and the prongs still dug into his neck every second of every hour of every day, even though Master didn't use the shocks. Yet.

And when Master was irritated, which was almost all of the time, 913 couldn't help but get nervous.

Today was a good day so far, at least. He stole a moment to stand in front of the kitchen window, to feel the sun on his skin. He couldn't remember what it was like to be outside, but he knows he must have been outside at some point. Before. He wonders if the sun feels different when it's not filtered through the glass.

913 let himself have just a moment to bask in its warmth before he got back to cleaning up lunch, the water running over his wrist having no effect on the barcode and number permanently etched into his skin.

As he washed the dishes, he couldn't help but wince as he heard Master stomping around upstairs. He only did that when he was upset, and when he was upset...

He tried to shake it off. Master was just on the phone. That was all.

Master came downstairs just as 913 was finishing drying everything. "Welcome back, Master!" he said, chipper and friendly despite the dread building itself inside him.

Master just scowled at him, as though the greeting had made everything worse. 913 wanted to pull his hair out and scream. He wished he'd gotten a little training in what the platonics do, complex conversations with their owners besides the basic respect and obedience. Maybe he could help Master if he did. But better a domestic than either of the other two.

"Hi," Master said flatly. He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers against it restlessly.

"Can I get you anything?" 913 asked.

"We just had lunch," Master pointed out. He wasn't looking at 913, but he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He was staring off into space like he always did when he had family troubles.

He remembered talking to one of the platonics once back in training, 418512. 512 was talking about how they were trained to sometimes be a little more casual, something that might sometimes be interpreted as disrespect. How if they stayed fully respectful all the time, it could come off as cold. Maybe that was why Master was irritated with him.

913 was pretty sure he knew what Master was upset about. It was a risk, but he decided to go for it. He made his voice as soft and sympathetic as he could.

"Is it your father, Master?" he asked quietly.

The slap rang so hard across 913's face that his ears rang. He dropped the mug he was holding, the ceramic shattering against the floor.

Master grabbed 913 by the chin as pain bloomed over his cheek. "Don't you fucking talk about my father. Don't even mention him. Got it?"

"Yes, Master," 913 squeaked, trembling in his grip.

Master threw him to the floor over the jagged pieces. "Clean this up."

He stayed down, not moving from where he was tossed even as the edges cut into his palms. "Yes, Master."

913 stayed completely still until Master left in a huff. Once he could hear the sound of his footsteps fade away, he began picking shards out of his skin, failing not to cry.

-

expect two more of these :)

taglist in reblog

[the-ikran-man]

May 30th - Tradition/Whump

WARNING:

Character Death!

Lot of curse words.

Lot of hurt, barely any comfort.

ANGST

-- --- --

Set before Dragon and Fellow actually become recoms cause Fellow's human death is just very good angst. Still counts, yeah?

Also we get to throw Parker, another one of our recoms into it, so yeah, it's that good stuff.

-- --- --

It was normal for Dragon and Fellow to swap dog tags if one of them was going on a mission or to an area without the other, which happened sometimes.

It was a tradition for them. By switching dog tags, the person who was leaving was saying 'You have my tags, so I'll come home alive to get them back.'

And while not swapping tags didn't stop the other from going, it sure voiced your displeasure about it.

Honestly if it were up to Fellow, he wouldn't go, bulldozer duty wasn't great. He'd much rather stay in bed with Dragon unless they had to get up to do stuff around base. And Dragon refusing to swap his tags with him the week before sure proved that he also didn't want Fellow to go either.

And maybe Fellow did him just a little dirty to make sure he walked out of base with those tags on.

See, Dragon slept like the dead after he and Fellow had a little fun in the sheets. He could get stabbed and he likely wouldn't wake up.

It was bit mean to use it as a way to get what he wanted, but technically it was fun for both parties and sure, Dragon would probably yell at him about it when he got back, but small price to pay to keep a tradition.

---

It's easy enough to unclasp the tags from around his sleeping partner's neck, Fellow planting a light kiss on the sleeping solider's temple before he gets up, securing the dog tags around his neck and setting his own down nearby where Dragon would see them whenever he awoke in the morning.

Usually he'd stay, but he was going to try to avoid the smaller's wrath for as long as he could, as his beloved was a bit of a loose canon when he wasn't in a good mood.

Fellow was just lucky he had what it took to handle him.

---

Dragon is aware that the usual weight in his bed is gone when he wakes up in the late afternoon hours. He groans, pushing himself up, fully expecting to find Fellow chilling in the corner somewhere waiting on him.

He is not.

"God, you fuckward, where'd you go?" Dragon mutters to himself, as he forces himself out of bed to attempt to get ready for whatever a day on Pandora decided to throw at him.

He's reaching to adjust his tags when he realizes they're gone. He searches his bed for them, then the whole room. Until he finds Fellow's tags instead, sitting there where his partner left them, almost mocking him in a way.

Fellow had stolen his dog tags and booked it. Probably in the middle of the night. And Dragon had slept through it. Like an idiot.

"I'm gonna kill him," Dragon growls under his breath, snatching up Fellow's tags and heading out. The second he got back from bulldozer duty, Dragon was going to lay into him. How dare he sneak off after stealing his stuff, the fucking weasel! Just he wait!

He doesn't even think that he might not get the chance.

---

"So far we've counted 7 bodies, but there could be more, people were changing shifts when it happened."

We found another one over here!"

"Shit. Who is it?"

"We weren't sure, but they've got their dog tags, but it's hard to make out the name."

A sort of hush falls over the room as everyone waits with baited breath to learn about another name, another team member to add to their list of dead.

Dragon feels sick, clutching Fellow's tags as he stands there, anxiousness building.

The leader of the team on screen reaches for the tags that are passed over by the other who's crouched by a badly burned body.

Dragon immediately curses the clear quality of the body cam recording everything. Because he knows those tags.

He doesn't need to hear his own name read off, or the curse the leader lets out as the realization dawns on him as well.

He doesn't even realized someone's come over to his side, until he's being pulled into a chest, held tight in an arm, a voice whispering, "Don't look anymore."

Parker had been watching Dragon ever since they'd started counting bodies. All of them in the room had been exposed to large levels of death at some point, but Dragon was pretty young, and death was harder on him than it was on the rest of them.

And being faced with the death of someone you cared about...

Parker had grabbed him and tried to block some of it out.

Dragon is not a touch person, he liked human contact less than the normal amount, but right now, he really didn't want anyone touching him. Not when his world was currently spiraling head first into the ground with enough force to kill a man.

He tries to pull away, but is not allowed to, in fact, Parker refused to let him go, her other arm coming around to hold onto him against herself.

Like he wasn't a solider, and instead a frightened child.

He's not a child, even if he's young. He'd seen death before, and on Pandora, the risk of it was even higher than back on Earth. They weren't invincible out here, death was an occupational hazard, he wouldn't cry about it, Fellow probably wouldn't have, he knew what he was getting into when he left, he-

Dragon hears a hiccup, and it takes a second or two for it to sink it that he's the one who did it.

Park holds him a little tighter, leaning over him slightly, muffling the wrecked sobs that start to eventually come out of Dragon as he breaks, as it all really hits him.

Fellow is gone.

It was like a sick fucking joke. He'd been here one day and now he wasn't, just like that.

This wasn't how it was suppose to go. He was suppose to come back. That what taking Dragon's tags had meant, that he try his hardest to come back, come hell or high water.

Parker mutters something into his hair, but Dragon can't hear her, his fingers curling so tight around Fellow's tags that his knuckles turn white.

Pandora was a right cruel place.

Inspired by this gif ^

Not gonna lie, we were gonna go the fist bump route, but as we were looking at this gif yesterday, the recom in the back came into focus like a light-bulb going off, and we noticed the dogs tags and things just sort of plummeted into place.

@recom-week

[cockpunchlore]

𝒸𝓊𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝒸

ao3

It was 2 in the morning when Colson showed up at Pete’s door. His eyes were bloodshot, hair in clumps of blonde, soaked from the endless rain outside. Trembling hands balled into tight fists and disappeared inside the pockets of his leather jacket when the door clicked open.

Then there was Pete. He stood in his sweatpants, one hand leaning over the doorframe, his expression shifting into one of concern as he scanned his eyes across his best friend’s face. He was met with sudden guilt at his earlier bout of annoyance at having to leave his bed and put on pants and he hoped Colson didn't notice his nails dig into his palms when he spoke.

“come in.”, He cracked the door open a little wider and stepped to the side to invite the blonde inside.

“I uh- the place is fucked but I got the heat on-” Pete spoke as he led them through the hallway.

“-and you can look through my shit in here for a change of clothes, I doubt you'll find anything in leather and latex but hey at least they aren't wet- I've just got Rick and Morty on the background but we can switch to music if you wanted- and I just got some new blunt wraps that we could try out- oh and did you want coffee?”

The two came to a halt at the kitchen bench and the slightest smile tugged at Colson’s lips, in awe at how quickly this man was able to change his mood with just a few words.

“Thanks”, he cringed at the way his voice croaked under the syllables and attempted to clear his throat.

He let his eyes leave the floor and travel up to meet Pete's gaze, pausing over the exposed waistband of his boxers a little longer than he’d like to admit before settling on the hazel orbs.

“And-uh yes please, for the coffee.”

“Black”, he added.

“Iced, I know”, Pete finished his eyeroll gaining a chuckle from Colson.

“My bad”

It had always been so easy with Pete. not that he expected it to be like that with everyone else, but it was times like these that he was especially grateful for this man’s existence and he doubted that any words he could string together to tell him so would ever suffice. He shook his head as fought his thoughts from lingering over how he felt about the younger man. Muttering something about a shower, Colson disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

Colson was wearing a pair of Pete’s purple Spongebob sweats when he emerged from the shower, hair leaving a trail of fading droplets into the carpet as he made his way through the hallway.

His footsteps slowed to a stop once his eyes landed on Pete’s frame lit up only by the dim blues of the television which was now playing some true crime show. Dateline, he remembered Pete had told him, and he smiled to himself recalling that conversation.

Pete’s eyes stayed glued to the screen, and Colson, not wanting to break him from his trance, leaned against the wall and admired the younger man. He sat with his head leaned back, one leg pulled up to his chest while the other lay over the coffee table. A hand reached back to pull at the brown curls at the nape of his neck and Colson’s heart rate climbed as he watched.

He could already picture the expression written on Pete’s face, eyebrows knitted together in concentration, chewing on the inside of his cheek, completely lost to this world. His breath hitched as he let his thoughts about the boy drift into less purer ones.

He had already thought it through, sure the repercussions were merely an afterthought, but if there ever came the time to kiss the brunette he wouldn't hesitate. In fact, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined doing a lot more than that.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when his feelings for him turned from platonic to sexual but now that they had he didn't know how to act around his best friend anymore. That was the honest reason why he had avoided seeing Pete for as long as he had and he hated the fact that a drug-filled bender was what had broken that spell.

Colson snapped back to reality in an instance when the brunette turned his head to meet his gaze.

“You're back”, Pete spoke through a smile.

“Hi”, Colson couldn't help but do the same.

Pete made it a point, patting the spot next to him using both hands before turning his gaze back to the screen in front. Colson clumsily made his way back to him narrowly avoiding the piles of discarded clothes before reaching the couch.

“My Spongebob looks good on you”

“Your wh- oh”, it took him a second to process the way he had phrased his compliment and he could only laugh in response.

“Good enough for me to keep?”, he threw half-heartedly curious as for the boy's reaction.

“mhmm”, He replied with a genuine certainty that it made Colson's heart do that flippy-over thing that Pete's words apparently now did do him.

Colson shuffled the rest of the way over to the space next to Pete’s before sinking onto the soft cushions below. Pete readjusted in his chair before leaning his head into the crook of Colson’s shoulder.

“You know you don't have to say anything if you don't want to”. gentle words lingered their warm breath against the nape of Colson's neck.

“I know”

He ignored the way his chest clenched as his friend passed him an assuring smile when he didn't elaborate. Instead, he let his head drop to cradle into the younger man’s touch and let his eyes land on the screen where the host's demeanor sounded a tad too cheery to be describing a murder scene.

Not removing his eyes from the TV, Colson moved his arm back to wrap around the younger man and bit back a smile as he felt Pete shift closer and sink into his touch.

[jin0]

Fucking The Silence Out Of You [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter and you get in a fight, he said something insensitive and regrets it. You being you, you walk off and ignore him for a while. Peter cannot handle not having you around, and sometimes (not every time) he'll get desperate enough to fuck the silence out of you.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : 18+ Only, Minors DNI, smut, manhandling, breaking in (peter's on some illegal shit), angst, shower sex, kinda dub-con if you squint, dom!peter, kinda sub!reader, unhinged/desperate!peter, groveling i guess ???, titty worshipping, cum play, fingering, kinda angry sex/punishment sex

A/N : and im back at it again with a weird mix of angst and smut and a little fluff here and there i guess ?? yeah, hope y'all enjoy this one

(ps : thanks so much to the anon who suggested this, really you're a little genius !!!)

_________________________________________

You and Peter, the Sun and the Moon in whichever order your chose and depending entirely on your moods and the way the other reacted to it. You two were complementary to each other, necessary to have one if you wanted to understand the other. You were two pieces of the same soul, suffering and loving together. Separating you was both useless and painful, practically impossible to do.

But sometimes, the best thing to do is to separate for a while to give each other time. And Peter, was never good with that. He searched for you every time you left him, his body instantly feeling your absence. So when you were the one to voluntarily stay away, it was obvious that he'd come knocking on your door. Knocking until you let him in, or he let himself in.

~

When you got to meet Peter for the first time, you couldn’t help but think that this dude was absolutely fucking crazy. You were what people would call a demi-god, born of two human parents but an ancestral gene avoided by at least five generations before falling on your tiny baby shoulders. You’d grown with the usual powers, super strength, speed that could rival a sports car, you toped it off with the agility of a godly Olympic gymnast and other attributes that never ceased to amaze the people.

Your boyfriend was this first amazed, proving you how cool you were from the day he met you. You remembered how after helping Spiderman save the city, you’d try to fly away but the man followed you closely. When you finally managed to get back to your apartment safety, you turned around to find him looking you up and down frantically. He had someone like him, finally.

The rest was history but you’d never stop smiling at the memory of him rushing to you and inspecting your hands to see what device you used to fight. When you’d told him you could do that without a device, he stood in silence for a few minutes before exploding in laughter. He tried to figure out a way to scientifically explain you but struggled, which made you laugh harder. You should’ve been worried, trying to get rid of him after erasing him memories of you. Instead, you felt comfortable around this random stranger who ended up taking his mask pretty quickly after.

It was when you shook his hand, staring into his big brown eyes while he stared into yours, that you figured it out. You were in love for this man. And he was in live for you too. You both loved each other so much that for a long while, he friendship went as smoothly as anything could ever go and it was easy to switch to a romantic relationship. It went just as smoothly, conversation and love guiding the both of you with any issue.

It was good, so good, you felt like it would go along forever. And with how long it did, it was a good beginning. But things weren’t meant to always go perfectly right ? They were never meant to go on forever without a few stones standing in the way.

~

“Eh ! Eh, don’t walk away from me ! I’m not done taking to you !”

This was more than a few stones. This was a whole bolder, one that had started with you. You didn’t be care for now though, you didn’t care about much, too angry to care.

You kept walking, fast and as far as possible from him. You were fast, really fast and your mood was making it worst. You could hear him call you and try to grab your wrist each time he got close enough to feel the burning rage that warmed your body. You might’ve been a little more than simply angry, rightfully so.

Stomping forward, you ignored the curious looks and whispers that followed. Spiderman himself was chasing you, not swinging but walking and apologizing to everyone he bumped into by mistake. He saw his apartment building come into view and decided to use of his capacities to catch you by surprise.

You were still stomping when you entered his apartment building. Climbing the stairs to reach his apartment, you felt his missing presence but didn’t think anything of it. When you did it was a problem anyways. You barely opened the door that you were pulled inside and pinned against it when it closed.

“What the fuck is your problem ?!” Snarled the masked spider, staring straight at you with visible anger.

You narrowed your eyes in defiance and pushed him away from you. You were about to leave when he pulled you back by the wrists.

“You’re not walking away from me again. I fucking swear, I’ll web you to the fucking wall if I have to.”

“Oh whoa, lucky me ! It’ll be my second time tonight. Give me a third and I’ll genuinely start thinking that you see me as the enemy more than your partner.” You spat back, smiling condescendingly.

You try to step away from him, pushing him as gently as you could while being this angry, but he blocks you again, his hold on your forearms tightening into a practically painful grip. You inhale a sharp breath, feeling the anger get dangerously close to rage. You could get him off of you, that you definitely could and it wouldn’t be the first time you did. You were strong enough to be his partner after all, the thing is, you refused to hurt him, even if you did want to step on his foot right now. He was being difficult and that was tickling that petty part of you.

“Peter, get your hands off of me before I make you get off.” You threatened, your voice deep and commanding. That did catch him off guard, only showing it briefly before switching to his own petty side.

“So you’re threatening me now ? What’s it gonna be next, tackling me to the fucking floor ? Since you can’t fucking control yourself.”

“I’m the one who can’t control myself ?!" You exclaimed, anger rising at his comment. "You’re a fucking dick Peter ! You’re the one who webbed me to a fucking car ! What the fuck is this ?! Who the fuck do you think I am ?! Your fucking child ?!”

“Well you fucking behave like one !” He let go of you to swing his arms in the air which gave you a chance to step away and turn back to your things. You weren’t going to stay here but a part of you wanted to give you both the chance to actually talk instead of simply just fighting until you were to tired to keep going and would apologize out of exhaustion.

“Oh ? I act like a child ? How do I fucking act like a child Peter ?! Tell me how I behave like a fucking toddler ?!”

You’d let go of your things as soon as he compared you to an infant. The last thing you wanted was to be compared to a child when you were a grown woman capable of protecting and taking care of herself. Also, you wouldn’t take it from the man refusing the sleep if you weren’t around.

The moment you stepped up to him, walking right into his personal space and defying his judgment, he couldn’t help but feel the tingles that went from his heart straight to his bulge. He had always loved that feisty part of you and it did things to his self control that would have anyone hunched over trying to hide their arousal but failing miserably. You brought out the worst kinds of sexual desires when you were angry and he often made it worst by laughing at you, trying to keep himself from kissing your breath away. Right now was one of those situations but with a twist, he was angry too and wouldn’t let his fucking horny side ruin his point.

“You want me to tell you how you act like a fucking child ? Look at how you’re behaving right now Bunny. You’re gonna look at me in the eyes and tell me you’re not being a fucking spoiled brat ?” He chuckled in your face, which had you fuming.

You glared at him, backing away from him before you slapped him across that beautiful face of his.

“You’re calling me a fucking spoiled brat because I saved you from getting run over by a fucking train ? That’s what I’m understanding ?”

“Saving me ? You call jumping in front a moving train saving me ?” He queried, looking at you with fake curiosity.

“Are you really going to ignore the fact that I got us both out of the way ? You’re angry to the point of ignoring the main part of this stupid fight ?” You were slowly getting back to your previous state of anger, your voice getting louder.

“You see ?! You think this is stupid, you’re being childish and ignoring the fact that you could’ve got yourself fucking killed !” He responded, pointing his finger at you. You sigh, rubbing your face in desperation, this was going to get long.

“So if I’m understanding your logic correctly, you wanted me to let you get hit by a fucking train because I could get hurt ?! Are you fucking serious ?! You want me to avoid danger as if the whole point of being a vigilante wasn’t the possibility of danger to protect others ? And you blame me for putting my life in a possible danger when you do it every fucking day for others and me ?!”

“But you’re not protecting anyone ! You’re not protecting anyone, not even yourself ! And I have to fucking do that for you because you’re fucking reckless !”

This last one sent a wave of silence rushing through the room. The sound of his heavy breathing soon faded and was quickly replaced by this awkward silence and the violent realization of what he had just said. The guilt was quick to take over, rapidly replacing the anger he felt a few seconds ago. His words resonated in his head, tiny voices slowly getting louder and screaming about how stupid he was. He had fucked up and he could see it in your face.

This expression you were wearing, that one was killing him. He’d seen it before, the one you had when you felt like you had failed, like your efforts were useless and like you should’ve just stayed in your corner. He hated that face and was the first one to silently threaten whoever made you feel this way. Right now, he was the one to make you feel this way and he was already beating himself for it.

He’d just scream in your face that you weren’t protecting anyone, your biggest insecurity and he’d thrown it in your face. You had been scared of not being able to truly protect others and here he was, using it out of anger. He was a dick, and he could see it.

Looking at your face, he could see the anger dissipate and be replaced by sadness before switching to nothing. And that was the worst, the emotionless part that you used when you didn’t want to show that you were upset. He did this and it was biting him in the face as karmic punishment.

“Bunn-“ He cut himself off when he saw you turn away from him to grab your things. No, no, no this wasn’t good, no ! You were not going to leave, not before he could make this right. He refused to let you go before he could explain himself or simply apologize profusely.

When you grabbed you bad with your day clothes in it, he was quick to reach for you wrist and rip the bad out of your hands.

“No, please Bunny look at me.” He pleaded, trying to grab your attention. You went out of your way to avoid his eyes and he was slowly starting to get more and more agitated. “Please, look at me, please ! I didn’t lean it, Bunny ! Let me explain myself before you leave, please !”

You turned to finally face him, and maybe he would’ve rather you not look at him. You looked completely different, looking at him as if he was a complete stranger, someone you didn’t know. He shook his head, grabbing your shoulders to keep you from walking away. You were ready to leave and his sweaty hands were finally showing the possible gravity of his words and behavior since earlier.

You pushed him away, hard enough for him to let go of you, which had him shuffling back, trying to not trip over his own feet. You ignored him and turned to walk towards the door.

“Bunny, please !” In a last resort cause, he webbed his door, managing to push it closed before rushing to you. He grabbed your face to have you look into his eyes. “Don’t leave angry ! You’re not leaving angry, we’re not separating on this, not until we fix this.”

You looked up, smiling sadly, you hand going up to his and taking it off your face to hold it tightly.

“No need. There’s no fight. You don’t fight with children, do you Peter ? You scold them, and you teach them better. Or at least in your case, you make sure they understand that they’re not doing anything useful and you’re burdened with having to make sure they don’t die without you. That’s what you just did, because you treat me like the child I am.”

And it was with these soft last words that you left him, the man standing in his doorway, stunned and rethinking the whole fight. Feeling drained, he closed his door and slid down the wooden board, running his hands over his face. Fucking great, Peter. Way to fucking go. He’d be lucky if he wasn’t single after that.

~

He knew you were upset, he’d said hurtful things and he deserved what he got. But fuck was it painful to not have you around. He genuinely couldn’t feel worse but every time, he felt himself sink lower and lower, he missed you terribly.

It had been two weeks since the fight and in these two weeks, Peter had the time to reflect how utterly stupid he had been. When he thought about it, he has been a hypocrite to be lad at you for jumping in front of danger for him as if he did not do it for you at the smallest things. He could even remember jumping in front of you when a kitten had jumped to rest on your shoulder. It was instinctive to protect you, because he loved you and that’s what people who loved each other did. He protected you and you protected him, that was what you did for each other.

You had been gone for two weeks and these two weeks had been the worst weeks of his life, every day feeling more dull than the previous one. You were a ray of sunshine to him and he’d pushed the sun away by being an idiot and hurting you. You always went out of your way to understand his points and not debate him, privileging discussions and honesty. The one time he had to return the favor, he didn’t, acting on his emotions and fear of you getting seriously hurt and letting it ruin everything. Anger was a bitch.

In these two weeks, he’d spend every day waiting in front of you door, in your apartment building and on campus. He waited for you everywhere, waiting for you to give him a chance to speak. All he got was the silent, treatment and his texts left on read. Everything he tried was met with this wall of silence that he couldn’t take anymore.

He’d been doing everything to get you to talk to him, even going as far as talking to the press and asking you questions. He put you on the spot, which was a shitty move but he was desperate. Now, it always ended with you leaving the scene without even looking at him. The public had soon started mocking him, spreading the news that Spiderman was in the doghouse. It made them laugh but not him, he was the one suffering it. Something about being the butt of the joke probably.

Over this two weeks, he’d been deprived of you entirely, loosing your warmth and the fuel you brought to his heart. He deserved it but it was ruining him a little more each passing hour. Your absence was breaking him, and it was only worsened by the fact that he knew where you lived and went to the same college as you did. You were so close yet so far, within reach but also impossible to grab. You were taking very cautious measures to make him suffer and it was working, he was suffering, a whole lot.

He knew he had reached his breaking point this morning. He couldn’t sleep without you so he decided to swing by your apartment to see if your window was open this time. The night was hot and you slept with your window open in this weather. Except, this time, your window had been closed and locked. Looking into your apartment, you had bought a fucking fan.

Looking through another window, he could see your door. The locks were different, you changed fucking locks !? Was this why he couldn’t open you apartment ? He knew he needed to give you space but this was going so far, the idea that maybe he had lost you for good was starting to become a little more realistic.

His desperation was rapidly toped with anger. You were shutting him out from you life, slowly erasing yourself and that was not going to happen. He was not going to let you walk away from his apartment angry and was definitely not going to let you walk away from him life all together. He was a fighter and he would fight for you, tooth and nails.

~

Maybe changing your locks had been too much, maybe you were being dramatic. But in your defense, you really needed to get new locks and you also didn’t want to let Peter in. You were simply killing two birds with one stone.

You could’ve talked it through, but you felt like it was better to simply walk away this time. Your mind was telling you that this was the best thing to do for now. You’d felt that night, after his words, like you were a burden to him, like you were forcing him to protect you, pushing more stress on him and that was the last thing you wanted. You wanted to help and protect like he did, he you had the capacity to do so. You knew you did and you would never let them go to waste, which is why you kept working to help the citizens of New York.

What you’d stopped doing was communicating with Peter. You would help him if it was needed and if he asked but you couldn’t allow yourself to bother him more than you were already doing. He loved you, you would never doubt it but if he forced himself to take care of you, you would be the one to stop him from doing so. And that started by protecting yourself better with new locks to your door. You might’ve been a protector for this town but no one would protect your things if you were to get robbed. That was adulting, and you would try your best not to fuck it up.

Today had been fantastically dull, Peter’s absence felt a little more than usually. You’d forced yourself to step away and give him space but god was it hard when you were head over heels for the man. He was everything to you and not having him around was hurting more than it should’ve. Now, you wouldn’t deny the fact that you were also being a little petty by not giving him anything. He had upset you he deserved the silent treatment at least.

Going back to your apartment, you felt your entire body being crushed by the weight of the different activities from the week. You were exhausted physically and mentally, which could be fixed with a good shower. You quickly stripped off of you clothes and jump in the cabin, letting the water cover you whole and drown the sound of someone pounding on your door.

Because yes, obviously he was going to show up. He needed to see you, desperately, and this time, he wouldn’t let your silence go on any further. You would talk to him, and that was final.

“Bunny, I swear if you don’t open this fucking door, I’m climbing through your window !” He screamed, not caring about the potential prying ears, curious about the events going on in the hallway.

When you kept silent, he sigh, the anger speaking for him. Well, he had asked for your permission. He backed up slightly, checking both sides before webbing the doorknob and pulling the door towards him before kicking it open. He watched the chain of your door fall to the floor and smirked, fuck your knew locks. He did fell slightly guilty and reminded himself internally to fix them for you after. For now, he simply webbed the door shut, to prevent anyone from opening or seeing what was going on inside.

Walking through your place, he called out your name but again, was met with silence. He only got more and more amused but also annoyed. You were being your petty little self, the one he loved more than anything and right now, he couldn’t control the reactions your silence brought to him. He was majorly angry still and definitely worried but also very turned on by how far you were ready to go to prove a point.

You had him groveling at your feet and you loved it, so did he. He would get on his knees for less and those situations often ended with you naked and your thighs spread open. This was the kind of situation he thought about when he thought about you angry at him and the fact that you’d prevented him from seeing you or hearing you for two weeks did do a number on his sex drive.

Walking to your bedroom, he heard the sound of the water running. You were in there, vulnerable and alone. There was nowhere to run if he cornered you. He was extremely tempted and way past the point of rationality. He went in.

When you heard the sound of your door slamming open, you started panicking, ready to kill whoever it was that was breaking into your apartment. When you saw your boyfriend, your eyes doubled in size.

“What the fuck Peter ?! How the fuck did you get in my apartment ?! What the fuck are you doing here ?!”

“Oh so now you can talk to me ? That’s nice. Sucks that it took me breaking in for you to speak.”

The man let his eyes wander around your naked, glistening body, licking his lips in anticipation. You wanted to be silent ? He’d see how long you could last with what he had in mind for you. He’d make you be so loud, the entire building would hear you, and he’d have your sweet, sweet voice engraved in his eardrums.

Tilting you head to the side, you kept yourself from smiling too visibly. You could see the restraint fade on his face, the man who used to bed on your doorstep long gone. The man in front of you, taking off his shoes and shirt in a hurry was desperate for you, his eyes lingering on your exposed breasts as the water kept pouring over your body. He was weak and ready to do unspeakable things to you.

His eyes devoured you, roaming shamelessly up and down the parts of you he knew he would need in his mouth and the ones he would cover in cum to mark you as his. Peter was understanding and sweet and loving in every aspect of life, but you had this way of bringing out this side of him that would take pure pleasure in ruining you as much as possible. He’d dominate you without intentionally wanting it, simply expressing how much he needed you. And one thing Peter was extremely good at, was needing you.

He’d crave you even when you were right beside him, his body pulled towards yours and itching to feel your skin on his, itching to have your nails scratch his knuckles or his scalp, itching to feel the pad of your fingers on his chest. He needed you as much as one would need air, you were his oxygen, he needed you to live and would do everything in his pour to get his fill. He could very much be compared to an addict and would proudly carry the name if it meant having you by his side.

You should’ve known he’d be loosing it soon, noticing his shape through the window at night. You noticed him everywhere he was and heard him call your name. When it went from a soft plea to an order, you’d noticed it all, it was easy to do, your body craved him too. You could barely process how you went so long without him, internally praising your pettiness for the lengths it could take you to.

Having his presence, burning like fire and invading your lungs, you could see him shed his sweet and awkward persona to be what he kept behind closed doors or behind a red and blue mask. He kept it for you and you only, because it was yours, you had made it, molding this side of his personality with care and attention. He was the Hunter and you were the fox toying with him. He called you Bunny but you were closer to a fox sometimes, a perfect mix between soft and mischievous. You’d bounce one his lap, begging for him to kiss you but you’d also drop to your knees and watch him melt in your mouth and on your hands before letting him do what he craved so badly.

As soon as his shirt hit the floor, he was quick to slide the glass door open and reach inside to pull you towards him by the neck. Letting his jeans be soaked by the water, he smirked when he caught a quick wave of sweetness run through his nose. The sweet scent of your core, aching for him to fuck the silence out of you. Oh, eager could barely cover how you felt. You were buzzing in excitement, forgetting your anger from the previous days.

You arched your back and brought your hands to his naked chest as soon as his strong hands grabbed your neck and pulled you to him with force. He was holding your nape tight and pushed his face towards yours, lips puckering before covering yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers rubbed your veins and the bone of your jaw, managing to pull a little moan out of you and part your soft lips open. His tongue in your mouth, he smiled, licking the inside of it and feeding on your sweet whimpers.

He was suffocating your with his mouth, the kiss so messy, you could barely distinguish the drool that would drip out the corner of your lips and the hot water falling above you. You were loosing focus, the heat too high for you to handle already and the strength of his hand on the back of your head making you feel small and vulnerable. His lips were biting and pulling on yours, never satisfied enough and needing to fully feel your taste on his tongue.

He kept pulling you towards him, his body rubbing against yours in sync with him swollen lips on yours. Both of you were losing oxygen and feeling a little stinging sensation take over your flesh. When he pulled away, a line of saliva followed but was cute by his tongue licking his bottom lip. He smirked, kissing you once more and running his tongue over you lips before fully pulling away to look at the mess he had turned you in.

“Look at you… Already fucking desperate for me to fuck you… When you kept me away for two fucking weeks…”

You couldn’t respond, too mesmerized by the deepness of his voice as you felt it resonate from your head to your pussy and make it pulsate violently. You blinked slowly, still in awe, eyes staring at his face and taking in his hard features. He looked about ready to do nasty things to you, and you were ready to take it all. You clenched your thighs together, which caught his attention. He looked down on your lower stomach and smiled, he would see your juices pour out of you to coat your inner thighs.

He softly dove down onto your neck and rubbed his nose into your skin while your own hands lowered from his chest to pull at the waist band of his jeans. You shuffled with the zipper for a few seconds before he grabs your wrists together and pins them to the wall, above you. When you inhale a sharp breath in surprise, he smiles.

He watched your chest move up and down, in sync with your breathing. You tits, so soft and supple were calling for him, screaming and crying for attention. God, he’d missed them desperately in the last two weeks. He wasted no time to leave your neck to hoist you up and bring them to the perfect level for them to be facing him. He rubbed his face between them, kissing the inside of your breasts and rubbing his nose on your bust. He looked up at you and in this moment, he felt like you were a goddess being worshipped by a mortal man in desperate need for you. Your beautiful eyes were laid on his, staring at him as he nuzzled into you.

His mouth latched onto your nipples, sucking them in vigorously. He let go of your nape and your waist, keeping you up with his hips and digging the tip of his cock into your heat. You could feel it all through the wet fabric of his pants, the throbbing of his cock as it tried to spring free to find refuge in you. He wanted to be inside you but first would need to taste you more.

“F-Fuck… Peter… Baby, calm down…” You moaned, feeling his teeth bite on your nipple before going back to sucking.

He chuckled against your breast before letting it go to latch on the other. His hands were never inactive, his fingers circling around the areolas tenderly and ripping shivers of pleasure out of you on top of your needy moans.

He hummed around your skin, his hands palming and kneading your flesh like dough. He was being rough and tender all at one, bringing you to this in-between state that had you crying for more. He was turning you upside down, making you as loud as he could and he loved you. He had every intention of fucking the silence out of you after all.

When his mouth detached from your chest, he kept on grinding his cock into you and molding your breasts, fingers still playing with the nipples. His brown eyes were hooded and dripping in lust but never left you. They were fixated on you, like stuck on your beautiful face and how it would be marked by the pleasure only he could give you.

“You feel this Bunny ? You feel how hard my cock gets for you ? You can feel it huh ? Throbbing like a fucking teenager because I can’t live without you ? Nothing does this to me, only you and your sweet voice…” He groaned into your ear.

Letting go of one of your tits, he reached for the hot water, turning it off completely and replacing it with cold water. You should’ve been freezing but you weren’t, the shared body heat sufficient to keep you warm.

His lips were quick to find yours again before they moved down your neck and shoulders. He bit and sucked on your flesh, the sweet, honey like taste of your skin lingering on his tongue and engraving itself on his taste buds. Your own hips started moving, rubbing your wetness over his bulge and pushing yourself lower on his to feel him deeper.

“P-Peter… Baby please… Please, m-more…” You breathed out, needing to feel him split you in two. You didn’t care about your anger and your initial fight, you just needed him and he knew that, more than anyone. His senses picking up on your arousal and on how much slick you were dripping on him.

“You wanna beg now Bunny ? Let me hear your voice a little more before…” He smirked, bringing his hands low and pushing two fingers into your folds to gather your juice and taste it.

You were as sweet as a pint of sugar, so much so that he could feel the cavity already forming in his mouth. He tasted you before but these two weeks brought a new height of desperation in him. He needed to taste you all over again. To awaken everything that went silent the moment you crossed the door on your way out of his apartment. He brought his hands back to your folds and starting toying with your clit, swollen and in desperate need of attention. He rubbed his thumb over it, grazing it softly and shushing you when you let out a cry of pleasure.

He wanted to coo at you, feeling whiplash at the contrast between the cold girl you were to him previously but the sweet and needy girl he was grinding his cock into right now. He loved both and would get on his knees for both, but this one, he would pamper and spoil rotten, because she was his good girl, his princess, his Bunny, and she’d get everything from him. Just not now, right now she needed to be punished just a little. Because despite grinding into him like this, you were biting your lips as hard as you could to keep him from hearing you moans out his name.

“You still find it in you to be silent huh ? Still wanna be a brat ? Fine, let’s see how long you can last while I fuck the silence out of you.” He grunted, lips pressed to your ear as his thumb pressed on your sensitive bud and ripped a cry of pleasure out of your throat. “That’s what I fucking thought.”

Turning the water off, he suddenly hoisted you up, properly wrapping your soft thighs around his waist before pushing his bulge into your clenching cunt. He would ruin that poor little hole and turn you into a mess equally as bad as he’d been because of you.

While one of his hands came to grab your ass and keep you up, he put the other to work and opened his pants to let them drop to the floor in a loud tud. Slipping his feet out and kicking the dripping piece of fabric out of the cabin, he let his hand wander back to your neck, grabbing it roughly and pulling you for a kiss that would leave you crying for more. His tongue roaming into your mouth and exploring you thoroughly, you tried to pull away, muttering his name softly each time you had an opening. You laid you hands on his chest, thinking of pushing him away to breath and to win this fight, but he was a good player and you were melting into his hands. He would reach for you every time you would back up and would grunt in your mouth for you to stay still or to speak and tell him clearly what you wanted.

You felt your warm walls throb at each order he’d give you, dominating both your body and your mind. Without thinking, you had been pushing your pelvis towards his member, trying to feel the bulbous head of his cock poke at your entrance and give you slight relief. You were moaning and whining into his mouth, your sweet sound resonating through your bodies and sending shivers down your spine.

You bit back a loud desperate sound of pleasure when he probed at your entrance with his fingers and his cock all at once. The two brought you higher than what you’d experienced before, your walls parting wide for the man you love. He kept your neck held tightly in his grip, his fingers holding your head still and guiding your every move.

The sound of your whines and soft pleas was intoxicating, each one of them going from your loth to his and falling straight into his aching cock. He pulled away from you, kissing your lips repeatedly in small tender kisses. He would gladly spend more time tasting your swollen lips greedily, but he could feel him close to cumming without touching you and he was on a very important mission.

Pushing the tip of his cock into you, he rubbed it up and down, pulling out each time you’d move to have him entirely inside you. He coated your folds and the with the pearly droplets of cum gathering on the small on his tip. His hands left the back if your neck to hold your jaw open, preventing you from keeping in your sounds.

“Feel that Bunny ? Feel the tip of my cock ? If you were good, I’d give you the whole thing... Fuck… Yeah… I’d give you… All I have… If you were good… You want it don’t you ? Tell me you want it Bunny…” He groaned in your mouth, licking the inside and kissing you feverishly.

You felt his tip leave you to lay heavily on your clit, Peter guiding his member to rub on your clit and take the sounds he’d been craving from you.

“A-Anh… F-Fuck… Peter… P-Peter please… I’m begging you please… I’m sorry, b-baby please…” You cried out, feeling your swollen bud about to explode, your walls fluttering violently and tearing down your restraint. “Oh, fuck ! Baby, please ! Please Peter, please, please, p-please !”

Shoving two fingers in your mouth to lay them flat on your tongue and open your mouth wider, he nodded slowly, praising you softly for being good. He knew you’d fold, he knew what cards to play. You were his good girl, he had said it before. You would always do your best, you craved his praises as much as he craved you. Your greedy cunt was doing all the thinking for you, begging for more, begging for him to invade her and turn you into a stupid mess of cum and loud chants of his name.

“You were so mean to me Bunny… So, so fucking mean… Now look at you… Can barely think without my cock telling you what to think… That pretty little head’s all empty, ain’t it ?”

He was about ready to cum right here, right now when you mindlessly nodded, ready to do whatever he wanted from you in hope if getting properly filled up. You’d scream his name as much as he desired if it meant getting his load in every hole of your body. All this, he knew it all to well, which is why he didn’t make you wait any longer. Parting your open with his fingers and swallowing back a moan when you kept nodding like a bobble head, leaning back enough to see how your pussy would swallow him whole. Your tits in full view, you pulled him toward your chest when his long shaft split you open. God, you’d missed him so much, so, so much. He was barely in, a quarter of his cock inside you, that you already felt full. Pulling back, he shoved himself deep in you in one rough thrust. He was fully in you, the tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix.

“Oooh, fuck… Feel… F-Feel so good… So good P-Please… Gimme more… Just a little…” You mewled, voice slurred, drunk off of the feeling of his member invading you so deeply. You were properly cockdrunk, just like he wanted.

Just like he would usually do, he kissed the side of your neck and face to bring you back down to Earth. He wanted you as rational as you could be before fucking you. That’s how he enjoyed breaking you down into tiny pieces. Each and every one of them, as desperate as the next for his attention. That Peter wanted you desperate for him.

He caressed you jaw softly when you let out a cry of displeasure as he pulled out. To not upset you further, he pushed himself back into your warm walls, hands tightening around your thighs. He had waited long enough to feel his high get closer and closer. He was going to cum soon and needed you to give him at least one orgasm first. Seeing you role your hips on him, he knew it would be an easy task.

“Fuck Bunny… So wet but I still feel like I’m about to break you…” He groaned, kissing the crook of your neck to call himself down.

He let go of one of your thighs to start his attack on your pliant body. His long fingers caressed your stomach, pressing into it when he felt his own cock under your skin. When you felt his thumb run closer to your clit again, you started squirming, too sensitive to take whatever he had in mind. Now, you knew you were being punished, Peter couldn’t handle not hearing from you or simply hearing you. You’d brought this on yourself and you would take what he was doing without whining.

His hips started moving in and out of your swollen cunt, gaining a rapid and rough pace that had your cries of pleasure resonating inside the small bathroom. Eyes blown wide and vision blurred by the tears, you could only hold onto him as he fuck you deep. His cock was hitting your pelvis hard enough to have you feeling him everywhere inside you. Your nails were gripping tightly on his flesh, lashing deep marks all over his back. Your entire body was shaking at the rhythm he chose for you. You couldn’t hold yourself together, only take as he broke you down.

His thumb never left your sensitive bud, rubbing circles around it as the head of his cock plowed into your cervix. You cried louder when in a swift move, practically impossible to notice, he changed the position just enough to strike into your deepest part. You completely forgot your earlier plans, wailing his name for whoever could hear to do so.

That was what Peter Parker did when he couldn’t hear your voice. He’d fuck the silent treatment out of you if his excuses and pleading wasn’t enough. And you, little fox that you were, would sometimes find it amusing to push him when you had forgiven him long ago. You would do anything to get the dominant side out, the version that would have you obey his cock’s every command. What could you say ? You liked being turned into his brainless cockdrunk Bunny.

“Oh, God ! Peter, fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! Oh please, don’t stop ! R-Right there Baby please ! S-So… So good !” You screamed into his ear when you got close to your end.

“G-Good… Good girl… Give me more sounds Baby, be as loud as you want…” He praised, rubbing you clit just the right way.

A wave of white covered your face, blinding you as you felt your insides explode all over him. Your cum rushed down his shaft, drowning him in your sweet juices. He followed quickly, assaulting your recovering mind before you could come down. His cum shot out, warming your walls into a big lava like sensation. Feeling his seed spread in you drove your brain down the deepest, darkest corner of stupidity it has ever been in. Your entire body, in this very instant, knew only one thing : him. Your entire being, each and every cell in sync, screamed for him to fill you up more.

“F-Fuck ! P-Peter, Aaaah… P-Peter, Peter, Peter…” You sobbed, tightening your arms around his neck and biting softly on his shoulder. Your nails were still digging into his back, needing to ground you to something, or someone.

Your body kept rocking against his, soft thrust pushing his cum deeper into you. You were still moaning his name, your nose rubbing against his jaw and inhaling his scent. He wanted you stupid and moaning his name, keeping you as loud as possible ? Well that’s exactly what you gave him. He couldn’t help but be proud of you, his Bunny outdid herself. You truly were a good girl.

“See Bunny, that’s what you get for ignoring me.” He smiled softly, his lips pressed on your forehead. His hand went up to your nape, grabbing it tightly and pulling you closer to him. His thumb went up to your neck, grazing it softly. You swallowed hard, anticipating his next love and feeling the slick rush out of your messy folds. “Let’s see how loud you can really get, okay ? I’ll apologize to your neighbors later.”

The moment his lips kissed your temple in one last caring and loving motion, you knew you’d be in for a long night.

~

And you weren’t wrong to think so, your hips bruised from the firm grip he held on them as he bounced you on top of his warm cock. The physical strength given by the spider bite proved your poor exhausted body how far this man could go simply to hear the sound of your voice resonate in his eardrums, even in a very painful way when you’d scream his name loud enough of bite his skin to muffle your sounds.

You had both finished a while ago but you kept your arms locked in place, the body of your boyfriend stuck in place, against you. There was worse places and positions to be stuck in. This one wasn’t one of them, far from it actually.

“Bunny, I’m gonna lay us ok the bed okay ? I’m not going anywhere, we’re cleaning up when you feel better, that okay with you ?” He asked softly, waiting for your greenlight to move you both.

When you nodded silently, he was smooth and gentle in his actions. He delicately placed your head on the pillows, quickly throwing away the ones who’d been soaked by your bodies. You’d been smart to rip away the covers to drop them on the floor, as well as a few pillows. He had completely ignored it but sleeping in warm and dry sheets was definitely better.

You nuzzled into the pillows, looking for the perfect position before pulling him to you, your eyes closed as well as your mouth. You needed to rest after the amount of tears and screams you had let out in this one singular night.

While you fell asleep, his eyes, piercing holes in your face, analyzed your features and burnt them all individually in his memory. He’d remember the soft feeling of your plush lips against his, the heat in your cheeks, the droplets resting on your eyelashes, the crease on your eyelids as you shut your eyes to let the tears of pleasure flow out. All this, he did this and both his ego and girth were struggling with the amount of power he had over you. He knew, and so did you, that you had control over his every move. You could kiss the back of his neck that he’d beg to bury his face between your thighs. Now, seeing what he did to you turned his world upside down and spun it violently. Seeing you cry of pleasure at the feeling of his covered member, so close but too far for your liking, that made him want to see how desperate he could get you. That would be an experiment for another day, for now, he’d make you scream his name so loud, Peter Parker’s name would be more famous than Spiderman’s.

He held you by the waist and kissed the side of your neck to settle your hazy mind and bring you back to him. Your legs felt like cotton candy, trembling still at the violence of your last orgasm and the multiple ones that had preceded. While doing all of this, his lips never stopped kissing you softly, your body trembling at each one of them. You felt like a walking cliché thinking this but, they felt like a dozen of butterflies all dancing around you and resting around the sensitive parts of your body, the parts that only he could know.

Finally able to look at him entirely and without interruption, you giggle when you remembered his attire from earlier. You managed to raised yourself above him to kiss the crown of his hair.

“What’s making you laugh Bunny ?” He asked, looking at you with an amused grin. The little giggle made him scream in agony, you were making his heart stop a little more each time you did something.

“You’re wore jeans in the shower… Like that vine… You’re washing you in your clothes…” You slurred, your entire body feeling like boiled potatoes. Your voice was broken and shifted to a raspier version if it.

This could’ve killed the mood but he couldn’t help it, laughing loudly at your complete disregard for your physical state and what had happened to you not too long ago. Making vine references after getting fucked was something only you two could do, that’s how you were beyond the fighting, the little sprinkle on codependency and the many other flaws you both shared. You were a bunch of kids in love for each other to a very high degree, one that only few could reach so early in a relationship. You were lucky to be stuck in a constant honeymoon phase but realistic, with the flights and the necessary conversations.

Suddenly thinking about the reason why you two were in this situation to begin with, it all felt so stupid and futile. Looking into his eyes with a big grin, you kissed the tip of his nose before burying yours in his neck. You would apologize for ignoring him for two weeks and for putting yourself in danger in the first place, and he’d apologize for yelling at you when you were protecting him and for saying things that he didn’t think or that were true for the sake of getting his point across. You would both do all if this later, him doing his part after he properly took care of you for keeping him from hearing you for two weeks.

For now though, you’d wait until your voice was back and you’d take the time to think of another reason to be silent for a little while. Everything was a good reason to have him fuck you like this again.

[jillianallen14]

Spirk fanfic rec

Some amazing Spirk fanfic to bless your dash because I’m falling in love with this shit all over again (this is like the 10th time this has happened lol):

Entering Orbit:  Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch; rated m; 30,957 words

Papers in the Roadside:  Non-Starfleet AU. Jim owns a small bar in Chicago, keeps on picking up strays and taking care of everyone no matter how hard it makes his own life. Spock is a journalist writing feature articles for the Chicago Tribune; he depicts the world with uncanny skill, but hides more than one personal drama and is possibly under surveillance from the Vulcan royal family. They meet by accident just before their lives start to spin out of control; rated e; 49,637 words

Take Refuge in What You Know:  AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma; rated e; 120,334 words

Listen, this is not only my favorite Star Trek fic of all time, it’s also one of my favorite fanfics in general. It’s right up there with Text Talk and The Shoebox Project from the HP fandom, which if you’ve read, you know are incredible and frankly life-changing. And this fanfic changed my life. The description the author gives doesn’t do the beauty of this fic justice. I suffer from agoraphobia and Spock’s depiction as an agoraphobic man was probably the most well-researched, sympathetic, empathetic, caring, realistic portrayal of what it’s like to be agoraphobic that I’ve ever witnessed in fiction. It made me cry like a child because I had never felt so seen and understood. This writer is incredible, and this fic is incredible. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s an AU, which I’m usually pretty wary about, but it barely even feels like an AU. It just feels like Jim and Spock. The author’s understanding of both of their characters’ is perfect, like just a spot-on portrayal of who they are. This fic genuinely helped me accept who I am and helped me understand that I am capable of & deserving of love. If you don’t read any other Star Trek fics (and you def should read more Star Trek fics because they’re amazing), then let this one be the one you read. I dare you not to read it three times in a row like I did.

Observations:  First Officer Spock comments on life aboard the Enterprise and his service under Captain James T. Kirk; rated m; 500,000+ words.

So the author of this fic actually did a thing where they made this fic into two books (similar to what The Shoebox Project authors did many years ago in the HP fandom). They don’t get any money from people buying the books; the cost is just to go towards producing the books. This fic is the equivalent of two LARGE novels. We’re talking 600 pages & up. It’s a huge fic. Now, that being said, I read it in one day. ONE DAY. It’s that good. This is another one of my all-time favorite fics, though not quite as dear to my heart as the one I listed above. It’s focused on AOS, and tbh, I forget that what happens in this book isn’t actually canon. Like it’s so well-told, it just feels like it’s now part of the timeless story of Kirk & Spock. The “professional” Star Trek writers would never be brave enough to do what this author does with Kirk and Spock, though. This fic will make you angry, will make you laugh, will make you cry. It has such a good grasp on every single character. It also shows the love between the crew of the Enterprise, which is always a treat, and it’s beautifully done in this fic. It has a sorta-enemies-to-lovers arc between Spirk and an enemies-to-close-friends arc between Spock and McCoy that is beautifully done and fleshed out. This fic is definitely a journey to go through, and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s extremely slow burn, and you will want to slap both Kirk and Spock (and McCoy) upside the head at certain points lol. 

Of Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves:  The progression of a relationship, through Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves. Basically, it’s an AU where Kirk works at a coffee shop to pay his way through school, and Spock visits often. rated t; 16,429 words

Love, love, love, this fic. It’s cute, it’s in character. They have kind of a rocky start together, so it’s got a little bit of that Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy i-hated-you-but-now-i-love-you-marry-me vibes to it. I’m a sucker for that, if you haven’t figured that out by now lol. It’s really good, and a really enjoyable read. And it’s not too long, if you’re in the mood for something on the shorter end of things.

 Please Don’t Touch the Vulcans:  The "yes" is out of Jim's mouth before he can think about it. Jim is chipper about having time off for the holidays. He asks everyone if they want to spend time together but sadly, everyone ditches Jim over the holidays because they have plans. McCoy visits his daughter, Nyota visits her family, and everyone splits. Not knowing Spock has feelings for him, Jim doesn't even bother asking if he wants to spend time together figuring he has something to do. Something cute, romantic with the boys spending time with one another and confessions; rated m; 17,690 words

Super cute and has lots of Sarek, which idk about y’all, but I’m always a fan of. Sarek and Jim kind of get to know each other a bit, and it’s cute. Sarek knows about they’re in love before Spock & Kirk know lol. If I remember correctly, there’s also some appearances from everyone’s favorite: Old!Spock! You also get a little bit of jealous and protective Young!Spock. So you’re in for a real treat with this one. 

The Ren shat’var Trilogy:  A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection; rated e; 184,411 words

Textual Attraction:  Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting –and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made! 15,900 words

SO GOOD. Just SO good

Spaceman:  Academy AU. Five times Spock realizes he's attracted to a barista at the academy spaceport, and one time he decides to do something about it. rated t; 3728 words

Short, sweet, funny. You’ll love it.

Subtext: Texting your Vulcan first officer in the middle of the night is never a good idea. Especially when you have an obsessive crush on said Vulcan.The holidays are approaching and Jim is left entirely Spockless aboard the Enterprise when his First takes shore leave on New Vulcan. After some midnight pining, Jim sends a text he instantly regrets. That is, until Spock responds and willingly continues their textual communications to an inevitable conclusion; rated t; 13,032 words

Cute, sweet, funny. It’s a texting fic. I think you’ve probably figured out I love those. This one makes me laugh so fucking hard. Like actually laugh-out-loud-omg-did-i-just-snort kind of funny. Spock is great in this one

All Spock Wants For Christmas:  While Jim is away on a delegation mission, he panics about what to give Spock for Christmas. With help from Bones and Uhura, and in between some spam texting with Spock, Jim realizes he already has the perfect gift. And all it needs is wrapping paper and a bow; rated t; 11,966 words

And here we have another cute, sweet, funny texting fic. Sue me lol

The Morning After:  Jim convinces Spock to take shore leave with him on Risa, hoping the time together will help re-solidify their bond of friendship after some recent tension. Meanwhile, Spock convinces himself he's on Risa for one reason and one reason only, to prevent his wayward captain from getting into trouble. After a passionately illogical night of Romulan Ale and chocolate infused liquor, everything changes when Jim wakes with something other than a hangover filling his head. Something he's sure neither he nor Spock can handle. Because if Jim knows anything for sure, it's that his messed up thoughts belong nowhere near Spock's clean, ordered mind; rated m; 50,381 words

HAHA. This fic fucking cracks me up. You’ve got drunk boys pining over each other & not realizing it. You’ve got accidental marriage. You’ve got bed sharing. It’s great, it’s cute, it’s funny. 

Take This Sinking Boat (And Point It Home):  In which Spock pines, Jim isn’t stupid (except he kind of is), and Christopher Pike has had enough of this bullshit; 6698 words

Pike is great in this one, and it’s super, super funny.

Extracurricular Activities:   Spock returns to the Academy from a tour of duty to find an intriguing cadet captures his attention; rated e; 15,433 words

Veritas: Basically, Kirk and Spock are on trial because the Federation thinks they are emotionally compromised by each other, which is putting the lives of their crew in danger. They have to convince a court they’re not actually in love with each other. They think the claims are bullshit. They think it will be easy to prove that they aren’t in love or emotionally compromised, damn it. It isn’t; rated m; 186,80 words

This one is so, so good. A real gem off of Fanfic.net. I remember it was actually one of the first Spirk fanfics I ever read, and it blew me away. The progression of their relationship is really well-done and interesting. It has star-crossed lovers vibes and has some really emotionally intense moments in it, especially for Spock. 

A Habitual Affection:  Living in 1930s New York with the Vulcan you're secretly in love with is no simple thing. But Jim never liked anything simple. And then, the big snowstorm hit...; rated t; 7998 words

A beautiful TOS fic about one of the gayest episodes of Star Trek. Love this one. 

Atlas:  Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning; rated t; 135,529 words

A beaut. Really great characterization, and the progression of Jim and Spock’s relationship is really well-done.

[scuttling]

Trophy Husband

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,188 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Dry humping, Unprotected sex, a lil Daddy kink Summary: Requested by anon: “maybe some dad bod hotch smut? like where he’s newly retired and hasn’t been working out as much and the reader worships his body bc he’s been feeling a little insecure” I love some dad bod Hotch, so happy to fill this request! Link to A03 or read below!

“No, we’re not doing forced overtime again. If you want my team to put out more consults, then we need to hire more profilers.” You walk through your front door and into the kitchen, smiling when you see Aaron standing over the stove, holding a wooden spoon and stirring something that smells amazing. “With all due respect, I’m not concerned about the budget, sir; if my people are as valuable as you stated, then I expect them to be taken care of.”

Aaron looks back at you, wrinkles his nose, and you make a motion with your hands—blah, blah, blah—which makes him chuckle.

“I agree completely, sir. That’s a great idea. If you send down the requisitions tomorrow, I’ll start interviewing on Monday. No, thank you. Good night.” You lock your phone, set your bag on the stool closest to you, and sigh. “Was it this hard to get stuff done when you were the unit chief?”

“No, it’s definitely harder now, but you make it look easy. And sexy,” he says with a smirk, and you walk over to him; he offers a taste of what he’s making—it looks like paella, and your stomach rumbles—and you lean in to take a bite off of the spoon, looking up at him and flicking your tongue over your lips. His eyes get dark.

Even after ten years of marriage, he’s so easy to get going, it’s almost unfair.

“Delicious, daddy, thank you.” You stand up fully, and he turns back to the stove; your arms wrap easily around his waist, cheek pressed to the soft, worn t-shirt that covers his back. “How was your day? Are you still enjoying the life of a trophy husband?” He snorts, muscles tensing enough that you can feel it where you rest.

“Hardly.” He was in such a good mood a moment ago that this feels like a complete 180; profiler or not, you know your husband, and something’s on his mind. You tighten your embrace, and he shrugs you off a little, and that is practically unheard of. You stand, take a step back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t getting bored of retirement already, are you? It’s only been six months.” He sighs, shakes his head. You’re sure you look confused.

“No, retirement is fine; it’s great, actually, it’s not that.” Typical Aaron, always making you drag this shit out of him. For being so sweet and kind, he’s still not that great at being open, even though you make every effort to encourage it.

“What is it, sweetheart? Something is obviously bothering you; we should talk about it.” Another deep exhale, and he turns off the burner, moves the pan of food off of the heat, and turns to face you fully.

“I imagine you already know.” You shake your head, shrug, and he gestures to himself, to his body. You feel stupid, like there’s something you’re missing.

“Aaron, love of my life, I don’t have any idea what this means.” You mimic his previous motion, and he rolls his eyes, which you can’t stand, and he’s well aware of that. “You’ve got to give me more than that, or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help, it just… is.” He sighs, and his shoulders deflate. You move closer, to touch him, comfort him, but he takes a step back. “I know I’m not the ‘trophy husband’ you probably expected me to be. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

You do your best to put together these cryptic sentences, the hand gesture, and when realization finally dawns on you, you can’t help it: you laugh.

Aaron turns away, and you know that was shitty, feel instantly terrible, so you reach out to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just… you don’t think you’re hot anymore?” He turns to face you, looking at you like he’s tired of your shenanigans, which… after this long, he should be plenty used to them, so the look does nothing for you.

“I’ve gotten… soft, I think that’s obvious.” At that, you smirk a little, move your hands to the button on his jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything soft about you, Aaron. Why don’t you let me put your cock in my mouth, and we’ll check again.”

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His tone is a little admonishing, and you kind of deserve it, so you stop being horny for a second and take a deep breath.

“You’re right. Sorry. So… you’re exercising less, because obviously you don’t need to be as fit anymore, since you’re not working. Am I following?” He nods his head. “Okay, and you’re feeling… insecure about the way your body looks now, because of it.”

“Yes. Especially when you, Unit Chief Hotchner, are kicking ass and looking fucking delicious doing it, and then you have to come home to me.”

It’s like a switch is flipped in you, at those words. Oh hell no.

“Hold on here. I don’t have to come home to you, I get to come home to you; every night I do, it’s like a dream come true, and on the nights I don’t get to come home to you, I dream about it. I dream about being in your arms—strong arms, always, even if they’re less defined—and I dream about making love to you and fucking you and everything in between. You: not the Aaron of two months ago or six months ago or five years ago. You.”

He looks your face over—you’re getting fired up and you know it, and it turns him on and you also know that—and then the two of you come together for a deep, desperate kiss. Your hands fist in his hair, his roughly grab your ass, and when you pull back for air he turns you so you’re bent over the counter, searches for the zipper of your skirt.

“No!” He freezes, then steps back, and you stand up, flushed. “I’m sorry, not no—just, not here.” He blows out a breath, and you kiss him softly, sorry you scared him. “It’s just that… I want to lay you back on our bed, completely naked, and I want to put my mouth and my hands on you, everywhere. I want you to see what your body does to me, exactly as it is right now. I get that that might make you feel a little vulnerable, but will you let me?” You press your lips to his again, put your hands gently on his face. “Let me, baby.”

He nods, and you take his hand, take him to your bedroom. He’s visibly nervous, so you move his hands to your body, let him strip you naked first. He always takes pleasure in this, whether he is ripping the buttons off your favorite blouse or softly mouthing at your thighs while he drags your panties down your legs, and tonight is no exception.

“So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs as he finds that zip and drags it down, helping you step out of the skirt. You kick off your heels, and he unbuttons your top—carefully, tonight—then unhooks your bra, pulls you close and kisses your neck and chest so deliciously you almost forget what brought you here.

You lick your lips, shake yourself from the haze of submission you always feel when his mouth is at your throat, and your hands flick open the button of his jeans, tug down the zipper, guide his pants to the floor. He steps out of them, and you kiss his mouth.

Your hands move up, to the hem of his t-shirt, but you do nothing. He smirks, pulls it over his head, because he knows you love that hot guy way of pulling a t-shirt off with one hand, and he happens to be a master of it. You do your best not to drool.

“Mmm. You know exactly what I like, Aaron. There’s nobody in this world who could turn me on like you, who could get me off like you.” He licks his lips, and you get on your knees, running your hands down his body as you go. “Toes to nose, you are exactly who and what I want. Don’t ever forget that.”

You start low, press your lips to the tops of his feet, then his ankles, his calves, his knees. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but you keep moving up, slowly, until your hands find the waistband of his underwear and you pull them down. His cock springs up—this in particular is never a problem, no matter his age—and you kiss up his thighs and then rise to stand.

“Baby,” he breathes, and you lean up for a kiss, drop your panties. He grabs a fistful of your hair, takes another, rougher kiss, then releases you; you’re panting hard, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. God, he’s good. How could he ever doubt his sex appeal when he makes you this much of a horny, eager mess with just a kiss?

You guide him back to the bed because he’s too tall for you to reach everywhere standing up; you start at his right wrist, kiss your way to the crook of his elbow, over his biceps, to his shoulder. You trail your lips over his collarbone, his throat, pausing to nibble on his earlobes, to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much, Aaron. You are and always will be perfect in my eyes. I barely even notice when you’re being a dick anymore,” you joke, and he laughs; steamy and sexy is really good, but it’s your favorite when he laughs.

You kiss down the other side of his neck, down his arm, but this time you bring his hand up and suck on his middle and ring fingers, taking them so deeply you can flick your tongue over his wedding ring. He groans, you groan, it’s really hot. Your pussy throbs.

“Fuck, baby.” You pull them out of your mouth with an innocent smile, and then straddle his legs, leaning forward to suck and bite kisses all over his stomach and hips, avoiding his cock altogether. “Oh, god, that feels so good,” he breathes, reaching for your hair, and you slide your arms up his chest, squeeze the muscles there that are softer, but still present, while you kiss wetly along his belly.

“Mmm,” you moan while you kiss, because you’re kind of… lined up tight against his thigh, and it feels really good.

You keep kissing, all over, sloppy, eager kisses, rubbing his chest and grinding against his thigh, and it’s a surprise to you both when you come, looking up at him with your mouth open and your nails digging into his skin.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh when you’re done—there’s no sugarcoating this—humping his leg, and he licks his lips, wraps his hands around your arms, and maneuvers you on onto your back, slides his cock easily inside you where you’re wet and warm. “Yes, Aaron.”

“Oh, baby. Fuck, I love you,” he groans, and he laces your fingers with his and tucks his face against your neck. You love when he gets like this, so desperate to come but so soft, so loving, and you squeeze him with your legs, push your body into his thrusts.

“Like that, honey, just like that,” you breathe, mouthing at his shoulder, your free hand clutching at his back. “Come inside me, daddy; pin me with your big body like you always do and come inside me. Love it, want it, need it.”

He moans into your throat, works his hips harder, faster, and you hold him when he comes, smoothing your palm over his skin. He looks down at you, and love shines in his eyes just like always; your heart melts a little. That’s something you’ll never get tired of seeing as long as you live.

He pulls out, replaces his cock with his fingers and brings you to orgasm again, still looking into your eyes, and he catches your last gasping moan with his lips.

You’re both tired after that, not as young as you used to be, and you pull him on top of your body again, a warm, reassuring weight; underneath him is your favorite place to be, always has been, always will be.

“Trophy husband,” you coo in his ear, scraping fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Badass wife.”

“Mm hmm, and don’t you forget it.” After a couple minutes, your stomach rumbles, and Aaron climbs off of you, returns with the whole pan of paella, two spoons, and a bottle of white wine. “No glasses?” you ask, teasing, sitting up against the pillows, and he shakes his head, wrinkles his nose.

“Nah, I like it better this way. My lips where your lips have been.” He leans in for a soft, slow, sultry kiss, and you sigh when it’s over, lean your head against his shoulder, and smile.

❤️ Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix

[riverisnotsafe]

Pretty Girl. (Yet to be completed)

PAIRINGS: Chubby!F!Reader x JJK Characters

Gojo | Toji | More to come

WARNINGS: SMUT. NSFW/MINORS DNI! Pet names, a handful of kinks (overstim, daddy, breeding etc..) but for different characters. They might be OOC, I guess it’s how I depict them in my head.

A/N: A comment ON AO3 wanted Toji and I was in the mood for this dilf so I decided to grant their wishes. He might be OOC because I write them based on how I depict them in my head so sorry if you have a different depiction. This one is more plot heavy than pure smut unlike Gojo's btw. I kinda like it honestly. A soft dom Toji. I wasn't sure to use 'daddy' so I didn't because I have that planned for someone else and I'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink but pet names for the reader are still my fav hehe. Not edited and lowkey lazy.

Toji Fushiguro

The sound of skin against skin. The stench of sex around the room. Bodies drenched in sweat. The sound of your moans were music to Toji’s ears. Nothing makes him feel better than to fuck his pretty kitten senseless. Your walls squeeze around his dick and he picks up his pace. “You about to cum sweetheart?” he whispers to you. You could only nod. “Hm? Don’t hear ya answer kitten. Are ya gonna cum?” He slowed down. He’s such an asshole.

You inch downward in hopes for him to go deeper but he pins you down. “Nope. Answer.” “Y-yes! I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum Toji. Thrust back inside!” you whined. “That’s my girl.” He rams back into you picking up the pace. “Cum for me beautiful” he coos. “A-ahn, T-toji~” you shudder as orgasmic waves overcome you. “Ah shit. You look hot as fuck.” he releases inside you. He stopped to take a breath without pulling out.

“More?” he reaches for neck. You stay silent. Toji squeezes around your neck. A good choke did arouse you but something to else was playing on your mind. “Kitten, I asked. You’re really testing my patience tonight.” he growls. “N-no, no more..” you squeaked “That’s my g- what? Did my kitten just say no more? You were needy for my cock just a moment ago. Are you fucking with me right now?” Well both of you were quite literally ‘fucking’. “I-I just don’t feel up to it, Toji.” you frowned, you avoided his gaze.

It took him a bit to get that your mind had wandered. “You thinking bout someone else? Is that why? I know we have a pretty open relationship but that’s such a turn of-“ “No, I um, you know I don’t fuck anyone else. Who would want someone like me Toji...” you were on the verge of tears. “Then? What do you mean kitten?” “Y-you called me beautiful... no one does. Who’d call some bitch who wears plus sizes beautiful hahah, probably just sex talk right” tears fall from your eyes.

Toji has never seen you cry. He rarely came to see you and when he usually does, it’s only sex. Your ‘open relationship’ isn’t THAT open. Toji actually doesn’t sleep with anyone else despite his long long history of unnamed women he's railed. After meeting you, he got really hung up, he thought you were some kind of miracle the so-called heavens had given him. He couldn’t fuck anyone else. All he thought about was you. When he slides into them, he'd close his eyes and imagine your cute face instead. Their moans? he'd imagine them coming from you. When he came, he was hoping it would be you. Sometimes he even cum outside because the girls had become such a turn off especially when all he had in his head was you. He isn't allowed to contact past clients but you were just a clients acquaintance so he was like fuck it, and asked for your number from an informer. So seeing you cry, did make him feel discomforted and uneasy since it was hard for the killing machine to empathize.

“Kitten. What the fuck are you on about?” If he learnt math it would probably be easier than deciphering whatever the hell you’re crying about. “Y-you called me beautiful...” “And? You fucking are???” This man was genuinely confused. “You want other compliments hm? Beautiful too low for you?” “No..Toji. I’m big. I have too much meat. I don’t think beautiful is a word you could describe me with. You probably only stayed with me because I’m easy hahah. Who’d actually want someone like me as a partner. All this sex...only you would fuck me. Other guys just side eye me because I could never reach a model's standards. All my clothes are big and baggy too...I’m ugly.”

Toji’s brain had a switch that flipped when he hears all your negative self-talk. He finally gets it. “Sweetheart. Ah shit. I’m not good with this crap. I’d murder anyone who doesn’t think my girl is sexy but I can’t do it because the one talking shit about my girl is my girl.” He switched positions so you’re on top of him. His broad chest as a pillow to your tears. He pets your head. “Honestly, do you think I’m fucking attractive? I got a scar on my face and I look like I don’t shower. I work 9-5 in blood baths and probably reek.” “You are! You’re really good looking! And your physique is amazing, no one could compare” you think very highly of your lover.

“Guess my body is the only appealing thing to ladies I’ve fucked in the past. Easy huh? They were easy. You? You easily made a brute like me talk about shit like this. It’s different. You're different.” His fingers comb through your hair then slide down your back, and earning a shudder from the sensation. And his hand lands on your ass. He squeezes it, a gasp comes out of you. “Your body huh. Big? What’s up with being big? This fucking meaty ass. Ah shit I’m getting hard just squeezing it. No one else has a good ass like this. No one has tits like these. Kitten, if you wanna wear some tight ass clothes, go for it. Baggy clothes? You could wear some of my shirts, I’d fuck you even harder in them.”

He sits up and props you into his lap. Your entrance rubbing against his hard dick. “Fuck people. All they do is torment those different from them...” his voice trails off, a distant memory rings in his mind. “If I say you’re fucking beautiful sweetheart, you’d better believe it, I’ll need to fuck some sense into you to make you believe that?” He sneakily slides himself back into you. “T-toji! Not so sudden..” your tears had dried and he seemed content seeing you.

“Other guys? Ah, fuck them. I’m the one making you scream and cum all the time, why care about them? I’ll just slash their heads off if that’s what it takes. Now...do you want more?” He nibbles on your ear, his dick twitching in you, excited for an answer. “Toji...” your hand guides his face close to yours and you kiss him. Toji being Toji makes it into a heated make out session. “Kitten, you’re beautiful.” He pushes you down. He slowly thrusts in and out. You could feel his veiny cock sliding. There’s something unusually arousing for such a rough man to be slow and steady.

Beautiful for him. That’s all that mattered. He was beautiful for you. He picked up his pace, making you a moaning mess. “T-toji cum in me! I want to be yours forever.” Ah that hit the mark. The monster of a man shot his load deep in you. He could go all night and he will be going all night for his kitten. “Thank you...Toji” you close your eyes to rest for a few minutes. Toji stared down on you, you were gorgeous. He should be thanking you for accepting a man like him.

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[oumaheroes]

Old Age

Word Count: 1772

Characters: Canada, England, and France

---

There were some days where Canada truly felt his age.

Most of the time how old he was didn’t really hit him. He happily pottered around work or home as easily as he imagined most humans his physical age did: running for a train he was almost certainly going to miss, tripping down the last few steps on a flight of stairs because he was staring at his phone and wasn’t watching his feet, or spilling coffee on himself when he missed his mouth taking a sip.

His colleagues, despite knowing who he was, spoke to him as an equal and Canada could happily pass weeks, or sometimes even months, without consciously being aware of how old he was- or even really what he was.

It was easy to forget, surrounded by humans every day, that he was not one. His ministers and co-workers spoke to him without questioning his position that high in government- that was admittedly unusual for a face as young as his. Occasionally, he’d bump into a young intern or graduate who didn’t know him and he’d have a nice, genuine interaction before a look of shock crossed their face when someone high up greeted him respectfully. It was a helpful, yet stark, reminder.

But overall, when you were surrounded by people who did know it never really hit him that his presence or job was something he took for granted and the passing of time was something he didn’t really take notice of. It was normal. He was there, he was called Matthew, sometimes, or Canada, but both were his name and the potency of what he was, was surprisingly quite forgettable.

Of course, what he was was never something he could completely avoid. Someone would mention a time, or a date, or a thing that had happened and Canada would immediately feel the distance widen between them all as it was made obvious that, to everyone else, what they were discussing was history. It was something passed, something that had happened to other people too long ago to properly connect with on an emotional level. An old battle, an old political bill; something that someone long long dead had said or written that now remained only as faint ink on curling, dusty paper.

But to Canada it was there in his head, the words clear and as easy to recall as if they were spoken to him yesterday. A benefit of nationhood, he supposed, to be fully aware of things that had political consequence, to be able to trace the makings of himself back through time and see how they spiralled and grew.

History wasn’t just words, to him, or mere events. Such things made up the foundations of himself, the building blocks of his life and he felt them thrum through him like a song, twisting and moulding him into being.

Becoming aware of his age and the difference between himself and humans were when Canada really felt the weight of the years he carried. Over three hundred of them made themselves known, hanging off his shoulders and settling down to his legs to hold him up. It was easy to briefly forget how old he was, but that knowledge was impossible to rid himself of entirely- Canada was made up of history, of the bones of time and they cracked together as he moved through his life to remind him of who he was with every step.

He had burned, he had bled, he had died. He had seen.

That was the point of him. To watch to passage of time and remember it, to hold the memory of his people within him and use their voices and experiences to push for the continuation of the future. Their future.

Canada was his people, was made by his people for his people and as he sat amongst them, discussing old old moments long gone with humans who could only read and dream of them, the distinction of what he was would hit him like a thunderbolt.

It was heavy, to be so old. To have seen so many things, to have lived through so much. To be what he was.

He had just had one of those instances. He and his cabinet had spent the entire morning discussing the founding of their nation and its independence in order to plan for the yearly celebrations and Canada had suffered through the whole time feeling every second of his age press against him.

When talks finally drew to a close and he could escape, Canada dragged his ancient body towards the centre of town. England and France were visiting, along with the rest of the UN, and he’d promised to meet them both for lunch before they too were pulled into an afternoon of far more internationally inclined meetings.

If he were honest with himself, what Canada really wanted to do was go home and watch TV; switch his brain off so that he could numb himself with bad reality shows. It was a good pastime that he enjoyed with guilty abandon and one that he would much rather have preferred doing. However, he’d made a promise and Canada was nothing if not a nation of his word.

Sadly.

England and France were already there when he arrived, tucked away in a corner table. France glanced up as the door jingled with his entrance, waving him over with a smile. Canada nodded at the waiter who motioned him through and settled himself down in a chair at their table between them.

‘Good afternoon,’ France greeted him with his usual cheek kisses, hair tickling Canada’s nose as he leant in close, ‘you arrived just on time, I was about to throw Arthur out of the window.’

‘You wish,’ England looked up from his phone and shot him a quick, but warm smile, ‘Hello Matthew.’

Canada’s heart sank. He really wasn’t in the mood to play mediator today, ‘Dare I ask why?’ he said, turning to France.

France gave an effortless shrug and settled back in his seat, ‘Do I really need a reason?’

‘Yes.’

Both England and Canada spoke at once and France gave a sly grin, ‘I won’t darling, you don’t deserve the trouble,’ he patted Canada’s knee soothingly and politely ignored England’s muttered “as if you could” from across the table, ‘but the idiot seems to think he’s correct about something which he very much is not.’

‘Oh, of course,’ England retorted immediately, ‘you can’t remember properly but I’m the one who’s wrong.’

‘Yes.’

‘No.’

‘What is it?’ Canada interjected quickly. The waiter who had greeted him at the door was shooting their table looks of alarm out of the corner of his eye and Canada smiled at him apologetically, ‘Maybe I could help.’

To his surprise, England and France shared a look, something unspoken passing between them, ‘You weren’t about yet,’ offered France, sounding apologetic.

‘When was it?’

‘Oh, not too long ago,’ England waved a hand airily, ‘only six hundred years or so.’

Canada blinked, ‘Six hundred?’

‘Or there abouts,’ England frowned again, ‘I’m not sure when exactly, but I know France is wrong.’

France scoffed, ‘You can’t remember when it is, but you know I’m wrong?’

‘Obviously. I know it was about fifty years after Agincourt, I’m not sure of exactly when but-‘

‘Well, there you go! You’ve muddled it up with something else.’

‘I haven’t! You held that ball, the one with the fucking shit tonne of flowers everywhere, and were displaying those golden goblet things you were so damn proud of and I gave you that stupid painting-‘

‘No!’ France interjected angrily, ‘You took that painting and then were made to give it back.’

‘I didn’t! It was my bloody painting- Jesus fucking Christ,’ England held his head in his hands, ‘that’s not the point, I’m using that as a reference-‘

‘Yes well, pick a reference that has a grain of reality in it, would you?’

England opened his mouth to argue back again but Canada didn’t hear him, by now long tuned out of the conversation.

Only. Only six hundred years ago. Canada couldn’t even imagine that amount of time, couldn’t imagine having lived so long that six hundred years was considered to be a mere drop in the ocean.

But to these two, it was. England and France had both been alive for millennia, had known each other for that long and had been alive without each other for even longer before that.

Sitting next to them, his own existence suddenly felt like nothing, felt insignificant in the history of mankind. What had Canada seen, that these two had not? He couldn’t even begin to imagine. Three hundred years felt more than enough.

It hit him, then, how long most of their kind had lived. He’d realised this before, of course, but still the comprehension about the difference in age between him and most of the world left him dumbstruck anew. Fuck, what about China; Lord only knew how old he really was. There wasn’t a point in history that it didn’t seem as though China hadn’t been around to experience, even from across the world. Whole empires and civilisations had risen and fallen and most of the nations Canada knew had personally been involved in them somehow. It was astounding to consider all the people who had lived throughout the centuries that, to Canada, felt like nothing more than characters in a story.

What on earth was three hundred years to age like that? To history that felt so ancient to him, so disconnected that it didn’t really even feel real, but that was as normal to most nations as his own history was.

How many years would Canada have to live until three hundred was something he would describe as ‘only’?

‘Are you alright, lad?’ Canada was jolted out of his spiral to find England looking at him with concern, a hand on his arm.

‘Yeah, sorry,’ he shook his head, ‘it’s just- you’re both so old.’

England coloured and France laughed, ‘We’re not old,’ England jabbed a thumb in France’s direction, ‘Well, he is.’

‘It is more about how you feel and act, dear, that’s more important and in that regard, you are far older than I.’ France yelped suddenly as England kicked him under the table, ‘Does the truth sting, Arthur? Is that why you felt the need to vent your frustrations on me?’

‘As if I need more of a reason-‘

They began again, in earnest, but Canada let them continue uninterrupted, silently and guiltily enjoying the feeling of being a child once more.

---

AN:

I must admit that not much thought or plot went into this. I wanted to write something short and somewhat silly as a treat for spending most of yesterday editing. Ideally, one day I want to take this concept and explore it more with greater care and detail because I think it’s something a newer nation like Canada would really struggle with.

300 years is a long time, and I’m sure it must be hard for him to feel that age and then go and speak to anyone from the Old World and be met with the reality of how truly old their kind can be. Canada is a baby, despite the centuries he has collected for himself, and I feel like there would always be that conflict within him about how old he feels around humans comapred to how old he is next to other nations. Maybe this idea is best explored as a headcannon rather than a fic, but I had a fun time writing it.

Anyway, that is my tuppence worth- thank you for reading!

[honeypiehotchner]

delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.  

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here. 

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugo Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 16:

Another day, another round of assignments that made you want to tear your hair out. You’d made virtually no progress on your project- seeming to find nothing but Dynamight smear pieces no matter where you looked. 

You felt a little hopeless and frustrated, but that was alright- you knew the perfect pick-me-up. 

You frowned. That wasn’t an answer you wanted to hear, but you figured you should’ve have been that surprised. 

It you’d learned anything about him over past two weeks, it was that you were expected to live in Bakugou’s world and it was his way or not at all. 

You rolled your eyes in minor frustration, but answered him anyway.

You huffed, your annoyance growing. 

You didn’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you anything. Was he not curious about you the way you were about him? Did he not care even a little bit? 

Oh well- you knew when to pick your battles, and you could see from miles away that this was an incredibly idiotic one to pick right now. 

You decided to ask him something lighter next. Maybe he’d answer then.

You sighed in nothing but utter bewilderment. Bakugou had to be the strangest person you could ever remember meeting. 

You groaned audibly. 

Talking to Bakugou was like pulling teeth, almost every time, and you couldn’t figure out why you kept coming back. All you knew is that you were going to, even with how annoying he was being right now. 

Huh? 

Embarrassing? 

You wracked your brain, searching and searching for anything that could’ve been embarrassing to him. He already said he wasn’t going to ask anything inappropriate, and he’d already swore several times that he wasn’t a liar, so it wasn’t that- but if it wasn’t that then what was it? 

He read your message, but didn’t begin typing. 

You were just intrigued now, what was he talking about? Why was he being so cagey about it?

The more you thought about it, the more nervous you were getting. You genuinely had absolutely no guesses on what he wanted to ask you. When you told him you’d answer anything you’d meant it, but now you weren’t so sure. 

Bakugou began typing a few minutes later.

You waited for his response with bated breath and shaking fingers.

It was a long shot, and you knew it. He’d been so secretive and reluctant to reveal anything about himself, you’d be really surprised if he said yes. You couldn’t help it though, typing out the suggestion the second the thought entered in your head. You wanted to know everything about him. Anything at this point- even if it was just what he sounded like when he spoke.

Bakugou began typing, but deleted his words. He didn’t start typing again.

You sighed, walking away from your phone dejectedly but not altogether that disappointed. You didn’t really have high hopes that he would’ve said yes anyway. You doubted Bakugou wanted to hear your voice as much as you wanted to hear his. 

Over twenty minutes past before your phone started ringing. 

Bakugou :)) - Incoming Call 7:31 PM

You took a shaky breath, unable to tell if your nerves were excitement or anxiety. Seeing the notification almost made you forget almost everything that wasn’t him.

You hit accept, bringing the phone close to your ear and holding your breath. You didn’t want to miss a single thing he said. 

“Hey, dumbass.”

Wow- his voice was not what you expected but definitely what you should’ve. It was low and raspy, deep and guttural; his greeting sounded more like a bark than anything as a result. And he was loud too. So very loud and if you paid extra close attention, maybe a little breathless. 

“Hey, angry man.” You couldn’t keep the joy out of your voice. “Hi.” 

“Oi-idiot. I can hear you fuckin’ smiling. Knock that stupid shit off.”

“Yeah, okay.” Giggling, you shifted the phone from your right ear to your left. “I was just happy to hear your voice at first. I’ll stop now if you want.”

“I- jesus. Fuck. Don’t say embarrassing shit like that again, or I’ll hang up.” His words were fast, and sharp, and loud but you think that maybe you could hear him smiling too. “Got it, shitty woman?”

“Yep. Got it- no smiling, or fun, or laughter or emotion because wet-rag Bakugou said so.”

“Hey! Shut the fuck up! That’s not what I fuckin’ said! I’m not a shitty w-“

“I know, I know, I was joking.” You couldn’t fight the smile stretching your cheeks even wider, but you tried to sober up for him anyways. “Now, c’mon, ask me what you were gonna ask me.”

You heard shuffling on his end, the sound of a door slamming shut, and the flick of a light switch. Otherwise he didn’t say anything.

“Did- did you just switch rooms to ask me?” You asked, nerves beginning to settle in your stomach. “Jeez, how serious is this?” 

Truth be told, you were a little worried now. What kind of question would require a secondary location?

“It’s not- fuck. I did switch,” He shouted, voice still breathless. You couldn’t figure out why though. “But not for that fuckin’ reason, just didn’t want shitty people- nevermind.”

“Wow, that was a whole lot of words there, and most of them were swears.” You couldn’t help teasing, hoping it would lighten the mood. “Very eloquent, Bakugou.”

“Fuckin’ suprised or somethin’? I swear like this over text too, idiot!”

“Yes, yes, I know.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing slightly at just how loud he really was. “Now stop stalling, I wanna know.”

“Are you making demand-“

“Yes.”

“Don’t interrupt me, shitty woman! I’m fuckin’ gettin’ to it, Jesus! Y-you make everything so goddamn d-difficult.”

You were sure now. Bakugou was nervous. Maybe it was the excessive swearing, or the little stutter, or maybe it was the way he spoke his words so quickly that you could tell he forgot to breathe- either way, you knew it for a fact, and it only made your heart grow warmer than it already was. He was just as breathless as you and you found it adorable.

You didn’t say anything in response, instead waiting for him to start speaking again.

“I- shit. I don’t- I don’t know how to fuckin’ ask this without sounding like a pansy-ass!”

“Bakugou.” You nearly snort, already absolutely endeared by him. “C’mon- it’s fine. Just ask, it’ll be okay. What if I promise you I’ll only make you say it once?”

“Only once?”

“Yes, angry man, only once.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear him breathing. Even through the phone, you can tell that his presence is loud- that nearly everything about him must be loud. It makes you wonder what a face-to-face conversation with him would be like. 

You decide then that you’ll do whatever it takes so you don’t have to wonder anymore. So you’ll know for certain exactly what he looks like when he swears and screams so much.

“I wanted- I just-fuck,” His voice is somehow louder, words blurring together as he nearly screams through the speakers. “I wanted to know- I wanted to know if you were mad about that stupid shit I said a few days ago, okay?!”

You blinked slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. What- what was he talking about? A few days ago?

Oh.

You always just run your mouth no matter what I say. So just do that since that’s about the only thing you’re capable of. 

You- you forgot about that until now. Almost completely, like he never even said it in the first place. And truly, at the time Bakugou said it, it did hurt; but not for that long, you knew he was just upset and probably didn’t mean it. So when you told him it was alright, you meant it. It was a shitty thing to say, for sure, but you were a big girl, you could choose your battles, and you could recognize when somebody was irritated- especially someone like Bakugou, who was incredibly obvious about his frustration. 

Still though- why was he still thinking about it? Was he- was he feeling guilty? Was he really worrying about your feelings that much? 

Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Jesus, see, this is why I didn’t wanna fuckin’ say anything!” Bakugou’s shouts interrupt your thoughts. He speaks almost faster than you could keep up with. “Fuckin’ say something already, idiot!”

“No-no, sorry, um,” You place your phone on the ground, turning it on speaker to avoid further hearing loss. “It’s not- I don’t think it’s embarrassing or anything; I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that. I was thinking.”

He goes quiet again- and you think you can hear him huff in frustration.

“You didn’t- you didn’t fuckin’ answer, dumbass. That’s not an answer.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right. It’s not.” You push your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms and pulling them into your body. “I’m not. I’m not upset- we’re good. It was shitty, but I get it, you were mad.”

“Okay. Because I-I didn’t mean it, okay.” Bakugou says, softer this time, but muffled, like he’s got his hand over his mouth. “But, I-I didn’t like care or anything, I only asked because I was just curiou-“

“Curious, huh?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone from dripping into your voice. “So you weren’t even the least bit concerned about my feelings?”

“No!” Bakugou shouts.

You roll your eyes when you hear the sound of a crash, like something fell on Bakugou’s side of the call. It sounded like glass, maybe? You didn’t think it could possibly get any louder, but once again he seemed to make it happen.

“I don’t care or anything, okay? I just didn’t want you to be fuckin’ annoying as shit and still be crying like a little bitch and not be tellin’ me about it!”

“So you want to know if I’m crying or not?”

“Yes- “ Bakugou says immediately, and even you can hear the surprised gasp that leaves his mouth. “No- I meant no! I don’t care, or whatever I-”

“Mhm. Calm yourself, angry man. Whether or not you care, we’re still all good. I’m not crying.” Your tone was indulgent. “But, you know, if you really wanna make it up to me thou-

“I don’t! I’m not- there’s nothing I’m sorry about, idiot!”

“If you really want to make it up to me,” You continued, talking over his complaints without missing a beat. “You could answer something for me.”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, this is easy. Don’t be a wuss.”

“I’m not a fuckin- fine. Go. Ask.” His words are harsh, but the tone of his voice softens just a little. “Just don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.” You laugh under your breath. “I just wanna know- what was it that fell earlier, angry man?”

“N-nothing!” He screams, and you could only imagine just how red he was. “Nothing fell- so, so just drop it!

“Really? Because it sounded sort of like glass?” You snicker, moving to lie down, your head next to the phone. “Are you so nervous that you’re destroying your apartment, Bakugou?”

“I’m not-“

Another crash, and then you hear popping. It reminds you of when you cook bacon on the stove- is he cooking? 

“Fucking goddamit! Fuck-“ Bakugou roars so loudly you swore you could hear the spit in his mouth. The popping abruptly stops. “I’m not fuckin’ nervous! I’ve never been nervous so stop running your mouth and saying stupid shit like that becaus-“

“I’m nervous.” You say, voice small. “You make me nervous.”

There’s silence on the other end, and you think that maybe you made a mistake.

It wasn’t a lie. Bakugou did make you nervous- but maybe it wasn’t the right time to say that? Maybe it was too much vulnerability and he’d hang up out of a sheer discomfort? He was pretty allergic to emotions after all. 

That thought made you frown. Your ear drums might have been screaming for him to leave, but you certaintly weren’t. You liked him and wanted him to stay on the phone- asinine wailing and all.

“Being nervous is stupid, dumbass,” Bakugou bites out, all teeth and huffed breath. “Only stupid people do it. And you’re not actually stupid so you shouldn’t do it.”

You snorted, clasping a hand over your mouth. Of course, that’s how he would respond! It wasn’t clear to you now why you ever thought he’d hang up. Bakugou always seemed to stick around- even if only to make fun of you mercilessly.

“Wow. Thank you, Bakugou. Sage advice.” You laughed.

And then it was like you couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t help it- that was such a Bakugou response and just by virtue of it being that, you found it hilarious. You found him hilarious, and you were so beyond happy to be hearing his voice.

“G-get closer to the phone, idiot. I can barely fuckin’ hear you.” Bakugou suddenly snapped. You heard him take a deep, slightly shaky breath. “If-if you’re gonna laugh like that then at least let me hear it.”

You felt your face warm, heart racing wildly in your chest. “Yeah. Y-yeah, okay. Got it.” 

Grabbing your phone with shaking fingers, you pulled it to your chest, curling around it as you rolled on your side. The floor was slightly uncomfortable, the wood digging into your skin, but you didn’t think anything could’ve made you disrupt this moment. Nothing in the world. 

“Can you hear me?” You asked, utterly breathless and suddenly very shy. 

“Yeah.” He says softly. “I can.” 

And you agree with him- you think that maybe you can finally hear him now too. Yelling and screaming and surprising care and all. 

[talesofstyles]

The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume​ for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h​ for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry’s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it. 

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes. 

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week. 

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a  bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him. 

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be. 

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.” 

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him. 

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe. 

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her. 

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes. 

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness. 

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft. 

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre. 

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers. 

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed. 

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile. 

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind. 

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night. 

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her. 

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows. 

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs. 

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

[yourfangirlfriend]

It’s Nothing Serious - Chapter Two

Chapter One

Warning: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex

It’s not serious.

Two adults can sleep together and be fine. You’ve done it before. It’s kind of nice, actually – you get the milk and don’t have to put up with the emotionally unavailable cow. And even though you’ve only known him for a few weeks, you know that’s what Javier is: emotionally available. Physically available? Different story. He lets you know as much when, after a few more rounds, you start to get dressed.

“So, should I leave the money on the dresser?” you ask as you come back into the room, your skirt crumpled in your hand. He smiles around his third cigarette as you shimmy the skirt back up. You don’t really know why you’re bothering, to be honest- your apartment is five feet away and it’s 3 AM on a Wednesday. Anyone who would see you rush to the door in your underwear probably has a lot more going on than to be distracted by a half nude school teacher doing the world’s shortest slut strut.

“It’s about 100,” he jokes back. You twist your face as you bend down to snatch your shirt from the floor and pull it over your shoulders.

“Pricey, but fair.” Somewhat dressed, you stalk over to his side of the bed and pluck the cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag yourself. His hand comes to rest on your thigh as you exhale.

“This isn’t going to be weird, is it?” you ask, flicking your eyes back down to him. “It was good, but I hope I didn’t lose my smoking buddy.”

‘Buddy’? God. You hang out with kids too much.

He smiles and reaches up to take back the cigarette you hold out. “Don’t worry, hermosa. I don’t scare easy.”

“Friends then?”

His eyes flick up and down your body before falling back on your face. He takes a drag.

“Yeah, friends.”

The way he enunciates tells you exactly what being friends with Javier is going to entail. You smile and bend down, catching his mouth in a quick peck.

“See you later, friend.” You stand up and give him a quick smile before picking up your purse from where you left it by the door and saunter out to the hall.

You don’t see him until the late afternoon Sunday when you take a break from grading to go stand on y’all’s usual spot to light up. He’s already there, smoking a cigarette that’s more ash than tobacco. He doesn’t even look up when you saunter up next to him, your hair up in a nest, and light your own.

“Lot on your mind?” you ask.

“What?” his voice is more on edge than you expected. You frown and gesture to his smoke.

“Think you forgot to ash,” you say.

He huffs and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, pressing it into the concrete on the steps with more vigor than is required.

“Something up?”

“Mind your own fucking business, will you?” he snaps. You physically recoil from him as he starts down the stairs, his hands in his pockets. You’re too stunned to say anything, watching his back until he’s out of earshot. Annoyed, and suddenly not in the mood, you stub out your mostly intact cigarette and head inside.

To be honest, you’re still steaming about it when there’s a knock on your door that night. Already in your sleepwear, you push yourself up from where you’ve been lounging on the couch, reading some trashy paperback you picked up from the airport months ago. You leave against the door, avoiding looking through the peephole – some trick your dad taught you.

“Yeah?” you call out.

“It’s me.”

You frown. You do want to open the door, but there’s a question of self-respect. Do you let the man you’re casually having sex with, who then treated you like shit, into your house, where you know you could happily drop your pants for him once again if he looks at you with even the slightest bit of regret and/or horniness? You’re a strong woman but you’ve been walking funny all weekend, and if you’re honest it’s been pretty nice.

Your indecision speaks for you because from the other side you hear:

“I thought- I’d explain. About earlier.”

Yeah, there goes that resolve. You flick the deadbolt and swing the door open so you’re sat in the doorway, your hand still resting on the doorknob as you consider him with a look you hope is at least a little intimidating, although it’s hard to maintain upon seeing him. He looks rough.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you echo back.

“…What’s up?” he asks.

“Mostly just minding my own fucking business.”

He purses his lips and looks beyond you. “I deserve that.”

A beat passes. You try and keep up your icy, indifferent demeanor, daring him to explain himself, despite the teacher in you wanting to pull him into a hug or potentially ask him to express his emotion through a crayon drawing. Instead, you fight the urge and just raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Can I come in?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment before making a show of stepping aside and waving your hand into your apartment dramatically. He nods before walking in and stopping at the edge of your couch, letting you close the door behind him. He turns around at the sound, his hands on his hips pushing his jacket back just so. You both wait a minute, daring the other to speak, before giving in at the same time.

“Do you want something to drink – “ “I’m sorry about earlier-“

You both stop, waiting for the other to finish. He speaks first.

“Yeah, what you got?”

“Water, beer, or tequila.” You say, gliding past him to the small kitchen that overlooks the living room. You turn back, awaiting an answer. He’s still a thousand miles away.

“Beer.” He says finally. You nod and go to the fridge, retrieving two cans from the bottom shelf. Closing the door with your foot, you walk forward and hold the can out for him. He takes it but doesn’t open it. Annoyed, you make for your spot on the couch and plop down, pulling the tab back as you tuck your legs under you.

“You can sit down,” you say.

As if snapped out of a trance, he comes forward and sits on the opposite end of the couch. In a fluid motion, he opens the beer and throws it back for a long gulp. You study him from your perch, nursing the cold can in your hand. When he finishes his gulp, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The air around the two of you is tense, and the stomach makes your stomach flip.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says. You sit up, prompting him to look up at you. You bring the beer to your lips and take a sip, letting him know he’s got to offer a little more than that. He shakes his head.

“It’s- it’s a shit excuse. It’s just work.” He says.

“Yeah? Did the embassy cut the janitorial budget? No more Comet?”

He shakes his head. “You’re smarter than that,”

You fall silent and look at the space between you. You both know you never bought the excuse he gave you that night out, you just let him have it because it was easier to let him have his secrets, even if he noticed your eyes lingering on the gun strapped to his side when he first went up to the bar.

It was just supposed to be a drink.

Nothing serious.

“I am,” you say, setting your beer on the coffee table. You sit up and wait for him to respond. Instead, he takes another sip of his beer and makes to stand.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you,” he says, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll let you get back to your evening-“

“Javier,” you say. As you see him making for the door, you pounce up and grab his arm. He stills, and you drop it as if you just breached a barrier.

“You’re not bothering me,” you say. “You can tell me…or you don’t have to. It’s fine.”

He turns back and regards you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. In this light, with the beers you’ve had, you feel suddenly so undressed in front of him. You bring an arm up to hold the opposite arm. It makes you feel less exposed

“Friends, remember?” you say, trying to recapture the jokey feeling from the previous night. Trying to make him feel comfortable. Like he can be light in here. With you.

He’s still for a second, but just as quickly as he popped up from the couch he’s got his hands on your face, pulling you into a desperate kiss. It’s messy and hard, but you let him take the lead, opening your mouth when he presses his tongue between your lips.  His hands drop to your waist and clutch at you, pushing your ugly, old University shirt up to touch your skin. Everything feels so urgent like if he let his hold on you relax even a little you’d float away from him. You feel the hardness in his jeans as he holds you against him, and you try to kiss him back with equal ferocity before realizing maybe he needs this kind of harsh control. So you relax, letting him take the lead and paw and gnaw at you. He leaves a trail of harsh, open mouth kisses along your neck that you know are going to leave marks, and you make a mental note to wear a turtle neck tomorrow to avoid the inevitable, unintentionally shaming little innocent voices asking “Señora, qué es esto?”.

Why do little kids notice everything?

Eagerly, as if he’s realized it’s the one thing that’s been keeping him from peace all day, he pulls your shirt over your head and throws it somewhere behind you. You’ve already taken your bra off, and his head dips down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the point before giving it a quick, testing bite. You let out a little gasp as he switches to the other, and for a moment you forget his face at your door – sad, like a puppy dog that got kicked – and the dullness of his voice, so different from just a few days earlier. This feels different too- not so much fun, but release.

You’ll let him have it.

Your knees hit the edge of the couch and, a creative idea coming to your head, you drop from the kiss and sit yourself on the arm, focus now on undoing his belt. Above you he strips his jacket off, dropping it to the floor. You pull the belt out of the loops with all the show of a circus lion tamer cracking a whip and immediately being to pull at the buttons and zipper. Aggressively, -maybe too aggressively, calm down, the dick isn’t going anywhere, Eloise- you pull the jeans down past his ass and lurch forward, catching the head of his cock between your lips and sucking. Above you, he hisses, and you bring your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the top as if it were an extension of your mouth. Gathering spit from the back of your throat, you take him deeper, trying to coat his length. His hands come up to grab at your hair, and you’re encouraged to go faster. Suddenly taking care of him is the only thing that matters anymore. Your other hand reaches forward and presses up against his sac, and the groan from above you is enough of an indication that he approves. You pull him out of your mouth and flick your eyes up forward, holding eye contact as you lick along the side of him. The way his mouth falls open is enough encouragement to return to your work in earnest, and for the next five minutes, you’re working your jaw like a fucking snake – pulling him into the back of your throat, tickling the underside of him all the while before returning to give attention to the head.

Without warning, you feel hands on your shoulders, and before you can protest – no, I want to do this, I want to do this for you – your back is against the leather of the couch cushions. You stare up at him as he finishes undressing, his eyes are so dark and focused as he drops the clothes to his feet. In a fluid motion, he pulls your night shorts and underwear down, depositing them with the rest of his clothes as he crawls over you. You scoot back until your head is pressed against the pillow just fifteen minutes earlier you had nearly fallen asleep drooling on. He hooks your leg up, opening you up for him as he slithers up to kiss you again.

“Are you-?”

“Yeah,” you say.

It’s enough. Seconds later he’s sheathing himself inside of you, and despite yourself, despite that stupid cool disposition you opened the door with, you let out a moan. Harsh fingers grab your chin and pull you back into a kiss, cutting you off as he continues to pound into you at an unforgiving pace. God, it feels good. It’s been years since you’ve had sex without a condom, and you’ve forgotten how nice and right it can feel to have someone inside you without a barrier. You hum into his mouth as he pulls away, dropping his lips to your neck as he continues, hard and unforgiving and perfectly painful in a way that you’ll carry in your walk for a week. Embarrassingly, you’re so wet, and the excess slick only makes the sounds coming from between the two of you more obscene. You clench yourself around him, earning yourself a moan as he sucks a bruise onto your collarbone – it's okay, remember, turtleneck -and bucks into you, faster than before.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he continues. “Fuck!”

“Yeah?” he asks, his hand coming up to grab your breast. He pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and you let out another moan. Instead of answering, you dig your nails into the meat of his ass, urging him forward and deeper into you. It must have an effect because it’s his turn to moan into your ear, for you to hear the string of curse words that tumble from his stupid, perfect mouth. Encouraged, you press against his back, bringing him closer as you ride him from below. He sucks as his teeth and leans into it when you try again. You bend down and suck at the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, doing your best to leave a mark. Fair’s fair.

A few more minutes into this and you don’t think you can hold it off any longer. Opening your legs as much as possible, begging him to go as deep as he can, you finally let your body go. It’s deep and internal, a different sensation than when you’re circling yourself alone in your bed. It seems to pull him deeper and crush him in between the impossibly strong spasms. You let out a little cry, which is all it takes for him to finish. Seconds later you feel him pulse inside you, warmth spreading deep inside of you. He falls atop of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high. You both stay like that for a moment, two sweaty bodies flopped atop of the other, basking in the afterglow. After another minute he pulls back and kisses your chin before pulling himself from you – you’re proud, you only let out a small pathetic sound of disapproval – before he’s up, making for your kitchen. He returns a moment later, a wet rag in his hand. You try not to remember that you used that same cloth to clean up split orange juice that morning as you take it, pressing it between your legs as you sit up. You reach forward for your beer and take a sip as he settles beside you, two cigarettes once again caught between his lips. He lights yours first and passes it to you, which you take gratefully. For a moment, the two of you relax in the afterglow, naked and sweating on your shitty couch, sucking on cigarettes and waiting for your heart rate to go back down.

“I saw a kid get shot,” he says out of nowhere. It's enough to jolt you upward. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring forward, lost in his own thoughts. He brings the cigarette to his lips again.

“…Fuck.” You say. Because what else can you say? Try and make him feel better, tell him you’ve lost students to the same bullshit he seems to be fighting? Yes, that’s always the solution- more dead kids.

“Couldn’t have been older than nineteen,” he says. “Other…kids were there. Saw it.”

You bite your lip and study his profile. You’re not sure what to say. Is there anything? If you were in his position, you’d probably hate someone trying to fill the silence. To make you feel better. Like people can’t just sit with something uncomfortable and true. It reminds you home, of the family you grew up in. You want to show him that isn’t you.

So, you swing your legs onto the ground and move to sit closer to him. He notices but says nothing. The two of you sit in silence, the smoke from your cigarettes intermingling in the smell of sex and sweat that permeates the air around you. He finishes his cigarette first, and you stub yours out – in what, solidarity? – before reaching to catch his hand in your own. He stills, but lets you interlace your fingers.

“You don’t have to-”

“Friends, Javier.” You say again. He turns to look at you and you hold his gaze, daring him to say something against you. A beat passes, and he drops his head. Reaching out, you pull his head to your lips and press a kiss against his temple. Leaning back, you pull him down with you, letting his head lay on your chest as you pull the ratty blanket over the two of you. You listen to his breaths go in and out, as you trace mindless patterns through his hair. After a few moments, his breathing evens out, and you realize he’s asleep. Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and soon follow suit.

The next morning, when you wake up alone on your couch, you try not to let the ache in your chest settle. When you leave that morning, alone for the first time in weeks, you try not to overthink it. And later, then night, when you’re lying in bed and hear another woman’s groans permeate the wall between your bedrooms, you try not to finger the bruises on your neck and ignore the ache between your legs.

It’s not serious.

[fallingappleshurt]

im in the mood for angst, so for your dff au, could you please writing a one shot or smth along those lines of techno coming home from a particularly tough duel and everybody else’s reactions? ty!!! <33

YES HELLO I WRITE

Yes Hello I’m a writer and I forgot about asks but here we go!! I’m sorry this took so long and that it’s really bad but here it is!

This is very poorly edited I’m so sorry lol, this takes place in my dff AU! It’s spunky

And it’s been awhile since I’ve written for this AU so things are a little weird, kind of missed the angst but I got ideas don’t worry

TW: violence, fighting, description of injury but nothing too graphic I think

Dicey Nights

Sword in hand, solid stance, deep breath. He could do this.

Techno tapped his foot anxious against the cement floor, waiting for his opponent to climb over the ropes and enter the arena. The air was thick and hot from the muggy night’s humidity and the crowds incessantly loud cheering. The arena was dimly lit around the stans, all light coming from a giant overhead, casting grimmy light over the blood splatters that stained the rough concrete.

His opponent entered the ring, eyes flashing in the light, lips quirked up in a barely perceptible grin. Techno’s anxiety shot from his stomach to his heart, this man was like a tank, tall with bulky limbs and long flat sword.

Techno pushed his worries away, he had taken on opponents bigger then himself before, just not that big, but they needed the money, he had to win this.

They both walked to the middle of the platform, shook hands, the other man gripping too tightly to be friendly, then they turned and walked back to their starting places.

The buzzer sounded and the man shot forwards, sword swinging in an arch, Techno’s sword clashed with his, metal screeching pierced the air as the man tried to overpower Techno, putting his weight on the sword.

Techno kicked him in the knee, the man sputtered and slipped, allowing Techno to dodge to the side then ram into the man, sending him to the ground. He moved to slash his sword at the man’s neck and fake out the audience then the duel finished, quick and easy if the man stayed down for the three count.

Suddenly the man lashed out and landed a kick square into Techno chest, sending him reeling. Techno scrambled to his feet, stifling a groan. His ribs protesting vehemently, sending shockwaves of fire through his chest, he watched as the other man rolled back onto his feet.

The man, Techno heard the crowd cheering ‘Go Thrasher!’, ran at him again, opting to not overpower him but overwhelm him, he swung wildly, he obviously never had any training.

Techno took the defensive, slash, stab, dodge, block, kick back, and repete, analyzing Thrasher’s fighting style, his patterns and goto movements. Once he memorized the motions he switched to offense, changing his own patterns as well, quick slashes and jabs, forcing Thrasher back, Techno would kick at the man’s legs then go back to swinging.

In a ditch effort Thrasher whipped his sword around only for Techno to kick it out of his hands, sending it flying. Techno slammed into the man once again, taking advantage of his distraction, and knocked him to the ground.

He pointed his sword at the man’s neck, looking down the blade at Thrasher, the crowd around him screaming, “Go Blade go!” He tried to keep his face emotionless, waiting for the announcer to call it off.

Thrasher wasn’t giving up, he kicked at Techno again, who half dodged half stumbled away. Thrasher moved faster then Techno had even seen, Techno lashed out, slicing his arm but it didn’t faze Thrasher. Rage blazing in his eyes he jumped on Techno and knocked him to the ground, half pinning him, a knee on one of Techno’s arms, knocking his sword away.

Thrasher punched him across the face, Techno’s head jerked to the side, pain flaring in his face, nausea rising in his gut as the man reared back and hit him again and again.

Techno weakly grabbed for his sword but came up short, his vision was blurring, hot blood dripped down his face, matting his hair. In a last ditch effort, he threw a punch, aiming for Thrasher's throat, he hit his target dead on and hard.

Thrasher gasped and faltered, his grip loosen and Techno took his chance. He yanked himself away and sent another kick to the man's chest, scrambling towards his sword.

He didn’t know what he was doing, he couldn’t win this, the adrenaline would wear off soon and he’d lose, he wouldn’t be able to fight after this, he’d have to go home empty handed. That thought alone made him feel even more sick.

Thrasher rose to his feet, breathing heavily, Techno got into a weak stance, prepared to go down fighting. You weren’t allowed to kill in the duels but Techno was scared Thrasher would chuck those rules out the window. Thrasher’s fists were clenched, cracked and bloody at his sides, fire in his eyes, he let out a roar. Techno’s grip on his sword tightened and he prepared to swing-

The buzzer sounded.

The fight lasted 10 minutes, the announcer called it a draw. The audience booed and complained as Techno went to shake hands with Thrasher.

Thrasher looked at Techno’s hand in disgust before slapping it away, “You fight dirty, freak.” He growled, Techno scowled but bit his tongue and flipped Thrasher off and stalked off as dignified as he could with the room spinning like a toy top.

He grabbed a bottle of water from the sidelines and chugged it when one of the organizers threw a small pouch at him.

“You’re off your game,” The women commented lazily, not looking up from her clipboard, “I expected better.”

“Then you hop on in there,” Techno grumbled, not making eye contact as he pocketed the pouch, he sheathed his sword.

“I’d rather die,” She said, eyes flickering up from the page, “Just like you almost did.”

Techno snorted, “Please,” He said, shouldering his bag and walking towards the bathrooms, “I neva die.”

He somehow managed to get to the bathroom without collapsing, he pushed open the door and stumbled over to the sinks. He gripped the edge tightly, waiting for the room to stop spinning, he looked up at the mirror and realized he was fucked.

There was a gross cut on his hairline, trickling blood down his face, the right side of his face was covered in blooming bruises, blood from his nose smeared down his chin, he looked like a mess.

He felt like a mess.

Techno grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet then scrubbed it against down his chin and along his hairline, ignoring the sting. He dried his face off then filled up his water bottle, dreading the fact that he couldn’t hide this from his family. He hoped to get home before Wilbur or Tommy woke up, he knew he couldn’t avoid Phil, he got up extra early to be able to commute to work.

Techno started home, not bothering to stay for any other duels, he wouldn’t be able to win, not in the state he was in anyways. He squeezed past the security guards and tried not to fall while walking, the trip home only should have been around forty minutes but between his slow pace and stopping to take breaks so he wouldn’t pass out it took him over 2 hours to get back.

The rusty metal stair squeaked as Techno climbed them, they groaned as he put his weight on the railing, god he wanted to lay down.

He unlocked the door, trying to push it open as quietly as possible, of course the door made that impossible as it creaked loudly.

The door cast a shadow on the soft light coming from the kitchen, Techno could hear dishes clicking quietly.

“Hey Tech,” Phil said, as Techno locked the door again, “You’re back later then usual-” He stopped, staring at Techno’s face, Techno immediately put his hands up, “Now I know what you’re thinking but let me just say; it’s not that bad.”

“Sit,” Phil said, setting his coffee cup down, Techno rolled his eyes, but sat down anyways. “Yeah I saw that coming,”

“Please tell me the other guys looks worse,” Phil prodded at the bruises on Techno’s face, Techno shrugged.

“Please tell me you didn’t get your face fucked up for nothing,”

“I hope? I mean I got a few good hits in, oh that reminds me,” Techno leaned over, rummaging through his bag for money pouch,

He immediately regretted it because it made the room spin again. He grumbled but found the pouch and tossed it on the table.

”It’s not a lot but it’s something,” Techno trailed off, he could have stayed longer, fought harder, been more useful but a few bruises sent him running back home. “I can go back tomorrow, get us more-”

“What? You’re not going back, you look like shit!” Phil said incredulously, checking the cut along his hairline,

“But we need the money,”

“We’ll get by,” Phil’s eyes narrowed, mouth in a tight line.

“That’s a lie-”

“No it’s not,”

“Phil I’m not stupid we need more and I can go back, tonight was just an off, when I go back I can get us more-”

“You’re not going back!” Phil said firmly, “You’ll get hurt again-”

“It’ll be worth it-”

“No! It’s not! Nothing is worth you getting this hurt!” Phil snapped, he took a breath, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry it’s- it’s just not worth it, you need to be okay too, you deserve to be okay.”

Techno sat there, not sure what to say. Phil looked at the clock and swore under his breath, “Shit, I’m gonna be late,” He grabbed his coat, “I’ll see you later, take it easy, alright?” Techno nodded as Phil walked out the door.

He sits there for a minute, not sure what to do, he wants to sleep for 45 hours but he is also hungry. He opted to grab a banana when he hears Wilbur yell from the other room;

“Tommy brush your hair!” The bedroom door opened, “No! It looks fine!” He didn’t notice Techno as he walked into the bathroom, Wilbur followed him out a moment later.

“Hey Wil,”

“Hey Tech, you're up earlier and oh my god are you okay?” He trailed off to the next point, gesturing gingerly at Techno’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine, I promise,” Techno said again, putting his hands up and rolling his eyes. Wilbur nodded, they stood there for a moment before Wilbur asked;

“Did Phil flip out?”

“Oh yeah definitely,”

“Well, at least something’s normal,” Techno snorted.

“Hey Wilbur, we’re low on toothpaste again-” Tommy said, coming out of the bathroom, he looked at Techno and trailed off.

“Uh, Techno, You’ve got a little something,” Tommy gestured to his own face, hand hovering over the whole right side, “on your face, like everywhere.”

Techno snorted and smiled softly, “Thanks for telling me nerd,”

“What happened?”

“Not important,” Techno said, grabbing an orange from their fruit bowl, tossing it at Tommy, who caught it with ease, “What is important is that you’re gonna be late for school, now get going.” He hadn’t told Tommy about the arena fights, he didn’t know how Tommy would react and he didn’t want to encourage it or risk it.

“No I’m not, you’re just avoiding the question!” Tommy protested, jamming his finger into the skin of the orange.

“You sure about that?” Techno nodded to the clock on the wall, 7:06.

“Oh shit, I gotta go,” Tommy said, Wilbur slapped the back of his head, “Language,”

“What come on! You say it all the time!”

“Yeah cause I’m older then you, now grab your shit,”

“Now you're just rubbing it in!” Tommy said, grabbing his backpack off the hook by the door.

“You’re right, now let’s go, I’ll walk to you,” Wilbur stopped in the doorway, Techno could hear the creaks of the stairs as Tommy jumped down. Wilbur looked at Techno, eyes soft.

“Go to sleep Tech, you look like you need it,”

“Well I was going to but now that you said that, I think I’ll stay up,” He teased, Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“If you aren’t asleep by the time I get back I will crush you,”

“I’d like to see you try,” Techno shot back as Wilbur closed the door, locking it.

The banana forgotten and set back on the counter, Techno slipped his shoes and laid down, hoping the others wouldn’t worry too much, he fell asleep almost immediately.