#characters take a back seat often. there's way too many of them

[thefirstknife]

Posts like these are really getting to me because they confidently state things without actually knowing what any of this means. This is not helping to parse through criticism and feedback, nor is it helping anyone to understand how writing for video games work.

Specifically for this post, this is a posting for a new position. Bungie is not firing anyone and writers aren't leaving in droves; Bungie is simply in the position to open many new positions (Sony money helped) and they've been hiring new people for months now, in all departments. They are currently hiring more people for the narrative team.

A narrative design document is not a one and done thing. This franchise is 8 years old and story and lore are being developed over time. This is how storytelling works, especially for big live service game franchises. A narrative design document is also being developed over time, it can be added to and it can change with the changing mechanics, gameplay, direction and player population.

This listing specifies that the job requires you to aid in that development. It doesn't mean that the narrative design document doesn't exist. And it certainly doesn't mean that a narrative design document changing or being added to is wrong or strange. It also probably doesn't mean what you think "narrative design" means. I'll get to that later.

This particular listing is also a smaller role, as per the intro:

In this role you will work closely with the various small teams within systems to write strings for rewards and collaborate on narrative context for features. This includes being an advocate for Franchise narrative goals and collaborating with the Expansion and Seasonal teams to help support their creative goals through your content.

This isn't a big writing position. First example of what the job is:

Work with the Systems team to write compelling strings for gear and features

Only occasionally write actual dialogue:

Occasionally create captivating activity dialogue and cinematic content that remain on tone with the established style of the franchise and the product 

Improvements should definitely be made and Bungie at this point needs a much more solid narrative design document due to the incredible amount of accumulated lore and gameplay mechanics over the past 8 years. Which is the point of looking for more people to help in that section. This is a good thing.

All writing will always develop over time, but especially the writing for live service games. A narrative design document is an ongoing project. It is literally impossible to develop something like that once and never touch it again. Perhaps for one-shot singleplayer games, but even then narrative changes throughout development in ways we don't even see.

Also, as I said earlier, "narrative design" is not what people think it is. Especially not for video games. A really in-depth article about narrative design, how it works and how to do it. Incredibly relevant bit:

In an MMO, we see a lot more emergent storytelling, or rather stories that emerge over time from the interaction between players and the world. It’s a call and response where fan theories emerge, and the MMO responds to them.

Narrative design itself is not just "people writing a story." Narrative design can often be done without any writing:

Simply put, narrative design is the use of story to make sense of gameplay in a video game. Like a novelist, the narrative designer focuses on elements such as structure, character, and setting, but the key difference is that the hero in the story is the player and their experience is interactive.

And:

The narrative designer’s role on a team is much more than just being a good writer and storyteller. The narrative designer works with her team to build a world, inventing characters and events, and reconciling mechanics or rules. The job is part writing and part championing the importance of story throughout the process of making a game.

And more:

Narrative design is all about the intentional use of story and the flow of the game, either linear or nonlinear. More than merely story building, narrative design is about world-building. It’s an evolving art form, and with the development of AI and virtual reality, it’s becoming much more immersive.

On top of that, narrative design is still a new concept in video games:

Narrative designers are still quite a new concept in game creation. Hiring professional writers might seem like an obvious thing to do, but for years developers and producers have been writing storyline and dialogue. There are some old attitudes about the role that can make it difficult for a narrative designer to integrate well into a team. But integrate you must.

More stuff about what narrative design is and what it does (sorry this one is in French for the most part).

There's always feedback and criticism to give Bungie when it comes to lore. Them hiring more people for narrative design is not it. Like, Bungie being interested in fixing and mitigating these issues to combat things we have problems with is a direct opposite of criticism. They're actively hiring for narrative design. That's a good sign.

A lot of criticism often comes from the fundamental misunderstanding of how video game writing works, and especially how live service writing works. Over 8 years, there will be new information and even contradictory information to what was said previously. This isn't always a retcon. And even if it is, it's not always a bad retcon. Retcons are not inherently negative.

Most importantly, over 8 years, gameplay will change. And narrative design is about merging and making sense of the story and gameplay combined with the player involvement.

A lot of people complain because some aspect of the story is no longer the same as it was described when D1 launched. This is normal. New information being revealed is a good thing. Stories are not static, worlds are not static and characters are not static. Sometimes characters are mistaken or they lie. Sometimes things seem one way but they are another way. This is instrumental in creating a world that feels real. Because that's what happenes in reality. People are sometimes wrong in how they interpret the world around them.

Sometimes this will fall flat on some players or even all players (when it falls flat for the majority, that's usually when the game dies or is struggling; this happened to D1 Y1 and D2 Y1). In live service and ongoing projects, there will always be people who just don't vibe with the new direction or new information. New reveals can be off-putting to some and that's completely normal. It doesn't mean there's an objective fault with the writing though.

This is all a part of the narrative design, including how to tie all of these things into gameplay and player experience. This is a forever ongoing project in MMOs.

[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[sleepyangelkami]

Hi!! Could I request a fic about Carl and aftercare? Your writing is so good I’m jealous‼️

DESTRUCTION AND REPARATION c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.3K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - when everything is said and done, carl wants to make sure you know you still are and always will be his precious girl.

 ☆ WARNINGS - mentions of sex, illusion to sex, aftercare, sexual themes, aged up characters, dom!carl, sub!reader, hickies, nudity, vulnerability, bathing as a couple, kinda real world!au, praise, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

descruction and reparation.

in carl's terms, the act of destroying you until you were nothing but a toy at his will to do whatever it was he wanted with you. then building you back up and showing you that no matter the hour, you were truly the only girl in the world that mattered.

his breath was heavy as he relaxed himself against the bed. it was like a ritual every time it happened, no matter the position you found yourself screwed up in. he'd lay next to you, long fingers coming to brush the hair away from your face.

"hey, pretty girl." he practically cooed at the sight of you. you were so fucked out, breathing heavy with swollen lips. there were many marks and traces he'd left down your neck, across your stomach and between your thighs. he couldn't help but admire them while he studied you. "you okay? everythin' feel good?" his voice was low, like a soft whisper that could have lulled you to sleep.

when carl was finished with you, after you'd lost count of the rounds and he knew you were done it was hard not to take you into his arms and allow them to swallow you whole. "mhm." was your response, though behind the tiredness there was a type of contentedness. you always felt that when you and carl were finished.

you could have opened your mouth to spill every little detail on how you felt, god knew you liked to talk.

but now, in the afterglow with the only light source in the room being the little fairy lights overhead, you found your mind so tired that you couldn't will yourself to speak even if you'd wanted to.

his fingers traced against your skin, eyes never leaving your pretty face.

carl liked taking his time having his way with you. he liked to do it at his own pace, flipping you in every position, letting out all his stamina and making you both feel as though you were on fire.

he loved hearing your whimpers and whined, watching your back arch against the bed and listening to himself unravel you completely.

but this as your body lay still next to his own, eyes peering up at him with love and adoration, this is all he'd never needed.

his face came down, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your forehead. "c'mon, bath time." you made an effort to groan to which the boy merely moved his kiss to your lips, dragging you up from the bed.

he did what he said he would, drawing a bath for you both.

this was not a new thing he'd begun. it was often that you'd take a bath together after everything was said and done but that didn't mean you'd ever get used to the low energy needing a spike to get to the bathroom, despite the fact carl was practically carrying you, wedging you in the door and making you sit on the porcelain toilet seat while he ran the bath. he even added that scent that you liked, the one he claimed made him smell like a girl. he'd just have to make sure he lathered on his spray afterwords.

not much was said, carl helping you into the bath as he climbed in after you, sitting with your back to his front, holding you close.

during bath's like these, carl paid extra attention to your body. it wasn't so much about cleaning. i mean, sure, you got clean some way or another, he'd lather on the scented soap, doing it to himself too. but that wasn't the point of the baths.

the low "love you." that you mumbled as you pressed yourself close to him or the soft sniffle as you tried to wipe away the tiredness from your eyes.

the soft "i love you too." he'd murmur back, soft hands caressing your body, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "beautiful girl." he'd mumble before correcting himself. "my beautiful girl."

that was the whole point of this.

no matter the sex, rough, soft, quick and easy, hard, long. whether or not you came out teary eyed or not, he didn't care. at the end of the night, just the two of you relaxing in the porcelain bath tub was all he'd ever need.

"did so good." he'd praise softly in your ear, as if not to disturb the peace you had, as if he'd ever let you fall asleep in the bathtub. he was always gently tapping your face with his fingers, not allowing you to sleep. but it was so hard, the hot water and his voice lulling you ever so gently. "such a good girl."

he'd wash your body for you, taking extra care in the places you need, careful when passing your bruises and your fucked out cunt.

if he could, he'd keep you in the bath even when the water went cold.

but by the time he was helping you out, you couldn't even complain. you were more excited about getting beneath his blue covers than anything before.

"c'mere." holding the towel around your body. "let me." never allowing you to do anything for yourself. he made sure you were well taken care of in any way you could ever possibly need. he dried down your body, leaving you in it while he grabbed the pijamas on the island of the sink, dressing you.

your cotton long pijama bottoms and the t-shirt with short sleeves were over your body within a matter of seconds.

"so good f'me." his lips pressing a line down your exposed neck, pushing your damp hair out of the way so you didn't have to deal with it any longer.

he'd praise you until the night was up. the two of you, clad in fresh cotton pijamas beneath those ugly navy blankets that he owened, cuddled up while the pictures moved against the screen.

at a time like this, you were fragile, that much he was well aware of. this is why he didn't speak many words, turning on the tv to the show he knew you liked or the new one you'd both been watching together. his fingers would twist your hair, curling it around his fingers and letting it drop. or perhaps his fingers were drawing lines up and down your arms? shapes against your back? whatever he was doing to you, it was soothing enough for your eyes to flutter shut.

"know her from somewhere." you'd mumble, all dazed as you tried to make out the familiar face on the screen.

"yeah?" he'd murmur back, gentle kisses against the slope of your neck, so soft against the earlier bruises. "from where baby?"

he'd hear that little mumble back from you, a practical babble. you babbled until your voice ran out. could he understand or make out a word you were saying? ... definitely not the point.

though he wasn't too worried, knowing you were much too tired to remember it by morning.

even as you finally drifted off into a sleep, he'd never stop those gentle kisses, soft murmurs, what a pretty way to drift in and out of consciousness.

he did it not because he knew you loved it or because he felt obliged to. he did it because he loved you, through the dawn and the dusk, no matter the hour of the day or night, no matter the things you were up to.

he'd trade the moon and the stars for moments like these.

though they seemed almost cheap, compared to you.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[em-dash-press]

Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories

Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 

The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 

1. Start a New Chapter

Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.

Ideas to End a Chapter

The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)

The characters end a conversation

One character informs another of a plot twist

Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash

2. Emphasize the Season

You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.

If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.

3. Visualize a Movie Montage

Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 

You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.

Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.

Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:

One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.

My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.

My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.

4. Showcase Some Confusion

Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.

These are some examples:

I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?

The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?

Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.

5. Employ a Phrase

There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:

Later that morning

A few weeks later

After months of trying

Six hours later

The following week

As the store closed for the night

-----

There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 

Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.

[itoshi-s]

wld u have any input on perv!reo w an innocent/oblivious reader??

──✧ ˚ · “ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

*.✧ ft. 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞

*.✧ wc: 10.1k. nsfw & dark content / 17+ only / minors dni ! - fem reader, characters are 18+ (but meet as teenagers), dub-con, slow burn, reo's a whore and a sleaze, manipulation, corruption, slight obsessive behavior, misuse of power (reader sees reo as kind of a brotherly figure), cunnilingus, reo's needy, mentions of taking unsolicited sex pics, panty stealing. // notes: reo is either a perv or a sub and there's no in between ! reo fuckers enjoy (☆ω☆)

the first time reo sees you, he’s barely fourteen and  it’s in his family home, sitting straight in your seat at the dining table.

you look gorgeous with your big, curious eyes, long lashes, and a lip balm giving your pout a pink sheen. you’re different from all the other girls he’s seen around at school - you don’t try to look older, and actually look your age. a nice change for once. he steals a few glances upon your way from his seat diagonally across, fork digging into the tender steak on his plate. it was nice for a change to not be the only teen at the table, and actually, it was a bit surprising too. your parents were frequent guests at his house, due to the many links between their company and mikage corp, but this was the first time you tagged along. actually, reo doesn’t think he’s ever heard them mention having a daughter - but then again, his head is always anywhere but here, at the table, when the adults discuss over business details and joke around topics that make his head ache and confusion settle on his features.

“what about you, love? got any plans for the future?” reo moves his eyes from his glass of juice to his mother upon hearing her address you. she’s so sweet, just like always. 

you blink once, twice, and nod quickly, “oh- oh, yes, actually. i want to help people.” you beam, the smile you’re sporting making your cheeks plump and full. “maybe, um, set up a foundation, or something? i dunno, like the one that organized the ball a week ago, right papa?”

reo has to hold back a roll of his eyes, the interest you first sparked in him long gone. now this was something he’s heard from about every other girl he knows - the other option either being fashion or a family company heir, just like him. you sound a bit clueless, too, the sheepish tone of your voice making you seem even more childish. (not like he’s grown up, of course, but then again, you’re even worse.) 

despite how cute you are that day, reo doesn’t feel any interest in you whatsoever. the reason behind why you looked so innocent compared to his other friends, who already started to experiment with makeup and more mature clothing, doesn’t make it any easier to like you either. you are a year younger, and from what his mother tells him once you leave, your parents are very strict on keeping you unscathed by the pressure social media and society puts on young girls. now the thought of you hanging out at his place more often sounds so nohow, it doesn’t even make him excited to finally have some company. you seem immature and a bit naive, and while reo’s anything but aloof, he doubts that he’ll ever get along with you.

or, at least, so he thinks after the night you first meet. as expected, you start coming over to his place more often, now that a brand new deal between your families is about to be signed. while your parents discuss future plans over wine, reo is shocked to hear that for once, maybe he can show you around the house instead of sitting next to them and getting familiar with the investments. 

you’re not actually that insufferable, reo realizes after several long hours of you hanging out together in his room. you have an older brother that’s a professional volleyball player now, and he sees the longing in your eyes when you mention him playing overseas. it sparks his interest, how your brother began his career when he was just about his age - he had everything a teenage boy could ever dream of, and yet, he’d rather move to the other side of the world to chase a dream that didn’t gave him any certainty. the more you talk, the softer and less infantile you seem - reo realizes that you actually do know a lot about worldwide humanitarian issues, a lot more than any other kid your age. he listens intently as you tell him about the things you like to do after school, about the many hobbies your parents put you on, and somehow, you manage to find a common ground. you talk and game and laugh for hours, until the night falls and your mum comes up to reo’s room to collect you. 

reo gives you a little wave goodbye, and from now on looks forward to your visits - for a while.

years pass by, and while reo manages to keep up his spot on top of his every class, all while meeting up with friends and traveling the world with his parents, you just seem… the same. yeah, you got smarter - a scholarship from the states being the best proof - and prettier, too, which reo is sure other boys notice as well. but you still have this little dreamy edge to you, your laugh all too high pitched and random at times, and you still blush profusely whenever a boy comes anywhere near. you’re still nice, but just not as fun to be around; you're different, than him and the other girls he knows and starts to surround himself with. it’s not your fault either, as reo figures it must be your parents keeping you away from all the opportunities - better or worse - that teenagery has to offer. you’re busy with the scholarship now, thinking of going on a student exchange to the usa, even, and while reo sees it as praiseworthy, you two just seem to lose the common language you once had. 

second year of highschool comes by, and you’re merely just a thought at the very back of reo’s head when he meets nagi. the two get along as if they’ve known each other their whole lives, even though seishiro needs a little (uh, maybe a bit bigger) push, and the friendship and newly found passion about football gets reo going. he doesn’t even see you around too often anymore, considering he’s barely at home after school, and even if he is, the time is spent on arguing with his parents. the only times he remembers about you is when you’re brought up by his father - a prime example of how one should take advantage of the privileges they were born into, instead of picking up a worthless dream. he knows you’ve got nothing to do with this, and yet still, the thought of you makes reo hurl.

reo doesn’t really miss you a lot during his time at blue lock - and he doesn’t think it’s anything harsh, considering you were barely good friends and only ever hung out when your parents did, and it was still long years ago, back before you two even properly hit puberty. there’s enough going on during the selections to keep his mind busy and muscles taut with stress - he doesn’t need any interruptions in getting to the top and so, the thought of you is pushed to the very back of his mind. it only ever changes the day of the u20 match, when the buzz of the blue lock’s team victory is still making his skin crawl and blood rush. he’s tired, his legs feel like jelly, and yet, he still makes out the familiar voice from the front row stands as he goes to leave to the locker room.

“reo!” he turns his head upon his name being called out, brows furrowed as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. he recognizes the sing-song voice, but the memory is a bit blurry as violet eyes scan through the crowd and eventually fall upon the hand vigorously waving around - moving down, they lock with your bright orbs, a vibrant grin on your lips.

to say that he’s surprised to see you is an understatement - he takes a quick glance around you to check if you’re there with your parents, but he sees that you’re in fact alone. must’ve been your idea now, wasn’t it? reo jogs over to the barriers, and only after closing the distance between the two of you does he notice the changes in your appearance that must’ve happened over the past few months. 

he spots the way your features look way more mature now, and how you seem to finally have started to accentuate them with the right makeup. your skin still has the girly glow to it, though, or it might just be the wide smile on your face that’s lighting it up - either way, you definitely look even prettier than the last time reo has seen you, which must’ve been around his sixteenth birthday. 

“you won!” you exclaim happily, leaning against the barriers and reaching a hand out to high-five him once he’s in arms reach. he’s a bit hesitant, but only out of surprise.  “thought they would never bring you out,” you quip, watching reo roll his eyes. geez, thanks. “doesn’t your head hurt from that save?” your dainty fingers touch at reo’s reddened forehead, and it makes a foreign flutter wake in his chest. 

“not really,” he shrugs, letting you ruffle his hair slightly. were you really that touchy with him these few years ago, back when you were children? he can’t recall. “what’re you doing here anyway?” he rubs at his eye, the other one glancing up at you curiously. from his spot under the bleachers, he has just the perfect sight of your cleavage - and usually it wouldn’t affect him in any way, but to his surprise, his gaze is met with bare skin. reo has to swallow thickly upon the initial startle, eyes momentarily locked with the gold  necklace that he now remembers you wear even years ago - but this time, it rests right between the valley of your perky breasts, barely visible from the spot where your tits squeeze together. fuck - he knows that puberty can be a blessing sometimes. but could that really be the same you?

your voice brings him back to the present, gaze quickly tearing away from your chest, “i could finally see you play, reo! i never even heard you mention soccer,” you state, voice falling a bit near the end of the sentence. almost as if you regretted the way your friendship turned out. “do you still have the same number?” the question brings a hopeful tilt to your voice, and it makes reo smile a bit. there it is - the same awaiting, sweet sound.

“yeah,” he replies, looking up to lock his eyes with your doe ones. the clumpy, thick mascara on your lashes really does the trick, he thinks as he watches your lips stretch in a smile. “i don’t have my phone on me at blue lock, though - but we will catch up once i’m back, yeah?” now you were not the only one that has undergone a major change throughout the years, and while reo didn’t look all that different, there was definitely a shift in his personality. yeah, he was still real sweet with everyone, barely ever getting into any fights or arguments and staying on good terms with pretty much everybody. he always could have any girl he wanted - could pick and choose from tens of them at school, and then everywhere else he went - and yet, not even one of them grew suspicious of the way he is. not one of his previous girlfriends or the ones he only hung out with once or twice seemed aware of how his eyes naturally rested lower than on their face when they spoke. they only grew giddier at the way his hands would grope at the soft fat of their tits, their hips, squeezing at their bottom in a way that made their head spin - in a way they’ve already heard from their friends, who also got lucky enough to catch reo’s attention. maybe they were also just glad that it was finally their chance, and didn’t give his hungry touches any second thoughts? maybe they really did think that he was just like all the other horny teenagers, buzzing with hormones, and that his long days of practice only spurred him on even more.  sometimes, reo was surprised, even, at how quickly they would respond to his sly texts, a picture attached with no trace of shame. did they ever let the thought of him keeping these pictures linger, or were they really just this dumb?

the more recognition he gets thanks to the blue lock project and neo egoist league, the larger his range of possibilities grows. there’s girls flooding his dm’s, his name being thrown around different thirst tweets, and yet, it’s not like reo’s not used to it already. he's turned eighteen barely a few months before the blue lock project, and so he's already had plenty of time to finally let up all of this pent up tension. he meets up with a few girls during his breaks, spends the night, and is off early morning - with a pair of lace knickers in his back pocket, if he’s lucky (and the girl oblivious enough). some of them don’t even notice the flash going off as they ride him, their back to his face, taking just a little memoir to keep locked under a passworded folder in his gallery - something that he can play back in his mind, when he’s back at the blue lock facility, alone in the showers.

between his little hook ups, he still finds the time to keep his promise - and drives over to your house, which he is a little surprised to find with no sight of you the first time he comes by. “oh, she’s living on her own now! had to move closer to her university.” oh. "she'll be so happy to see you, though, reo! it's been ages since i've seen you, too." to say that he’s shocked by your mother’s words is an understatement - hell, you could even fly a private helicopter to uni each and every day if you only ever wished for it - so did your parents, always so overprotective, really let you move out and start living by yourself? nonetheless, reo is actually kind of content to be hanging out with you again. (the way you carry yourself, so soft and sweet as if your looks weren't enough to fill any guy's thoughts with pure filth, might just be the main reason.) he learns that you got into the university of tokyo on top of the acceptance list and are floored with not only work, but also the uni life that everyone else has been telling you about. ah. so that’s where the sudden change in looks came from, he realizes as you tell him about how happy you were that your best of friends managed to get in with you.

“she’s so cool! i think you would’ve liked her, reo,” you tease, a grin on your lips as you tell him about one of your friends and even go to show him her instagram pictures. he hums, “yeah, she's-" "if only she wasn’t into older guys.” you elbow him in the side with a giggle, and it makes him wonder how to wrap his head around the dissonance you’re giving him.

reo starts to feel less and less surprised with the way you turned out the more you tell him about the girls you befriended in high school, and then the ones you were hanging out with in your sorority house as well. you’ve always been kept in a bubble, as your parents’ greatest treasure - their sweetest little girl, as if you weren’t in your golden age to start experimenting with life and all it had to offer. it was honestly only a matter of time until you slipped away, the blinders your parents wore making them oblivious to your newly born adventurous nature. she’s not like that, he bet they’d say. have you seen her? she’s as innocent as they get! how the hell you managed to stay just that way, reo couldn’t figure out for the life of him. you’re wearing the skimpiest skirts he’s seen on a girl in a long time, your tits spilling out of your top, lashes curled to the heavens and yet, when you look at him, you have the same childish excitement in your doe-like eyes - and it feels as if you haven’t grown at all from when he first met you.

you were never really insufferably dumb to begin with, and reo knows that. your parents made sure you got the greatest education possible and you were a straight A student, keeping interest in many fields - starting from finances and economics, through arts and finishing at high tech. maybe that’s what makes it so appealing and easy to talk to you, spending long hours on bickering and discussing, even though your mind seems so, so much more innocent than his - hell, than any other girl’s your age, too. whenever he slips a dirty joke in the conversation, you frown slightly, a pout on your lips as if asking, what do you mean, reo?, and it doesn’t make any sense to him. yet again - how can that be possible, with the way all of your little friends are carrying themselves?

you start spending more time with each other, considering how close your condo is to the blue lock facility, and it becomes a little routine for him to come right over to your place whenever he gets a few days of break. you spend the time watching tv shows, stuffing your face full of snacks, going to the arcade and gossiping about reo’s teammates or whatever one of your girlfriends did since the last time you two have seen each other.

“m’so happy we’re friends now, reo,” you mumble one night, curled up to his side on the couch, nearly dozing off with some random action movie playing from the flat screen tv. “y’remind me of him so much, yanno?” 

ah, so there it is - the reason behind you always staying hooked to his arm. even though you were coming from a very similar background as him, reo was still a little more experienced in life - having seen more, thanks to the blue lock, among other things - and after all, he was a year older than you, wasn’t he? he carried himself with this confident, yet playful smile all of the time, and made everyone in his company feel warm - very much like your older brother did. thanks to him (or more like your stories about him), reo manages to get a good glimpse at how a sportsman’s life really looks like - how even though your family was so close, his visits happen thrice a year at most, and it leaves you missing him so bad, he even has to comfort you and wipe away your tears on one of your movie marathon nights.

sometimes, it seems like there’s two sides to him. one, that makes every girl’s knees buckle at just one glance; and the other, showcased by a bright grin and giddy behavior. either way, reo doesn’t really think of himself badly. it’s not like he’s doing any of it against the girls’ wishes, isn’t it? some would even consider it a good deed, even, he’s pretty sure, with the way he’s the very first one to be touching them that way, taking their innocence away. the only time he ever starts to feel guilt eating away at his insides is when the same filth spills all over his mind, clouding over his senses whenever you are around.

it’s been a year since the neo egoist league has ended - a year full of you, amongst soccer and other things that tore his mind and body down with exhaustion. movie nights, adventure parks, helping you study, going to frat parties with you, even - cause none of the girls are comin’, reo, please, just this once! - as if he really needed any convincing to come. some of the guys there were his high school friends, he realized, and so the thought of catching up with his old colleagues made the party even more appealing. (not to mention the tens of girls that would kill to have him lick the salt off their tummy, the tequila on his tongue bringing a bitter taste to their mouth as they kissed later - one of his favorite party activities, honestly, considering how hard it made him in his pants.) 

the first time it happens, reo’s by the makeshift bar, chatting up with a friend he used to sit with at chemistry lab as he pours them a drink - and his head lazily tilts to the side upon hearing your voice calling out to him.

“reo!” you sound as excited as always when addressing him, and he has to chuckle at the way you stumble over your own feet as you strut over to his spot by the bar. “reo, we’re- we’re playing beer pong. wanna team up w’me?” 

the amused laughter dies down in his throat as his eyes zero in on your cleavage, the fat of your tits jiggling with each step you hurriedly take towards him. he sees the slight sheen of sweat, watches the way it reflects the neon lights, how it accentuates the glitter of the body spray you put on right before you left the house. reo is glad he has his hand stuck in his pocket, cause now he can quickly fix his hardening dick without making it suspicious - he gives himself a slight squeeze and clears his throat as you approach him.

you smell of coconut, and the scent overwhelms his senses as soon as you press yourself up against him - a giggle leaving your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in to press a wet kiss to his cheek. “pretty, pretty please? y’know i’ve never ever played it, and if i lose it’ll make me a loser, won’t it now, reo,” you babble on, a laugh leaving your mouth as his friend gives your nose a flick. he must’ve told you something amusing, reo supposes, but the both of you are drowned out as blood thuds in his ears - as it throbs in his pants, cock aching by how ridiculously hard it got at the feeling of you pressed up against him. he feels your tits as they squish against his chest, feels the rumble of your laughter, the flutter of your lashes against his neck-

“‘xcuse me,” he mumbles, hurriedly, and pries your arms off - earning a surprised look from you (and a cute drunken stumble). making his way through the crowd, the smell of spilled liquor and sweat and mixed perfume makes his head even dizzier, to the point that he’s stumbling into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

one hand works on turning the lock while the other undoes the button of his plaid gray pants, a shaky groan slipping past his lips at the crumb of relieved tension. he dips a hand past the waistband of his boxers and pulls his throbbing cock out, thumb smearing the milky white pre-cum all around the reddened tip as he grabs onto the sink tightly for support.

“shit,” reo nearly whines at the image playing out in the very front of his mind. it’s almost like he can still inhale you, feel you as the heat of your body against his turns his legs to mush. he bites down on his lip, hard, in an attempt to quiet down the needy gasps that leave his mouth every so often, with every jerk of his hand. he tightens his grip on the porcelain, wrist flicking hurriedly and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut, strands of violet hair falling over his forehead as he groans quietly. please, pretty please, reo. it reverbs in his ears, but this time, it’s breathy, needy - as he imagines you giving him your prettiest wide eyes, tears sticking to your lashes, mascara running down your cheeks as he holds your thighs wide open, watching the way your pussy struggles to fit him in-

“ah- fuck, take it-” a mewl-like sound catches in his throat, toned abs spasming as white spills all over the bathroom sink. he struggles to catch his breath, hips needily thrusting into his hand as he rides out the high that leaves a loud ringing in his ears. throwing his head back, he groans softly as he feels the thick cum pool on his fingers, dripping down onto the pearly white porcelain - staining it with filth.

 it takes him a breather to finally flutter his eyes open, the bring white light stinging the bloodshot orbs - and he hums to himself, softly, a sigh following soon after as his shoulders relax. he lets go of the edge of the sink and instead turns the faucet on, cleaning his hands off any filth and patting any residue off his cock with a paper towel in relative silence. a random tune booms through the speakers outside, but the bathroom door do their job mellowing it out as he cleans after himself, taking his time to fully come down his high.

the realization only hits him when he’s finished zipping his pants back up and about to fix his hair, glancing up at the mirror - and sees the red tint on his cheeks and blood clinging to the torn skin of his bottom lip, glossy eyes staring right back at him.

maybe he is a bit fucked up, after all.

you wake up in your bed the next morning, a glass of water along with a tablet of aspirin left on your bedside table. loser :p, the note stuck right next to it says, and you honestly wish you remembered what the little joke is about. 

“this is so embarrassing,” you whine into your pillow a few hours later and reo chuckles under his breath at the way your legs kick out, body overcome with shame. “i can’t remember a thing! i don’t know what i was even doin’ most of the night,” you mumble, eyes almost teary as you pull your face away to give reo a discontented look. he hums softly, glancing over at you just for a split second before focusing back on the stocks on his phone screen.

“see, that’s why i told you not to drink this much.” he says matter-of-factly, “you’re lucky i was there. you never know who’s at the party with you, kiddo, so you need to stay aware at all times.”

now, reo has to admit that the sight of your eyes glazing over with tears, a subtle pout on your lips, shouldn’t be making him feel as hot as it does - and yet, he continues, and digs the hole underneath you even deeper. 

“there’s many bad guys around and you know it,” he mumbles, lilac eyes momentarily catching yours. you gulp and pull your knees up towards your chest for comfort, tears of shame tingling at your lashes. “you’re a smart girl, after all, yeah?”

were the things he said true? definitely - especially for such pretty and sweet girls like you, too good for your own good. but were you really in any danger last night, with him keeping an eye on you the whole time (except for his little… getaway)? not really - but seeing the anxious expression on your face was worth it. sometimes, it made reo feel like he should just grab you by the shoulders and tell you that you had to grow up eventually, for your own safety and comfort. but then again, he doubted it’d even work anyway, and besides, the adrenaline rush he experienced each and every time he instilled a crumb of fear in your heart was just too good to let pass.

it does feel good to have you cling to him even tighter, after all, he figures as you climb on his lap weeks later asyou two hang out in the evening. your hair blocks his view of the game he’s watching, but it only takes a little squirming for you to get fully comfortable and allow him the full look on the tv screen.

“who’s playing today?” you chime in, leaning forward to grab a handful of popcorn. reo’s voice catches in his throat, unable to help the way his eyes cast down, to where your ass is pressing firmly against his crotch and thighs. the waistband of your shorts sticks away from your flesh, allowing him to take a peek of the thin elastic of your thong - bright purple, just like his eyes. it makes him shudder.

“real madrid and barcelona,” he mumbles, clearing his throat and his hand almost flies down to cup his growing bulge in a weak attempt to hide it. the idea dies down in his mind as soon as he realizes your full attention is on the screen, soft hums leaving your mouth every so often along with little comments about the play. you’re absolutely oblivious to his cock prodding at your bum, hard on pressing right against the fat cheeks and aching. some would say it’s embarrassing how quickly reo could stand to full alert, but honestly… who wouldn’t, right? he shifts in his seat, an arm reaching to rest on the backrest of your sofa. he tries, really fucking struggles to keep his eyes on the screen as well, but your small sounds of excitement or frustration make it near impossible. you fidget slightly, 

“ah! it hit the pole,” you mumble, brows knit in focus and hands resting on top of reo’s knees, bare and bruised up from the hours of training. reo closes his eyes, deciding to try his luck - and he bucks his hips up, slowly, as to not scare you off his lap. instead, he’s met with silence - and he glances at you shortly, just to make sure.

he has just the perfect view of your back, skin smooth and glowy, and his hands itch to rest on the curve of your waist. experimentally, he places a hand on your side, and feels you shiver under his fingertips.

“your hands are cold,” you whine, but instead of pushing it off your bare skin, you do the thing he doesn’t even dare to dream of right now - you squirm. reo moves his other hand to his mouth, leaning back into the plush sofa as his hips do the very contrary and thrust up against you.

you don’t seem to acknowledge how uncomfortable the position generally is, how it should be for any other male friend whose lap would be occupied by you. instead, you lean forward slightly, hips rolling against reo’s crotch just slightly, and you sigh softly as you give his knees a gentle squeeze.

can you really be this oblivious? honestly, it’s hard to tell which thought makes him harden more - you just putting up a little facade and actually just teasing him by this point, or, which is more likely considering your sweet nature - you being truly, absolutely unaware of how your fidgeting was making his dick throb and ache. the sounds of the game are long forgotten, barely a haze in reo’s mind, as blood pumps in his ears and mouth salivates at both the sight and sensation on you almost bent over on his lap. he feels your dainty fingers tap against his knees mindlessly, or giving his flesh a gentle squeeze whenever you tense up in excitement over the match. he has to lean his head back, eyes closed and teeth nearly sinking into his hand as to not make a sound.

he rolls his hips up against your bum languidly, the friction sending sparks down his thighs, and it feels heavenly. he thinks of how your small hands will feel as they rest in the same exact place as now, but instead, they work as support when you lower yourself down on his cock. he wonders how you’d squeal if he grabbed at your ass, left his hand prints all over the soft flesh, setting a rhythm for you to ride him. for a second, it even occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pushed himself to make a move, the little sleepover with your best friend really could end up with him splitting you open on his dick. 

reo hears his breath hitch in his throat, the familiar tension in his abdomen growing stronger, and it urges him to grind against you just a bit faster. upon realizing that you really are absolutely oblivious to how he’s using you to get off, it seems like most of his limits broke loose. (it’s not like anything would happen if you ever did find out, though, right?) his cock throbs and pulses against the thin gray boxers, pre-cum already sticking to the material and it feels fucking disgusting, but so good. he tips over his climax, eventually, hips stuttering beneath you and just as he feels the first spurt of cum soak into the soft cotton, you let out a gasp, and jolt in his lap. 

the sensation is enough to make reo’s eyes widen, a choked groan leaving his lips at the way your ass rubs down on him just perfectly, as if helping him ride his high out. his head feels airy as he listens to your little squeal of excitement mix with the sports announcer’s lively comments, the sound tuned out and barely a buzz in his ears. the sticky and thick cum pools in his boxers, and he wonders if you really cannot feel the obvious wetness through the material of his shorts.

you shift in your seat on his lap, ripping a groan from his throat at the way you press down against his overstimulated cock. turning around to give him a puzzled look upon the sound, the sight of your eyes wide and bright almost chokes reo up. 

“you okay?” you ask, a hand reaching towards his face to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. you don’t seem to notice the way perspiration clings to his brows as you touch him.

he gives a nod, swallowing down the saliva that pooled in his mouth, before clearing his throat. 

“yeah,” he speaks, and he’s surprised how collected he sounds for someone who had just creamed his pants. his eyes follow the screen, watching the player’s goal from a minute ago replay and it’s actually a little silly how lucky he is to get such a good cover, in fact, as he watches the camera zoom in on his favorite club’s goalkeeper and his sour expression.  “just really want barca to win, s’all.” 

reo gives up on the hope of you finally growing more self-aware anytime soon when a few more months pass and yet, you still don't notice how your panties would disappear from the hamper or how reo has to excuse himself from the room when you're around - only to come back minutes later, eyes glossed over.

you're starting to make it hard for him not to make a move, and he's honestly stunned that he went so long without finally having his way with you. hell, he even brings you along to the small weekend trip he's came up with, just before the new u20 squad was to be announced. the blue lock team deserves some relaxation before the season starts, even if it is barely a few days, and you do too, considering you had just finished your finals (on top of your class as always). and so, he brings you with him and the rest of the guys and their partners - who at first ask how long you two have been together and then give a surprised look when you laugh, oh! oh no, reo's like a brother to me, really! (something about his longing looks and the way he'd grab your hips tells them different, but oh well, that's not any of their business, right?) the sight of you in all the skimpy bikinis, skin glowing with the tanning oil and cheeks kissed by the sun might just be the breaking point - or at least, one of them, the other being you, going on a date with one of his teammates, and getting your little heart broken.

the sight of you on his doorstep, head hung low and soft little sniffles sounding through the rain outside, is a shock indeed - and reo only has it in himself to coo softly as you stumble right into his arms.

"hey- hey, what's goin' on?" he tries to pull you back from his chest, but the grip you have on his waist is surprisingly strong. instead, he reached for the handle and clicks the door shut, hands moving to rub up and down your arms afterwards. "what happened, bunny?"

your shoulders tremble once, nimble fingers tightening on the material of his white tee. "don' wanna talk," you mumble, and reo wraps his arms around your shoulders, lips pressing to the crown of your head soothingly.

"okay," he mumbles, breathing in the all too familiar scent of your shampoo mixing with the sweet, sticky coconut of your perfume. it brings him back to the frat party months earlier - and makes heat pool in his stomach, even now, as you're sniveling against his broad chest. "i'll run you a bath, okay? you'll get sick."

you don't have it in you to refuse, and in a span of an hour, you're already curled up in the middle of reo's bed, wearing a spare pair of your joggers and one of his sweaters. there's two half-empty cups of ginger tea on the bedside table, and you lay on your side, knees hugged to your chest as you ramble.

reo stares at your face as you speak in a hushed tone, propping his head up on his hand, the other busy with rubbing small circles into your hip. he knows it's bad, god, he knows it's fucked up, but he feels his abdomen tighten at the sight of crystal tears sticking to your lash line.

"and then i said..." you take in a breath, bottom lip jutted out. "said that i- i don't want to do it anymore. that maybe we shouldn't after all, so he got annoyed and tried to change my mind, but-" you cut your rambling off at the silence you're met with, eyes glancing up to check on reo's expression.

he's always been an attentive listener, but this time, the silence almost sounds different. the boy hums, and tugs you a little closer to him. "shouldn't do what?" he inquires; and if it wasn't for the tears smudging your vision, you would've noticed the way he swallows thickly.

you feel your cheeks heat up and scrunch your nose, shaking your head. "you know what, reo," you mumble and he has to force back a sly smile. you're so shy, and now also slightly shaken still from what happened mere two or three hours ago. "i told you already.."

you trail off, the topic clearly bringing you discomfort and yet, reo doesn't drop it entirely. you've grown used to him being so thorough in your conversations, but this time, it makes you fidget slightly.

of course he knows. god of course he does, and the thing keeps him awake some nights, especially after he's scored a goal or two and he has to blow off some steam.

reo's well aware that you've never been with a guy. you've kissed a few of them, yeah, sure. you could've even made out with them, had their tongues down your throat - but you were still innocent, in more ways than one. you were drop dead gorgeous, and yet, the way you would be absolutely oblivious to other guys advance's still hadn't changed one bit since you were barely a young teen. maybe that's why you've never had a man grope you, please you, ruin you - make you stumble over your own feet the morning after.

he's wonders if you've even ever thought of it - if you ever desired to be played with.

"i know," he chuckles slightly and dips his hand under the hem of the thick sweater draped over your waist. a thumb starts to smooth tiny circles across your flesh, mimicking the gesture from seconds before. "i know, bunny. but i've told you already, didn't i, how there's plenty bad guys around." he points out, hand giving your waist a slight squeeze upon feeling you tense up. "why didn't you tell me that you were meetin' someone, hm?"

you can't stand the intensity of reo's violet eyes boring into yours, and so you only give a slight shrug and avert your gaze, "i dunno, reo. just wanted to try something new." you admit, the words now sour on your tongue and you know that this'll be the last time you ever try to go out of your comfort zone for a long, long time. "everyone already did it. i stick out." you grumble, expression soft even as you frown.

your words don't leave him undisturbed - in fact, the expression on reo's face doesn't give out any of the things he's thinking about. if it did, he's sure his eyes would turn black with greed, and he'd most probably drool over the thought of him being the one you turned to instead-

oh.

"why didn't you just ask me?" reo sits up slightly, the arm used to support his head up now straightened. you look up at him, hand itching to brush the hair out of his face - something you seem to always do whenever he has his hair down - but the intensity of his gaze leaves you flustered enough to back down.

"ask you?" you squeak out. it's cute how shocked you sound, reo thinks.

"yeah, why not?" his hand moves further up, warmth resting on your ribs now, just barely below the swell of your breast. you're not wearing any bra - of course you aren't. it's not like you've ever thought of being the slightest bit embarrassed in front of him - not like you've ever noticed how he had to fix his boner at the glimpse of your nipples perking through the shirt you would wear at one of your sleepovers.

the feeling is so unfamiliar, it makes your head dizzy. you and reo have always been touchy with each other - but it's because you were best friends, and it was your way of keeping close, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. but now, as he looks at you with such intensity and pushes on the topic that brings you so much embarrassment, the touch seems out of place.

"you know that your first time is really important, right? you'll compare all of your next boyfriends to this," reo hums, giving your flesh a light squeeze. "s'why you have to be real careful who you're pickin' to be your very first, doll." eventually, he pushes himself up straight, and it feels like the air around you has thinned and finally, you could breathe free again.

"still- wouldn't that be... weird, if i asked you to?" you prop yourself up on your elbows and you're surprised you even managed to force the words out. your heart hammers inside your chest, "we're best friends..." you mumble, and reo shrugs - nonchalantly, as if the ache in his boxers wasn't driving him crazy.

"that's what best friends are for," he points out and reaches a hand towards your ankle, fingers gently skimming along the delicate skin. it makes you shiver and fidget slightly as he massages along your calf. "it's nothin' weird. i could just help you out, so you know what you like and how to make a guy feel good, yeah?" you roll your head to the side, face burning. this sounds insane - reo, your sweetest best friend that almost feels like an older brother to you, telling you how he can be your first. what's worse, no matter how uncanny it feels, it surprisingly doesn't raise any objections in your mind.

you must be silent for a short while, because soon he drums his fingers against your knee. (you didn't even notice when his hand moved upwards, and how good it feels.)

"hey, we don't have to," not now, at least. but god, it's getting so exhausting to hold himself back. "but it would be easier for you that way, bunny.. you trust me, don't you?" your heart pulls in your chest at the words, teeth sinking into your bottom lip and reo almost feels sorry for how he's messing with your head.

but honestly, he's not even trying to - after all, he's just saying the truth. if only you gave him the green light, he could show you so much. he knows you better than anyone else, better than any guy out there ever will. he could make you feel things you didn't know were even possible, pull sounds from you that would make you blush with embarrassment. all he needs is just a chance.

the quiet rustling of the sheets brings him back from the train of thoughts and the sight of you, legs slightly spread in front of him, eyes glossed over and cheeks reddened, is enough to choke him up.

"f'course i do," there's a slight whimper to your voice, breath soft as your chest heaves. "s-so, reo, please..."

a grunt catches in his throat as he grabs your ankles, gently, and pulls you towards him - hands immediately moving to roam up your middle. goosebumps rise along your skin, back arching slightly, and you glance up as reo wraps your legs around his hips.

"will make you feel good," he promises, breathily, as he leans down. you can see how blown his pupils are - the pretty violet barely a halo around the black by now. he licks his lips, gaze darting towards yours, but goes to vocalize his question anyway. "can i?"

you would've answered, but the close proximity between you two and the way you can feel reo's soft breath his your mouth makes you act before you can think. you lean in, lips pressing against his in a chaste kiss, and carefully cup his face in your hands.

reo moans into your mouth, shameless, and brings one large palm to rest back on your hip to grab at the soft flesh. you're so sweet, so gentle - treating him with reserve still, but it feels heavenly anyway. just the way he always imagined.

his tongue slips into your mouth, a surprised little sound muffled against his mouth, as he deepens the kiss languidly. your head spins at the feeling of reo's warm tongue, sliding against yours and lapping lazily, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck. you're pulling him closer, ankles locking behind his hips as he presses himself against you.

there's a bashful mewl slipping past your lips as you feel reo's hard cock rut against your clothed core.

"you're so pretty," he breathes into the kiss, breaking it as he pulls away just slightly, enough to look at you. "see? you're makin' me feel so good, bunny, and we're just kissin'." he grabs your hips with both of his hands now, moving them against his crotch.

the feeling reminds you of when you'd touch your little pussy yourself - late night, under the covers, when the tension and warmth in your tummy would just get too much. but never, ever would you ever think that someone else rubbing at your sweet spots could feel this good. your clit throbs against the cotton of your sweats, and it's almost as if reo feels it at the way he grinds your hips against his harder.

"reo-" you gasp, hand grabbing at his bicep 'cause it's starting to feel like too much. his hands are firm and heavy, holding you against him and handling you however he likes - however he seems fit. it's good, but you have a feeling that it might get even better.

"i know," he coos, chuckling at the way your eyes flutter when he pulls away. he gives your - well, his - sweater a tug, "take it off for me, doll."

you give a small nod and quickly work on taking the clothing off, the air cold against your heated skin. you shiver slightly, both from the change in temperature and the way reo looks at you.

he sighs shakily, hands moving to rest on your waist before slowly moving up and grab at your breasts. you lull your head back into the pillows, the feeling of reo's warmth palms making you shudder. it's new - you've never had anyone touch you like that, ever - and makes warmth pool in your abdomen.

"fuck," you hear him whisper under his breath as he massages at the plush of your tits - fingers experimentally giving a pinch to one of your nipples. you whimper at the feeling, jolting slightly, "fuck, feel how they fit right in my hands?" he flexes his fingers on the flesh for emphasis. "like they were made f'me." a soft groan leaves his mouth, before he leans down and wraps it around your areola.

your eyes widen slightly at the tickling sensation, reo's tongue warm and heavy against your hard nipple, and your back's arching off the mattress before you can register it.

there's a hand slipping past the waistband of your sweatpants, rough fingertips skimming against the skin of your abdomen, just right above your pussy. your hips stutter and chest heaves, making reo moan out at how you stuff his face full with your tits. you're so fucking needy, and you don't even seem to notice. your body acts on it's own, natural and by instinct upon feeling so much pleasure all at once, and it makes his head spin.

he gently dips a finger between your folds, drawing a little circle against your hole and his breath hitches in his throat at the way wetness oozes right out. he pulls away from your chest, a thick ribbon of saliva connecting his reddened lips with your nipple, and looks up at you.

there's one of your forearms resting over your eyes, lips fallen apart as soft little moans slip past. you only pull your arm away from your face when his hand pushes your pants down and doesn't return to it's previous place between your thighs - instead, he taps his fingers on your lips.

you look up at him, eyes tentative, as he breathes out, "lick them for me, baby. so it doesn't hurt."

he knows damn well that you're wet enough to manage a finger or two, even if it is your very first time taking something longer and thicker than your dainty fingers - but the sight of you obediently parting your lips, tongue lolling out to lap at his digits before softly suckling is worth the lie.

reo feels his cock throb as he watches you, intently, as you circle your tongue around his fingers and struggle to fit them in your mouth past his second knuckle.

"good girl," he croons and gives his hard on a firm squeeze through his sweats, just a little something to relieve the painful pulse. your eyelashes flutter momentarily, blood rushing to your cheeks, and he can't help but push his fingers deeper.

you choke slightly, eyes squeezing shut at the sudden intrusion as you feel saliva pool in your mouth and dribble past the corner of your mouth.

"open your eyes," you can barely hear reo speak over your quiet choking. "look at me."

you force your eyes back open, vision blurry with tears as you try to catch eye-contact. tears pool at your lash line as finally, he retracts his fingers from your mouth and pulls his hand away entirely, satisfied.

you sputter, gasping for air, and feel reo's other hand rest on your cheek. he wipes your tears away with a thumb, cups your face in his palm gently and sighs.

"see- that's what other boys would do if they saw you like that," he soothes, voice warm as usual and it brings contrast to his words. "s'why you have to be careful, bunny. don't want anyone to be rough with you, don't you?"

you shake your head quickly, throat still burning and scratchy as you look up. he really does look almost worried, with his eyes soft and focused on you entirely - but it almost seems like there's a haze behind the lilac.

you don't dwell on it too much, 'cause there's already a finger rubbing against your slit again, and this time it slips right in. the sensation isn't entirely new to you - you've played with yourself before, after all - but reo's fingers are so much thicker and longer than yours, feel so rough, and seem to press against your sweet spot almost instantly. you moan sweetly, hips bucking against his hands involuntarily as his fingertip rubs against the front of your pussy. it tightens around his finger, makes him dip it even deeper.

"right there?" he asks breathily, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it's enough of an answer. your tummy spasms slightly as you suck in a breath, hips starting to grind against his hand. there's another finger prodding at your entrance, teasingly, before slipping right in next to the other. "wanna see if you can handle two."

there's a slight stretch and burn as you try to accommodate to the girth of reo's fingers, much wider than anything you've ever played with and it is giving you a small struggle. you whimper and shift your hips, hand moving to push at his wrist instinctively.

"can't," you moan out, swallowing thickly as reo gives you a look - almost disappointed, yet intrigued at the same time.

"you've never had anything other than your fingers playing with this little pussy, didn't you?" it comes out as a slight groan, and you turn your head to the side to avoid his gaze. even as you act so sheepish, the slick that coats reo's fingers tell him enough - you're enjoying this.

you're getting off on listening to your best friend talk so sweetly about your pussy, playing with your body how he pleases.

you gulp heavily as you feel his weight shift on the bed, one arm resting across your abdomen and pinning you down firmly. and then, you feel a hot breath fan across your wet cunt, throbbing and creaming for attention, before he takes a long lick up your clit.

your hands grab at reo's hair, fingers tightening to tug and it vibrates against your pussy as he groans. "fuck," you whimper, and he chuckles breathlessly.

"watch your mouth," he muses, humored, before wrapping his lips around your throbbing little clit.

your eyes roll backwards, head pushing into the pillows and you have to bite back a cry at the overwhelming pleasure that seems to hit you all at once. it makes your muscles tremble and head spin how reo seems to work the same exact spot with both his fingers, massaging and thrusting inside, and his tongue, messily and hungrily slurping away. your hips stutter, but don't lift off the bed whatsoever as he keeps them stuck to the mattress with his arm, whining against your heat.

"you can- you can tug," he breathes, purple eyes glancing up at you as he knows exactly what you'll do - give him a little puzzled look, as if to ask you sure, reo? - and moans as his gaze meets yours. you look entirely fucked out already, spit wet on your lips and face pink, eyes wide and needy. he wonders if he looks just as filthy right now, hips rutting into the sheets and soaking his sweats with pre-cum and with his face stuffed in your pussy, devouring you as if he was starved.

he just might be, after years of trying to control himself.

he feels your fingers give a sharp pull at his hair, then push his mouth right back against you until his nose nudges against your groomed mound. it starts to get hard to breathe, he realizes, but you taste just to sweet - almost like honey, thick and sticky on his tongue as he suckles and licks and nibbles, soft little hums and whines buzzing against your twitching pussy.

you feel your back nearly stick to the sheets, thighs trembling against his head as you feel the strange sensation creep up - your muscles tense up as reo's hand presses on your lower abdomen, firmly, a breathy sigh hot on your clit. your eyes widen slightly and you jolt,

"aah- stop- reo, stop," you babble, tongue heavy in your mouth and head hazy from pleasure, but you have to go. embarrassment is dense on your mind as you push at his head, breath picking up and hips bucking up involuntarily. "please, please reo, it feels - ngh- feels funny." you don't realize there's big, fat tears running down your temples now, clear streaks streaming down the heated skin as your voice cracks.

why isn't he stopping?

you choke back a sob, the pleasure white hot in your veins as he groans and pulls back just slightly, enough to speak, "fuck, cum for me. cum on my face, baby." he sounds desperate - looks just the same, too, as you glance at him and the way he works his fingers in and out of your tight heat, fluttering and tightening. big, needy eyes stare up at you, bangs held back by your hand as your fingers pull at the hair, and he lolls his tongue out, grinding it against your clit messily.

you throw your head back, eyes unfocused, as it hits you like a heavy rainfall. the pleasure comes in waves, muscles taut and shaking as your back arches and quiet little cries slip out of your mouth - almost like a chant, and nothing like the sounds all of the other girls made, reo realizes. you sound so, so much prettier. perfect and sweet as you grind against his hungry mouth, cream oozing onto his tongue and juices spilling on his chin. he nearly whimpers, hips rolling against the bed and it takes all of his self restraint not to cum in his pants, too, at the sight of you trembling in his grasp.

the pleasure leaves your limbs warm and fuzzy, a soft buzz in your ears as your climax slowly dies down - but you realize that reo doesn't let up, fingers now having dropped their pace, but tongue still flicking against your oversensitive heat. you whine, swallowing back tears and pulling his mouth away, tugging at the roots of violet hair.

"reo," you sound broken enough, he thinks, and so he gives your clit a last kiss, the smack sounding so obscene it makes you close your eyes in shame. he eases his fingers out of you and gives the inside of your thigh a little peck as well before sitting back on his heels, breathing heavy as he takes you in.

you struggle to catch your breath properly, hair sticking to wet cheeks as you swallow thickly and grab at the sheets - as if you wanted to tug them over your body, cover yourself from his stare and the realization that sits heavy on your mind. reo sighs, nearly dreamily, and sucks your juices right off his fingers as you watch - too exhausted to show any sign of shame.

"m'gonna have you ride my face next time, okay?" he breathes out, giving your hip a squeeze - and before you let his words settle in, you're already nodding along, a soft little whimper leaving your mouth in agreement. it makes his cock jump in his boxers, the way you're so compliant and don't seem to realize the weight of his words.

if only he had known you'd be so easy to convince, he would've made a move a long time ago already, reo thinks to himself as he pulls you up for a kiss. grabbing your wrist to push your hand behind the waistband of his boxers, he drinks up the little moans that slip out your mouth, needy and sweet, nearly enough to make his teeth rot.

reo is so content he's met you, even if it took him long years to realize that your innocence and purity are actually the very thing he needs and wants.

and yeah, you're still different than the other girls - but you're just as oblivious with the way you don't notice his phone propped up on the nightstand.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! :)

© itoshi-s. do not plagiarize, repost as your own or mention on other sm platforms.

[wooataes]

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: told myself to slow down, didn’t.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You finish your cocktail before you go into the concert hall. Roxie grabs a third and you pass, not wanting to run back and forth to the bathroom. Besides, you don’t really like the way the vodka stirs in your stomach and little behind your eyes.

The band is decent. You don’t know any of the songs and only vaguely heard of the artist they are a tribute to. Still, you enjoy the live show; you focus on their instruments and how they use them. You always wanted to be musical but never had a sense of tone or melody.

By the end of the set, you’re yawning. Your sister is on her fourth drink and you can’t tell if she’s swaying to the music or if it’s more than that. As the rows empty, you shuffle out with the rest of the concert goers. The bright lights of the casino greet your squint and your ears pulse slightly from the noise of the strumming and crashing show.

“Mm, so, what’d’ya say?” Your sister makes almost every word into one, “how do we spend this?”

She fishes out the chip and you give a sheepish frown. You almost forgot about it. You still think you should turn it in. You don’t feel right spending someone else’s money. You do that often enough, much too old to be living off your mom.

“Don’t be boring,” she warns, “jeez. It’s just cards. Odds are, whoever dropped it, would’ve lost it to the house anyway.”

She claps her hand around your shoulder. You pull back the sleeve of your cardigan to check the time. It’s after ten! You haven’t been out that late since... ever.

“I’m not boring,” you cross your arms and shrug her off. “I just... am different than you.”

“Boring,” she repeats. “You can’t spend all day in your room.”

Yes, you can. And you do.

You don’t argue. When she’s like this, it’s only bound to become a scene. There are too many strangers around for that.

“Black jack,” she declares and spins the coin. It slips from her grasp and falls between her feet. She bends over shamelessly in her dress to pluck it up. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

She struts ahead and you shuffle after her, nervously wringing the strap of your purse. Hopefully she loses it quickly and you can just retreat home in defeat. You catch up to her as she reaches the stairs. She giggles as she leans on the railing and you take her other arm, trying to support her wobbly steps.

“Want another drink?” She asks.

“No, think we’re good.”

“We?” She scoffs, “I’m fine.”

“Please, Rox, let’s just find a table,” you peek around as her voice rises a bit louder than you like.

“Pfft, fine, but if I win, I'm getting a drink.”

You nod. Go along to get along. That’s what your mother always told you when it came to your sister. She’s more like your father than she cares to admit.

You get to a table and she sits easily on the high seat of the tall stool. She lays down the single chip and the dealer offers to break it into smaller ones. She nods and shrugs. You envy how smoothly she just breezes through things.

You stand behind her. You don’t want to take up a seat and the stool is too much of a climb for you. You can see it wobbling as you attempt to hitch yourself up with the crossbar. You’re good, you shouldn’t get comfortable.

You listen to the shuffle of cards as your sister murmurs something you can’t make out. You can only hear the low drone of voices as you stand back. You sidle out of the way as a man claims the empty stool beside your sister. He buys in and another hand is dealt. Hasn’t she lost yet?

The man leans into your sister and you grimace. She turns her head to listen to him and she giggles. Your cheeks blaze hotly and you cross your arms and rock. Neither seem to notice you as they get closer and closer.

As the game progresses, you can only really make out what the dealer says; the different numbers that have grumbles coming from other players. You bring your hand up to pick at the button on your cardigan. The man puts his arm around your sister’s back, his hand on her hip as wiggles in her seat coyly. What about Tom?

You peer around awkwardly. Do you stop her? Remind her of the boyfriend that got her the tickets for tonight? You bounce in your flats and pause as you find someone else staring back at you. Or are they? Just as quickly as your eyes meet, the stranger’s eyes flit away and he’s back to chatting with another man. It’s the very same man who gave you the chip. Maybe her forgot you. That’s not a surprise.

You return your attention to your sister. The man has moved his arm between them and your sister squirms. You watch his elbow as he pulls his hand back. He’s touching her leg. She’s wiggling and suddenly, she shoves him away and screeches.

“EH! I got a boyfriend, perv! I said stop.”

Her voice carries along the high ceilings and you cringe. You back up, cowering away as she stands and the stool teeters dangerously. She fists her hand and you think for a moment she might just hit the guy. He scoffs and turns in his seat.

“Babe, just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“Whatever. You fucking creep!” She hollers.

“Ma’am,” the dealer calls from the table, “is there a problem?”

“Y-yeah,” she hiccups, “this dude had his hand up my skirt.”

“She’s drunk,” the man shakes his head, “listen to her.”

“I’m--” your sister’s denial catches in her throat, “doesn’t mean he can just touch me.”

“Ma’am, if you’re drunk, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I’m fine. I'm not that...” She slides off the stool and stands, grabbing the chips in front of her seat and tossing them across the table. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”

Her ankles tangle as she spins and she barely gets her balance before she storms away. Her strides are uneven as she bobbles drunkenly. You watch after her with wide eyes before you follow. She leads you into the bathrooms as she growls and grumbles. She slams into a stall and you stand outside.

You wait until she comes out. She’s quieter and her eyes are hazy. She washes her hands and applies a new coat of lip gloss.

“What a bust,” she pouts and rolls her eyes, “one more drink and we’ll go.”

“Maybe we should just leave now.”

“That guy was such a pervert,” she sneers at you, “you saw where his hand was.”

You nod, “yeah, I did...”

“So, you know I wasn’t being dramatic.”

“Yeah, but... everyone heard.”

“Oh fuck off,” she pushes your shoulder and stomps past you.

You feel bad. It’s not that she shouldn’t defend herself. You admire that she can, but she didn’t need to be so obnoxious. You trail after her into the casino. She heads directly for the bar. You hang your head and wait behind her. This time, she doesn’t offer you a drink. She’s mad at you now so it’s the silent treatment.

“Honey,” another man approaches, “how about I get that for you?”

“Huh?” She babbles, “oh, sure, baby, that’s sweet.”

The man offers his card to the bartender and orders a highball. He leans his arm on the tall bar top as he faces your sister. She bats her lashes at him and giggles as she pulls her drink closer.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” He asks.

You blink. It’s like you’re not even there. You watch awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow you up. Instead, you find an empty stool one seat away.

“Roxie,” she answers as you struggle up onto the seat. “And you, handsome?”

“Sam,” he returns, “what’re you drinking then?”

You notice him touch her glass along the brim but can’t see much else around your sister. She replies and his own drink is served. You shrink down and sigh. She’ll get her free drink and then you can just leave. You hope. You hold your chin as you dread another scene.

“Can I get ya something?” The bartender approaches.

“Er, water, please,” you choke out. He seems disappointed but gets you a glass.

You try not to overhear your sister and that man. It’s awkward and you hate this. It’s not the first time she’s done it either. The few times she’s brought you along, you’ve somehow become a third wheel. It reminds you of when you were kids and your mom forced her to take you with her somewhere. She doesn’t actually want you around, she’s genetically obligated.

“Woah, baby, you okay?” The man raises his voice and your sister’s body slumps. Shoot. No.

You barely get off the stool as the man clings to her drooping body. She giggles wildly as you tweak your ankle and rush over. That man, Sam he called himself, seems somewhat calm given the situation.

“Slow down, babe,” he chortles, “Jesus.”

She’s drunk. You knew she shouldn’t have had another drink. Your eyes meet Sam’s and he squints.

“You know her?”

“My sister,” you murmur.

“Oh, right, well...” he clears his throat and looks around, “you can take care of her then.”

“Wait--” you barely keep her up as she leans on you as she’s almost sideways on the stool.

He’s just leaving you? What the heck? You guess if he can’t get anything out of her, she isn’t worth the effort.

You sniff and struggle to slide your sister down to her feet. She’s heavier than you expect and her height makes her difficult to balance. You glance over as the bartender nears.

“Everything okay?” He asks sternly.

“We’re leaving,” you assure him, “sorry.”

“Five minutes,” he taps his watch face, “or I call security.”

You nod and move your arm around your sister’s back, “please, Rox, gotta work with me.”

She laughs again, “hey, where’d that cute guy go?”

“Please,” you beg again, “don’t...”

“Oh, hi,” she touches your faces and squeezes your cheeks, “baby sister.”

You hate when she’s like this. She’s always been a drinker, ever since high school when her friends would sneak out bottle from their parents’ stash. What was once an act of rebellion as a teen is now concerning as an adult.

“Excuse me, everything okay?” The timbre makes your heart drop and you nearly let go of Roxie as she leans in the other direction.

You look up. Oh god. It’s him. That dark-haired man in his expensive suit.

“I’m just... we’re on our way out--”

“She alright?” He points at your sister.

“Tipsy,” you utter.

“I see,” he pushes his hair back as it slips forward, “can I help?”

“Uh, you don’t--”

Before you can answer, he has your sister’s other arm. He almost lifts her entire weight off of you as he supports her against his shoulder. Your entire body is emblazoned in humiliation. You refuse to look above the floor as you’re certain you must have an audience.

You get your sister across the floor and into a hallway. There's an exit sign ahead but you're all turned around. The man stops you and Roxie.

"Where'd you park?" He asks, "this leads to Lot 5."

"Oh, uh..." you blanch. You hadn't thought of any of that. You slouch under Roxie's weight and try to see around her. "I'm not sure but... I don't drive. She was supposed to."

"Ah," he clucks, "and now she can't."

"Right," you agree glumly, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Why?" He asks.

"I didn't think... I let her--"

"Did you let her drink or did she make that choice knowing she was supposed to get behind a wheel?" He challenges.

"I guess... yeah. Sorry."

"Really, doll, no need to keep going on like that," he dismisses, "well, it's late and I can't in good conscience let you wander out with her like this. Especially if you don't have a way home."

"I could..." you begin. A taxi? You'd have to ask your mom to pay the driver when you get home. "Why would you... care?"

"Well, as the owner of this establishment, it won't look good on me if two pretty girls left and went missing," he chuckles then stops himself, "sorry, that's not funny. I just... we overserved your sister obviously so it's on us."

"Owner?" You gulp. You didn't think this could be any more humiliating.

"Bucky," he reaches around you sister.

You hesitate. You can't shake his hand properly as yours is around your sister so you just sorta grab his hand briefly and squeeze two fingers, retracting with another raze of embarrasment. You barely squeak out your name.

He repeats your name before he continues, "I'll get you two a room so she can sober up."

"What? No. That's... too much."

"It's late," he insists, "here," he pulls Roxie away from you as her head lolls and she snorts. He lifts her against his chest, carrying her easily. "I know a back way, just follow my lead, doll."

"Ummmmm," you drone and he waltzes back the way he came, hardly detered by the drunken body in his arms. You can only kick yourself and scramble after him. This night could not have ended any worse. Well, you guess it could if it went the way he suggested.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Ménage à trois | Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

Summary: A typical movie night at Stu's turns into a ménage à trois

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (m receiving), non protected p + v (this is the 90s), anal, any incoherence are part of the world of Scream...just enjoy the smut that took way too long to write

Request: Threesome with billy and Stu plsss There's barely any fics for them

I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while, but I couldn’t find characters that fit (i tried so many!). This is my first Billy fic and it’s sort of exciting since I’ve been crushing hard on him (well, Skeet Ulrich) since forever. Although I like his character, I am not into Stu, so that was challenging for me to include him in the scene. I hope it's good enough!

—

The best thing about Stu’s house was that his parents were often out of town because of their job, making it the perfect spot for hosting huge parties without having to worry about parents coming home and ending the fun. It was also perfect for private parties.

Stu brought out a stack of VHS from the blockbuster while you made popcorn in the kitchen, getting ready for the horror movie marathon. Billy was out getting beer and other snacks, needing your sweets with the popcorn.

The kernels were almost finished popping and you felt someone press against your back, pulling you flush against them. The familiar cologne filled your nose and you leaned into Billy’s presence. He pressed his lips on your neck, distracting you from your popcorn duty.

‘’Stop, I’m gonna burn the popcorn,’’ you told him, trying to push him off you but Billy was not letting you go. ‘’Did you get the blue—’’

‘’— lollipop with the sour dip powder? Yes,’’ he confirmed. ‘’I also got a candy necklace and a roll of sweetarts.’’ Billy pulled them out of his jacket’s pocket and your mouth twisted into a smile.

After the popcorn was ready, you brought it to the living room and joined Billy and Stu who were already drinking beer and talking nonsense.

At least they had not started the movie without you.

‘’What are we watching first?’’ you asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Stu offered you a beer in exchange for a handful of popcorn. ‘’The Exorcist.’’

Although considered the scariest movie ever made, you wouldn’t say it’s scary. It was definitely iconic for the horror genre. Some scenes were a bit shocking and disturbing, but it didn’t keep you up at night.

‘’I’m gonna stuff you like that later,’’ Billy whispered beside you as the ‘best parts’, according to him, were not edited out.

The scene was in no way turning you on — that would be disgusting —, but his promise and the sultry rasp in his voice so close to your ear made your core tighten. You bit back a sound as he squeezed your thigh, a wave of arousal running through your body.

‘’What are you kids whispering about?’’ Stu asked, sticking his head in your and Billy’s personal space.

Billy shot a glare at his friend.

‘’Oh!’’ Stu smirked, figuring his line of thoughts. ‘’If you want to fuck, feel free to use my bed. Last door on the left.’’

The offer was tempting, but Billy declined the offer quickly.

‘’So your perverted ass can listen and jerk off while we fuck?’’ He shook his head, knowing his best friend a little too well. ’’Not happening.’’

Stu gasped dramatically. ‘’I would never do that!’’ Billy gave him a ‘I know you’ look, and he sighed. ‘’Okay, maybe I would, but that’s your fault for not letting me join.’’

A wicked idea crossed your mind. ‘’And what if we did? Let you join, that is.’’

The taller one’s brain short-circuited. ‘’W-what? You want me to join?’’

You shrugged, not seeing an issue. Him and Billy have been close friends for years and you’ve always secretly wanted to do it with another partner. This was your chance.

‘’If you’re in.’’ You looked at Stu, then Billy, needing both their approval. Although you were the one getting to experience them both, you didn’t want to force anyone into doing something they didn’t want.

‘’If I’m in?’’ Stu repeated. A grin spread on his face, excitement shining in his eyes. ‘’Babydoll, I’ve been dying to tap it.’’ He ghosted a hand on your other thigh, getting very close to your crotch.

It was no secret that Stu had his eyes on you — even while he was dating Tatum. You had caught him shamelessly staring at your breasts a handful of times. But you were his best friend’s girl, so he would never make a move on you…unless he was given the permission to.

‘’Don’t get too excited, she’s still mine,’’ Billy was quick to remind Stu, pushing him back on his side of the couch.

After making eye contact with Billy and silently agreeing to the plan, you detached yourself from your boyfriend and joined Stu, taking him by surprise when you crashed your mouth on his. The kiss didn’t match the perfect mix of tenderness and intensity of Billy’s kisses, but it wasn't less enjoyable. He expertly hooks his hands under your knees and drags you on to his lap, swallowing the gasp you let out into his mouth, lips never leaving each other. You subconsciously pressed yourself further into Stu as his hands ventured up the sides of your thighs, guiding you on his lap.

You didn’t mean to drag the kiss for too long, not wanting to give Stu all your attention, but you started feeling his cock stiffen beneath his jeans and took it as your cue to pull back.

He groaned in protest. ‘’It was starting to get good…’’

‘’We have all night, there’s no rush,’’ you told him, crawling back to Billy and kissing him in turn.

Unlike with Stu, everything was easy with Billy. You knew what he liked and how to get him going, and vice versa. You slipped your hands under his shirt, your palms covering the soft planes of his stomach and chest while his tongue caressed yours, causing you to let little moans and sighs slip into his lips.

Stu watched excitedly, feeling his cock twitch underneath his jeans. He never thought he would be so turned on by watching his friends make out.

You tugged at Billy’s shirt, trying to pull it off. He broke the kiss and you helped him discard it, crashing your lips back on his right after.

For a moment, you almost forgot that someone else was there, watching and waiting. You blindly reached behind you to wave Stu over. He scooted toward you and nipped at exactly the right spot on your neck while you started to rock your hips against Billy, feeling his cock press at your core even under his jeans and underwear. His hands moved to your hips, following your moves and eliciting a beautiful groan from him.

The temperature was quickly rising in the living room, so you undid the buttons and peeled it off, revealing your delicate bra. A mewl escaped Stu’s lips at the sight, dying to unclasp your bra and see those tits he's been dreaming about. He reached for it, but before he could, Billy smirked and undid the clasp with one hand, letting your bra slide off your shoulders and breasts.

‘’How does it feel to live your dream?’’ you teased your friend, turning to give him a better view.

His eyes zeroed-in right on your full breasts, glistening like a kid getting the toy he wanted on Christmas morning. Without saying anything, Stu cupped them, slender fingers kneading into your tits and thumbs rubbing your nipples into hard peaks. You threw your head back as the contact sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

While you and Stu were having a moment, Billy loomed behind you and started working on the button of your pants as he attached his lips to your neck, suckling on one spot and leaving a hickey behind. Your head rolled back on his shoulder, your soft moans evolving into a choked cry when Billy’s finger found your clit. He grinned against your neck, his erection digging into your ass.

Screams came from the TV, but you paid it no attention — no one was listening anymore —, pressing into Billy as he continued rubbing his finger over your clit and causing more slick to pool in your panties. They’re gonna be fucking soaked by the time you take them off.

‘’Give Stu some pleasure, baby. He looks left out,’’ Billy said into your ear.

You nodded and reached down for the growing bulge in Stu's pants, grasping at the firm mass beneath the fabric, forcing a whimper to escape Stu's lips as he finally felt some form of stimulation.

‘’Ah, fuck,’’ Stu breathed out.

Before taking things a step farther, the three of you moved to Stu’s bedroom. Stu led the way, eager to get the 'party' started and get his dick wet. You and Billy followed behind, a laugh bubbling out of your lips when he scooped you by your thighs and threw you on his shoulder.

When your ass touched the bed, you grabbed Stu by the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his hard, swollen cock. It was more lean and lighter in color, but with a nice mushroom tip. You stroked it up and down before playing with the tip, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you watched it glisten with a bead of pre-cum.

‘’Mmh, keep doing that, babydoll.’’

Billy snuck behind his friend, a knowing smirk on his lips. ‘’Wait until she’s got her mouth around you.’’

He glanced down at you and you got the hint, getting off the bed and on your knees as the tall boy quickly pushed his clothes down to his ankles, then shrugged off his sweater seeing as it was getting in the way. The sight alone made Stu slightly dizzy. It wasn’t every day that your friend brags about how excellent his girlfriend is at giving blowjobs and lets you try.

You grabbed him and kitten-licked at the leaky slit of his cock, licking up all the pre-cum that dribbled out and sighing as the taste of him landed on your tastebuds. Stu hissed, getting pleasure from the small attention to his sensitive tip.

Now that Billy had bragged about your skills, you didn't want to make him come off as a liar. You needed to give Stu a blowjob worth remembering.

You moved to lick a broad stripe on the underside of his cock, lips wrapping around the tip before taking him inside your mouth. Your hands flew to Stu’s hips to steady yourself as you took him deeper into your mouth, your warm mouth enveloping him, causing Stu to groan and slid a hand through your hair, keeping a grip at the back of your scalp.

On the left, Billy palmed himself over his jeans, the sight of his girl on her knees making him even harder. He rid himself of his jeans and boxers, wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke himself — and relieve himself — while he watched Stu’s cock disappear past your lips slowly. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, making Billy wish it was his in your pretty mouth.

‘’What a little slut. Sucking your boyfriend’s friend's dick right in front of him,’’ Stu said, pushing you deeper on his cock and making your eyes water.

You took it all, letting him use you until his breathing fastened, getting close to cum. Your knees were starting to hurt on the wooden floor, but you didn’t stop and sucked Stu so hard he knew it was only a matter of time before your lips were covered in his come.

Once he did, you swallowed and released Stu’s cock with an audible pop, moving back with a sly grin, a string of saliva connected from your lips to his cock.

‘’Holy fucking shit!’’ he exclaimed as he released his grip from your hair and took a few moments to collect himself.

You glanced over at Billy, looking so pretty in his naked glory, and wiped your mouth.

‘’That’s my good girl,’’ he praised with pride in his eyes.

The corner of your mouth lifted up.

Billy pulled you up and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, catching the little bit of cum and you wrapped your mouth around it, sucking it clean. ‘’Get undressed, babe.’’

You didn’t have much clothes left on, just your pants, panties and socks.

Then, you got on the bed and pulled Billy with you. His mouth magnetically found yours and you spread your legs to give him room to get closer. He rubbed two fingers along your folds and his cock twitched as they got wet with your arousal.

‘’Mmh, that sweet little pussy’s so wet,’’ Billy said against your lips, sliding two fingers inside and making you instantly moan. His fingers knew exactly where to go and what to do.

Your hands came up his shoulders, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

You felt the bed dip and Stu flopped on the bed, already getting hard again and wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke himself at the sight of you getting fingered. He couldn’t wait to be inside your tight wet pussy.

‘’Have you figured out who’s going where?’’ Stu asked, keeping his pace slow and steady.

Billy nodded, answering in your place as you grinded down against his fingers. He curled them, eliciting a series of mewls from you. ‘’You got any lube in here?’’ BIlly said over his shoulder.

Stu scrunched his face in mild disgust. ‘’Eh…no. Why the fuck would I have lube?’’

‘’For—’’

You forced yourself to hold your next moan. ‘’It’s okay,’’ you cut in. ‘’You…you’re good to go. I prepped before coming here.’’

Billy groaned, the thought of you prepping yourself making his dick twitch.

You had not planned for Stu to join, but you did plan ahead for a good night of sex with your boyfriend — including for anal. You didn’t do it very often due to the preparation it needed, but you liked it from time to time.

‘’I knew you wouldn’t have any on hand and I was not gonna let you stick it raw and risk ripping tissue. My ass is gonna be sore enough in the morning, I don’t want to sit on a bag of frozen peas like the first time,’’ you explained.

Stu looked between you and Billy. ‘’She’s let you in her backdoor?’’ he asked his friend, jealousy in his eyes. ‘’Tatum never lets me.’’

Billy grinned at you. ‘’Fuck, I love you.’’ He kissed you hard.

Stu situated himself on the bed, getting ready for you, and you climbed over his lap, facing him. You took hold of his dick and tapped the head of his cock over your clit to tease him, then down your folds, coating it with your slick.

Stu lowered his eyes to where your genitals were rubbing, cursing at the sight. ‘’Mmh, rub your sweet pussy on me.’’

You did it again and he smacked right over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

‘’Cut the teasing and get to it, will you?’’ Billy told the two of you.

He didn’t want to rush you, but he was the only one who didn’t get any preliminary care and he was starting to get impatient.

You nodded and lined Stu up at your entrance, secretly eager to know what it felt like inside you. You lowered yourself on his hard cock, swallowing him between your soaked folds.

Stu was unable to contain the groan crawling from the pit of his stomach as you finally bottomed out. ‘’God, you’re so tight,’’ he whispered. He felt every detail of you, from the way you clenched to your lower lips and your puffy bud just peeking from under its hood. A mischievous grin curled on his lips and he reached to rubbed your clit, making you moan and causing your walls to clench around Stu absentmindedly. ‘’Ahh, fuck.’’

Billy chuckled, knowing exactly what happened.

He came and positioned himself behind you. ‘’You good?’’

You nodded, rolling your hips and slowly riding Stu's length.

With a hand on your shoulder, Billy gently leaned you forward, getting you in a better position. He spat on his fingers and stroked himself a little, pre-cum mixing in, and lined it up with your ass, carefully slipping in and easing himself inside. It stung at first, making you curse Billy's girth.

‘’Fuck, you’re tight,’’ Billy gritted out.

He didn’t move, staying still as your body adjusted and then pushing more in. After a moment, the burning subsided, making its way into pleasure.

Billy gave the first thrust and sighed, feeling you tight around him. ‘’This is even better than last time.’’

Beneath you, Stu figured it was okay to do the same and thrust up, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth at the simultaneous sensations. You had never felt more full.

‘’How does that feel, babydoll?’’ Stu asked, watching your face twist with pleasure.

‘’Feels so fucking good. So fucking full.’’ You rocked back against Billy, signaling for him to go again.

He did and soon enough, Stu was snapping his hips up and ramming into you at fast speed while Billy grabbed firmly at your hips and drilled into you, your loud moans echoing through the four walls of the bedroom. Your body was in overload, every sense heightened, every feeling magnified.

‘’Fuck, right there!’’ you cried, throwing your head back as Billy smacked your ass cheek.

‘’You take our cocks so well,’’ Billy praised, seeing both himself and Stu slip in and out of your holes, eliciting a series of mewls from you. ‘’Looking so fucking good stuffed like that.’’

Unable to form words, you just moaned.

You would have wanted the intense pleasure to never stop, but all good things had an end. You gave the boys a warning that you were about to cum and, just as you were about to conclude, your walls clenched around Stu and he spilled inside you, joining you in your orgasm, cumming all over his cock as Billy continued his assault on your ass before following shortly.

You fell against Stu’s chest, completely and utterly exhausted. A wince of discomfort stretched across your lips when Billy pulled out. He smiled as he watched his cum slip out of you and dripped down to where Stu's softening cock was still inside you.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin react to his short gn s/o asking him to sit down after asking for his permission to kiss him on the lips?

Summary: As requested, Anon!

Warnings: Nothing - vague alusions to Astarion's initial aversion to intimacy, mention of nudity, but nothing huge.

Notes: These ones are a tad short again, but I didn't really want to oversaturate them! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Astarion

"Sit down? Why? are you going to tease me, my sweet?"

He'll do it, if only to amuse you and play along with your little 'game' for the moment - especially in the presence of other people. Be prepared, though - you will hear no end of teasing lines whilst he's sitting himself down. You'd think that he'd actually be quiet, but... No. Of course he won't.

As you start to settle yourself onto his lap, his hands move to your hips, gently cradling them and keeping you steady. His thumbs massage gentle circles over your clothes - though he's not typically seen as a gentle man (or a gentleman), he likes to be that way with you when you're both in private. It's like a little game for him - he can play with you a little bit, flitting between this more gentle side of him and the usual, flirtatious side that he shows everyone else.

He absolutely relishes having you on his lap this way- it's a way that the pair of you can be more intimate with one another without having the 'requirement' to strip down to the nude. It makes him feel safe - though he's unlikely to ever actually tell you that out loud.

Gale

"Hm? Oh, of course!" He's more than happy to take a seat for you. In his mind, it's an opportunity to be closer to you, to be able to hold you properly. Touch is definitely one of his love languages - though one that he hasn't really been able to explore before this point, purely because of his own actions.

He likes to cradle your face with both of his hands when you lean in to kiss him. Rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks brings a calmness to him that he can only really find in books if he were to really seek it - a deep sense of satisfaction that settles in his chest, a warmth that only a close bond can make.

If you're somewhere where there isn't a chair for him to sit on, he's going to conjure one. As much as he loves you, he's not usually in the mood to mess up his knees every so often. They are quite delicate, despite his prowess in other areas.

Halsin

"Of course, my heart... Whatever you need." Halsin almost always leans, kneels or sits down for you - his height makes it pretty much a must in all situations. Being over 6 feet tall makes it very difficult for either of you to kiss one another without some sort of compromise, so it's an automatic thing for him. He does find it very sweet that you ask though - it reminds him that you think of him, as much as he thinks of you, when it comes to giving affection.

Halsin LOVES physical touch - like Gale, it's one of his love languages (though, with Halsin, almost EVERYTHING is a love language). A hand will be on your arm, and another on your waist when you kiss - and if he has the urge to pull you even closer to him, his hands automatically settle at the small of your back.

Another thing he loves to do is carry you - one of his favourite kinds of kisses to share with you (because there are many) is one where you're leaning over his shoulder as he carries you on his back - though a close second to that is you leaning down over him as he carries you on his shoulders. He also likes to press kisses to your fingers when he carries you like this - anything to get his lips on you.

[winniethewife]

I laugh like me again, she laughs like you (Moon Knight System x F!reader)

Warnings: Presumed!dead character, Reader romantically involved with Jake, Marc and Steven are featured, Mother!reader, Single mom, Angst,

Words: 634

She would never expected to have to do this alone. Just as she thought she wouldn’t do many other things alone. Witnessing her Daughters first steps, Her daughters first doctors appointment, the first time she got really sick, the first time she made a friend, her first move, all the way to London. She wasn’t expecting to be alone for her child’s first…everything. And now as she drives down the street she looks at the little girl with dark curls and brown eyes sitting in her booster seat as she looked out the window eagerly.

“Celesia?” She called her daughter’s name and the little girl looked over at her, the gaze in the rearview mirror reminded her so much of the girl’s father.

~

Jake Lockley was a rascal, but he loved her, and for some reason she loved him back. Despite the complications, Despite Marc living his life how he wished, taking her Jake wherever that was, with whoever that was. She had managed to form a friendship with Marc, which didn’t make it any easier, because she started to care a whole lot, a bad habit of hers. At some point they moved in together, a lovely thing to have with Jake, an interesting time with Marc. So when Marc teamed up with Bushman, she had advised against it. It seemed like a really bad idea, it wasn’t that she just wanted to keep Jake with her, it wasn’t the fact that she would have to find another roommate, she was genuinely worried about Marc. So of course when Marc had already been too stubborn and had shipped off, It was time to get a positive pregnancy test, because the universe finds that shit funny.

~

“Yes Mommy?” Her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present.

“You ready for your first day at school?” She asked, trying to sound excited. The little girl nodded enthusiastically, giving her mom two thumbs up. Which she glanced in the mirror. “Remember baby, I can’t look at you when I’m driving so I need you to use your words.” She reminded the eager five year old.

“Right, Sorry Mommy. I am really excited! I can’t wait to make friends and learn things and-” The young girl continued to ramble, causing her mother to smile warmly. So many things reminded her of Jake, and Marc.

~

She sat tears streaming down her face as she read over the letter, all that was found of Marc Spector was some of his belongings in a bloodied temple in egypt, presumed dead, and seeing as everyone else on the expedition was dead that was a good assumption. But she was three months pregnant and currently trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do without her best friend and the father of her baby who, unfortunately in this case, inhabit the same body. She wasn’t sure how the hell she was supposed to do all this alone. Where to even start. But she didn’t have a choice now.

~

The whole day she kept checking her phone during work, just in case she missed a call from the school or a message from Celesia’s teacher, but there was nothing. At the end of the day she rushed to pick her up from school, and then they went to the store after. As the two of them puzzled over which kind of sweets to buy that week, she was surprised when a man ran into her.

“Oh, Sorry! That was entirely my fault there. So sorry.” The voice was too familiar, wrong accent, right voice.

“Jake?” She turned to look at the man, messy head of curls, Dark Brown eyes. The man looked confused. “Marc?’ She asked, maybe too hopeful.

“Sorry, Er I’m Steven, With a V.”

~

Masterlist

Taglist; : @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

A/N: Middle of the night angst? Happens more often than you think.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

BSD CHARACTER PET PEEVES

various, just a few hcs! a few x reader things in there too

atsushi is a pretty easy-going guy and not many things seem to piss him off. the biggest exception to this is bad breath. maybe its because his ability grants him heightened senses, but his face scowls in disgust whenever someone dazai has an off smell while speaking. on the flipside, atsushi can also smell his own breath. sometimes late at night when he comes home you find him scrubbing his teeth, with soap if he uses up all the toothpaste. buy him lots of mints! he’ll probably end up offering them to people dazai

much like atsushi, tanizaki isn’t easily bothered. however, if he is rushing to return home to his dear sister, or walking by her side on the street, he hates slow walkers. his patience wears thin whenever someone on the sidewalk is meandering with 0 spacial awareness. he doesn’t often act on it, leaving you to squeak by an excuse me! to make way for you and him- and he loves you for it.

yosano has many, many pet peeves- but the biggest of these is leaving the toilet seat up. poor girl has to share an office with so many boys- and it doesn’t help that she already has a strong distaste for the opposite gender. she will either use her leg or will call you to come fix it for her- and afterwards she’ll lecture you on all the harmful bacteria you can contract illnesses from in bathrooms. shes a doctor and she means well <3 just fix the damn toilet seat

ranpo, being a lover of sweets, hates overly priced candy. he is childish and isn’t too financially literate, but he knows that a pack of gum should not be $6. he especially hates gas station candy- one, for the quality, but two for the fact that they cost you an arm and a leg. take him to a regular grocery store- or better yet- make him some sweets yourself! they taste better when you make them and when they’re free

kenji is a sweet, easy going, ray of sunshine who hates the sound of stomachs growling- especially his own. perhaps its because of his strong feelings toward poverty, and the sounds of hunger sends shivers down his spine, but he especially can’t stand it if its from his or your tummy. make sure he (and yourself!) are always fed <3 unless he needs to pick up some cars and lift stop signs from the ground

kyouka hates knuckles cracking with all her being. really any body part casually being cracked in public annoys her. i say this because i hc atsushi to be a big knuckle cracker, and can imagine kyouka silently quaking with rage next to him with demon snow prepared to strike. please don’t crack anything around her!

lord, kunikida’s list pf annoyances probably take up 3 pages. gum chewing, interruptions, tardiness, misspellings- but the biggest of these is giving and not returning. and this is SPECIFICALLY for his precious fountain pens. he has a written list of every time and every pen dazai has borrowed and has never gotten back. i imagine dazai does that purely because he knows it pisses kunikida off, and just has his pens lying around in a drawer somewhere. please always return his things! and give him a peck on the cheek too <3

dazai isn’t on this list because dazai is the pet peeve of the whole agency

[mrdixon]

Work in Progress

pairing: pre-negan Alexandria Daryl x f!reader

wc: 8.1k (sorry.)

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p-in-v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), alcohol (sober sex.), mild swearing, some fluff,,,

summary: Your friends peer pressure you into asking Daryl out to the cookout that's taking place tonight.

A/N: this is like my first ever smut officially written and OH MY GOD im so sorry if its terrible i was cringing at some parts. sooooo cliche but i promise ill be better. i realize reading this back that so many of them are slightly out of character but ignore it, i was drunk writing half of this. i also never intended this to be that long and i freaked out reading the word count so. anyways i hope you enjoy and feel free to request anything more!! id be happy to write more for you all.

masterlist!

“I’m telling you, he likes you.” You roll your eyes from your spot at your desk after hearing Maggie’s comment, continuing to focus on your work rather than the idiotic conversation taking place.

“How and why would Daryl like me?” You ask and look up at your three friends Maggie, Carol, and Rosita. It’s like you can pinpoint the exact moment they all mentally facepalm at your question, “I’m just saying.” You mutter under your breath, looking back down at the plans for the reinforcement of Alexandria’s walls. The silence was too loud but you could tell the three of them were all glancing at each other while trying to figure out what to say to you.

“Well for starters, he visits you a lot.” Carol tried to reason, earning a scoff from you. “No I’m serious, he doesn’t even stay home that often. That prick has only stayed for food recently.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly at her comment, still looking down at your notes.

“Plus he smiles a lot around you, I’ve never seen him smile that hard before… Let alone at all.” Rosita adds. You sigh, finally looking up at your friends and immediately getting startled by all of them looking towards you. You think about what Rosita said and contemplate it for a moment, well he has been hanging around you recently…

“Nope, no way.” They all audibly groan as they turn away from you, “besides. I don’t even like him like that.” Now that earns a scoff from them.

“Oh please. You can hardly keep eye contact with him, let alone speak coherent sentences when he’s around.” Carol retorts, tending to the carnations in a vase in the corner of your study room. You scoff again at the exaggerated example whilst shaking your head.

“Uh uh, I can keep eye contact with him. In fact I have no problem interacting with him because he’s just a friend.” You state bluntly before getting up and putting your notes into a folder behind your seat.

“Oh my god hey Daryl!” Rosita calls out, causing you to quickly fix your hair and spin around with a bright smile on your face. All just to slouch back down onto your chair once you realize it was just to catch you off guard. The three of them laugh silently to themselves while muttering a “we told you so” in unison.

“Fine. I guess I do like him but that does not mean I’m going to do anything about it.” You look down at your lap, hearing clothes shuffling from how quickly they all snap their heads in your direction.

“Why the hell not?” Maggie exclaims, “you know it’s nice. Being in a relationship, plus you guys complement each other well.

You sigh as you spin around in your chair, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “Well… Even if he does like me, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Bullshit.” Carol says bluntly before walking up to you, “just ask him out. He won’t say no.” You roll your eyes and spin away from her, staring at your wall.

Rosita spins the chair around back so you can face them, “Carol’s right. Daryl has been pining you for like months, maybe even years now.”

“How am I even supposed to ask him out? Like should I ask him to hang out like usual and pop the question or should I ask him to dinner?” You nibble at the end of your finger anxiously, even considering asking him out is terrifying.

“Oh! You should ask him out to the cookout tonight, it’ll be perfect.” Maggie grabs your hands excitedly, flashing her bright smile at you.

“Oh god no I’m not going.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Rosita grabs your hands, forcing you to look at her. You can tell she has an idea, one you won’t like.

“You are going. No questions asked, no objections. And you will ask him out.” You bite your bottom lip, “c’mon…. If you’re lucky you’ll get laid-” Maggie’s hand flies over Rosita’s mouth to stop her but the statement was already heard.

“I’m not going to fuck him on the first date!” You exclaim, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“It’s a date!” Maggie yells, Rosita says the same but muffled from Maggie’s hand over her mouth. You shake your head profusely, waving your hands around as you panic, not wanting to admit asking him out.

The door opens suddenly, all four of your heads snapping towards the door. A very confused Daryl pokes his head in, furrowing his brows at the scene. “Am I interrupting?”

Carol grabs Maggie and Rosita, dragging them towards the door. “Nope, in fact (Y/N) has something to ask you so we’ll leave you to it.” Carol grins “unsuspiciously” at him whilst dragging the other two out. Rosita mouths a “we’ll come back later” while exiting the room, Maggie giving a thumbs up. You groan, putting your head in your hands as you run your fingers through your hair.

You can hear heavy footsteps walk towards you, the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your desk before that familiar gruff voice speaks. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”

You lift your head to look at Daryl, your heart jumping at the close proximity you two were in. For a moment you contemplate whether to bail on the question or just go for it. You clear your throat, sitting up and crossing your arms, “are you going to the cookout tonight?” Quickly looking away in embarrassment. Nothing even happened yet.

He grunts, shifting in his seat. “Was just gonna go fer a little bit, don’ really feel like stickin’ around.” You nod slowly, muttering a mutual statement.

“Wanna go together?” You look up once more, mentally cringing and hitting yourself. For a moment you could swear his eyes lit up, he nibbled the inside of his bottom lip. A habit of his which you silently found endearing.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” He grumbles, looking to the side. His hair falling over his face, you had an urge to reach up and brush it away but you held back, not wanting to be too bold. You hum silently, awkwardly shifting away from him in your seat.

“Oh, why’d you come here? Did you need something?” You look over at him, realizing he came here on his own free will. He clears his throat, brushing his bangs out of his face with his hand as he looks at you. Reaching into his pocket and handing you a little fox figurine, he had a slight smile on his face as he handed it to you.

You giggled, inspecting it as you held it in your hands. Unbeknownst to you, he was staring at you. Looking at your features and studying them, if someone walked in it would look as if he were a painter and you were his subject. “I jus’ found it on a run earlier, thought ‘cha might like it.” He murmured sheepishly, playing with his fingers.

You looked towards him, smiling at him with those eyes that made his heart skip a beat every time you even glanced in his direction. “I do like it, thanks Daryl.” You placed the figurine on your desk, next to a picture frame of you and the group. Daryl suddenly stood up, looking down at you softly before turning towards the door.

“I’ll pick ya up later tonight then?” He smiled slightly and you nodded, waving to him as he left. Once the door shut you spun around in your chair, your face heating up as you just processed everything that just happened. But now you were left to dread about the upcoming cookout in a few hours.

“No, not happening.” You crossed your arms at the dress presented to you by Rosita and Maggie. It was a very flattering dress for sure, it was a deep red colour, the length ended just above mid thigh, and the neckline was pretty low. It was something you probably wouldn’t ever wear, even pre-apocalypse. “Sorry Rosita but your style just doesn’t fit me. If anything, I’d like to try one of Maggie's dresses.” You shrug and Maggie stifles a laugh.

“Hun this is my dress.” She smirks at you while you frown, “farmer’s daughter can be pretty outrageous too y’know.” Rosita laughs, tossing the dress at you.

“At least try it on, just humour us.” Rosita mockingly pleads with you. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the bathroom with the dress in hand, hearing a quiet cheer from the both of them as you shut the door.

You stare down at the garment in your hands, trying it on couldn’t hurt… Right? You sigh, taking off your shirt and shorts before slipping the dress on. You audibly gasp at your reflection in the mirror, a hand going over your mouth. The dress hugged your body perfectly, it wasn’t tight but it fit in all the right places. You looked hot.

“Everything alright?” Maggie knocked on the door. You rushed over to the door, opening it.

“Dude…” You mutter in disbelief as you show yourself off to them. Maggie clasped her hands together laughing.

“Girl. If I wasn’t helping you get with Daryl I’d be all over you right now.” Rosita smirks, looking you up and down as you smack her shoulder playfully.

“Well are you gonna wear it or not? I think you should, if you have Rosita thirsting over you then imagine how Daryl is going to react when he picks you up like this.” Maggie giggles, fixing the back of your dress.

You bite your lip in thought, “I don’t know….” Rosita almost slaps you with how fast she turns around to grab you.

“Why not!? You look so fucking hot right now and I swear to god Daryl will think the same.” You laugh slightly at Rosita’s shock, Maggie murmuring agreement with her.

You let out a breath, shaking your head as you turn to the mirror. Fixing your hair a bit and brushing over the dress, a small smiling tugging at your lips as you nod. “Okay fine I’ll wear it, but only because I want to. Not because I want to impress Daryl.” Maggie rolls her eyes playfully as Rosita jumps up clapping.

“Okay well don’t let us bother you, and have fun tonight.” Maggie giggles, taking Rosita to leave, “not too much fun.” She jokes while winking and leaving the room causing you to shoot a glare at her as the door closes behind them.

You go to grab some small heels which surprisingly matches the colour of the dress and quickly look yourself over. Fixing your hair properly this time. Now all that’s left is to wait for Daryl to come pick you up… You take a deep breath, muttering a small affirmation before exiting your room and going downstairs to wait for Daryl.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, a familiar three beat knock shatters your thoughts. Immediately standing up and walking over to the door, taking yet another deep breath before opening the door.

There he was. Daryl was standing there dressed in his normal attire but neater. His eyes widened at the sight of you, discreetly looking you up and down. A small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before averting his gaze after a moment, causing you to blush and look down at your feet.

“You look… great.” He breathes out, a small smile playing at your lips as you mumble a small thank you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, not noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. He cleared his throat, moving to the side to let you exit your house, “well let’s get going then.”

You guys started walking towards the middle of Alexandria where the cookout was being held, you felt a bit nervous for tonight as you were worried about fucking everything up. You glanced up at Daryl who had a slight smile playing at his lips, you sighed softly as you looked back down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You two walked in silence, the air was tense. Neither of you said anything before you got to the cookout. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw Carol cooking up some rabbit stew by one of the picnic tables. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered to Daryl, giving him a pat on the shoulder before darting towards Carol. Daryl stared after you for a moment, a slight frown on his face when you left him.

Carol shook when you approached her from behind and smacked a hand on her shoulder, placing down a large pot of soup as she looked at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that, I could’ve dropped that and I bet a lot of people here would be very mad at you for destroying everyone’s favourite rabbit stew in town….” You rolled your eyes, turning your head to find Daryl before nodding your head over to him. Carol narrowed her eyes confused as she looked at you, “you got a neck problem or something?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you muttered to her. “Daryl’s over there.” Her eyes lit up before immediately smacking you on the head, causing you to yelp and hit her back.

“What are you doing here with me? Go talk to him you idiot.” She grinned, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the pot of soup. Before you could argue she pushed you away, “go, I’m busy anyway.” She giggled as you glared at her, taking a deep breath and turning to walk in Daryl’s direction. He was over by the drink table, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. Your eyes traveled down to his throat in which his adam’s apple bobbed when swallowing the liquid, his bicep flexing when he moved his arm. You immediately shook your head to escape those thoughts and looked around to make sure no one was watching you practically drooling over him.

You took a deep breath before approaching him, a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him. He glanced down at you, his usual tough demeanour faltering and he flashed you a quick smile. “You wan’ a drink?” He offered, gesturing to the table. Your gaze moved towards the table, scanning over it before eyeing the bottle of red wine. He immediately followed, picking up a glass and pouring some for you. He shyly handed you the glass before taking your hand and dragging you along with him. The contact of his hand holding yours was enough to make your knees shake, looking at the back of his head as he led you through the crowd.

He finally let go of your hand once you guys got to a more secluded spot of the area, he took a seat by the tree nearby. You quickly followed suit, making sure to hold your dress down as you went to sit beside him, once you sat you took a sip of your wine to calm your nerves. He slowly shifted closer to you, taking his vest off and placing it over your lap which made you look up at him.

“Don’ wan’ anyone to look up yer skirt.” He mumbled, sitting back against the tree and taking a swig of his whiskey. You blushed, hiding your face by drinking some more of your wine. He noticed and chuckled a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. He immediately retracted his hand, “sorry.”

You shook your head giggling as he watched you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine.”

“You really are pretty tonight.” He mumbled, clearing his throat as he looked you over again. You chuckle, placing your hand on his knee.

“Thanks, you look good too y’know. Clean.” He snorts at your statement, hiding a grin behind his glass. You try to grab his head and turn him to you, the both of you giggling as you quickly discard your glass of wine, the substance seeping into the ground beneath you.

“Stop hiding… You’re so cute when you smile.” You blurt out, causing Daryl to pause for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head. You were glad you drank, the alcohol probably aiding you with even looking at him. “You are.” You insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face.

He pulls back which makes your brows furrow together, worried that you may have made him uncomfortable. “Don’ say things like tha’.” He murmurs, only fueling your confusion.

You tilted your head to try and read his expression, but like always you couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking. He was hiding behind his hair again, you tried to reach up to brush it away. To look into those piercing blue eyes you grew to love but he backed away. “Stop, ya shouldn’. We shouldn’t.” He said gruffly. You frowned, moving closer to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, a twinge of hope in your tone as you placed a hand on his knee. He shifted away and cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair.

“We shouldn’ do things or say stuff we don’ mean.” Your heart broke at his sentence. Maybe you were right, he didn’t like you like that. You moved away slightly, a gap in between the both of you as you sat in silence. You played with your fingers, a lump in your throat as you realized you probably made him uncomfortable. You beat yourself up mentally for being too bold with him, thinking about how you should’ve just stayed home tonight.

He glanced at you, nibbling the inside of his bottom lip before grunting, moving closer to you before speaking softly. “What I mean is, I don’t wanna do somethin’ you don’ want an’ scare ya off.” You looked at him, tilting your head as you bite the edge of your thumb.

You took a deep breath as you processed his words, still looking up at him as you narrowed your eyes questioningly. “I like ya, (Y/N).” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head as he again, shifted away from you. You said nothing for awhile which only piqued Daryl’s anxiety, making him wonder if you even heard him.

“I like you too.” You physically cringed hearing the words come out of your mouth, feeling like you were in middle school again. He chuckled, leaning back against the tree and staring up at the purple sky. You looked at him for a moment, the soft summer breeze was blowing his hair gently and causing it to occasionally fly into his eyes, giggling when he grunted about it. You also leaned against the tree, your head turned towards him the entire time as you stared at him with eyes he never thought would be directed towards him. He turned his head to look back at you, a soft smile playing at his lips before he opening his mouth to speak.

“Wanna get outta here?” Once you nodded he smiled, standing up and offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. He took his vest back and wrapped it around your shoulders to keep you warm which didn’t really help due to there being no sleeves, but the feeling of his affection did. You interlocked your fingers together with his as he led you through the crowd for the last time tonight, his heart skipped a beat when you initiated the hand holding and he felt a warm feeling in his chest. One he never knew he’d get to experience.

He eventually brought you over to his house in which he shared with Carol, letting you enter first as he came in behind you. His large hand lingering over the small of your back while you took off his vest, mumbling gratitude as you handed it back to him. He chuckled, placing the vest on the couch as he took a seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“Carol won’t be home ‘til late tonigh’, reckon it’s gotta do with the cookout.” He grumbled, watching you sit down. He took time to watch you, noticing the way more of your thighs were exposed when your dress rode up. He quickly averted his gaze, biting his bottom lip as he rubbed the scruff on his chin. You just nodded, silently leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

He laughed silently, “yer awfully quiet tonight. Why’d the sudden confession change the way you act aroun’ me?” You slapped his chest gently, hearing a quiet “there it is” from him as you lifted your head up.

“It’s just… different. I guess it’s just me seeing you in a different way, officially.” He snorted, glancing over at you. His eyes caught a glimpse of the low cut neckline of your dress, your cleavage practically flaunting in his face. His head shot up towards the ceiling, a gruff chuckle escaping him.

“What kinda way you see me before?” He grunts as he mocks your words slightly, you shake your head and placed your head against his shoulder once more.

“Never wanted to admit my feelings for you, not even to myself. I always just thought you saw me as a friend and nothing more.” You mumbled, absentmindedly tracing shapes into the back of his hand with your finger. He smiled at the gesture before looking up in thought.

“It was the same fer me.” He rubbed over his face with his left hand, “if you didn’ ask me out today I probably never would’ve.” You hummed softly in acknowledgement, silently happy you were literally peer pressured into asking him out.

His hand grasped yours, rubbing circles into your hand with his thumb, sighing softly. “I’d probably still be sneaking glances at you. Who am I kiddin’ I’ll probably still do that.” He chuckled softly as you grinned stupidly. His heart swelled at your smile. Wanting to see more of it he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it gently while you giggled at his stubble scratching against it. “I love the way you sound.” He added softly, looking at you with eyes you never knew was possible for him to make. This Daryl was way different from the one you met all those years back at the quarry, you weren’t complaining. You just hoped you’d be the only person he looked at this way.

You both sat in silence as you stared at each other, gradually leaning closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against yours. The way his lips felt against yours was perfect, better than any pair of lips that fell upon your own. The kiss went on for awhile, it was soft, innocent. His hand moved to your cheek, tilting your head as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. You gratefully granted it and his tongue slipped into your mouth, the faint taste of whiskey and tobacco lingering on his tongue. You hummed into the kiss and felt his breath hitch from the vibration, reluctantly you both pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together.

“Daryl… can we go to your room?” You broke the silence, feeling his hot breath against your face. He stroked your hair and pulled back with his brows furrowed.

“Ya sure…? I don’ wanna do anything you don’ want to do.” He was serious, looking into your eyes. Once you nodded he hesitantly grabbed your hand and gently guided you towards the basement where he claimed his bedroom. His hand no longer lingered on the small of your back, now fully pressing against it as he held your hand with his free one, guiding you down the stairs and into his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, turning back to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips. He let out a shocked noise which you found cute, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed you back. The kiss quickly deepened, your tongues moving together in a sensual dance as he backed you up towards his bed, gently placing you down.

He pulled back, sitting next to you. You immediately sat up to try and kiss him again but he stopped you, “(Y/N), you drank earlier. ‘m not gonna do anythin’ if yer drunk, ya know that.”

You shook your head, moving closer. “I had two sips, barely enough to get me drunk. And I know I want this, especially with you. Only you Daryl.” You whispered, noticing the way his breathing became shallow as you moved closer.

“Ya sure? (Y/N), I need you to be absolutely sure. I—I don’ wanna hurt ya.” He nibbled his bottom lip anxiously. You placed a hand on his chest, your eyes clouded with desire, feeling the way his heart beat faster. He watched as you lowered your head towards his neck, kissing and licking the skin there, closing your eyes as he groaned quietly.

“I’m sure.” You whispered against his skin and caused him to shiver before he took you by the shoulders, pushing you onto the bed. No further words were needed as he started kissing your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. You shook underneath him as small pleas escaped your lips.

He growled quietly, nibbling you and leaving small bites on your neck, searching for one spot. You let out a louder than intended moan, there it is. There was one thing about Daryl, he was good at finding things. He continued to kiss and suck on the soft spot of your neck, quiet noises left your mouth almost pathetically as you fell apart underneath him. He pulled back to look at you, his breath hitching as he saw the state you were in. Your face was flushed, eyes closed, and your lips were parted. Red and swollen from your previous making out. You whined softly, raising your hands to try and feel him again. He swallowed hard. He barely even touched you and yet you were so… so needy.

“Jesus (Y/N)…” He muttered under his breath, lightly tracing over your knees before pushing them apart. Rubbing his chin as he stared down at you, grabbing you by your shoulders, “sit up girl.” He helped you sit up, kissing your lips softly before looking into your eyes once more. His hand moved to your back, playing with the zipper of your dress. He looked up at you for permission, you gave a nod and he smiled softly, kissing your temple before slowly unzipping your dress. He slowly slipped your dress down, kissing your shoulder gently as his left hand rubbed your knee comfortingly.

Soon he pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. His eyes traced over your body, thinking he’d never live to see this moment. You shivered as the cold air hit your body and he immediately encircled you, his arms moved around your body as he went to press his lips against yours once more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and giggled into the kiss when his stubble tickled you, his hand running through your hair gently. The feeling of his nails scratching your scalp made you shiver excitedly. Gently, his hands moved down your body but they moved with hesitation. It was like he was treating you as if you were fragile and would crumble if he moved too quickly.

“Don’t hold back Daryl…” You whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He nodded, looking back down as his hands moved with more force. He lightly traced over the straps of your bra, playing with the little bits of lace as he moved down to kiss your collarbone. His tongue darting out to lick over to the bra strap, kissing your shoulder before slipping the strap off your shoulder. All while glancing up at you to make sure there were no signs of discomfort, you looked back down at him and smiled softly causing his heart to skip a beat. He pressed another loving kiss to your lips before slipping the other strap off your shoulder, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra with ease. He tossed your bra onto the floor, backing up to look at you. After he said nothing you felt a rush of embarrassment, shyly covering your breasts from him.

“No, no, no…” He whispered, taking your hands and moving them to your side, “don’ hide ‘em. Yer beautiful.” He quickly kissed your cheek, then your chin, your neck, and then finally the valley of your breasts. You let out a soft whimper as his lips moved over to your left breast, kissing the flesh gently before parting his lips and placing it over your nipple. A shocked but pleased moan exited your mouth while his left hand moved to massage your other breast, his tongue swirling around. Your eyes fluttered shut when his mouth moved to give your other breast attention, your lips parted and let out soft gasps of pleasure. Your hand moved to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and gripping it gently, causing him to grunt against you.

He moved back giving your chest one last kiss before unbuttoning his shirt, you reached up to help him. Hands shaking with anticipation as each button was undone, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor. He kissed you intensely, pushing you down onto the bed and pressing a knee in between your legs. Your hands moved to touch his chest, tracing over the scarred skin. He flinched back, suddenly self conscious about the scars all over his back and chest. You knew about his trauma, you were one of the only people he opened up to, but this was your first time seeing it. Noticing his anxiety, you leaned up on your elbows, tracing the scars gently. Pressing your lips against them, feeling his tense body relax under your touch, he let out a deep sigh as you showed affection towards him like this. Closing his eyes as his love for you only grew deeper, never in his life would he have thought someone would creep this deep into his heart.

He pushed you back, his lips finding yours as his hand lingered down over the waistband of your panties. You groaned into his mouth as his fingers slipped under and over to your wet pussy, his breath faltered at how wet you were. How eager you were for him.

“Daryl.” You breathed out when he parted from your mouth, his fingers gently rubbing your clit.

“Mm?” He hummed next to your ear, his middle finger dipping through your slick as he continued to rub your sensitive nub. A choked moan escaped you as he did this, his other hand running his fingers through your hair as he shushed you. “Easy…” You bit your lip as the hand in your hair left to pull your panties down, tossing it onto the floor to join the other clothes.

His fingers left you momentarily as he moved down the bed slowly to look at your glistening pussy. He placed a hand on your thigh, spreading your open further while you looked down at him. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, lips parted as your breathing came out shallow and ragged. He pushed his index finger past your folds, groaning at how wet you were as he teased your entrance. Your whining was enough to make him twitch in his pants, suddenly realizing how tight his pants felt. He let his index push into your entrance, feeling your tight walls convulse around the digit and hearing a moan escape you. He smirked from his place as he looked up at you, “alrigh’ up there?” Your eyes were shut tight while your brows were pressed together, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. He took your confirmation as a sign to start pumping his finger in and out of you, your legs shaking.

You were kind of embarrassed by how this man had you shaking just by one finger, but it’s been awhile since you’ve last done this with anyone. Plus it was Daryl fucking Dixon… You let out yet another pathetic moan, your hand coming up to cover your noises out of embarrassment. He stopped moving his finger and you whine, looking down at him. He had a frown on his face.

“Don’ cover yer mouth, lemme hear those pretty noises from you darlin’.” He drawled lowly, you whimpered as you slowly lowered your hand and he continued moving his finger. He eventually slipped a second into you, stretching you out. You threw your head back against the bed as you cried out in pleasure. After a moment he removed his fingers, only to replace it with something warm. You gasped out once you realized it was his tongue pressing against your clit.

“D—Daryl…” You stuttered, your fingers finding themselves in his hair. He lapped at your pussy, eating you out as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten in his entire life. Loud moans echoed through his room as you tugged on his hair, lifting your hips to grind against his face. He grunted against you, holding your hips with his large hands as he held you down, slurping up your arousal.

Moans kept spilling out of you as he kept sucking at your clit, feeling a familiar feeling building up in your stomach. You whimpered, pushing his head further down against you. “Fuck Daryl… I’m gonna…” You groaned when he slipped a finger into you again, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “I’m gonna cum.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge as another finger pumped into you. The amount of attention he was giving your pussy was overwhelming as his fingers curled inside of you, fingertips just barely brushing over your sweet spot. You mewled, pulling his hair hard as he curled his fingers again, sucking on your clit in the process. He could tell you were close and he pumped and curled his fingers faster, finally hitting that sweet spot inside of you. A loud moan spilling out of your mouth as your head pushed back further into the bed.

“Tha’s it… come fer me..” He mumbled against your clit, sending you over the edge and reaching that climax. Your fluids rushing onto his fingers, which he pulled out. His tongue darting towards your juices and licking it all up. You let out a small whimper as lewd noises of him slurping all your juices up rang through your ears. He licked you clean, lifting his head up and wiping his chin with his forearm, covered in your release. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. He licked his fingers clean, rolling his eyes back with a low groan. “So sweet…” He whispered, eliciting a whine from you.

He quickly started unbuckling his belt, needing to free his almost painful erection. You whimpered again, his hands twitching at the noise. “Daryl…” You whispered so desperately you normally would’ve been embarrassed, but the ache between your thighs and the desire for him was too strong for you to even care.

“Shh.. I got ya..” He whispered, moving closer to you as one hand gently caressed your cheek, the other continuing to unbutton his pants. He placed a sweet kiss to your temple while the hand on your cheek moved to push your hair out of your face. “So beautiful.”

He planted another kiss to your head before moving back to shove his pants down, you eyed the bulge in his boxers. You moved to sit up and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He chuckled lowly, caressing your head as he looked down at you. His lustful eyes peered down at you as you looked up at him with your own desperate ones. Before you could pull him out of his underwear he stopped you, pulling back.

“Hold on.” He whispered softly, moving to his bedside table and rummaging through it. Your gaze followed him, crawling over on the bed towards him, “shit.” He muttered, a frown on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting on your knees as he went to cup your face. He kissed your lips sweetly, apologetically. “Sorry (Y/N)… I think we have to do this another time, I don’ got any condoms.”

You took his hands from your face, kissing his knuckles. Feeling his calloused fingertips run against your palms. “It’s okay… I don’t mind.” You said gently and looked down at his fingers laced with yours. His eyes widened and he frowned once again, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Ya sure? I don’… I don’ think tha’s a good idea (Y/N),” he murmured softly. You sighed, lowering your hand to palm him through his briefs, earning a grunt from him as his hand gripped your wrist. You looked into his eyes, begging him to just continue without it. His grip on your wrist loosened and you continued to move your hand against him, a low groan escaping him. “(Y/N).”

“Please Daryl… I don’t care. Just pull out.” You pleaded with him, you just needed him inside of you. Feeling more aroused the more he kept you waiting. His bangs were over his eyes again, ”I’ll have to trim those soon.” You thought to yourself, he kept silent as if contemplating the idea. He nodded slowly, taking your chin and lifting your face to his before smashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His tongue met yours messily as he pushed you down onto the bed, his hands finding your breasts again. Kissing him was addicting, it felt right. You let out a small moan into his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. A low growl escaped him as he pulled back, slipping off his boxers. Your eyes travelled down to see his cock, your breath catching from how hard it was. Not to mention how huge he was. He groaned, taking hold of himself and stroking himself slowly to relieve some of that tension, precum starting to dribble out of his tip. You pulled him down by his neck, connecting your lips once more while you replaced his hand with your own. Jerking him off slowly as he groaned deeply into your mouth.

“Hol’ on baby.” He whispered sweetly, taking your hand away from him. He moved back, keeping his hands on your knees as you looked up at him. Your expression one of pure lust and desire, the dim light of his lamp highlighting your curves, your body scarred from past battles and years of being in the apocalypse. Your hair was perfectly splayed around the pillow framing your head and your lips were parted, swollen. The hands on your knees slowly pushed them apart, spreading you open for him. He groaned at the sight unravelling in front of him, his cock twitching as his gaze wandered down to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

His finger dipped down to touch your pussy as he jerked himself off slowly, a mewl spilling out of your mouth at the sensation. His touch was so light and delicate it almost hurt. “Daryl please.” You pleaded, not wanting to continue this any longer. You needed him inside of you. He got the memo, nodding while grabbing your hips with one hand as the other grabbed his dick and positioned it at your entrance.

“Fuck yer so wet.” He drawled, his tip running through your folds as you whined impatiently. He chuckled quietly, lowering his head to kiss your jaw, sucking gently. “So impatient.” He growled, kissing down your neck and over to your breasts. His tip pushing into you slowly.

You let out a cry as he slowly pushed into you, his thick dick stretching you, your walls convulsing around him as you struggled to adjust. He cursed into your neck, kissing the sweet spot on your neck while a hand moved into your hair to try and distract you from the pain. You whimpered, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on anything but the pain as he continued to push in slowly. He caressed your hair and kissed up your neck and over to your jaw, shushing you. Murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he bottomed out, halting once he fully entered. You weren’t necessarily a virgin but the last time you’ve ever had sex was before the apocalypse, and he wasn’t as big as Daryl.

“Move.” You whimpered breathlessly, he looked up at you for confirmation and when you nodded he slowly pulled out. Only to push back in, eliciting a whine from you. He hesitantly continued and soon the pain turned into pleasure, a deep moan erupting from you as he kept his face buried in your neck. His hot breath turning you on further as he started to bite at your neck, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

He let out a low groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he moved down to your breasts once more. His tongue darting out and licking your nipple while his hand moved to pinch the other. Everything quickly became overwhelming as your back arched off the bed and into him, a loud moan escaping you once more. You didn’t care about being too loud, you were too in bliss to even think about someone hearing you. Your hands moved into his hair, tugging it and causing him to grunt in your ear. His pace quickened and the squelch of his dick pumping into your wet cunt echoed through the room.

His lips returned back to yours, your tongues meeting in an intimate dance as his hips snapped relentlessly into you. You could do nothing but moan into his mouth and tug his hair, his own hands gripping at your hips, probably going to leave bruises in the morning from how tight he was holding onto you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, your teeth clashing together while moans and whines poured out of your mouth and into his. He swallowed up your noises, pressing his mouth right up against yours to muffle your sounds. All while pounding into you at a rough pace.

One of your hands trailed down his neck and onto his back, digging your nails into his skin and releasing your mouth from his. He buried his face into your neck, groaning more as you scratched his back and pulled his hair. His hips stuttering slightly. You held him close, wrapping your legs around his waist while he tried to speed up again. The headboard was hitting the wall now and the bed was creaking with every thrust he gave. Your moans blended perfectly together with his heavy groans, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing through his room.

You started to shake, that same feeling building up in your stomach as your walls throbbed around him, eliciting a choked moan from him as he slipped an arm under you. Soft gasps came out of your mouth, your throat hoarse from all your screaming and moaning, but they kept on coming. He held you close to him, acknowledging the fact you’re close.

“Almost there baby, hold on fer me.” He grunted into your ear, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and irregular as he also chased towards his climax. You quietly whined into his ear, your pussy clenching around his dick. His eyes rolled back into his head as your walls trapped him inside of you, thrusting deeper into you and hitting that sweet spot.

You threw your head back, arching off the bed as you let out a loud moan of his name. Releasing all over his cock and onto his bedsheets.

“So tight…” He moaned softly, pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He collapsed on top of you, not fully pressing his body weight on you. The two of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breaths. After a moment he lifted off of you, kissing your jaw. You kept your eyes closed, lips parted in a soft breathing while he whispered into your ear. “Be righ’ back.”

You can hear him walk into the bathroom, a bit of shuffling around before he comes back into the room. You were right where he left you, eyes closed and covered in cum. You could hear him chuckle quietly before a cold feeling hits your skin, your eyes snap open in shock and he shushes you. You look down and notice he’s wiping you clean with a wet towel. Relaxing, you lay your head back down on the pillow, enjoying the cold feeling on your hot skin as he wipes you completely clean. He leaves for a second time to throw the towel into a laundry bin, walking back up to you and smiling softly as he watches you wrap yourself up in his blanket.

“Got some room fer me?” He drawled, chuckling softly. You open your eyes a bit, lifting your arm to welcome him. He quickly got into bed with you, shutting off his lamp as he pulled the covers over the both of you, kissing your forehead. “Okay?” He asked quietly, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Better than okay.” Your voice cracked, hoarse from all the moaning. He just breathed out softly in response, holding you into his chest.

“Y’know I wanted our first time to be special…. but ‘m not entirely upset with how this went.” He snorted, squeezing you gently. You laughed gently, lifting your head to peck his lips.

“It was special.” You argued lightly, kissing his cheek before relaxing in his arms. He looked down at you, there wasn’t much light in the room but he could still make out your features. He smiled to himself, glad that tonight happened the way it did. Nothing else was said as you both slowly succumbed to sleep.

You woke up when you felt no one beside you, panicked you sat up and looked around for Daryl. Your shoulders relaxing when you heard the sink in the bathroom, quickly getting up and slipping on your underwear along with your bra. You didn’t have any place to be so you decided to just stay here for the morning, grinning as you found one of his shirts. Bringing it up to your nose and smelling it, tobacco and his natural musk filling your senses. You put it on, blushing at the fact that you could now wear his clothes.

“Oh my god.” You turned around at the sound of Daryl’s voice, he stood there at the doorframe of the bathroom. Looking you up and down before walking up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “you look so gorgeous (Y/N)…” He kissed the top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly as you giggled.

“You going out?” You beamed up at him, knowing he usually wakes up early to hunt. He nodded, kissing your head again before ruffling your hair and letting you go.

“Yeah, ya should probably go get somethin’ to eat. Wouldn’ want yer pretty self to be hungry.” You giggled, nodding before turning to go upstairs. He smirked as he watched you leave, his eyes trailing over the marks on your neck. He shook his head grinning to himself as he got his gear ready.

You walked into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and grabbing some leftover food from the cookout. Jumping when you closed the door and saw Carol, “jesus fucking christ.”

“So you did fuck him on the first date.” Carol smirked at you, following you over to the table. You rolled your eyes, hiding a grin. “So are you together now? Finally? After months and months of painful interactions that I had to witness and hear about with my own two ears and eyes???”

You scoffed, opening your mouth to answer before Daryl stepped into the room.

“Mornin’.” He gruffed, waving to Carol and kissing your head before heading towards the front door. “See ya later, (Y/N)…” He looked you over once again before leaving, crossbow in hand.

You turn your head back to Carol, a light blush on your face along with a grin. “Got my answer.” She grinned.

You giggled softly, picking at your food. “It’s…. a work in progress…”

likes, reblogs, + comments vv appreciated !

[sharkboywrites]

please, a sal fisher x autistic male reader

ur writing is so good and I wish I could write like you. lots of love! <3

Sal Fisher With an Autistic Male S/O

A/N: Yayyy writing for Sally Face I love this game sm, I'm considering replaying it (I need to but it on my switch tho). I just love this game and all of the characters, it holds my heart, so exited to write for it, Sorry it got a lil angsty at the end, but I guess we all know how the game ends :(

Male Reader, Autistic Reader

The two of you probably met through school

You were the 'weird" quiet kid, didn't talk a lot, needed some help in class, and all around didn't have many friends

It was the average school day, the average torture of high school, when Sal showed up

A new kid from New Jersey is what you overheard from all the other kids, but you figured with your luck a new student wouldn't take any type of interest in you

That was until you saw him

A shorter boy with blue hair and a prosthetic mask

He was in your geometry class, and since the rest of the desks and tables were filled up, except for yours because you wanted to sit by yourself and nobody else wanted to sit with you, he sat right next to you

Normally the popular groups of kids would beg the new student to sit with them, find some way to open up a seat, but not this time

But not with Sal, his prosthetic mask and rather cold and blunt demeanor putting everybody else off

Not you though, you knew what it was like to be different

You didn't mind his mask, or his personality, in fact you could relate to him, not that you started talking to him at first, you were still too scared

As the year went on, the two of you did start talking a little bit, chats about the lessons, how much you despised the teacher, and even giving each other the homework answers when you forgot to do it

You saw him in the hallways and on the way to lunch, hanging out with his friends like Larry and Ash, but you never joined them

You would probably sit with them at lunch, that is if you went to lunch

The cafeteria was way to loud, so you were able to sit in the counselors office for lunch instead

It was after Sal defended you from Travis that you actually started to become closer

The two of you talked more often, found you both have similar interests, and bonded on what made the both of you different from everybody else

You even started to get closer with his friend group and finally felt like you belonged there

It was in your junior year when the two of you got together, although you kept it under the radar for obvious reasons (Travis)

You'd spend days going over to the apartment, meeting his dad, listening to him play the guitar, petting Gizmo, playing video games, and doing the usual spooky apartment activities

You never really got into their shenanigans, sometimes Sal would tell you all about them and sometimes he would be more hesitant

But the whole bologna incident was hard to hide, good thing you never ate those sandwiches

It took a while before he took his mask off in front of you, but when he did he was a bit worried you'd leave him completely

It took a lot of reassuring and comforting that day, but he was more assured and felt a lot better, more comfortable around you

After high school you didn't live together, but you were still close

You'd come over to the boy's place as often as you could, to the point they joked that you lived there

Larry and Todd would poke fun of you and Sal about your relationship, but you would do the same to Todd and Neil

When Ash showed back up, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy with the time they were spending together, although you trust the both of them and would probably never admit it

Of course, with Sal doing his best to keep you out of the paranormal activity, you didn't know when things started to go down hill

When it came out about the murders, you were terrified

You testified up and down that Sal would never do such a thing, but the evidence was all there

Before he was gone, he told you that he had to do it, although you couldn't really understand what he was trying to say

And just like that, you were alone again, people constantly bugging you, trying to get information for whatever true crime podcast they were running, even though you tried to ignore it

Once again you were alone, constantly pointed and poked at, and now Sal wasn't here to comfort you

Uggh I hurt my own feelings at the end. I heard there's supposed to be a second game at some point, which I'm super exited for, ty for reading and have a nice day

[aster-oid]

To the stranger I knew too well

Summary: When your recurrent dreams about a puppet become out of hand, a reality check feels like the only way to get back to normalcy. Fate proves you wrong.

Pairing: Wanderer & gn!reader (post Irminsul), the relationship is heavily implied to be platonic

Content warnings: Reader is gender neutral, mentions of blood and murders but I don't go into details, slight angst, Wanderer is bad with feelings, platonic content

Word count: 7.2k | Soulmate AU

Comments: A special thank to my beta @ladyfocalors for always brainrotting with me about Genshin characters. We'll platonify the Genshin soulmate AU one work at the time /lh

It took you years to understand that your frequent lucid dreams about an Inazuman electricity-wielder leader were actually the memories of your soulmate.

To your parents' defense, every normal individual would have dismissed the idea. While your soulmate wearing an extravagant hat wasn’t impossible, your tales about a place shrouded in darkness and an Electro-user without a Vision sounded like a child's fantasy. There was no such thing in Teyvat.

You quickly got the reputation of an imaginative kid. Adults liked to ask you about your dreams.

"What a smart child you are!", they cooed once you finished recalling your visions. "You could write a storybook!"

Your younger self would shoot them the dirtiest glare they could muster. Unfortunately, adding that the protagonist was a puppet made hundreds of years ago was not the convincing argument you thought it was. To the layperson, your visions were nonsensical dreams.

But you knew what you saw. It felt real. Terribly, shockingly real. Most often that not, you woke up from these flashes with the taste of iron in your mouth, static filling your sight, your muscles locked into place. You were trapped in your own unresponsive body. Even your breath was stuck in your throat. But the worst part of your awakenings was the sticky feeling on your hands. No matter how many times you scrubbed, it lingered on your skin. You didn't know what it was at that time, just that it made you feel gross and that it would sometimes reappear if you washed your hands hard enough.

You learnt what blood was before you knew how to spell the color red. 

When one is repeatedly told that they're wrong, they will come to believe it. You were no exception. As the years passed by, you pushed those fantasies in the back of your mind. The adults in your life must have been right. You were just a strange kid with gruesome dreams, that was all.

Despite knowing that they were figments of your vivid imagination, the sights of snow-covered plains and bloody massacres haunted you well into adulthood. They had grown more complex. Details you didn’t notice as a child seemed obvious now that you had more experience. You could also recall conversations better. That’s how you learnt the name of the body you inhabited. Well, it was more correct to say you learnt multiple names for them. Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche, the Balladeer... It was like you could never make up your mind.

The puppet you temporarily inhabited was as elusive as the wind: no fixed name to call them and no face to match. They fled mirrors when they saw one, preventing you from seeing their appearance. The only thing you knew about them was their title: number Sixth of the Fatui Harbinger. A seat that was left vacant for centuries according to every Fatuus you asked.

Your constant daydreaming was annoying but manageable until you started having visions about Kunikuzushi taking over Sumeru. You saw them getting experimented on to become one with a robot, wincing in pain at the hands of a masked doctor, rambling about their birth-given right to access godhood, taunting a blonde traveler; a chain of events that could only make sense in a dream. The problem was that your reverie was affecting your daily life. You couldn’t go through a day without getting assailed by memories that weren’t yours. You had to stop halfway through any task, discussing became hard and sleep rarely came to you.

There was little you could do as you didn’t know what had worsened your visions. You were hoping it would go away by itself.

That was until a particularly haunting dream. As usual, you were but a spectator seeing through the Balladeer’s eyes. You saw a hand -their hand- reach for a chess piece, leaning forward as much as they could. Your blood went cold. They were about to fall over the edge of the platform! Your gaze darted everywhere. There was nothing on the distant ground that would break their fall. For the first time in your life, you realized that they could die. Scaramouche, the one you had observed for decades, could die.

You were the only one to realize how far they were leaning. They only had eyes for the violet pawn in front of them, begging and begging with a shaky voice. It had never sounded so frail, so raw with hurt and panic.

"Please, anything but the Gnosis!" 

It’s not worth it! you tried to scream. Stop! You didn't know why this Gnosis was so important to them but it was nothing dying for. Alas, no matter how hard you tried to move your mouth, the body refused to answer to you. You were nothing but a witness of a tragic scene, a powerless ghost with a bleeding heart. Your throat was thick with emotions you were not allowed to express.

Your dream ended in a snap, quite literally. A tearing sound erupted from behind you before you were sent falling down, pain flaring in your back. You bit down a scream as the world turned to blurry shades of blue and fluttering black bangs. The increasing speed made your eyes water and your body burn. You clenched your teeth. The fall was inevitable. Maybe it made you a coward but you couldn't bear to see it. You didn’t want to see Kunikuzushi die. Muttering an apology to the stranger in your dreams, you squeezed your teary eyes shut. 

The last thing you heard was a wet crushing sound, a mix between eggshells broken under the palm of your hand and a fruit being squashed. Your body jolted in your bed and you gagged, fighting the urge to throw up. You had never felt this sick. Not even when you dreamt of unfair massacres.

You sank to the floor, furiously wiping away the tears beading in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't do it anymore. You had to confront your dreaming problem. There was only one solution: if your brain was so adamant on obsessing over an imaginary character, you had to show it the harsh reality, to remind yourself that Kabukimono never existed.

Your trip to Sumeru was the most spontaneous project you ever planned. You were strolling through the busy streets of Sumeru city the very next day with barely enough money to get back to your nation. You had packed the bare minimum in your suitcase to carry it easily, meaning you wouldn’t be able to stay for more than just a few days.

That was, if you found a room for the night. You had no time to check what the usual prices were in the capital before leaving. Now that you were scouring the streets with your meager funds, unable to find a hotel within your budget, you were bitterly regretting your lack of foresight. You sighed. You supposed that the saying was right. Slow and steady wins the race.

As if it had felt your determination dwindling, the crushing sound echoed in your mind in response. You bit your lip, bile rising in your throat. You hadn't been able to forget about your last dream. It looped in your head like a broken record. Even if impulsively leaving your country was one of your worst ideas ever, the quicker you settled your daydream problem the sooner you'd be back to your normal life. 

Your weary steps lead you to an indoor bazaar. The smell of fried food filled your nostrils, making your stomach growl. You winced. The small homemade sandwich you had earlier couldn't compete with the appeal of street food. Unfortunately you needed to save your funds for a room. You let your gaze wander in the crowded marketplace, trying to distract yourself from the appetizing smell. Colorful stalls were full of fresh fruits, potted flowers and intricate trinkets. If you stood on your toes, you could even see a small theater representation in the farthest part of the bazaar. It was a lively place that perfectly encapsulated Sumeru’s charm.

You were about to turn back when your eyes stopped on a blue silhouette near a candy stand. You didn't know how you missed them earlier. In the brown and green crowd, their traditional clothing and their ornamented Inazuman hat stuck out like a sore thumb. They were in deep discussion with the merchant. Turquoise fabric trailed behind them, floating in the wind.

Without a second thought, you cut through the crowd, never leaving the stranger from your sight. Your heart leaped in your chest when they left the small stall. 

"Hey, you with the hat! Stop!" you yelled. To your dismay, the Inazuman did not even slow down. They must have been too far to hear you. Breaking into a sprint, you called again. "Hat guy!" 

You breached the distance in a few seconds. Just as you were about to grab their shoulder, they turned around. A cold hand snatched your wrist, making you wince. When you looked at its owner, you were greeted with a deep scowl and narrowed indigo eyes. 

"Don't." The man’s low voice warned you, his tone full of unspoken threats. You swallowed uncomfortably as your confidence melted away. He managed to be intimidating in spite petite stature and youthful appearance.

As he glared daggers at you, you were hit by a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You pressed your lips together, studying his messy black mullet and his glowing Anemo Vision. The word popped up in your head. Familiar. The stranger felt familiar.

Wiping the feeling of déjà-vu from your mind, you retreated your hand. "Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention." 

"Well, now you have it," he huffed. Annoyance was written on his face. He crossed his arms. "What do you want?" 

A good question, but not one you had an answer to. Running after the man was a spur of the moment decision.

Self-awareness striked you like a thunderbolt. Why were you even doing this? Your goal was to cure your daydreaming, not to throw yourself headfirst into the rabbit hole nor to annoy a stranger with the tales of an imaginary character.

He clicked his tongue. "Hurry. I don't have all day." 

You huffed. It was true that you were taking too much time to gather your thoughts but he didn’t have to be rude about it. 

"I'm looking for someone,” you said tentatively. It was the closest you could get from the truth without annoying him. Considering his foul mood, the stranger would have walked away if you told him you were looking for the lack of existence of Kunikuzushi, the Sixth Harbinger, the person who tried to become an Archon, someone that only existed in your mind.

The man didn't answer, encouraging you to continue with a movement on the head. His black bangs flew in the light breeze. Now that you had a clearer view of his face, the man seemed more bored than irritated. He wanted the conversation to be over with but he still had the patience to hear you out. This realization gave you the courage you needed to talk again. 

"Their clothes are quite similar to yours, but they're red and black. They also have a hat. A huge one." You opened your arms in emphasis.

He scrunched his brows together, looking at you like you were an idiot. "Right. Because the length of their hat is the most important detail you could give me," he deadpanned. 

You fight the urge to sigh. "I wasn't done. I don't know much about them, but they're linked to the Fatui." The stranger's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was back to glaring at you, his face closed. Unsettled by this sudden tension, you quickly added. "Probably. I'm still not sure about that." There was no Sixth Fatui Harbinger, after all. Your brain had made it up. 

"Of course." His voice was drier than earlier. What little interest he had in your discussion had melted at the mention of the Fatui. You scrunched your brows. You swore you could read another emotion than ire in his eyes, even if you didn’t know what. "Anything else I should know about that... Friend of yours?"

You racked your brain for more details. There was a lot to say about the person in your dream. Their lack of heart, their coup attempt in Sumeru, their bloody killings, the experimentations they underwent... Nothing you could talk about in public without looking crazy, in sum. The only thing you could still mention was... 

"Their name is Scaramouche."

The man went rigid. "What did you say?" he gawked, his eyes wide with shock.

"Scaramouche. I think that's their name?" Truthfully, they were given so many names that it probably wasn't their real one. But it was the one that came up most in your dreams. 

As if it caught onto the tense atmosphere, the wind abruptly stopped blowing. You barely noticed it, focused on the horror shining in the man's eyes. He couldn't believe what you had just said. His piercing eyes analyzed every inch of you with a newfound distrust. 

“Nobody should be able to-” He interrupted himself with a gasp. Recognition flashed across his face. "Wait. You...!"

His face went from surprise to disgust in the blink of an eye. You had barely the time to react before he pulled his hat down over his head, his scowl peeking from behind the rim.

"Of course fate would string something like this..." He let out a bitter laugh. "Has it ever made anything easy for me?"

You watched as crossed his arms, lifting his head to glare at you as if you had purposely wronged him. You tried to appease him by apologizing. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Despite your question, you knew you had done nothing worth this cold attitude. You didn’t know why he was overreacting, why he was looking at you like dirt under his soles.  It’s as if he was personally offended by your description of the Balladeer. You blinked as pieces fell into place. An Inazuman with a strange hat and dark hair, just like the one you were looking for. Could it be…?

"Is that you? Are you Scaram—" 

The man turned around before you could finish your sentence, the blue fabric tied to his hat smacking you in the face. You yelped in pain.

"Don’t use this name." You couldn't see what kind of expression he was making but his flat tone told you enough.

You were standing in front of the protagonist of your dreams.

Reality shattered around you. There were only two reasons for your dreams to be visions of the past. You either were a seer —which was unlikely considering you had no elemental affinity— or you were using your soulmate link. Realization sank in. You had a soulmate. Everything finally clicked together: why you had Scaramouche's memories, why he recognized you, why you never stopped having those dreams… It was because the universe had deemed you a perfect fit.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You were not an anomaly without a soulmate, like you were led to believe. You just didn't pay attention to the signs.

"Wait a minute," you gasped. No matter how happy you were about your discovery, it came a lot of terrible implications. "Does it mean that everything is real? The Fatui, the taking over Sumeru part, everything ?" 

Kunikuzushi immediately clammed up. Not even bothering to look at you, he said without a trace of emotion. "This conversation is over."

Strong wind currents flared all around you with him acting as the epicenter of the small storm he invoked. You stared at him with wide eyes. He was getting away! 

"Please!"

You grabbed his sleeve and tugged hard, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The man gave you the dirtiest glare from above his shoulder as the miniature hurricane intensified. But you didn't let him go. You sank your nails deeper into his arm.

"Listen to me!” you said through gritted teeth. “I'm not gonna pretend I know everything about you because that's not true. I only know glimpses of you. Parts of your past that don't make any sense." 

You closed your eyes as the memories flooded your mind. The Gnosis, the laboratory, the crushing sound as he fell down... You didn't understand what those events meant to him. What kind of story they told. It was like you were in front of an incomplete puzzle where all edge pieces went missing. It was impossible to get the big picture no matter how many combinations you tried.

That didn’t mean the little bits of memories you had taught you nothing about him.

"You were hurt. That much is certain."

Your words only rekindled the fire of his ire. He bared his teeth at you. “Huh?! Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” He stabbed your chest with his finger, forcing you to take a step back. “Seeing glimpses of my past doesn’t give you the right to assume things about me, you worm.”

"But it’s not an assumption. You lived a very long and lonely life. A bloody one too.” You briefly wondered if contrary to you, he had grown accustomed to seeing his hands covered in crimson. You let out a shaky exhale. “But you cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago."

You had the experience to back yourself up. You still weren't sure what the Fatui thing was all about but if you could barely believe it after seeing his memories firsthand, no one else could.

"See, you’re just assuming things again out of pity," Scaramouche snapped. He tore himself from your grasp, sneering. "Guess what? I don't need you to feel sorry about me."

You shook your head. "I wasn't about to."

You were never going to forget the feeling of blood on your hands, the crackling of electricity as you saw someone charred alive, the coolness of a cadaver against your skin. You couldn't bring yourself to feel sorry for this man. It wasn't what someone like him sought. 

Pity was for those forced to live under the ruling of unfairness, not able to object to its cruel laws. Forgiveness was for those that were mothered by this tyrant and dedicated their life to preach its teachings. For now, the Balladeer deserved none of them.

When you opened your eyes, Scaramouche had tipped his hat down, obscuring his expression. His grip on his crossed arms was so tight you thought he was going to break his fingers. 

"You don't understand. You can't understand."

His voice was lower than earlier, almost like a growl. 

It wasn't enough to scare you.

"You're right," you admitted. "I cannot understand you. But I really want to." 

Maybe it was because you knew him on a deeper level than a stranger, but something had changed. You were starting to notice it. The hurt he masked behind a veil of fury. Until his words, you thought he was just an eternally angry man, bitter at the world and at his fate. Now, you wondered if he was just someone who lived through too much. Someone who was ready to beg and kill himself for a glimpse of a better future.

He snorted, disbelief written across his face. “A human like you, understanding someone like me? Don’t make me laugh.” He leaned towards you. You fought the urge to take a step back, withholding his stare with all of the courage you could summon. His mouth contorted into a twisted smile. “You’ve seen what I am capable of. Not only are you fundamentally unable to relate to a fraction of my existence, you’re also unable to withstand it. Understanding me will only bring you trouble.”

“You already do.” Scaramouche didn't utter a word, turning his back to you. You didn't let it get to you, instead squeezing your hand against your chest. "I spent my life stuck with visions I couldn't control. Seeing your memories at random moments robbed me from precious moments with the people I love. From enjoying a normal life, one where I don’t have to fear falling asleep."

Your hands were shaking. Whether from anger or sorrow, you didn’t know. Scaramouche was the one assuming things. You may only be a human, one similar to thousands that have come before you, but you knew how it felt to be misunderstood. How it felt not to belong. Nobody had believed you for decades, nor understood why you were so uncomfortable when it came to sleeping. Even your friends couldn’t wrap their heads about your constant worry of getting lost in the daydreaming. You might as well have been from a different species.

You took a deep exhale. Your anger faded away as quickly as it came. "I feel close to you, no matter how strange it sounds. You've always been a small part of me.” Determination seeped through your tone. “So I won't be able to move on as long as I don't know what's going on with my soulmate."

Soulmate. The word rolled strangely on your tongue. It was the first time you were saying it out loud.

Scaramouche gagged at your word choice. "I'm not looking for a lover." Disgust laced his voice. Seems like you were not the only one who felt weird about the whole situation. 

You shook his concern with a wave of the hand. "Me neither. I'm looking for an explanation. A timeline in a chronological order, if possible." 

Your attempt at a joke fell flat as silence fell between the two of us. Your face shifted into a frown. Had you been too insistent? 

"It's alright if you find the situation strange," you said, trying to save the conversation. "I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that you saw glimpses of my life. This is quite embarrassing...."

You didn't have the most exciting life but there were private moments you wanted nobody to see. Especially not your soulmate. 

He shot you an uninterested look, examining the dirt beneath his nails. "I could not care less about your mundane life."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to get interested in your life as much as you were in his, but was that supposed to be comforting? Unsure how to respond, your face contorted into a polite smile.

None of you said a word after that. You didn't dare move either. Weariness taking over you, you watched as the back of his hair fluttered in the breeze, joining the hypnotizing dance of the blue ribbons. The sound of animated conversations and the ringing of distant bells filled the otherwise tense silence.

You were about to leave when Scaramouche let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He finally turned to you, uttering a single word. 

"Wanderer."

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn't that. "Come again?" 

He rolled his eyes but repeated it anyway. "Wanderer. That’s my name. Not Scaramouche or whatever name you heard in my memories." 

You felt your entire face lit up. You could recognize an olive branch when you saw one. "I won't call you anything else, I promise!"

He sighed at your sudden excitement, shaking his head. You were starting to recognize when he was truly irritated and when he was acting annoyed by habit. This time, the look in his eyes didn't match his bored pout. It was not soft by any means, but he did not glare daggers at you anymore.

"I still don’t think someone like you can handle the tale of centuries of existence.” He clicked his tongue. “That being said, I suppose it would be entertaining to see you try. Come to the entrance of Sumeru city in two hours."

Your eyes widened. You thought that you wouldn’t get more than his name, and now he gave you the opportunity to explain his life ? You had half the mind to pinch yourself awake.

"Don't be late Wanderer!" 

He scoffed, readjusting the position of his ginormous hat. “If I were, you'd scream my name in the streets of Sumeru until you get ahold of me. No thanks."

"I wouldn't do that!"

"Oh, really?" A smug smirk took place on his lips. He cleared his throat before taking a high-pitched voice. " 'Hey, you with the hat, stop right there ! I really want to talk to you! Stop, I say !' "

You gasped in shock. "So you actually heard me! Do you not stop when someone calls you?"

"I do. I just don't typically talk to pipsqueaks."

His grin deepened at seeing your offended expression. He even let out a short laugh. You playfully punched the cheeky bastard on the shoulder, not putting much force in the blow. 

Wanderer didn't budge. He instead grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from him. His eyebrows were pinched together in irritation. "Don’t think you can punch me and get out unscathed, kid."

Despite his words, his grasp on you was light, as if he was careful not to hurt you. It was easy to slip from his hold. He was entertaining you, you realized. Considering how harsh he had been when you first had tried to touch him, a light scold was nothing. 

Mimicking a fighting stance, you started shifting your weight from left to right.

"You're the one who's gonna bite the dust! I can knock out someone with a single blow!" You punched the air to demonstrate, a smile blooming on your face. "I can take anyone in a fight!" 

Wanderer pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated by your playful attitude. "Celestia above, not another Childe..."

You pouted at his words. "Are you calling me a child again? I'll let you know that I'm a fully-fledged adult!" You may not be as old as the immortal puppet but you were no kid by human standards. You were only teasing Wanderer because you needed something light after your heavy talk. He couldn’t base his whole perception of you on a speech stemming from your sleep-deprived self…

He clicked his tongue in his mouth before looking at you directly in the eyes. "You talk big for someone I've seen fall in the stairs several times."

Horror washed over you. Every little embarrassing moment you lived flooded your mind. The fact that Wanderer had seen some of them sent warmth pooling in your cheeks. 

"You said you didn't care about my life!" you said, absolutely mortified. 

"It doesn't mean watching you was not mildly entertaining. Why would I focus on boring Fatui politics talk when I could be the witness to the mess of your teenage years?” Your expression was decomposing by the second, to his delight. "I especially liked it when—"

You cut him off with a nervous laugh. "Alright, alright, I get it. Aren't you busy?" 

His gaze fell into a small pouch at his sides. "I do, actually. Buer must be looking for me."

"Buer? Who's that?" You didn't remember hearing this name in his memories.

"The Dendro Archon," he said like it was the most obvious thing on Teyvat. 

"...Right. Of course.”

Maybe you were a bit too optimistic about his ability to open up to you.

Wanderer couldn't believe himself. Three betrayals should have been enough to teach him that closeness only brought pain. Whether because of misunderstandings, lies or the unpredictable and unescapable scythe of Death, the ending was always the same: he was fated to end up hurt. Alone. Cursing himself for loving too much.

He snorted. He knew all of that and yet here he was, wrapping his job up before his meeting with you. How pathetic.

Part of him was not surprised about this new twist of events. Fate liked to throw him in the most ironic situations. He was currently going on errands for Buer, the same Archon he had tried to supplant her months ago and who took him prisoner. Randomly meeting his soulmate in the middle of the streets was not the most unexpected thing to have happened to him. Far from it. At that point, he was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier.

When Wanderer entered the sanctuary of Surasthana, the Archon was sitting on her swing, humming to herself. The melancholic tune didn’t sound familiar but the lyrics in old Sumerian sang the tale of a love long gone. If he rolled his eyes at the song choice, he was polite enough to wait until the end of the song before clearing his throat.

Buer perked up, finally noticing him. She jumped from the swing and greeted him with a small wave.

"Hat guy!" He cocked an eyebrow at the oh so creative sobriquet, making her giggle. "I’m glad to see you. I was starting to think that you had forgotten about me."

"As if my memory would get faulty. I was held up by someone." Holding his hat to pin it into place, he sat on the lush grass. Reunions with Buer always took a while. He might as well make himself comfortable. 

Familiar curious green eyes landed on him. "Was it a friend from the Akademiya?"

He rolled his eyes. "I had never seen them before."

He had expected this flow of questions. Buer was very invested in his relationships with other people– well, rather his lack of. She had made him participate in social events like the Interdarshan championship to socialize. She even enrolled him in the Akademiya. Her argument was that it would help him understand humanity better, as well as himself. 

The results were arguably mixed. Wanderer admittedly tolerated people a bit better than before. They were predictable creatures but they could be entertaining. Sometimes. On the other hand, he had not grown close to anyone since he started attending classes. Sure, some students followed him around, gushing about the mysterious “hat guy” and throwing a birthday party for him, but he would not call them friends. They were classmates at most. It was for the best: it didn’t matter if Buer claimed he was progressing regarding socialization, talking to him was an experience he wished on no one.

She didn’t seem to agree with him. Excitement and pride shone in her eyes. "Every stranger is a friend in potentiality. That is what makes new meetings so exciting: you might be talking to your new favorite person in Teyvat," she beamed, taking place near him. 

"If you say so." 

Friendship was a human concept. Something he could neither fully understand or get. Melodramatic speeches and lengthy explanations meant nothing to him. That is why Wanderer didn’t try to counter her argument. There was no point in talking about something he knew nothing about.

What he did know was that Buer was wrong. You were no stranger to him.

His gaze fell to his hands. The first time he had seen your memories, Scaramouche had thought he was defective. He had never been able to dream until then. His creator didn’t see the interest in allowing him to do so. The only reason he knew what dreams were was because Niwa liked to recount his when they worked together in the forge. 

One second he was lying down in the laboratory of the Fatui, the other he was in a small bed. Piles of toys were scattered around him, decorating what seemed to be a child’s bedroom. Why on Teyvat was he here? Scaramouche tried to move his arm but it did not move an inch. He cursed under his breath. For some reason, his body refused to listen to him. If it was Il Dottore’s scheme, the man was dead.

Without a warning, his head turned. He was greeted by the reflection of a small child in the mirror of the wardrobe. You.

His mind had been pure madness when he had come back to his senses. He had the time to zap five machines before the Doctor arrived, complaining that his research was being destroyed. The Tsaritsa, the stars, fate itself... He had cursed everything he could think of for giving him a soulmate. There was no other reason behind his sudden ability to “dream”. Fate had decided to intertwine your destinies together. The thought only made him more angry.

He couldn't be mad at the child you were, though. You were barely five. No matter how much of an unfeeling person he was, Scaramouche was not about to hold the situation against someone as young as you. A small part of him, one he had tried to bury for centuries, had even ached to hold your chubby hands in his when he had seen you reach for your reflection.

With the impossibility of breaking a soulmate bond, the Fatui Harbinger had been forced to watch you as you grew. He learnt about your favorite color, the school subject you liked best, the names of your childhood friends, the color of your bedroom, all the details of your ordinary life. He was a spectator to mundane moments, to victories and horrific failures alike.

You had transformed from a kid with shining eyes to a determined adult before his eyes.

If Buer was right and that all friends started as strangers, it meant that you would never be able to grow close to him. You already knew him.

Wanderer plucked a few strands of grass, watching how they fell to the ground. No, hoping for you two to be friends was wishful thinking. You had seen the atrocities he had done as a Fatui Harbinger. Once he filled the gap in your knowledge, you would not want anything to do with him. His erasure from existence didn’t excuse the actions of his past life.

He would not blame you. He deserved your hate. At the end of the day you were another name on the endless list of his victims. Because of your soulmate link, you had lived your entire life plagued by visions you didn't understand, othered because of things out of your control. You were the proof that Wanderer brought suffering just by existing. That he wasn't a fundamentally good person, like the one Buer and Traveler insisted he was. You had every right to loathe him.

That was why he accepted your offer. If he explained everything to you, if he confirmed that every "dream" of yours was true, you would move on. You would forgive Fate for giving you such an unloving person as a soulmate. Maybe you would even want to settle down with someone else... At the end of the day, you'd be free from the chain of destiny. So would he.

The world would let him do a good thing, for a change. 

"While it's true that talking it out will appease both of your minds, you shouldn't only see them as a way to atone for the sins of your past life," Buer intervened. 

Wanderer gave her an unimpressed look, throwing away the rest of the grass strands. "One day, you will have to answer for all of those breaches of privacy before the General Mahamatra."

"Talking about your thoughts with someone else can help you sort them out and gain new insight. I felt like you could benefit from it."

Her growing smile told him that she didn't feel sorry for reading his mind without his consent. He huffed. She was lucky he had grown accustomed to this habit of hers.

She hummed as she stepped in front of him. "Agreeing to a meeting to ease your guilty conscience is not a bad thing in itself. The problem is that you’re assuming that they can only hate you."

“What other reaction could they have?” The answer appeared in his mind before he finished his sentence. “Pity?” Pronouncing the word made his insides hurl. Wanderer would rather feel your wrath than your pity. The former didn’t feel as disgusting as the other;

Buer shook her head. “That’s not it either. It’s alright if you don’t yet understand Wanderer, you will see in due time.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He preferred it when she used complex metaphors. At least he had the opportunity to understand what was going on in her mind, contrary to when she used vague words of wisdom like a drowsy prophet.

"If I can give you one more piece of advice, you should give this relationship a chance." Seeing his scowl of disgust, she explained herself. "I'm not telling you to pursue a romance with them. Just don't assume that tonight is the only time you meet. Keep your mind and your heart open."

Despite her smile, she had a serious look in her eyes. It was the face of wisdom in all of its assured glory. Wanderer closed his eyes. It was easy for him to forget she was not a young child, like the one he took care of all those centuries ago. 

"There is a reason why they're your soulmate," Buer said. "Don't you want to discover why?" 

"Someone like them has nothing in common with me." 

Your memories told the tale of a simple life. In an ideal world, a normal person like you wouldn't have been paired up with him. How it happened in this one was a mystery. If he was inclined to pity others, Wanderer would feel bad for you. Being his soulmate only brought you experiences that you couldn’t talk about to anyone.

“You cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago.” Their hands shook as they lifted their head to meet his gaze. He stilled. He had expected to read loneliness and fire in their eyes. He only found the glow of loneliness. It was the same he had seen in your reflection all those years ago.

Wanderer hid his face behind his hand. He supposed he was wrong. He could see a few ressemblances between you and him. That didn’t necessarily mean you would become friends.

"Don't expect too much from this meeting. I only plan on retelling my story, not on learning more about them."

Gentle hands covered his, pulling them away from his face before lightly squeezing them.

“You don’t need to. You already know them better than anyone else.” Buer's voice was as soft as her expression.

He opened his mouth but no snarky counter-argument came to his mind. From what little insight Wanderer had gained on friendship over the course of his life, sharing experiences with a potential friend wasn’t enough. You also had to learn about the other person's personality, their taste, the little things they did… Such a process was too much work for a relationship that would eventually decay. But the man already knew you, more intimately than any person ever would.

If to be friends was to learn about someone, he had become yours a long time ago.

Wanderer fought the urge to shield his face behind his hat. It would be as good as admitting to Buer her words had struck a chord. No way he would embarrass himself like that.

“You're not going to give up, are you?" he sighed.

“While I do hope you will form a bond with them, I will not hold it against you if it doesn’t happen.” She took some time to think, trying to come up with a convincing imagery. “Fate is a tricky concept. It steers you in a specific direction but it cannot force you to follow it. No matter what, you can always make your own way.”

He let the words sink in as he laid down on the cool grass. From the Sanctuary, he could hear the entire city’s hustle and bustle. The sound of the streets mixed with the chirping of the birds and the rustle of the wind through the branches.

He felt Buer sitting next to him. Her voice interrupted his quiet reverie, sounding cheekier than usual.

"Don't I deserve something in return for my good advice?"

Her eyes were focused on the small pouch hanging at his side.  He had forgotten about it, their conversation had distracted him. Wanderer shook his head in defeat. The Archon didn’t need to use her mind-reading powers to know about the actions of her subjects. 

“If you want to be paid for giving lectures, you should think about becoming a teacher at the Akademiya.”

“I would deprive someone from the joy of educating young minds.”

His lips curled into a grin. “Right. Poor them.”

Feeling her gaze on him, he relented. He unclipped the package from his belt and gave it to her, not bothering to sit back up. Buer tried to open it carefully. It was so full that in spite of her efforts, morsels of candied Ajilenakh nuts spilled on the ground.

Wanderer frowned at the sight of the mess. Something churned inside him. If he had known it would be wasted, he wouldn’t have bought so much food.

“Be more careful,” he chastised her. “It’s expensive.”

Buer shot him a perplexed look. He scoffed in response, averting his gaze. 

"I didn't buy them. The merchant gave free samples to bystanders and he couldn't take no for an answer."

Another white lie from him. He had noticed that Buer didn't have much candy left and since he had to go to the Bazaar anyway, he had decided to buy some. He watched as she inspected a piece of candy, rolling it between her fingers. He didn't get why she was head over heels for those disgustingly sweet nuts but he had to keep her in good spirits. Otherwise, she might decide to lock him back in his cell. That and seeing her smile so much sent warmth running in his chest. 

Her eyes crinkled, amused. "A free sample? How nice," she said, popping one of the delicacies in her mouth. He supposed there was no fooling the Archon of Knowledge. She pointed at him. "Your friend hasn't had the opportunity to try food from Sumeru, have they? You could bring them to Lambad’s and keep some of the Ajilenakh nuts to snack on."

“We have other things to do than distract ourselves with culinary tourism.”

“It’s not a distraction! See it as a bonding experience that will allow you to grow closer.”

He arched a brow, unimpressed. “As if I needed something like this to become their friend.”

He stopped after his own sentence. He blinked, not believing what he had just said.

Wanderer didn't know how he ended up in this situation. Truly. He was never one to let Fate decide for him. He defied it at each opportunity, fighting with all he had. This shouldn't have been any different. He was a traveler, an outcast, an outsider. He had no use for a soulmate– a lover. Especially not a human one, one that would be gone in a blink of his immortal life. 

He had no use for a lover, but he supposed that if he had to befriend a single person in the world, it may as well be you.

If you liked this work, please reblog and leave a comment or an ask!

[bigtreefest]

Pour Clueless Babes

Pairing: Bartender! Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: unbeknownst to you both, you and the broody bartender can’t help your want to be around each other

Word count: 1,751

Content/warnings: swears?, slight objectification and misogyny, attempts at hiding feelings, alcohol consumption, teasing from friends, a hint of idiots in love?, a small mention of Curtis’s rooftop herb garden, it’s mostly fluff and mutual pining

A/N: written for Siri’s Birthday Bonenanza!! Love you, babes, and happy birthday. @stargazingfangirl18

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Prompts: Babe is in love and cranky about it + Character A is frustrated at how fucking oblivious Character B is to their advances + “I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.”

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

“You just need to buck up and ask her out.”

Curtis rolled his eyes at his friend sitting in a lawn chair across from him in the rooftop garden, pairing it with a scoff before he took another sip of his beer.

“It’s not that easy, dude.”

Ari, Curtis’s longtime friend, co-owner and often co-bartender of the main dive in town shifted in his seat with a raised brow and tilt of the head. “Sure it is! You’re hot, and from the way you talk about her, so is she. I don’t see what could go wrong.”

Curtis grumbled and finished off his bottle, grabbing another from the bucket of ice and uncapping it. “A lot. A lot could go wrong, Ari. I don’t want a quick fuck and I sure as hell don’t have girls throwing themselves at me like you do on Friday nights.”

Ari scoffed, but had no rebuttal, it was true. Women flocked to Ari’s side of the bar, always creating a crowd where the regulars couldn’t get served. So Curtis took them, while Ari could be caught slinging dozens of fruity drinks for all the flirts who constantly mentioned how strong and attentive he was. The only reason Curtis didn’t complain was because they split tips, Ari getting several banknotes marked with phone numbers and salacious messages, and Curtis getting the peace of the calmer drinkers.

Sure, a woman here and there would come to Curtis for a drink, figuring Ari wasn’t worth the wait and the shoulder bumping, but that was few and far between. Until you.

From the moment he watched you walk through the door, he kept an eye on your searching gaze, smiling when you saw your friends, but making a beeline for him before you went and sat.

The next time you came up to him, though, Curtis made sure your drink was on the house. Anything for the pretty girl who smiled at him. Chose him. And was much more enjoyable than his grumbling regulars.

Curtis was pulled out of this thoughts by Ari’s groan.

“Listen, I don’t think women throw themselves at me…”

Curtis looked at his friend with disbelief at the blatant lie.

“…that much. Not that much, I was gonna finish, jeez. Plus, what’s it matter, it’s not like I take them home…usually. Sloppy drunk isn’t cute and too many of them just keep coming back until I cut them off. No one has chatted me up like they want a date instead of in my pants because all I get are googly eyes, but this sounds different for you. She sounds good.”

Curtis sighed and wiped a hand over his beard. Ari was right. You were good. Probably too good for him. Plus, it’s not like you even noticed any move he tried to put on you. You were probably just being nice, not flirty. You probably didn’t even notice the free drinks using special ingredients made from the garden, the rare smile he’s never given another customer. It was kind of infuriating that he was so ready to give himself over to you and you had no idea just how deep it ran. How it affected him and stayed on his mind even in the off hours. Guys had to be throwing themselves at you, and he was just another one to add on to the bottom of the list.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…I don’t wanna mess it up, ya know? Am I even ready for this? Why now? Why do I have to feel something now? And I don’t even know if she feels the same way!”

Ari only offered a shrug.

“I don’t know, man. When it’s time, it’s time.”

That’s all he gave. Curtis groaned and wiped a hand down his face, rubbing back and forth over his beard once again. “Yeah….it’s just…ugh. I can’t think of anything else. I’ve got all these plans for bar improvement. The herb garden is finally coming in nicely and I was gonna meet with those brunch people from the city to talk about expanding our offerings beyond the few ideas I’ve come up with, but I can’t focus on a goddamn thing other than her.”

Curtis was almost mad it was affecting him so much—that he looked forward to seeing you. Yearned to make you another drink, hold conversation just a second longer. Nothing had ever stuck to his mind this much.

Ari only laughed as he looked over the edge of the roof at the town where the two had grown up. Over all that time, he had never seen his buddy this torn up.

Pulling two more drinks out of the bucket, he uncapped them and handed one to his friend.

“Well, here’s hoping you get this all sorted out. And by that, I mean, get your big boy pants on, fully admit your feelings, and ask her out.”

Curtis groaned and threw a hand over his eyes while his best friend simply smirked, knowing he was right.

It was Friday night and you were hanging out with some of your friends at the bar you had been frequenting lately. Everyone around you was in deep conversation, but you were lost, zoned out, with your mind on only one thing: that gruff bartender.

You had already been up to see him three times this evening, insisting to be the one to get the next rounds for the table in hopes of garnering his attention.

You felt successful. Maybe? Every time you went up to him, his full attention was on you. And it looked like he was smiling, right? Well, no, he probably did that with everyone. Except…in the several times you had caught yourself staring at him, he never once made that same face at another customer. So it had to mean something, didn’t it?

You felt your shoulder shaking, pulling you out of your thoughts and blinked back into consciousness.

“What? What?” You shook your head and looked back at your group of friends.

Alana sitting next to you rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Your drink has been sitting empty for a minute, girl. We’re just surprised you haven’t gone back to the broody bartender, yet! Jenna said she dropped by and all she got was a scowl when she asked for green tea shots, but we see the way he looks at you. Think you could score us some good shots?”

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat, trying to deny what you felt, but didn’t necessarily see. “Oh please, I’m sure he doesn’t even notice me!”

The three girls across from you exchanged a glance before Jenna shook her head. “Um, wrong. One hundred percent wrong. I’m pretty sure you’re all he notices and he’s the same for you. Can’t believe you two are so blind to each other. You keep going up to him and you’re up to a total of what? Half a dozen free drinks over a few visits at this point?”

Everyone around you shared the same knowing glance and you were ready to concede. You couldn’t help the way your heart started beating faster with anticipation of going up to him again, but the alcohol flowing through your body, finally settling in, was enough to override any last ounce insecurity you had. You just wanted to be close to him that badly again, despite his apparent disdain for fancy shots. It was worth a try, though, so you sighed and nodded and stood up, saving your brain power so you could say something coherent to the beautifully beastly bartender.

As you steadied yourself in your shoes, the alcohol hit a little harder, but you weren’t going to stop now. As you began your steps across the wooden floor, your eyes locked with the man with the dark beard and buzz cut and watched as his deft hands slid another beer across the counter at a regular.

You waltzed up to the varnished bar and drummed your fingers on the edge as you looked up at the head between a towering pair of broad shoulders. If you’d have known better, you’d have said he was almost beaming at you.

“Hey sweet thing, what can I get you?”

A tingle went down your spine at that. You would’ve claimed it was the alcohol, if you hadn’t known that it usually numbed you instead of set your body alight. The bartender, who you’d come to know as Curtis, usually wasn’t that outright with the pet names. From what you had seen so far, he was pretty reserved. Something had changed tonight, though, and you couldn’t complain about that, so you threw it back.

“Well, handsome, I’m really sorry to ask this, but would you be willing to make me four green tea shots? I’m sorry if it’s a lot to ask…”

From your side, you heard a snicker, and your eyes found an older gentleman, likely one of the bar regulars. Curtis’s gaze had darted to him, too, except his eyes were stern. The gentleman knew that Curtis wasn’t usually one to make drinks with more than a couple steps, and especially not on more than one occasion in a night unless it was for someone pretty exceptional. And you seemed like both of those things. Curtis simply cleared his throat to regain your attention and pulled out the glasses before finding what he needed.

“Well lucky for you, I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.” He winked as he expertly tipped the bottles.

A blush crept up your cheeks along with the one the liquor had put there. You were gone enough on his behavior and your last few drinks that there wasn’t much to hold you back anymore before you blurted, “Does that include dinner with me next Thursday?”

Curtis stopped in his tracks, slamming the bottles down on the counter with a loud thud that startled you. His face was almost unreadable. Sure, before tonight, you felt like he may not have seemed interested, but in your small chats over drink orders throughout this evening, that changed. You didn’t read this wrong, did you?

You watched intently as his gaze which was fixed on the worn wooden table shifted upward to look at you through his eyelashes. Those gorgeous, long eyelashes. A true, genuine smile was on his lips. He had no idea you felt the same way as him. “Yeah. I think it does.”

Bonus A/N: bartender!Curtis will return in the second part of this, and we’ll see much more about his herb garden and secret treats for his girl. This is the first thing I’ve written in months, so cut me some slack, okay, but I’d love your feedback in all forms.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[hauntedestheart]

Ok so I just found and read Security Measures and I’m kinda actually in love with Dante. Do you think he might make a return? Ngl he seems like a prime opportunity for some Consensual Possession(tm) fun for the boys.

Since "Security Measures" is just a bunch of non-linear vignettes I didn't actually have any plans for Dante to return, but this was such a sweet ask that I was inspired to revisit his character!

I wanted to try and explore what "consensual possession" would be like but fair warning, it does get pretty explicit towards the end.

----

Extra Security: Dante (Male Possession)

A side story from the Security series detailing a meeting between Andy and Dante, the friendly body hopper they met in Security Measures - Bodyhoppers

Robin's Egg Brew was located right on the edge of campus so despite its eye roll inducing name (and painfully blue decor), it did good business. It was a minor miracle that Andy had managed to snag a seat at a small table because the place was packed with bodies, and while Andy wasn't the type of guy who minded waiting fifteen minutes to get his order, the crowd did present him with a problem- the person he was meeting up with a body hopper, who could be anyone in the room.

Since their first encounter and the subsequent hookup, Dante had become a friend to Andy and a sometimes fuckbuddy whenever the stars aligned for a three-way with Trevor- although his unusual lifestyle meant that they couldn't get together too often. When they did hook up, it was always with Dante's real body (because Trevor said it would be "hypocritical" of them to take advantage of one of Dante's hops), but when it was just him and Andy hanging out as buddies there was no telling who he'd turn up as.

Normally, Dante would send a quick selfie to let Andy know who to look for, but today he was being strangely evasive and had only given his friend one clue.

💪🏿Dante🐇: You'll know it's me- just look for the hottest guy there.

Andy read the text again, humming thoughtfully under his breath, and took another look around. Seated with his back to the wall he had a good vantage point of the rest of the cafe, and he casually took a sip of his coffee as a cover while he eyed the other patrons and tried to scope out which one his friend was hiding inside of.

He'd seen enough of Dante's "conquests" to have a sense for his friend's taste, so he felt pretty confident he could figure it out on his own. The first thing he did was disregard all the women- Dante had explained that while there were hoppers who enjoyed crossing gender lines, he wasn't one of them. There weren't many older people in the cafe, but Dante liked to stick to his own age demographic anyways, so the few that were present were off the list as well.

It was tougher to thin the field after that. Dante had made his preference for bigger guys clear (his jokes about how he wanted to take Andy's stacked body out for another spin always ended with a "hahaha... unless?") but that still left quite a few options. The easy choice was the burly dude who looked like a lumberjack reading by the window, but he had a waxed mustache and Dante would never. There was a guy from the university wrestling team (still in a form fitting singlet, extra points) who seemed like a promising lead, but he was disqualified after his girlfriend showed up and the two started making out.

Andy was still debating between the chubby dude with glasses waiting in line and the gym rat who had just come out of the bathroom when he felt a hand on his shoulder; he instantly lit up when he saw who it was.

"Trevor!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement at the sight of his skinny little brown skinned boyfriend. He squeezed Trevor's hand tight. "You came!"

"'Course I did," Trevor said, smiling back with all his teeth, then he ruffled his own hair with his free hand. "I wouldn't miss out on a chance to see Dante, Dante's the best."

Andy scooted over and patted the space on the bench next to him, slinging his big arm over Trevor's shoulder the second he was seated and nestling his smaller boyfriend into his side possessively. Sometimes Andy worried that he was a bit too clingy in situations like this, but Trevor pressed in closer, so he figured he was in the clear. He held in his sigh of contentment though- he had to maintain some dignity.

"So, have you found Dante yet?" Trevor asked, leaning his head on Andy's strong chest and letting one of his hands idly rest on Andy's abdomen. Andy shook his head.

"Nah, he's being weird about it this time," he replied, taking another glance around the crowd- the chubby guy he'd had his eye on was walking out with a cup of coffee and the gym rat was racing back into the bathroom with a queasy look on his face, so it was back to the drawing board. "No photo or nothing, just said he was gonna be 'the hottest guy here.'"

"Oh really?" Trevor sounded amused. His hand was drifting up and down lazily like he was petting his Andy's abs through his shirt, which was making it a bit hard for the big guy to keep his head on straight, and Trevor peered up at his boyfriend with one raised eyebrow. "Hottest guy here, huh? Tell me, which one of these guys is the hottest to you?"

"Trev," Andy teased, nuzzling the top of his boyfriend's head "No one here is hotter than you."

And Andy knew Trevor had a thing about PDA, but the little guy looked so cute and the moment was so perfect that he couldn't resist leaning down and stealing a quick little peck on the lips. A brief kiss- but it gave Andy pause.

He pulled back and Trevor smiled at him, but Andy's eyes were searching the familiar features of his boyfriend's face for something. His brow furrowed, then he surged forwards and went back in again for another kiss. The one was deeper and more aggressive, with the big guy practically pinning his twinkish companion into the wall as his tongue quested inside of his mouth, but the lightning round make out session ended abruptly with Andy bolting to his feet in shock and his partner falling flat on the bench.

"Dante?" Andy asked, staring down at the form of his boyfriend with shock, and the 'Trevor' in front of him lifted his head up and gave a snort of amusement.

"Damn, that's it?" Dante said, using two fingers to throw Andy a cheeky little salute. "I thought I'd have you going for a few minutes at least. Being friends with normies is making me lose my touch."

Still sprawled out on the bench, the body hopper took a moment to stretch out his borrowed form (making sure to arch Trevor's back and show off his tight little booty in a way that the real Trevor never would) and Andy awkwardly averted his eyes. Then Dante pushed himself to his feet and slipped around the table to claim the empty chair Andy had been saving for him.

"I wish you could have seen what you looked like when you thought I was actually him," Dante gave a good natured roll of his eyes and gestured for his friend to sit down; speechless, Andy complied. "You practically melted into a puddle of butter. I hate how disgustingly cute you two are, it's indecent."

"You hopped Trevor? My Trevor?" Andy shook his head with disbelief, then leaned forwards on his elbows (flexing his biceps to make sure he looked as big as possible) and lowered his voice a bit. "Look man, you're my friend so I don't wanna accuse you of anything, but I... I thought it was clear that Trevor was off-limits."

Dante just smiled and leaned back in his chair, running his hands down the length of Trevor's slender body like he was smoothing out some clothes- but Andy practically growled at him, so he lifted his hands and held them up in a we cool gesture.

"You can settle down loverboy, Trevor was the one who suggested this. Said it would be fun for you to see him being the one to get snatched for once," the body hopper folded his arms behind his head and glanced sideways at them, frowning at how skinny they looked. "And I agreed even though it meant hopping into a twink, so you're welcome for that."

The two young men held eye contact for a moment, Andy looking like he was debating whether or not to explode as he scrutinized the hopper who had stolen his boyfriend's body, but then he let out a sigh and retreated. His fists unclenched and he relaxed back against the booth, body practically deflating as the bluster abandoned him and the tension bled from his big muscles.

"Okay," Andy said, voice still a bit pinched, and he winced at Dante apologetically. "I mean, I trust you man, it's just... you know..."

"Nah man, it's all cool. I get it!" the body hopper shrugged his ethically borrowed shoulders and gave Andy his most charming smile, batting Trevor's pretty eyelashes sweetly up at the boy's boyfriend. "You don't like people fucking with the love of your life, I respect that."

Dante took great pleasure in watching the way that Andy grew all flustered when he said that (it never stopped being funny that such a big guy turned into a blushing schoolgirl whenever it came to Trevor, homeboy was whipped) and he took advantage of the distraction to snatch his friend's coffee cup off the table and steal a sip of it. Considering the fact that they'd been swapping spit a minute ago, he didn't think Andy would mind.

Andy cleared his throat and gestured to the cup. "I would have gotten you your usual but I didn't know if whatever body you were in would like the taste of black coffee with a bunch of caramel in it," then he paused and wrinkled his nose. "Kinda don't know how you like the taste of that either."

Dante snorted and slid the cup back across the table. "Now I know the man who guzzles lemon ginger ale rum isn't coming for my taste..."

"Oh yeah?" Andy crossed his arms and grinned. "Don't lie, I'll bet you wish you were guzzling shit with my tongue right now. Thirsty motherfucker."

Dante rolled his eyes and flipped Andy off, and then the two men burst out laughing. The shared moment gave Andy permission to relax and clear the doubts from his head- they were just two buddies hanging out as usual, nothing weird about it at all.

"I fucking missed you dude, how've you been?" Dante asked, giving Andy a quick once over. The guy was still as ridiculously hot as ever, and Dante wasn't afraid to comment on it. "You're looking good- maybe too good actually, I bet those muscles are like catnip for hoppers. You been snatched lately?"

Andy grinned- he and Trevor liked to keep his "condition" on the down-low (for obvious reasons) so one of the best parts about having a hopper for a friend was having someone to talk to about this kind of stuff. Though Dante could be pretty cagey about certain aspects of being a hopper, it was clear he was in a similar boat, so whenever the two met up they always had wild stories to share.

"No hoppers actually, but I did get caught out by a ghost the other day, and body swapped with a high schooler," Andy reported, shuddering at the memory of being stuck back in puberty for a few days while the kid was out there guzzling beers. "Also a guy from my chemistry class started messing around with astral projection and was taking me out to clubs so Trevor glued his third eye shut."

Dante sucked in a sympathetic breath and winced. "That sounds exactly like something Trevor would do."

"Yeah..." Andy said softly, and there was a moment where he looked at Dante with this fond look in his eyes before he remembered that he wasn't it real Trevor. Dante pretended not to notice and let Andy recover with a sip of coffee. "How about you, man? Haven't heard from you in a minute, you kinda dropped off the map for a bit."

"I was on tv, if you can believe it," Dante said, nodding cockily as Andy flung his hands up shouted "DUDE!" at the top of his lungs. He inspected the back of Trevor's hand nonchalantly as he spun his yarn. "Managed to hop a guy who was on a reality dating show but didn't realize it meant I'd get sequestered for like a month- coulda hopped out but, well, I wanted to win. I'll show you later, it's on Netflix." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I was totally the fan favorite, made sure they got lots of shots of his big old ass."

"Ah yes, Dante, the biggest ass man I know," Andy teased, and Dante didn't even bother trying to deny it- especially when sitting in front of one of his favorite asses he'd ever hopped. "That's insane dude. And a month- that's a long time for you stay in one guy, right?"

"Yup, set a new record for myself actually," Dante said proudly, grateful for the chance to flex his hopping prowess a bit, and the two fist bumped.

Andy leaned forwards, excited. "Did you win the show?"

"Buddy," Dante raised an eyebrow. "That's a spoiler."

The two chatted for a while, trading a few more stories, complaining about the latest updates to some of their multiplayer games, making plans to watch an upcoming movie- to any onlooker who knew Andy & Trevor, it might have even looked like a normal date between the two boyfriends. It wasn't until later, after the barista called out Dante's name (well, Trevor's name) and he got up to go collect his drink, that Dante caught Andy staring at him with a strange look on his face.

The body hopper stood still for a moment, staring blankly back at his friend from behind the face of his boyfriend, then he sighed and plunked himself down on the bench next to Andy.

"This is weird for you, huh?" he asked, setting his coffee down on the table then leaning back against the booth and looking sideways at Andy. Andy looked like he might try to protest, but Dante decided to be nice and let him off the hook. "I'm not offended, Trevor said it was gonna be a little awkward."

"It's just weird," Andy admitted with a shrug, suddenly struggling to look over at his friend Dante. "Don't get me wrong, I'm cool with you being a hopper, but usually you show up as some random guy I've never met. Seeing it happen to someone I'm so close to, it's..."

His voice trailed off and Andy studied Trevor's face, his favorite face in the whole world, but it wasn't really his boyfriend's face. Trevor didn't squeeze his cheeks like that. Trevor didn't flare his nostrils like that. The look in his eyes was completely different. This wasn't him.

It was especially strange because he'd gotten used to picking out Dante's different little quirks no matter what body he was in, so seeing them plastered onto Trevor of all people just felt... wrong.

And Trevor has to deal with seeing me like this all the time, Andy thought to himself, feeling guilty as he threw another entry onto the giant list of things he felt he owed his boyfriend for.

Emotions played out very visibly on Andy's face and as Dante watched his turmoil, for a second, he felt a twinge of guilt. But he shook it off pretty quickly- a hopper never felt bad about taking someone's body, least of all one they were invited into.

Still, Andy was his friend, so he rubbed his friend on his hulking shoulder and smiled sympathetically. "You know I wouldn't hurt him."

"I know that, you're a cool guy and I didn't mean to-" Andy gestured vaguely at the air with his hands, hoping that his gesture articulated what he felt without words, and Dante nodded his acceptance. Then, curiously, Andy glanced around to see if anyone was listening before leaning in close and nudging Dante on the side. "Look, Dante, I gotta ask... man to man... what's it like in there? How do you feel?"

Dante furrowed his brow- Andy usually held back questions about Dante's lifestyle, so the question came a bit out of the blue. "How do I feel?"

"Sorry, is that like, a racist question to ask a hopper?" Andy winced and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just know you've been in a lot of guys before and since it's Trevor I'm... curious."

"Nah, you're fine, it's just not usually something hoppers talk about much," Dante paused for a moment, weighing his options, and then he shrugged. "But I guess since it's your boyfriend's body, it's only fair."

Andy leaned forwards, not even bothering to hide the way curiosity radiated off of him. Hoppers valued secrecy above all else, so Andy always tried to listen whenever Dante was willing to drop some nuggets of wisdom- and besides, Trevor would definitely want to hear about it later.

Dante rubbed at his chest (Trevor has NO pecs, he thought glumly) and stared into the distance, pondering how to best explain it to a non-hopper. It wasn't something he thought hard about often, and he talked about it still less.

"Did you know that babies are born knowing how to swim?" he began, and Andy looked a bit confused, but this was as simple as Dante was going to be able to make it so he just kept going. "Babies can actually swim really well, but their brains don't hold on to the information so they lose it as they grow up. Hoppers don't forget."

"And humans are like... pools. Anyone can jump into a pool if they know how to swim, but some are gonna be easier to swim in than others," the hopper paused and licked his lips, staring dreamily at Andy's hunky body. "Slipping into you, my friend, is like slipping into a hot tub. You're a spa day. A four star luxury vacation."

Andy crossed his arms and frowned. "Seriously?"

"What? It's a compliment!" Dante gave his friend a shit eating grin, which faded to something a bit more serious a moment later as he looked down at the hands he was currently using. "Slipping into Trevor is like diving headfirst into the Pacific Ocean. I don't know if I'd still be in him right now if he didn't want me here- I gotta give it to him, he's a tough little dude."

"He sure is..." Andy mumbled wistfully, staring at Trevor's body with that puppy dog look in his eyes again, and the moment was getting a bit too sentimental so Dante had to course correct.

"And he's got tight little body too," he said, leaning back and pulling Trevor's shirt up so he could look down at his stomach- while he didn't have crazy abs like his boyfriend, he was flat and had some decent tone to him. "You know that I'm usually all about the big guys but I'm kinda digging how compact everything in here is. I was worried I was gonna feel like a scarecrow but he's not that bad- his butt is a lot bigger than you'd expect too, especially for his frame."

"Trust me, I'm very familiar with Trevor's butt," Andy commented, then he reached over and tugged Trevor's shirt back down protectively. Dante pouted. "And I should have known you were gonna comment on it- if there's one thing Dante's gonna do, it's focus on a guy's butt."

"I can talk about his dick too if it makes you feel better," Dante taunted, then he spread his legs and palmed at the bulge in the front of his pants- Andy looked scandalized, but there was nothing he could do to stop it without risking drawing attention, and the hopper made sure to stare right into his eyes as he toyed with his boyfriend's dick. "It's cute! Not the biggest, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in tenacity. Trevor is horny- I don't know how he keeps the whole 'shy' act up when this thing is practically spring loaded and his balls seem to have some kind of infinite cum hammer space inside of them."

"I know what you mean..." The thought of Trevor's penis stirred up happy memories for Andy, and he smiled fondly. "You know how Trevor and I swapped before we got together? That was the first time I saw his dick and it had me losing my mind- I jacked off three times before I went to go find him."

"See?" Dante squeezed Trevor's privates one more time before releasing them with a grin. "People give hoppers so much shit for messing around with guys, but put one of you inside of a hottie's body and you're exactly the same as us. We're all just after the same things in life."

"Speaking of which..." he said ominously.

Without warning, Dante hoisted himself up and flipped around so he was sitting on top of Andy, straddling his lap and pressing their bodies close together in a completely shameless display of public affection. The real Trevor would never dare to be caught in such a position, which is what made it so fun for Dante- and the look of complete shock on Andy's face was priceless.

"What the fuck Dante?" Andy exclaimed, glancing around wildly to make sure no one was looking. His hands shot out on instinct and curled around Trevor's skinny waist as he tried to stabilize his body so he wouldn't fall, and it only made the scene appear more lascivious, and Dante was living his best life.

"What? Did you think that Trevor let me hop him so the two of us could sit here and complain about patch notes?" The body hopper tilted his head back dramatically and shook out Trevor's hair like a porn star peacocking for the camera, checking to see if anyone in the crowded cafe had noticed them (many of them had and were staring with mixed shock and amusement) then he snapped back up with a wicked glint in his eye. "Nah man, this is business. We're here to bang."

He hammered his point in with his butt, flexing it so the round cheeks would caress the fat bulge they were resting on top of, and Andy's dick (in a Pavlovian response to the feeling of Trevor's body) instantly sprang to attention and tried to fight its way through their pants to get to Trevor's hole.

"Shit man, I didn't think it was possible, but you feel even bigger right now," Dante ground down on the bulge and groaned with delight, drawing even more eyes to them. "Maybe that's one nice thing about being smaller."

"Dante, people are gonna see us," Andy squeaked- he meant to growl, but because of the way his belly was flipping he was lucky he was able to get any words out at all.

"Oh no!" Dante gasped, glancing around with mock surprise, then he turned back to Andy and curled Trevor's face into a smile so lecherous that would never belong to the real boy.

He pressed his hands onto Andy's pecs, savoring the feeling of those huge muscle tits of his through his shirt, and gave them a rough squeeze. Andy groaned, eyes almost rolling back up into his head as he fought to keep himself under control. "

We wouldn't want them to think you're cheating on your boyfriend. Wait-" Dante laughed. "I guess that's not really a problem right now! I guess the bigger problem is they might start to think that your sweet little boyfriend is a shameless whore."

"Actually, do you wanna know a secret?" Dante asked, and he leaned in close to Andy's ear so no one else would hear him. Trevor's dick was fully at attention now and he rutted it lazily into Andy's belly, feeling the ridges of his abs even through multiple layers of clothes, and he let the lust he was experiencing leach into his voice. "I wasn't wearing anything when I hopped him. I'm completely exposed inside of him right now and I've been sitting here this whole time, butt naked behind your boyfriend's face, and no one had a clue. Not even you," he teased, nipping at Andy's ear, and felt the man's massive body shiver. "Kinda feels naughty, huh?"

"Dante-" Andy began, chest heaving with heavy breaths, but Dante placed one Trevor's fingers on his lips and silenced him.

"Shhh," he whispered, unable to resist the urge to milk the moment. "Trevor's gonna kill me when he gets his body back and found out I made him act like this in public but come on, he can't blame me! Doesn't he look so hot like this? Doesn't it make you wanna just rip his pants off and bend him over this table and-"

"Sorry guys," said the mildly irritated looking barista who'd been tasked with interrupting their inappropriate display. "You can't be doing that in here."

Dante schooled his expression and turned over his shoulder to apologize (Trevor would never forgive him if he got them banned from this cafe, and for his own safety Dante liked to stay on Trevor's good side) but Andy beat him to the punch.

"We were just leaving anyways," Andy said, practically throwing Dante to his feet and dragging him out the door in record time. They left their coffees on the table.

---

Like most hoppers, Dante had a somewhat complicated relationship with his own body, especially when it came to sex. He was so painfully average in terms of height, build, and appearance, why bother using his boring old form when he could just go out and find a better one? That was one of the charming things about Andy & Trevor- they wanted to fuck around with him, not just whoever he could be for the night.

(And it didn't hurt that the couple were both hot as fuck.)

But at his core, Dante was still a hopper, and every now and then he managed to talk his fuckbuddies into some well-deserved possession play. Andy was okay with being used as long as he knew what was coming, so Dante would slide inside of him and worship that incredible body of his while Trevor watched.

He and Andy would take turns fucking Trevor, using the big guy's heaven sent dick to plow away at the twink's hole while Dante slipped in and out of the hunk's back, trading off control so Trevor never knew who was the one screwing him. Sometimes he'd even switch positions mid-fuck, pulling out of Trevor and letting the smaller guy take a crack at Andy's juicy ass so when Dante gave Andy control again it felt like he went from the top to the bottom in the blink of an eye. Andy's body really was the ultimate sex toy!

But this was his first time using Trevor, and it was a completely different world. When he slipped into Andy he felt powerful and in charge, a Hercules with a dick to match, but slipping into Trevor was the opposite. Slipping into Trevor made him feel... vulnerable, especially once he was on all fours and there was a giant man rocking up behind him to make him his bitch.

Dante had bottomed for Andy in his real body so he had firsthand experience of what it was like to have all that muscle bearing down on him (not to mention practice taking that giant dick of his), but his body had some healthy inches and pounds on Trevor's body that apparently made a lot of difference because he felt like he might snap in half at any second as Andy bottomed out inside of his borrowed hole.

"You make his ass feel different," Andy grunted, clinging tightly to Trevor's hips and holding still for a moment to give his partner time to adjust before he began rocking back and forth slowly. "Is that crazy to say?"

"Not at all," Dante reassured him, his voice a bit strained as he himself being filled up with inch after glorious inch of Andy. The sensation of that massive tool pressing against his walls was... incredible, and seemed heightened with his new nerve endings. "Your dick- fuck -feels different in his ass than mine."

Andy froze mid-thrust and grabbed at his partner's shoulder, touching concern radiating from his eyes. "Am I hurting you?"

"Actually, I think it's easier as him than as me," Dante admitted- part of why he avoided bottoming in other bodies was that he never knew what the person's limits would be, but he'd been surprised by how eagerly Trevor's hole stretched for Andy (especially considering the size of the battering ram being shoved into him) and how quickly his slender body was relaxing into it. "Your boyfriend is tougher than he looks."

"Oh, good," Andy looked relieved and resumed the motion of his thrusts, but the movements were still slow and a bit tentative. Dante could tell from experience (internal and external) that he was holding back.

The hopper huffed out in frustration- what was the point of Trevor letting Andy fuck him like he fucked his boyfriend if the stud was gonna screw him like a stranger? Seemed like a waste of two hot bodies.

"That all you got?" Dante taunted, glancing back over his shoulder and rolling his eyes at Andy. "I've been inside of that body, I know what it can do. You need me to take over? Because I know I'd do twice as good a job using all that meat of yours to destroy your boyfriend's sweet little ass. I'll do it myself if you aren't feeling man enough."

And there was something very Trevor-like about the way Dante looked while he said that that made Andy grin... because if Dante wanted to get fucked like he was Trevor, Andy could fuck him like he was Trevor. He just didn't know if the hopper was prepared for it.

"Challenge accepted," Andy growled, and he started going at it in earnest, and Dante shut the hell up.

The two fucked hot and heavy for a while, and after a few minutes with Andy going at full force, Dante had to admit that the guy definitely knew what he was doing when it came to Trevor's body. He was hitting all of the right spots (some of which were deep inside him) and he was kind of jealous that Andy never pulled these moves on him when he was in his own body, but he also had his doubts about whether his own body could stand up to him like Trevor's could. He had severely underestimated the durability of this skinny little body- maybe twinks aren't so bad after all.

Trevor's dick was swinging back and forth between his legs as his body shook and Andy reached down and seized it, one of his huge hands teasing up and down its length and squeezing it with just the right amount of pressure, and Dante knew he was a goner. But he wasn't quite done with his fun yet, so the body hopper grunted out a warning to Andy, and then made his move.

Trevor rocketed back into control of his body and barely had a second to process where he was (his bedroom) and what was going on (Andy's dick was in his ass) before the orgasm hit him. There was no time to muffle himself like he usually did so he wound up shrieking wild expletives in Spanish as his cock erupted all over the bed, and he barely had the strength to keep himself propped up on his elbows as his partner continued to plow him all through his climax and kept the pace up even after he'd spilled out every drop of cum in his balls.

"Surprise," Andy's voice rumbled behind him, but Trevor wasn't fooled for a second. The angle of the thrust was all wrong.

"That wasn't fair Dante," Trevor panted- though he was still riding the high of endorphins and it was taking most of his energy just to cope with the feeling of his insides being stretched out, he mustered up the attitude necessary to turn his head and glower at the man topping him. The body hopper gave him a cheeky wink and a slap on the ass before his eyes flicked lower and he got distracted watching the way Andy's giant pecs bounced every time he thrusted.

While Trevor couldn't blame the hopper for looking (it was an impressive sight), he did think it was a bit rude to ogle his boyfriend while actively fucking him, so out of a twisted sense of revenge, Trevor flexed something deep inside himself and made his hole tighten in that way he knew drove Andy wild.

Dante didn't stand a chance. "Holy shit, what the fuck did you-"

Trevor watched over his shoulder as Andy's whole body tensed and the real Dante slipped out of his back, and barely a split second later the climax came. Andy gave a series of deep, guttural groans, his body wracked with pleasure, and Trevor felt heavy pulsing in his ass as Andy's balls emptied into the condom.

Both of them collapsed onto the bed, Andy's softening cock still buried deep inside Trevor as his hulking body smothered his smaller partner, and but he was feeling too boneless to move so he just mumbled out an apology and laid there and let the twink luxuriate in the feeling of being buried beneath a mountain of hot, sweaty muscle.

Dante stood above them, harder than he'd ever been in his life as he stared down at the tangle of debauched men before him, and he only had to jerk his own cock a few times before he was adding his own load to the mess already splattered across the pair. He collapsed on the bed next to them, spent and raw after what was basically the longest orgasm of his life, and watched out of the side of his eye as Andy and Trevor adjusted their positions so they could lie face to face with each other. Andy reached down and brushed Trevor's bangs away from his eyes, and Trevor gently took his hand, and it was all so Disney that Dante could barely watch.

"Fuck!" Dante grunted out, flopping onto his back and talking to the ceiling rather than the sickeningly in love couple next to him, and he grinned with all his teeth. "I've always wanted to try my double orgasm trick with three people, that was insane!"

As soon as he felt like he could move again (look at that, he thought, the body hopper not being in control of his body) he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, looking away so Andy and Trevor could have a private moment together. Instead, he wobbled his way over to their television and pulled out the remote, flipping the screen on and navigating to Netflix.

Trevor caught what he was doing and pushed himself up, away from Andy's embrace, though he kept one hand on his boyfriend's chest as he called across the room towards their hookup with an exasperated look on his face.

"Dante, you're our friend, but no matter how good the sex was I am not watching that shitty reality show you were on," he said flatly, but then Andy nestled his head onto Trevor's shoulder, murmured something into his ear, and the twink relented with a sigh. "Okay, a few episodes, and no one can get mad at me for rolling my eyes."

Dante smiled. It was always fun when the three of them could get together.