#had this idea circling about in my head forever so here it is

[liahaslosthermind]

~𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭~ Part 3

Part 3 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The Inner Circle meets the most important person in Azriel's life. Warnings: Lia rewrites what the Carranam bond is to fit her own fantasy, (Mention of) Bad injuries and domestic abuse, (Mention of) Azriel's dad 🤢, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one

“My Carranam.” The Spy Master replied.

No one was given time to think, much less respond, before Azriel had commanded everyone to leave the room. They would have been more reluctant to do so, the desire to know what the hell he meant was painful, had the serious look on the strange female’s face, and the look of despair on Azriel’s, had given them the impression this conversation was better left between the two. 

Out in the hallway, Cassian finally voiced his concern, 

“Should we have left him alone with whoever that was? He isn’t in any state to be fighting back should he ne-”

Amren scoffed at the question. “I’d trust her with him far more than you all.”

 “What do you mean? Do you know her?” Elain asked.

“No, but he is her Carranam. You all might not know the significance of such a bond- I don’t even know much about it myself, but I know enough to believe there is no one who would protect and cherish him more.” There was a sort of amazement and respect in Amren’s eyes that told the rest of them that she was right. Gave them enough information to walk away from the bedroom, content on letting Azriel come to them when he was ready.

—

The Inner Circle was no longer content waiting for their Spy Master to make an appearance. All had been sitting at the dining table for what must have been millenia, plates full with no appetite as millions of questions swarmed their heads. Amren had seemingly been the only one to have any idea what any of this could have meant, but the second she got the chance, she disappeared so she wouldn’t be bothered with questions about something that had nothing to do with her. 

Finally, Nesta broke the silence.

“Do you think he is purposefully trying to torture us by taking forever?” She asked, eyeing the very apparent shadows in the corner that had been slithering to and from the room since they had all sat down. “Or do you think she is-”

“It would be my fault Azriel was occupied for a bit.” The strange fae announced as she entered the room, Azriel by her side with a slight limp. The two looked… strange together, but also so right. White feathered wings stood tall behind the female, nicely contrasting Azriel’s leathery Illyrian ones. Where he was crowned in darkness and shadows, she seemed to have bathed in light. It should have contrasted each other terribly, but their stark differences only seemed to compliment the other.

It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how their friend looked thousands of times better than he did just hours earlier.

He was still clearly injured, but far from the edge of death he teetered on these past few days.

“How? Madja could only do so much for him.” Rhysand asked, astonished at how well his brother looked.

She helped him into his seat before taking the empty one next to him. Even as they got comfortable, her hand never left his arm, finding comfort in his touch after days of agony and helplessness.

“Junia is a healer. The best Dawn has to offer.” Azriel said, the pride clear in his voice. It made sense that she- Junia had been from Dawn. A Peregryn and an Illyrian, two lesser fae known for their warrior skills and inherent desire for the skies. 

“I am not as skilled as Madja, but it's easier to heal when you know exactly what is wrong, exactly what hurts.” Junia said, rolling her eyes at Azriel’s shameless bragging. 

She let out a deep and rich laugh as she looked at everyone’s faces, all pained by the many questions swirling around in there. Feyre noted that she hadn’t heard such a joyous laugh since Azriel had done the same when Elain had gifted him medicine for all the headaches the Inner Circle gave him. 

Clearly, whatever bond they had between them was deep.

“You better introduce me, put them out of their misery.” She teased Az, who had been too caught up relishing her laugh, after a very long and rough berating it was nice to see her not seconds away from tearing out his wings. 

“R-right. Uh- this is my- well this is-” Azriel stammered.

“Mother above Az, don’t hurt yourself," Cassian amused.

Azriel closed his mouth as he blushed, unsure of how to go about this. 

“My name is Junia. As the brooding bat said, I am his Carranam.” Junia answered, side eyeing Azriel.

Keep it together, Az. It's a little pathetic. 

Azriel responded to her teasing look with a glare. We haven’t had to tell anyone about this in a while. Why don’t you try to explain it to these idiots if you are so clever.

Rhysand noticed the silent conversation going on between them.

“You can converse like Daemati? Is that your ability?” The High Lord asked her.

They both hesitated, realizing they didn’t really know how their so-called “telepathy” worked.

“No- or I don’t believe so at least. When you communicate with someone, you are doing so verbally, even if not aloud, correct? I don’t hear Azriel’s voice in my head, I just feel what he is trying to tell me, if that makes sense.”

“Like a mating bond?” Feyre questioned.

“Also no. It's not our feelings that are conveyed solely, we can gather more specific meaning from it. Yes, Junia would feel I was not excited for this conversation, but she would also know I was offering her one last chance to leave, should she also not want to deal with all of your… strong personalities.” Azriel responded, looking at Junia. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his family.

She laughed at his desperation which, while very clear to her, she knew the Inner Circle was none the wiser to the just how far Azriel was willing to go to leave this table. She could see him coming up with escape routes in his head as he picked up his wine glass. 

“Oh you poor delicate flower,” She teased. 

Unfortunately, they all still noticed the blush that once again appeared on Az’s face, laughing at their scary brother, head tortured of the Night Court, being compared to a ‘delicate flower’. 

Downing the rest of his glass, Azriel finally explained.

“A carranam bond isn’t like a mating bond. It comes from an old phrase, A Soul Friend. It gives Junia and I the ability to channel each other's powers, even make them stronger when we are together. Like you noticed, we have a different, more intimate way of communicating, far stronger than Daemati and mates can.”

“How the hell has no one else here heard of this bond?” Nesta asked, skeptical. Seems like something a group of people as obsessed with the mating bond would know about.

“It is rare, extremely so. There are also many… vulnerabilities that come with a bond such as this. To find your carranam is hard enough, most will never be born with one. But to accept such a bond is dangerous. And unfortunately there have been instances of others abusing such a gift. Tying their carranam up to reap their abilities, taking so much from them that both end up going insane. It became illegal in many places and eventually was forgotten by our world.” Junia answered.

“How did you find out what you guys had?” Feyre jumped in.

While this was Junia’s story as much as Azriel’s, she hesitated. Because there was another factor to that story, and she didn’t believe she was the one who should talk about it first.

Another glance between the two, a question asked. Azriel answered it by speaking up, “Junia is from Dawn. After my… mother was released- rescued from my father’s abuse, she wasn’t in wonderful shape. Fortunately, Rhys, Cassian, and myself found a place created by High Lord Thesan’s mother that offered aid to those escaping similar situations, Rosehall. That is where Junia worked as head healer. She helped my mother a lot throughout the years.” Such admiration and gratitude in his voice made several people at the table start to tear up.

Everyone was quiet. While Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor knew the story of Azriel’s mother being sent to Rosehall, they hadn’t known about Junia, just about the healer Az’s mother had gotten along with-

“You are the friend of his mother’s he sends gifts to every Solstice?” Mor asked, having been approached by Azriel for help with buying said gifts many times in the past.

“I thought you picked those gifts out yourself? You didn’t tell me Mor did all the work.” Junia turned to Az.

“I do pick them out, you just have peculiar taste. I have needed her help locating shops to buy such things before. That's it.” Az defended.

I certainly do have peculiar taste she silently said to Az who, again, blushed at the double entendre.

He quickly cleared his throat, “A few years after my mother had entered her care, while I was visiting, there was an attack on Rosehall. It was one of the families of a newer resident enacting revenge for escaping abuse. When many were hurt or dying… or dead, the two of us the only ones available to help, this bond had snapped out because of that desperation. It was new but it felt like it had always been there. We both leaned into the feeling and fortunately it didn’t end terribly. Suddenly, my shadows were able to start healing, and were able to talk to Junia, giving her any info on people who needed her help that she couldn’t see.”

Everyone was astonished at such a story. So different but also so similar to the mating bond. 

“Since then we have been each others’ confidants. While we don’t live particularly close, shadow walking gives me the ability to come to him whenever, and vice versa. Plus the connection is always there, even miles upon miles apart.” Junia answered. 

“Why keep it a secret?” Cassian questioned, knowing how much a connection like this would matter to Az, but confused because wouldn’t he want his family to know about him having such a bond?

“I am not exactly without enemies, Cas. I couldn’t have a possibility of someone coming after her because of me.” The sound of raw pain in his voice let his family know that this wasn’t something that was simply a fear. 

Someone had gone after her in revenge.

“Your secret is safe with us. You are safe with us. Should you need anything, just say the word.” Rhysand offered. 

The two carranam looked at each other. “After I spent a while yelling at Azriel for scaring me half to death multiple times in the past few days. We decided that maybe it was best I… step back from Rosehall.” Junia explained, sadness present in her tone as she talked about leaving the place that had been her sole purpose for her entire life. “I have healers on my staff that deserve the promotion, including Azriel’s mother, who has used her experiences to really become a confidant and friend to so many of our residents.” 

Azriel’s throat bobbed at the mention of just how much his mom had healed and helped since she escaped his father. 

Excitement filled the room at the possibility of adding another to their family. But Junia was still painfully aware of just how many questions everyone had.

“Alright, now that all the nitty gritty is out of the way, you can all begin your interrogation,” she teased.

All at once, tens of questions left everyone’s mouth. Not a single one able to be distinguished over the rest.

Azriel’s hand reached down to hold Junia’s, squeezing her while seeming to say I told you we should have escaped while we could.

They both downed their wine glasses while they waited for the Inner Circle to tire themselves out. 

A/N: Originally, this was the end. But I think I created so much backstory and also fell too much in love with Junia not to add more. So please let me know if you'd like more to this series! (And what you’d like to see)

Taglist: @bunnyred-blog1 @that-one-bibliophole @fuckingsimp4azriel @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minaaminaa8 @lilah-asteria @azrielswhore @maksamillion

(If you are featured here but you didn't get tagged, check your privacy settings to make sure you allow for tags!)

[peapod20001]

Did sleeping help

No </3

[itgetzweird08]

Part one

“..go out with me”

Your breathing hitched, indicating that you hadn’t been asleep all this time. You turned to face him then, flipping on your side in his bed to get a better look at his face. Even in the dark you could see the strong outline of his jaw and his messy blonde hair. He stared up at the ceiling, his hands behind his head, and shrugged. “I mean, why not? We’re practically dating anyways” he followed up, vermillion eyes glancing down at you. “Any reason you’re asking me this now?” You whispered, moving slowly as you shifted closer to place your head on his chest.

This time, his breath stuttered.

Moving slowly, as if you were a flighty deer ready to run at any moment, he moved his hand from behind his head to on top of yours. His fingers gently played in your hair. He breathed a shaky breath, completely stripped of his usual hard shell. He was completely vulnerable to you in this moment. “When I was lying there on the battlefield..all I could think about was your stupid face.” He grimaced, stiffening a bit at the memory. You placed a hand on his chest, tracing circles with your thumb. He exhaled with a shaky breath. “I was bleeding out, all these fucking holes in me, and one of the only things I could think of was how angry I was at myself for not being able to man up and ask you out properly. I waited too long and everything’s a mess now. The city is a fucking wreck, we’re on lockdown..and I had a whole plan too. I was gonna take you to that noodle shop you like with the stupid name. And now I can’t, because it’s too late and now I might fucking die before I ever got the chance-“

You pressed a soft kiss to the new scar that peaked out from his black tank top, causing his words to get stuck in his throat.

“Take a breath..” you told him softly. He obeyed, breathing in air and blowing out his tension.

“It’s okay, B. You’re okay. I was mad too. I was so mad at myself for not being able to protect you when you got hurt, not being able to move a little bit faster and push you out of the way. I was mad that you might die before I got the chance to tell you how much I like you..” he smirked at your words, smug covering up his giddiness. “You like me?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and moving to shift away from him out of feigned annoyance. But he wrapped an arm around you waist and pulled you closer.

“I like you too nerd…a fuckton”

You couldn’t help but smile, sinking deeper into his hold as you breathed him in. And for a moment, you felt untouchable in here. Despite the looming threat of war, the scorching flames of the world outside, you were safe in his arms. You wished you could stay like this forever. A yawn left you as your eyes began to droop, and time seemed to come to a slow stop.

It was silent for a moment, as you both began to drift off before a question came into your mind. Despite your drowsy state, you couldn’t help but smile as you asked

“…so if you like me, does that mean you’ll admit that Oodles of Noodles is a fantastic name for a noodle shop-“

“Go to sleep, shithead.”

——————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3

[cherryredcheol]

"baby"

tldr: all the way seungcheol uses your nickname a/n: this has been written and waiting to be posted forEVER but i'm finally ready (i am down horrific for this man)

seungcheol x reader fluff wc: 1k

reprimands: to make sure you know he's yours

“baby.” his tone is firm, controlling. he thought it would be a good idea to invite you to his shoot today, thinking you'd like to see him in the expensive clothes he was always put in for cover shoots. what he didn’t account for was you pouting over the friendly makeup artist assigned to him for the day. 

“don’t pout. you know i only have eyes for you.” he was trying to reason with you but his patience was wearing thin. you were being difficult on purpose and he couldn’t really do anything about it given the need to protect his image and act as professional as possible. you just huffed, frown settling deeper on your face. 

“you’re being a little unreasonable,” based on the look you gave him that was the completely wrong thing to say to you. he turned when he heard them call for him from set. it was time to shine. he walked over to where you sat, bending down to meet your eyes, “if you’re good for the rest of the day i’ll reward you when we get home, baby.” 

whines: when he doesn’t have your attention

“baby,” he could hear the pathetic tone in his voice but he just couldn’t help it. he’d had a long day of meetings and listening to presentations, the only thing keeping him going was knowing that you would be waiting at home for him when it was all over. you’d look at him with your soft eyes and dote on him all weekend, just how he liked. now here he was, waiting to be coddled and you were too busy giggling at your phone to spare him a glance. 

“what could be so entertaining on the phone that you can’t spend time with me?” he was laying it on thick but he was desperate at this point, especially when his question was only answered by another tittering laugh that was still not directed at him. at this point, he was fed up. he craned his neck to see what had you all giggly. 

“oh my god. you’re kidding me!” he couldn’t believe his eyes. playing on your phone was an edit of him from the most recent gose episode. the clip wasn’t even his best moment in the episode, but he did look quite handsome that day so he can’t blame you for watching. he still really wanted to be fussed over, “seriously, put your phone down. i’m much cuter in person, baby.” 

cat-calls: as you walk by in his favorite dress

“baby!” he called out to you, dragging out the ‘y’ sound. you paused, stopping in the middle of the bedroom as you crossed from the closet to the ensuite bathroom. he was seated on the bed, tying his shoelaces when he caught sight of you in the soft pink sundress he loved so much. you looked at him with big, curious eyes, wondering why he had stopped you in the middle of getting ready for your date in the park. 

“spin for me.” he got up from the bed and reached for your hand. he held it up, above your head and twirled you in a circle, eyes taking in every inch of you. he was excited to have a picnic with you but now he was considering scrapping the whole thing to stay behind. seeing you in a sundress always did something to him. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he was full of compliments, making sure you knew exactly how beautiful he thought you were. he considered himself a lucky man every day he got to spend with you. he supposed his desire for you could wait a few hours. he should spoil you rotten with a date in the park, before spoiling you in bed. “sure you really want to go out, baby?”

admires: because he’s proud of you

“baby,” his voice is soft, eyes even softer as he cups your face. he’d just gotten home from his schedule and you’d greeted him at the door, immediately sharing the news of your promotion with him. it was a small, mostly lateral move, with a tiny raise but you were still excited to share the news with him. he kisses you deeply, trying to convey his pride to you wordlessly. 

“i should tell my mom. she’s going to be so happy for you.” this made you blush. you knew he’d be proud but you didn’t really expect him to be so happy that he’d want to tell everyone. it wasn’t even a big deal. you begged him not to call his mom right that moment and instead conceded to a spontaneous celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant. 

“i’m so proud of you,” this was now the sixth time he told you this since you shared the news with him, the second on the car ride to the restaurant. you blushed every time he said it, and had asked him to stop, to which he refused. in fact, he had doubled down. he threatened to have a cake brought to the table at dinner if you tried to silence him again. at a red light, he fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, “call my mom, for real. i want us to share the news with her. she’s going to be so proud, baby.”

barks: on accident

“baby!” the name came out harsh, frustrated. you’d never heard it that way before; this time, it wasn’t even directed at you. the dressing room fell silent and you watched the blush creep up his neck. the boys were never going to let him live this down. he turned from you, the conversation you were having before he went on stage now gone from his mind. 

“sorry, i meant to say ‘seungkwan’”. he was trying to save the situation but it was awkward. not only had he tried to reprimand his members but he’s accidentally used your name to do it, embarrassing himself in front of his members, staff, and you. what was once a bustling hub of movement and concert preparation came to a screeching, uncomfortable halt at his faux pas. 

“we know you like seungkwan, but we didn't know you liked him that much, hyung.” jeonghan broke the tension saving his leader and ushering in some polite laughter. the commotion slowly began again and he turned back to you. his face looked normal, probably due to the makeup, but his neck was bright red. he was flustered, “they’re never going to let this go, baby.”

[bunnygirllover45]

— The shape of love. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Kidnapping, implied punishment, ugly jealousy, some descriptions of body harm ( just wounds or bruises, and it doesn't get too graphic), lots, and lots of deranged ramblings, it gets very dark at times. This is narrated from the POV of the Yandere, you can read this as a 'letter' of sorts.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 997 (felt lazy and I didn't reach 1k lmao.)

There you go again, looking at me with the same eyes as always.

I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated moments like this inside my head since the last time. It's been a while since I've been this close to you.

The trembling of your body lets me know that your excitement is as big as mine, is your body perhaps unable to contain all those bubbling feelings?

I grab your legs, my hands softly pressing against the flesh, feeling it under mine —so soft and delicate, for a moment I thought that maybe if I pushed my fingers inside of it I could spread it like a cloud made of cotton— when I pressed I could fee the shape of your bones underneath just a little, the sensation made my own body tremble.

It’s a shame you’re still shy to my touch, even if it’s something simple like a small caress or a kiss on the cheek you’re always trying to push away from me, I would love if you to cling onto me more when I do it or have you begging silently to do something more. I know you wouldn’t tell me with words, you’re not good with them.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard you say my name since I brought you here, no?

I should tell you what it is now so you could say it between sighs and I could engrave the sound on the back of my brain forever — those sweet sounds could captivate me forever.

I wonder if you’d say my name with a kind voice, or you’ll just talk to me with the same indifference and fear that’s so characteristic of you. I do admit that is kind of endearing, wild animals were always more interesting than domesticated ones thanks to their hostility, it makes me want to approach them, stick my hand, and see if they’ll bite me, or would just run away and hide in a corner.

I wouldn’t mind if you bit me, I would love to bite you as well in fact, I would wear that mark proudly and I would make sure you do it as well, we could bite our fingers and pretend the marks are our wedding rings, a testament of our love engraved on our skin.

Hahaha — I’m rambling again, please don’t get nervous, you know I usually get lost in my thoughts when I’m here with you, especially when my hands are idly dragging across your skin  — nails and all — leaving red marks behind.

I’m just tracing small invisible circles on your skin and you’re already getting goosebumps, I think that when I touch you delicately like this is when you fear it the most, right? I’m always keeping the momentum, you’ll never know when I can dig my nails into your skin or grab you and never let go.

I press a simple kiss on the skin of your heel, dragging my lips across the length of your leg, what a celestial feeling, there’s nothing in this world that could compare to this mere sensation. You’re trembling again, that makes me smile.

Sometimes when night falls and there are no more thoughts left to think inside my head my mind begins to wander off the path, usually it doesn’t lead me anywhere in particular, but since some time ago I’ve had this constant thought; there are other  —people— that had touched you like this before?

I would like to think that I’m the only one who had the privilege to enjoy all of you, that no other mark of fingers or teeth that doesn’t have the shape of mine has been on your skin.

Thinking like that makes sleeping easier for me.

I’m thankful that right now you can’t speak to me, because if I made you that question and you responded to me that yes, other people had marked you like I did, I think I would had the impulse to tear apart each part of you that has been tainted by them.

Not because I hate you, on the contrary, I just think I couldn’t live with the idea. That you belonged to someone else even if it was just for a moment, what am I saying? I don’t even like the idea of you belonging to yourself.

But if I were to do that, I think I’d like to go to extremes no other people could; kiss your open wounds or taste your blood, that would be romantic, don’t you think?

I press my face against your thighs while I keep dragging my nails up and down your legs, I sigh again, tilting my head slightly to take a better look at you, I can see myself reflected in your own eyes now, how romantic, just like in the movies you like to watch.

I like the me I see in your eyes, I like the idea that it belongs to you alone, the idea of you keeping each small expression I make just for you, each blink would be like a small photograph you take of me and keep inside your head, aaaalll yours.

My mother used to tell me that love is only true if you can see it reflected in the one you love,

From your red cheeks — was I too rough last night?

Your bruised knees — If you would just learn how to sit properly at the table already, it would make our meals more easy.

Your beautiful hands — You should stop trying to take off your handcuffs.

Your shining eyes — Is that a small tear I see? Maybe I should reach it and lick it, I wouldn’t like to go to waste.

Yes, I think for the first time something she said made sense, now that I took a better look at you, I don’t think there’s any better proof of this —

You’re the truest, most beautiful form of ‘love’.

[racetowrite]

Devoted to you

Support a disabled creator

Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader

Tags : overstimulation, safe word, uprotected piv (fuck them kids), afab!fem!reader

Word Count : 2.9k

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself surrounded by the comfort of Lando's strong arms. The warm sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. You snuggle closer to him, relishing in the feel of his body against yours.

Lando stirs slightly as you move against him, and he slowly opens his eyes, a drowsy smile on his face. He pulls you closer, his hand resting on your waist.

"Morning beautiful," he greets you, his voice rough with sleep. "How did you sleep?"

You hum contentedly, snuggling into his chest. "Better now that you're here," you reply, a soft smile on your lips.

He chuckles softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back.

"Good, because I missed holding you like this, this month has been crazy without you” Lando says, nuzzling his face into your hair.

You bask in the comfort of Lando's embrace, feeling your body melt into his as he pulls you even closer. You missed this, missed the easy intimacy and the way you always fit perfectly against each other.

"I missed you too, you know," you reply, your voice a soft murmur. "It felt like this month went on forever without you here."

Lando's arms tighten around you at your words, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "I know, I know," he says, his voice filled with regret. "It sucked being away this long."

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair.

He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "You're so much better than any race," he teases, his lips curving into a crooked smile.

You laugh softly at his words, playfully swatting his chest. "Oh, stop it. You'll make me blush," you retort, though a small blush does indeed color your cheeks.

"Besides, if you really feel that way, you should consider retiring and becoming my personal pillow instead."

Lando grins at your response, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Are you suggesting I give up my high-speed career to become a professional cuddler instead?" he teases, pulling you even closer against him.

"Something like that," you reply with a laugh. "I mean, you're pretty good at it. Plus, think of all the extra sleep you'd get."

You prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a mischievous smile. "And I'd have you all to myself. It's a win-win situation, if you ask me."

Lando pretends to mull it over, feigning a serious expression as he caresses your cheek with his fingers.  “Hmm, you make a valid point. Being a professional cuddler does sound pretty enticing…“

He grins, pulling you back down on top of him so that you’re draped over his chest. “And the idea of having you all to myself sounds even more enticing.”

For the last month while Lando was away racing, you had found yourself constantly missing his presence. You longed for his comforting smile, his infectious laughter, and the warmth of his embrace. Every night, you counted down the days until he would return.

During this time, you had also been contemplating asking him if you could start attending his races in the paddock. You had been together for 6 months now and yet you had never been to a race before.

The idea of seeing him in his element, surrounded by the fast-paced world of Formula 1, both excited and intimidated you. But you knew how much it would mean to both of you if you were there to support him in person. 

As the days passed, the desire to ask him grew stronger. You mentally rehearsed what you would say, trying to find the right words to express how much you cared about his passion and wanted to be a part of it.

Lando, still holding you tightly, notices the contemplative look on your face. "What's on your mind, love?" he asks gently, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your bare back.

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, contemplating how to bring up the topic that’s been on your mind. “Well, I was just wondering…,” you begin, your voice a little hesitant. “I was thinking maybe I could come to your races in the paddock…if you wanted me there, that is.”

Lando’s eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and pleasure flashing across his face. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“You want to come to the paddock?” he repeats, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Really?”

You nod, a nervous smile on your lips. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice gaining a bit more confidence. “I know we haven’t discussed it before and you might have your reasons for not wanting me there, but…I just really want to be a part of your racing world. I want to see you in your element, to support you in person.”

As you continue talking, a sudden insecurity washes over you. Doubt begins to creep into your mind, making you question whether Lando would even want you there.

You anxiously nibble on your bottom lip, your tone becoming more hesitant. “I mean, if you think I’d be a distraction or if it would be too much pressure… I totally understand if you’d rather I stay away…”

Lando immediately notices the change in your demeanor. He pulls you even closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Hey, no…look at me,” he says firmly, making sure you meet his gaze.

He searches your eyes, his expression earnest. “You’re not a distraction, sweet girl. You could never be. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay away. Your support means the world to me.”

Lando’s eyes soften as he sees the uncertainty in yours. He understands your hesitation and wants to assure you that it has nothing to do with his feelings. He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t want you there. That’s not true at all,” he says, his voice genuine and affectionate. “The truth is, I didn’t bring it up because… I was worried about you getting overwhelmed.”

He sighs softly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “The paddock can be chaotic and intense. There are so many people, cameras, the media… I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed by it all. I wanted to protect you, to shield you from that side of my world.”

His gaze meets yours, his expression earnest. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you there. I would love to have you by my side, cheering me on. You have no idea how much that would mean to me. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured or to feel like you had to put yourself in a situation that might make you uncomfortable.”

He caresses your cheek again, his touch gentle and reassuring. “But if you truly want to come, if you’re sure you’re ready for it, then you have my full support. Just promise me you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? “

He leans closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I only want you to be comfortable, love. I care about you too much to let you feel anything other than that.”

Despite Lando’s reassurances and the warmth of his embrace, you can’t shake off a lingering insecurity. You miss him terribly, and a part of you wants to let him know just how much.

The words are on the tip of your tongue but you hesitate, afraid that you’ll come off as clingy or needy. You don’t want him to think you’re dependent on him, or worse, that you’re being too clingy.

Your gaze flickers downwards, fixated on his bare chest, unable to meet his eyes. “Lando…” you begin, your voice soft and hesitant. “I know it’s only been a month, but I…I missed you so much while you were away.”

As the words leave your lips, a pang of vulnerability washes over you. You can feel your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety, afraid of how he’ll react to your admission.

You continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know it probably sounds silly, but it was just really hard without you. I missed waking up to your smile, being surrounded by your warmth, hearing your voice…”

You bite down on your bottom lip, mentally chastising yourself for blurting all this out. But now that you’ve started, it feels like a dam has burst, and all of your feelings are pouring out.

Lando notices the shift in your tone and the way you avoid looking at him. He immediately understands the gravity of your words. They’re not just a simple statement of missing someone; they’re a confession born out of vulnerability and raw emotion.

His grip on you tightens, his body responding to your confession. He gently coaxes your chin up so that you meet him gaze, his eyes searching yours intently.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice soft yet authoritative. He needs to see your face, to gauge the depth of your emotions. When your eyes finally meet his, Lando sees the mixture of vulnerability and insecurity in your gaze.

He can see the storm of emotions roiling beneath the surface, and it breaks his heart a little. He knew you missed him; of course you did. But the depth of your longing is more intense than he had realized.

Lando leans closer, his touch gentle yet possessive. “You have no idea how much I missed you, do you?” he says, his voice laced with a tinge of sadness. “I ached for you every night. I couldn’t sleep without you, couldn’t focus on anything but counting down the days until I could hold you again.”

Lando’s eyes darken with a primal possessiveness, his voice dropping an octave. “I missed waking up to the feel of your soft skin against mine. I missed the smell of your hair, the sound of your voice… You have no idea how much I need you, love.”

He moves closer to you, his body pressed against yours as he whispers the next words against your ear. “I need you to know that you’re mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively. He needs to feel you against him, to remind himself that you’re real and that you’re his.

“You’re mine. You got that?” he asks, his voice a velvet-edged command. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yes, you are. All mine.”

He dips his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck and trailing kisses along the exposed skin.

A couple of hours later, you can’t really tell how many orgasms you’ve had by this point.

Lando had started between your thighs, eating your pussy like a man starved, sucking at your clit until you had soaked his face not once, but twice.

He’d barely given you a change to breathe through the aftershocks before he had sunk two of his thick fingers into you, under the guise of stretching you out for his cock. But you know better. You know because he had immediately sought out your g-spot, pressing into it and chuckling like a bastard when you gasped and your hips twitched.

He’d worked you through two orgasms like that, his two fingers turning into three.

Your mind had already been hazy, your vision slightly blurred when he had sunk his cock into you. You were already so sensitive, and the way he had pounded unrelentingly into your g-spot had made it fucking worse. You had sobbed, hips twitching hard, but Lando held you steady, telling you how good you were. Telling you to cum on his cock. Telling you to cum again. 

And you had, clenching around him hard as you shook in his arms. He floods your pussy with his cum not long after that, and you breathe hard, exhausted and ready to wrap yourself around your boyfriend as you sleep like the dead.

But Lando pulls out of you and you feel his cum leak out of your sensitive pussy. And he takes those thick fingers that you hate to love, and pushes it back in.

He stuffs his cum back into your abused entrance, pressing two fingers into you all over again, and you want to scream when he presses them against your g-spot.

“Lando, ah, ‘s too sensitive. I’m so fucking, so fucking sensitive baby,” you whimper, hips attempting to jerk away, but Lando keeps a strong hand pressed to your lower stomach, holding you still as he plays with your messy cunt. 

“C’mon gorgeous, you can give me another one. So good, so pretty, you gotta give me another one,” he mutters, his muscles bulging as he works his fingers into you, ruthless and unrelenting.

He feels it when you cum again, your pussy fluttering softly, and he smiles. “Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl. Another, c’mon. Another.”

You can only whine, tears slowly leaking down your puffy face. You can’t cum again, you can’t. The last one had hurt, a little bit, your stomach cramping up. It feels like he’s ripping orgasms out of you at this point, forceful and violent. He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t feel it the way you do. They’re not good orgasms anymore, there’s no satisfaction, only aching.

He leans down to pepper kisses under your jaw, soft pecks that are usually a source of comfort, but not now. Not now. He’s still playing with your g-spot, his thumb rubbing hard circles into your clit. You’re numb, but your body still clenches up involuntarily with another orgasm, and oh god, it hurts.

You’re whining high in the back of your throat, little mutters of “too much, ‘s too much Lan-, oh fuck,” whispered between you both. But he isn’t stopping, doesn’t show any plans of stopping anytime soon, and another orgasm wracks your body, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. 

“Red, red, Lando, oh god, red,” you gasp, barely able to fucking breathe. You want to sob in relief when you feel his fingers immediately leave your puffy, abused cunt, but you immediately want to mourn again as his heavy body lifts off of you. His thick hands leave you, leaving you suddenly cold, and you whimper softly.

“Hey, hey,” Lando’s gruff voice filters into your ear, close to your face, but keeping his distance, not taking the chance of touching you when you don’t want it. “Hey, baby, are you hurt? Are you hurting anywhere?” You try to answer, but no sound comes out, your throat sticky and choked. “Just one word, baby, yes or no. Are you hurt?”

“No,”  you mutter, your voice breathy and ruined to your own ears. “Just,” you cough, “hold me?” 

Lando doesn’t hesitate, moving next to you and gathering you up against his naked body, his warm skin a comfort against yours. He’s a little sticky with sweat, but you know that you’re even stickier. You feel wrung dry, the area between your thighs too tacky with a mixture of you and Lando. You’ll need a shower later, but you content yourself with just breathing in Lando’s scent, warm and musky, with a hint of his woodsy deodorant. 

He holds you against him like you’ll disappear, tracing his fingers up your spine as you sync your breathing with his. Neither of you speak, simply existing together as you come back to yourself. You’re not sure how much time passes, only that Lando holds you steady, strong and unyielding in only the way that he can be.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble against his chest, and Lando jerks suddenly, arms hugging you tighter.

“No, baby,” he says, so vehement that you giggle softly. “You never apologize for using the safe word, okay?” You feel his hand come up to nudge your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I am so, so glad you felt safe enough to use it, okay? That took a lot of strength, and I am so proud of you.”

You can’t help how your eyes start to burn at his words, and you desperately want to bury yourself inside of this beautiful, strong, understanding man, and never come out.

“What happened, sweet girl? Just so I don’t do it again, okay? I just need to know,” he whispers, voice cracking just a little bit, and it breaks your heart. You lean up to press a comforting kiss against his lips.

“Just because I can cum multiple times Lando, doesn’t mean I should, okay handsome?” you croak out, and you watch Lando’s brows furrow. 

“You get so hyper-focused on making me cum, baby, and even though that is like, every girl's dream, it starts to hurt after a while, you know?” Lando nods at your explanation, and you smile softly at him.

“You are so, so good in bed baby, but my body can’t really handle that many orgasms back to back. Maybe we can keep it to a maximum of four?”

Lando smooths his hand over your cheek before cupping the back of your head, guiding you into a soft kiss. “Okay, baby, four it is,” he mumbles into your mouth, and you giggle in response, bringing one of your hands up to brush a thumb over his stubbly cheek. 

“I love you Lando,” you whisper, and Lando whimpers softly, almost like he’s relieved.

“I love you too baby, so much. So fucking much,” he says against your lips. He kisses you softly, again and again, chaste and warm and loving.

“You’re too good to me, Lando Norris.”

[dhoranbolt]

You don't fool me

A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.

Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing

Word count: 5k (ish)

This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.

Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).

They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.

"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.

"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.

To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.

"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.

"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.

"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.

Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.

"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.

She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.

'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'

Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.

His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.

If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.

"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.

The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.

He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.

Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.

'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.

"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).

'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'

Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.

“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.

'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'

Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?

'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'

Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?

Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.

'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.

“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.

At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.

'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'

“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.

There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?

'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'

“That’s not-”

'Going once…'

“I don’t-”

'Going TWICE...'

“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.

'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'

Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.

“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–

A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.

Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.

“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.

“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.

“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”

“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.

Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.

“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.

“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.

“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.

“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.

“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.

“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.

“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.

“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.

“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.

“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.

“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.

“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.

She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.

He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.

“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.

“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.

“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.

“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.

“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.

So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.

“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.

Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.

“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.

“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.

“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-

“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.

She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.

He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.

“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.

“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.

“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.

For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.

He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.

When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.

It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.

Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.

“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.

“Sukuna…”

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.

“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.

“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”

“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.

“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.

She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.

“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.

Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.

“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.

She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.

“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.

“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.

His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.

All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.

Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.

Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.

“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.

“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.

But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–

“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.

Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.

“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.

He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.

She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.

“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.

“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”

“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.

“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”

“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.

“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.

“I want- I wanna cum.”

“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.

“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…

“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.

“Beg more, you can do better than that.”

“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.

He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.

God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.

The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.

He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.

“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.

“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.

He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.

“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.

“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.

“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”

“Wait where-”

“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.

Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.

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[jazzyoranges]

Recognizeable

Wednesday Addams x fem!shapeshifter!reader

Summary: based on this ask!

Words: 1.4k

A/n: this kinda doesn’t have a plot 😭 whoopsies

Warnings: blood, wounds, i swear it’s not angsty R just takes a small tumble lol

“Did it hurt?”

“What, when I fell from heaven?” You crack a smile at your very hilarious joke, but Wednesday does her version of a huff and an eye-roll

“Apologies, I should have elaborated better.” You wince a little in pain as Wednesday disinfects the open wound on your knee and the smaller cuts around your body

The Addams girl was taking Thing and her pet bird, aka you, for a walk outside Nevermore in the forest that surrounded the academy as she watched you loop around in circles. She’d assume you were training for some competition if she didn’t know your personality enough, but Wednesday ultimately came to the conclusion you just had the bird equivalent of zoomies

You squawked at other birds as you passed them by in their trees, and Wednesday made a mental note to ask you if you could actually talk and understand them. Her hypothesis was that you couldn’t and you were just making animal noises for your own amusement

Either her hypothesis was true and you had no idea what you said, or you knowingly called a bird a slur. The previous was probably true due to the horrified expression on your face as a murder of crows you were “talking” to started chasing you down. You must’ve squawked something real bad for all of them to come after you.

You miss the smirk Wednesday has on her face.

The crows must’ve overwhelmed you pretty bad, because next thing she knew you were hitting every single branch of a tree in human form. Was that intentional? She’d have to ask you about it later. After she made sure you weren’t dead, of course

Wednesday arrived just in time for you to almost slam straight into her head, but a simple side step caused you to eat shit instead. There was a very noticeable and loud thump when your head hit a tree root. Wednesday would’ve been more concerned if you didn’t immediately curl into the fetal position, mumbling about how you’d take a nap right then and there

Either shapeshifters were gods, or you just had a really fucking thick skull. Wednesday internally smiled at the thought.

The Addams girl was well aware of the smelling salts in her backpack for times like these, but she looked at Thing for what he wanted to do to get you up. You could wait… probably.

After some inspection, Thing decided it was best to call Enid to carry you back to their dorm. The wound on your knee would only make you limp and cause more pain.

Wednesday made sure to keep you alive, though. She poked you with a stick here and there and gave you reassurance, which she saw you smile at.

You were prone to accidents. Both of the Addams knew you were fine. Truly, it was just another Tuesday. Wake up, go to class, take girlfriend and Thing on a walk, you break a bone, it was all a part of the schedule

It wasn’t even a shapeshifter thing either, you just refused to die. Which the Addams was ultimately grateful for, but your ability to visit death like a close friend had Wednesday just a little jealous

A groan of pain from the back of your throat brings the shorter girl back to the present

“Why did you turn human in the middle of the sky?”

“Whenever I shift I have to really concentrate on it the entire time, so I guess those crows just really fucked me up and messed with my focus” You sigh

“Is it hard? To keep concentration, I mean.” Wednesday starts to wrap the bigger wound on your knee with a bandage wrap

“I’ve been doing it forever, so it’s kinda easy. Not when you’re getting jumped by crows, though…”

“Could you not just shift a pair of wings for yourself?”

“I was already focusing on having the thick skull of a ram.” You knock on your head for effect. “How do you think I haven’t died yet?”

Oh so it was a shapeshifter thing. She was right about your thick skull, though

“Perhaps you should tell Enid that,” Wednesday gets up from her kneeling position in front of you. “She almost fainted carrying you on the way here and I have reason to believe it isn’t because you’re heavy.”

“Maybe I should get her something as compensation…” You mumble to yourself as Wednesday helps you out of the bathroom, using her as a crutch so you can flop onto her bed

The Addams girl sits beside you, your face buried in her sheets. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence as Wednesday continues to stare at you, her mind coming up with endless questions about your abilities.

If concentration was a constant concern, was Wednesday not giving you not enough credit? To focus on multiple tasks at once, surely it was hard for someone as air-headed as you. But then again, you have been doing this for your entire life. Did your concentration come as easy as breathing? Was it so natural you barely noticed it?

And surely the process hurt, right? Your molecules were repositioning themselves to fit the look of an entirely different being. What was there a difference between you and Weems?

What were your limitations? Wednesday would like to test them. Maybe if she’d ask kindly enough you’d-

“Ask your questions, Wens” You mumble into her soft bedsheets, your voice snapping Wednesday out of her thoughts

“Pardon?”

“We’re girlfriends. You can read my mind as much as I can read yours”

“And your logical explanation for that, is..?”

“Girlfriend magic.” You hold up your hands while shaking them, and Wednesday immediately recognizes the jazz hands you had quite an addiction to

“Another day, it’s best you rest.”

This makes you turn your head to look at Wednesday, a smile threatening to take over your face

“I don’t understand why people don’t believe me when I say you’re the romantic one” You gush

“Unless you want me to bombard you with questions until morning rises, I’d suggest you stay quiet.”

“Yes ma’am” You pull down Wednesday on her bed, shoving your face into the shorter girls collar.

From that day forward Wednesday asks you one question a day about your abilities, and you make sure to answer them as best as you can. It was something Wednesday appreciated about you.

Answers would span from 15 minutes to almost 2 hours long. There were some days you had to pull out the whiteboard that was collecting dust in the bee shed, writing and drawing out key information

At first it was casual, it really was. But a month later it was almost like class with how the Addams had a book and a half filled with information about you. A class Wednesday could actually get behind.

She’s learned every shapeshifter is different. Some turn into people, some turn into animals, and others can turn into both. So the book and a half was really just information about you, which Wednesday wasn’t exactly opposed to

Meditation seemed to be a pretty big thing to you. Whenever Wednesday was writing, you’d be meditating. At first the Addams questioned if you were compatible being in a room with her loud typewriter, but you insisted the noise was necessary for you to tune out

Another thing Wednesday learned is that you couldn’t exceed four limbs. Which, you made sure to voice your opinion on. The dreams of being a four-legged and two-winged western dragon was impossible, so unfortunately you’d have to make your peace with being a wyvern instead

Small snores came from you curled around Wednesday under a tree as a tiger. She could only focus on how you always somehow resembled your human face

Turning to a new page of her journal, the Addams girl starts to sketch the face of your tiger next to the one of your lion. No matter what form you’d take, Wednesday would be able to recognize it.

[lacyssturns]

GUILTY AS SIN ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

synopsis: reader has always fantasized about being fucked by matt, but can this twist make her fantasies come true?

pairing: f!reader and bsf! matthew sturniolo

warnings : smut, female masterbation, getting caught, matt the munch, big dick matt, soft dom! matt, really bad (im sorry this is my 2nd time writing smut), not proof-read!!!

“we've already done it in my head”

i laid in matt’s bed, staring at the ceiling. i’ve been sexually frustrated for days, and nothing has been working out for me. 

matt said he was going out really quick to buy stuff for our sleepover tonight so i had the house to myself due to his brothers being out with friends.

i feel my teeth take the inner part of my cheek, teething at it over and over. i know i shouldn’t do this but it’s just going to be quick, right?

my hand starts to run down my smooth body, touching each part of my body. once it reaches the top part of my shorts, someone’s face comes in my mind. matt.

suddenly it feels as if matt is the one touching my body. my hand slowly removes my underwear and shorts down to my ankles, leaving my bottom half completely bare on my own best friends bed.

my hands reach my wet pussy, slightly grazing over it. i begin to slightly rub myself slowly, thinking it’s matt doing it to me.

as time quickly pass, i start to insert my ring and middle finger into myself. the feeling of sensitivity runs through my body, the reaction coming right out, “mmm, matt please” i whispered to myself.

pretending my own small fingers are matts, the idea of him pushing his long ones into me, the idea of his face next to mine, the idea of him praising me.

the more my thoughts wander, the faster i start to move my fingers. moaning out for my best friend whos not even here with me.

“matt! oh my god please matt..” i let out louder. i feel a knot start to tighten instead of my stomach, begging to be let undone.

the second i feel myself start to cum to the idea of matts face, i hear the door open and a soft gasp.

my eyes shoot open to the door.

there stands matt staring at me, a soft rosy blush painted across his face. i reach down to my underwear and shorts bunched to the bottom of my feet, quickly pulling it up in embarrassment.

“im so sorry matt, this is so uhm…i think i should go.” i stutter not wanting to look at him. as i try to get up to leave, matt steps closer to me. he connects his soft lips against mine.

before kissing back i was in shock…why would he kiss me after this?

our lips move together in rhythm, finding the need to keep ahold of each other. matt pushes my back against the bed, lips still moving with mine.

he pulls back from me, moving his head down to my neck. “fuck, you looked so hot touching yourself on my bed baby.” he whispered to me, leaving wet kisses down my body.

matt grabs the hem of my shirt, looking at me to make sure i want this. i gave him a nod as he teared off the small t-shirt.

his lips find the valley of my breasts, he stares in my eyes while moving down my body, “im so glad i found you like that you don’t understand” he tells me.

pulling off my shorts and underwear at the same time, his face looking hungry for me. matt pushes my legs away from him, eyes stuck on my wet pussy. he began to kiss my inner thighs.

taking his sweet time makes me even more frustrated, “please i need you so bad matt…” i whine, “so needy my love..” his hot breath hits me where i need him the most.

i feel matt lick up my arousal, “oh my gosh..” i let out, finally getting what i’ve needed forever, “feels so good…”

matt chuckles, lips still touching my sensitive part. his licks turn into sucking, my breathing pacing from the amazing feeling. it felt as if there were fireworks setting off in my tummy.

his two fingers reach me, rubbing circles on my wetness. my moans get louder, “faster…please..faster..” eyes rolling back from the feeling of his fingers inserting me.

“you like that baby?” matt asks, “fuck yes” he laughs once again, “was this what you were imagining?” his fingers move faster, “me fingering you, eating your delicious pussy? huh?” matt teases, knowing i can’t answer in the current state im in.

yet he keeps going, “have you done this before?” no answer comes from me, all i can focus on is his fingers. “answer me.”

i moan again, “im…what did you say?” i ask, his voice drowns out as he keeps pleasuring me. “have you touched yourself to the idea of me before.”

i pout and blush in embarrassment, “yes…” i whisper. “don’t get shy with me gorgeous, it’s okay..” matt reassures, giving me a sweet kiss, fingers still moving in and out of me.

his mouth moved to my right breast, sucking and biting at my nipples, making me hiss out in slight pain but yet pleasure. his fingers some how speed up, “i need to cum matt!” i yell so loud the whole neighborhood can probably hear me. “do what you need, let it all out for me.”

after he says this i come undone, right onto his fingers. my chest rising up and down very quickly. matt removes his fingers from me, them being coated in my juices.

he raises the wet fingers to my lips, “open.” i obey. allowing him to shove his fingers in my mouth, sucking my own cum from him.

matt removes his fingers from my mouth, it making a pop noise from the quick movement.

he moves away from me as he takes off his shirt, then moves to his baggy blue jeans taking them off as if he was in a rush.

now matt sits infront of me with just boxers on. i sit up, taking the top of it, just like he did to me, slowly pulling them down and staring in his eyes. once i get his black boxers off, his dick springs out, slightly hiting his bare stomach.

i lay back on my back, so ready for what’s coming next. matt puts his lips on mine, kissing me, pushing me deeper into the pillow. as our lips move together, matt alines himself with my slit. suddenly pushing himself in.

i moan against his lips, “so big…so big..” i repeat, eyes glued shut. “that’s only half of it baby.”

matt starts to push himself all the way in, feeling so full by his dick. “please matt.” i beg not even knowing what im asking for. my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him so close to me.

he pushes his girthy length in and out of me, my jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. the feeling of him moving so swiftly in my wet walls.

“that’s it, taking me so well.” he whispers in my ear, keeping close to me. my head leans back, moans coming straight out of me like music to matt’s ears. it feels as my climax is quickly coming, being so fucked out by matt.

as if he knew what i was thinking he speaks out, “i know your close baby, just wait for me okay…a little longer.” hot, wet tears roll down my face. trying my best to hold it all in.

matt picks up his pace, “fuck, cmon baby cum on my dick you got it.” he grunts against me as i shut my eyes, seeing stars and legs starting to shake when he just keeps going.

i feel him shoot his load straight into me the same time i come undone onto him. matt stays in me, both of us breathing heavily and speechless.

“you did so good babe.” matt praises, kissing me passionately with a slight smile on his face.

⋆˚࿔ the end 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

@mattsdolll @memea32221 @chris-slut @444alexis

[joelscruff]

one of your girls (frankie morales x triple frontier boys) 18+

a/n it's @swiftiscruff friendship exchange time!!! i'm so beyond excited to share this piece i've been working on, dedicated to my incredible friend han @swiftispunk 🌙 we brainstormed the idea for this fic months ago and it's finally somehow become something tangible - but han, if i've learned anything from writing this fic, it's how much i depend on you when it comes to so many aspects of my writing. whether it be workshopping ideas, input on characterization & dialogue, sharing snippets, etc, you are always there to lend a hand, listen, and advise. not having that this time around (because this fic has been a secret ofc!) just further proved to me what an incredibly patient, giving, caring, kind, & beautiful friend you are. i love you so much & i'm so grateful you slid in my dms one whole year ago today 💕 summary: unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk 🙌) rating: 18+ explicit warnings: circle jerk (frankie/benny/santiago/will), sub!frankie, bukkake, facials, cumplay, cum swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), praise kink galore, pet names (good boy, baby boy), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cock worship, use of restraints, sexy photographs, sharing, mentions of frankie x all the boys individually (this includes tom but he's not involved in the circle jerk - sorry tom), brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf but it's not really the main focus...for now anyway, all of this takes place before the events of triple frontier word count: 12.2k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💙

You've been moving boxes for what feels like forever, arms aching and the sun beating hot against the back of your neck as you swipe sweat from your brow and head back into the aging, disintegrating storage unit. When Frankie had first told you about it you'd been adamant that he move his old things - locked away for almost ten years now - out of the unit and into the new house. "We don't need to be paying for storage when we have a garage", you'd said confidently, "we have a house now, Frankie. What's yours is mine."

If only you'd believed him when he'd told you it wouldn't be that easy.

"I told y-" he begins for the fourth time as you lean down to grab another box, but you snap up immediately with a finger to your lips. "Why don't I just do the rest from here?" He offers fruitlessly, "You take a break, relax in the truck for a little while."

You're already shaking your head before he's finished talking, resuming your retrieval of the large box at your feet, "No, Frankie. We do this together."

You don't have to look at him to know that he's rolling his eyes. All the same, you hear him clamoring after you with another box as he follows you from the unit and back to the truck. The sun hangs high overhead and you squint uncomfortably against it, piling the box alongside the others in the truck bed. Frankie does the same.

"I mean, what's even in all of these?" you ask exasperatedly, shoving one of the many boxes with your hand and leaning backwards against the truck, "How did you accumulate this much shit in the military? I thought minimalism was all the rage over there."

"I told you, it's not just mine," he reaches forward to brush some sweaty tendrils of hair out of your eyes, "It's the whole team's shit. Well, mostly Ben and Pope's, the others were uh-" he winches, "a little more organized, I guess."

"You guess?" you push up on your hands and seat yourself precariously on the edge of the truck bed, catching your breath. Frankie watches as you tear open the nearest box, biting down on his lip to stifle a laugh when he sees your eyes widen at what's inside.

"Paperwork?" you breathe, mouth agape, "Paperwork? That's what in all these? Fucking forms?"

"Something they don't tell you when you first join," he shrugs, "But no, that's not all that's in these. There's souvenirs, journals, photos, mission plans-" he cuts himself off and stops speaking altogether, lips clamping shut. Your brow furrows as you watch him assess the open box beside you, then the others strewn haphazardly here and there inside the truck bed, as if he's only just realized something he hadn't considered before.

"What?"

He seems to shake himself from whatever stopped him, eyes still settled on the open box as he murmurs, "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You raise an eyebrow, "Why not?"

"Just, uh... don't."

"Well that's not ominous in the slightest."

He laughs but something about it seems off, almost forced as he reaches forward with both hands to help you down from the truck. You follow his lead, peering up at him curiously and hoping maybe he'll elaborate, explain, but instead he turns on the spot and heads back toward the storage unit, pulling you along in tow.

You decide not to press him about it for the time being. Right now, all you can think about is finishing hauling these ridiculous boxes and devouring an iced coffee on the way home.

A week passes before you even think about the boxes again.

By that time they've been taking up residence in the garage, haphazardly placed along the concrete in unorganized disarray, exactly where you'd both left them the day you unloaded the unit. You'd been too exhausted to start unpacking and had instead collapsed on the couch, laying there with aching limbs as Frankie discarded your empty iced coffee and poured you a tall glass of water.

"Your job is done now, querida," he'd murmured softly, stroking your cheek, "I'll do the rest."

Except he hadn't. He'd pulled your feet into his lap and settled comfortably beside you on the couch, just for a moment - and then it was lights out for the both of you, boxes be damned.

Now you find yourself the following Saturday perched precariously atop your counter, fingers smeared a soft fern green as you paint the walls of your new kitchen. You only moved into this house a month ago - your first real house together; shared, owned, all that jazz. Most of that time has already been entirely dedicated to making it your own space; unpacking, decorating, furnishing, rearranging - you've been more than busy with curating this new step in both your lives.

Which is why it's not surprising that you forget about the storage unit boxes and their scatteredness in the garage, too distracted by your current ongoing tasks. You hum along to the radio as you carefully attend to the smallest crevices and spaces between the cupboards, above the stove, under the window sill. You need it to be perfect, have gone far too long living in a less than adequate apartment without much creative freedom for this house to suffer the same fate.

Of course, just as you acknowledge the desire for perfection, your hand slips. A splash of green suddenly paints the pure white window sill and your heart sinks.

"Frankie!" you call out with a groan, reaching forward to wipe the mess away and only making it worse, "Where's the white paint?"

"Should be in the garage, I think," you hear him call back from the living room, busy with his own task of painting the walls a deep maroon, "Need me to get it for you?"

"No, I got it," you slide off the counter, careful to avoid the can of green paint at your feet as you make your way to the garage. It's only when you pass the threshold off the laundry room that you finally remember the forgotten boxes, faced with them for the first time since you dropped them off.

"Dammit, Francisco," you mutter, "You said you'd take care of it."

You can't really blame him though. It really is an undertaking; you'd known that from the moment he told you about the unit to begin with. He'd wanted to keep them there, would rather continue paying the monthly fee than deal with the enormous amount of unpacking he'd have to do, but you'd pushed. Now, as you grimace at the pile of heavy boxes, you wonder if maybe he'd been right.

For now, you turn your attention to the task at hand - finding white paint. You scan the storage shelves along the walls and spot the can you're looking for on a high shelf, out of reach.

Maybe those boxes can serve a purpose today.

You shove one toward the shelf and heave another one on top, making quick work of it despite the effort. Climbing onto your makeshift stepladder, you reach for the white paint and successfully pull it to your chest, but the added weight causes your feet to dig into the box below, exposing its contents as you carefully pull yourself back down. Your eyes can't help but dart to the crushed opening, spotting what looks like a photo album peeking through.

Setting the paint down, you lower yourself onto the concrete and cross your legs, biting your lip and reaching inside the box to grab the album. It's navy blue, relatively small, lightweight. A little skim couldn't hurt.

As soon as you open the photo album you can't help but smile, met immediately with a photo of Frankie and Santiago with their arms around each other - fifteen years younger. Their eyes are alight with excitement, Frankie's cap askew and Santi's expression caught in a permanent laugh. Before, you think to yourself, this was before shit got real. You flip the page and smile wider when you see a photo of Benny and Will, caught in what must be a playful brawl with Benny's hand grabbing at Will's leg as he tries to get away. Will is grinning from ear to ear, a genuine smile you've only seen a handful of times. Yep, definitely before.

You flip through the rest of the photos with a heaviness in your heart you can't describe. You've known these boys for a handful of years, have only heard fragments of the shit they've been through together, but you know it wasn't easy, know it affected them in ways you'll never even begin to understand. Being able to see them before all that, before they became hardened and molded by pain and trauma, you can't deny the emotions that bubble in your throat.

The last page contains a group photo; Frankie is in the center, surrounded by his friends on all sides, Will and Benny turned towards him with a fond smile and a grin, Santiago with an arm around him again and his head tilted to brush against Frankie's cap, and Tom on the edge - looking a little out of place, you must admit. But then, you suppose, things haven't really changed.

You're about to close the album and return to your painting when you notice a little pocket built into the backing, hidden out of sight with a hint of white poking through. Not wanting to miss out on another good photo, you slip your finger inside and happily tug out what looks to be a polaroid, different than the others. Curiously, you flip it over.

And immediately drop it to the floor.

Suddenly you can hear Frankie's words from last week, thrumming in your mind on repeat: "Um, maybe don't open any more right now."

You hadn't understood. But now you think you do.

With slightly shaky fingers you reach down and pick up the polaroid, taking a breath before slowly flipping it over again. Lips parted, eyes wide, heart pounding, you peer down at the little photograph and try to understand what you're seeing.

A much younger Frankie - naked, save for the cap on his head and the pants around his ankles. On his knees, peering up at the camera with hooded eyes and a fucked-out expression you've become more than familiar with at this point in your relationship. But that's not what made you drop the photo, no.

His face is covered in cum. You know that's what it is, know there's nothing else it could possibly be. Thick trails of it paint his face like abstract art, dripping down his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, his chin. It's all over him, smeared along his neck and chest bloomed red with heat and arousal. His cap is askew, cheeks flushed, and - most notable of all - he's smiling. Looking up at the camera, drenched in cum, smiling.

Frankie is bisexual; you've known this since your first date, remember how shy he'd been as he'd softly murmured, "Just so you know, I like girls and guys." It hadn't bothered you at all to know that he'd been with men in the past - in fact, you'd kind of liked that about him.

So this - this doesn't bother you. You're not bothered. You're... you don't know what you are, can't seem to pinpoint exactly how you're feeling right now as peer down at the polaroid that you were probably never supposed to find. You're not bothered, you're just... surprised. And confused. What is this doing here? Why is it hidden in an album of Frankie and his friends?

....Oh.

"Find it?" you suddenly hear Frankie call from the living room, and your stomach drops. You hastily stand and slip the polaroid into your back pocket, then close the album and toss it back into the box.

"Y-yeah," you call back, "I got it!"

You try not to mention it. Try, being the operative word.

But it's all you can think about. It's all you see when you reunite with Frankie in the kitchen later that afternoon, staring at the flecks of maroon paint scattered across his face and being unable to not see smears of splattered white. It's all you see that evening as you dig into your leftover Chinese food, eyes constantly flickering across the table to watch Frankie bite and chew, lips soft and wet and definitely not leaking cum at the corners.

It's all you see that night when you settle in bed and watch as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, water dripping down his neck and chest not unlike the thick drops of release in the photo. You watch with hooded eyes, lips parted, heart thrumming, as he tugs the towel off and walks to the dresser with his pert ass on full display. You can't help but wonder if there'd been cum there too, leaking and dripping, hidden away because of the angle of the photo.

"I can feel you staring at me," he suddenly says with a chuckle, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer." He says it in jest but you feel your face bloom with heat, immediately averting your eyes and burying yourself beneath the sheets.

"I was not," you lie, "Get over yourself."

He laughs again and you hear him shut the dresser, probably tugging on a pair of briefs, "You've been looking at me weird all day, it's kind of freaking me out."

You want to point out that "all day" is an exaggeration, but then you'd have to admit that you have been looking at him strangely for at least a portion of it, and you really don't want to do that. Instead, you reach over and turn off the lamp on your bedside table, then nuzzle into your pillow and close your eyes, ignoring him.

"Is something wrong, baby?" you hear him ask, humor slowly dissipating from his voice, "You need to talk about anything?"

"No," you lie, your own voice betraying you immediately, "I'm fine."

You feel the bed dip beside you, feel the warmth of his palm come down to gently caress your upper arm, "You sure? Did I do something to upset you?" You can practically hear him wince as soon as he says the words, "I know, I should already know if I did. But today's been busy and-"

"You didn't do anything, Frankie," you tell him softly, "I promise."

"Then what is it?" you can hear the concern, the gentle worry as he strokes your arm up and down, "Talk to me." He sounds so kind, so tender, as always. It's so damn hard to keep anything from him. You sigh.

"I feel..." you grimace, eyes still closed, "I just feel..."

He waits for you to continue, in the meantime settling into bed beside you and tugging the sheets up over himself. You feel his warmth against your body and it immediately fills you with a sense of calm, comfort. Your heart slows a bit, breaths coming a little easier as he brings his arm down to wrap around you and pull you in close.

"How do you feel, querida?" he murmurs, "Tell me."

"Guilty," you finally breathe, and you're surprised to feel tears pricking in your eyes, "I feel guilty."

You can hear the confusion in his voice, "For what?"

"I...I saw something I shouldn't have," you admit quietly, "In one of your boxes. Something really private that you probably never ever wanted me to see and I'm so sorry." You feel his arm freeze at your side and you take a shaky breath, "And now I can't stop thinking about it even though it's absolutely none of my damn business. And I wanna ask you about it but I really have no right to, not when I wasn't even supposed to know about it in the first place, and-"

"Mierda," he groans - shit.

"I'm so sorry, Frankie" you whisper pathetically, still facing away from him, "It's all my fault and if you need me to just forget about it, I will. I promise that I will."

"Fuck," he murmurs, "No no, baby, it's not your fault, it's mine. I should have unpacked all of it myself. I knew there was shit in there you might not wanna see."

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

He buries his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your neck, "Of course I'm not mad at you - could never be mad at you for that. What's mine is yours, remember?"

You pull away to turn and face him, expression pensive. He's looking at you with earnest eyes, no anger or betrayal to be seen, and it almost makes it worse. Because does he know? Does he realize what exactly it is that you found?

"You have um..." you bite your lip, "You have pictures, in a photo album."

He stares at you, brow furrowing. "What?"

Fuck.

"There was... there was a photo album in one of the boxes. And I figured I'd just flip through it, just to have a look at you when you were younger, you know? Thought it'd be nice, that there might be something we could frame for the house."

He's looking at you like you're speaking another language, confusion lining his features, "....So?"

"So... so I found..." you wince, the image flashing behind your lids again as you try to figure out how to word it, "I found a picture that I don't think you would have wanted me to see."

He's still staring at you, the cogs turning in his head but seemingly no closer to an answer. You picture him flipping through an invisible rolodex, trying to pinpoint exactly what picture you could be talking about. You're starting to realize that maybe when he'd told you to stop looking in the boxes he'd been talking about something else.

"Honestly baby, I thought you meant you looked at some of my paperwork," he admits. Bingo. "Saw some stuff we did for a mission or something. There's plans in those boxes, strategy stuff, and you know how intense some of those were, some of the..." he takes a beat, biting his lip, "some of the things we had to do."

You shake your head quickly, "It wasn't anything like that. It wasn't...it wasn't something serious, really. It was..." you take a deep breath, still unable to say the words. Instead, you reach over into your nightstand and grab the polaroid, sitting up in bed and waiting for him to join you.

"What is it?" he asks, gentle and kind as he sits up beside you, "You can tell me, baby. We can talk about it."

Your heart races but you figure there's no going back from it now, and you're not sure you'd want to keep it from him anyway. Up until this point you and Frankie have always made communication an important part of your relationship. It's been necessary considering what he's been through, what he still deals with, and it's something that you're proud of. You're just gonna have to grin and bear it.

With a sigh, you shakily hand him the polaroid.

He flips it.

And drops it.

"Oh," he gasps, hand coming up to cover his mouth, "Oh, fuck."

"It's not- I'm not-" you stutter, fumbling over your words, "It's not a big deal, really. Like, it's whatever. I know you're bi, I know you've probably sucked your fair share of dicks-"

"Oh god," Frankie moans, his hands coming up to cover his eyes, "Oh my god."

"Hey, hey, no," you reach up and try to pull his hands away from his face, desperation in your voice, "Do not hide from me, you did nothing wrong. You hear me? There's nothing wrong with this." He groans again, shaking his head, but you just keep on talking, "I'm not mad about it or anything, it'd be pretty fucked up for me to mad about it actually. I'm just- hey," you continue to pry at his fingers, "Francisco, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, he finally removes his hands from his eyes to peer at you. You can see the embarrassment there, the humiliation - and not the good kind, not the kind he likes.

"Hey," you whisper, "You don't have to talk about this. We can pretend I never even saw it if that's what you want," you bring his hands down and hold them tightly, squeeze them in your own, "I just... I just wanted you to know that I saw it. And that I was just a little curious about why it was in an album from your military days. That's it. That's all."

His eyes fall back to the flipped polaroid on the bed, the back of it facing the both of you. You watch as he slowly reaches forward to pick it up again with his index and middle finger, pulls it upwards and turns it around to see it again.

Out of respect for him, you don't look at it. You just watch his face, his expression. He looks.... thoughtful.

"Talk to me," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please."

He looks from the polaroid to you, then back to the polaroid. After taking a steadying breath, he places it back down onto the bed between the two of you, face up. Your eyes spot his cum-covered face again, frozen forever in time, and you quickly avert your gaze.

He notices, and gives you a small half smile. You return it tenfold.

"Well, it.." he starts, taking another breath, "It was just something that.. we just started-" he cuts himself off, smile turning to a frown as he formulates his words. "It started..."

"Hey," you breathe, reaching down to squeeze his hands again, "Take your time."

It started as a way to blow off steam - that's it. Simple, easy.

They'd all gotten to know one another during training, spent time shooting the shit and building friendships with each other. There had been such a sense of belonging, of fortified brotherhood, a pull toward one another that none of them could deny. So it was unsurprising when their teamwork and comradery resulted in their placement into a special task force, just the five of them against the world - or, rather, the enemy.

But it was stressful. Going from basic military training to special ops added a new layer of pressure and competence that they hadn't experienced before, and it was no walk in the park. Things got harder, more pressing, more important. And all they had, like always, was each other.

So it made sense one night, for Frankie anyway, to offer Santiago a blowjob.

He'd heard the stiff grunts from the bed beside him, the dry - too dry - slap of skin as Santi worked at himself beneath the thin sheet of his bunk. It wasn't abnormal for Frankie to overhear one of his buddies masturbating; in fact it would have been abnormal to not hear it. He'd gotten used to the different sounds they'd each make as they gripped their cocks, hidden away in the dark, and pumped themselves to completion. He had memorized the sounds of their breathing, the grunts and the whines, the soft moans of their orgasms.

But it was never something that was discussed. It was an unspoken rule, almost: what happens in the bunks stays in the bunks. So Frankie had never even considered crossing that line, especially because he was pretty sure he was the only one in the group who liked dudes - something everyone was only vaguely aware of.

There was something about the desperation in Santi's movements that night, in the sweat on his brow and the pained expression on his face. He'd gotten reprimanded earlier that day for failing a training mission, been yelled at by two commanding officers while the rest of the boys looked on with regret in their hearts. If one of them failed, they all felt as if they'd failed too. Santi hadn't spoken to anyone for the rest of the day, had eaten in silence and then retired to his bunk much too early. And now, hours later here he was, hand around his cock, trying to forget.

And Frankie wanted to help.

"Pope," he'd whispered under his breath, just loud enough for Santiago to hear. Santi had turned his head slightly, eyebrows raising when he realized he'd been caught in the act. He'd been about to say something, defend himself maybe, but Frankie had shook his head and continued, "Need some help?"

A look of confusion. "Help?"

Frankie's eyes had wandered to the shape of Santi's lower half beneath the sheet, then back up to meet his gaze.

"Yeah," he'd murmured earnestly, "Help."

Santi had stared at him for a few seconds, brow furrowed, chest heaving. His hand was frozen under the sheet, gripping firmly to his hard cock as he'd considered Frankie's offer. Someone else might have hurled hurtful words, another might have ignored him completely.

But Santi took a deep breath and leaned back, closed his eyes and breathed, "Go ahead."

Frankie had been under the sheet in minutes.

Tucked away, hidden in case any of the other guys woke up, Frankie sucked slowly on his friend's cock. He wasn't sure how much Santi wanted to see of him, figured maybe he'd have his eyes closed as he pictured someone else, maybe that girl he liked from back home, but it didn't matter to Frankie - what mattered most was helping his friend forget about the shitty day he'd had. He treated Santi's cock like something to be worshipped, swallowing and licking around the big shape of him, warm and thick in his mouth. And when Santi came, it was only moments after Frankie had started.

His hands came down to grip Frankie's curls, tugging and pulling as he'd groaned and spilled down his friend's throat. And Frankie had swallowed every drop.

"Francisco," Santi had murmured when Frankie pulled off his cock with a pop, a drop of cum leaking from the corner of his mouth as he peered up at Santi from beneath the sheet, "You've been holding out on me."

With a smile, Frankie had licked the cum away and placed a gentle, reverent kiss to the wet head of Santi's cock. Santi had watched with hooded eyes, let Frankie kiss him there a few more times, let him trail his nose along his thick shaft and inhale deeply at the base. Hands still carding through his hair, Santi had let him mouth at his cock for a few more minutes before softly telling him he should get back in his bunk.

"Just trying to savor it," Frankie had whispered, voice a little sad, a little broken.

"You'll do it again," Santi had replied, reveling in the way Frankie's eyes widened, a smile lighting up his face.

And he did do it again - the following night. He'd been a little hesitant, unsure if Santiago had really meant what he said. But after the others had fallen asleep and Frankie was still just lying there, waiting, he'd heard a soft pssst sound. He'd looked over to see Santi sitting up in bed with a smirk on his face and one hand already beneath the sheet, tugging at his dick.

He stuffed his mouth with Santi's cock every night that week. It was almost feral the way he drank him down, eyes rolling as his lips kissed Santi's pubic hair and his tongue laved the shaft of his cock up and down, up and down. Drool cascaded from his lips all over his friend's belly, and he whined softly over and over whenever his curls were tugged, his temples stroked. Santi would talk to him softly, murmur the quietest little praises that made Frankie insane with need. That's it, there you go. You take what you need, Francisco. And then he'd come down his throat, fill his stomach with it, and whisper, "Good boy."

It was filthy, but it wasn't wrong. Not one part of it felt wrong. And Santiago never once made him feel like it was a shameful secret they were keeping, like the others finding out would be the end of the world. And it's good that he'd maintained that stance, because soon enough, Benny was in on it too. They should have seen it coming, considering his bunk was directly above Santi's.

"Can you give me one, maybe?" he'd asked Frankie awkwardly one night, voice quiet and slightly nervous as he leaned over the bars of the bunk bed, "I've been... I've been listening to it every night and it's driving me fuckin' crazy that I don't know what it feels like."

"Are you saying you've never had a blowjob, Ben?"

Benny had rolled his eyes, "Of course I've had a fuckin' blowjob, idiot. I've just never had a... a you know..." he'd shrugged, "A Frankie blowjob."

"It's good," Santi had said nonchalantly, tugging off his shirt and climbing into his bunk, "He's fucking incredible, actually."

Frankie had preened at the praise, cheeks reddening. An hour later he'd climbed up into Benny's bunk and deepthroated his cock for a solid fifteen minutes. Benny was breathless, chest blooming with heat as he watched Frankie suck and drool, gagging every so often but immediately resuming his sloppy ministrations as soon as he'd caught his breath.

"Look at that," Benny had marveled softly, "Look at that."

"I told you," they'd both heard Santi whisper from below, "He's a fucking godsend."

"I'm gonna cum down your fuckin' throat, Frankie," Benny had groaned, and no sooner were the words out that he was following through, spurting slow and steady into Frankie's mouth. He gripped the back of his head, watched Frankie swallow, and then whispered, "Good boy". Oh, he really had been listening.

Sated and warm with wet and sticky briefs, Frankie had climbed back into bed with a new appreciation for Benny.

As if two wasn't enough, Will got involved shortly after that. Of course Benny had unsurprisingly spilled the beans to his brother, which lead to Frankie climbing atop his own bunk one night to join Will, who'd been a bit unsure. It was as if he thought a prank was being pulled on him, like it was all bullshit, but he didn't say no.

"Been wonderin' what you three were gettin' up to," he'd muttered, watching Frankie a bit dubiously, brow furrowed, arms crossed, "Ben says you're, uh... good."

"I'm good," Frankie had promised softly, bringing his hands down to tug at Will's boxers, "Promise."

Will had watched as Frankie brought his already hardening cock out of his underwear, kissed the tip gently and then brought it into his mouth. "Oh fuck," he'd heard Will gasp out, immediately reaching up to cup the back of Frankie's head. And then there were three.

But three stayed three. Tom did find out about it, considering every single night somebody seemed to be getting their dick sucked. Any discreetness had gone out the window, especially when two of them would jack themselves off to the sounds of Frankie slurping and sucking, groans and the heavy slap of skin echoing throughout the large room. But despite the knowledge of what his friends were doing, the leader of the group was seemingly disinterested in having a go with Frankie.

There was one disastrous evening wherein the others managed to convince Tom to give it a shot. But Frankie bobbed on his cock for a solid five minutes before realizing he just wasn't getting him hard, and Tom had pushed him away and turned in bed with a low sigh.

"It's just not for me, Fish," he'd muttered, "Pretend it never happened."

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Santi had murmured ten minutes later as he watched Frankie suckle on the leaking tip of his cock, "Huh, Francisco? Doesn't know you've got the mouth of an angel, huh?"

Frankie had continued to suck, eyes closed, breathing deeply in and out as Santi stroked his hair.

Things were easier for a while after that. The training was strenuous, oftentimes near impossible, but there was always pleasure at the end of it, always something to look forward to. Every night Frankie would take up residence in someone's bunk, usually after a quick game of rock paper scissors or a straw draw. Each of his friends were different in their own way, and Frankie took a lot of joy in being able to have those moments with them, be what they needed. It felt like he was floating, dreaming; he'd never realized how badly he wanted to be submissive like this until it actually happened. Being their shared prize, their plaything, it was fucking incredible.

Sometimes he'd have all three in one night. He'd deepthroat Benny's cock and swallow him down, then stagger to Will's bunk and do the same. With his own erection aching in his underwear he'd finally crawl in with Santi and allow his closest friend to pull down his briefs and notch the head of his cock into his ass. Santi was the only one who fucked him, the only one who held him close afterwards and sometimes fell asleep with him.

"You my good boy, Francisco?" he'd murmur in Frankie's ear as he fucked him slow and deep, fingers digging into his hips beneath the sheets, "You like feelin' that cock in your ass?"

And god, did he ever.

The first real mission was brutal.

It was tame compared to the things they'd eventually do, but for what it was, they were stressed out of their minds. They spent weeks planning, training, preparing. They'd find themselves so tired at the end of the day that their nighttime habits became a thing of the past, if not something that only happened once in a blue moon. And in its own way the lack of it had begun to affect everything else, their comradery, their abilities, their drive. The day before the mission was set to begin, Benny stood up at dinner and proclaimed, "We've gotta get our shit together."

"Sit down, our shit is together," Tom grumbled, "We're gonna be fine."

"We are not gonna be fine," Benny argued, expression genuinely fearful, "We're gonna fail the whole fuckin' thing and then we're out on our asses."

"There's truth to that, you know there is," Will pointed out as he pulled Benny back down, "There's somethin' missing here. We're not on our A game."

"What, 'cause Morales isn't getting sucked and fucked?"

Frankie's head had gone up, ears tinging pink as he looked over at Tom along with everybody else. There had been a beat of silence, and then-

"Nobody said that," Santi had stated calmly, "And don't be a dick."

"I'm not being a dick. It's fine what you all get up to in your own time, whatever. But it's not the be-all and end-all of our fucking team," he'd shrugged and looked at Santi with a frown, "I mean, come on, Pope. We're prepared, with or without the extracurriculars."

"We are," Santiago had agreed with a nod, turning to Benny, "It's gonna be fine, man. The nerves are just kicking in now but that's normal. We've trained for this, we're ready."

But Frankie could tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.

That night, despite the tiredness of the last day of training and the anxiety of what was to come - Frankie found a solution. He told Santi first, whispered it to him in his bunk and grinned at the expression on his friend's face, awestruck and aroused all at once.

"You're sure?" Santi asked him quietly.

"I'm sure. I think it'll help us de-stress."

Santi had leaned forward and tilted Frankie's cap up, pressed a firm kiss to his forehead and murmured, "Me sigues sorprendiendo, Francisco." You continue to surprise me.

A moment later he was climbing the ladder of Santi's bunk, coming face to face with Benny. "You wanna do something kinky?"

The younger man's eyebrow raised, "Kinkier than usual?"

"A blowjob is not kinky, Ben."

"Getting one from a guy is."

Frankie rolled his eyes and went to pull himself back down the ladder but Benny stopped him, reaching out to touch his wrist.

"What'd you have in mind?"

And that's how he'd ended up on his knees.

Will and Benny stood on either side of Santiago, all three men looking down at their submissive friend with unbridled arousal in their expressions, dark and anticipatory. There was silence at first, not necessarily awkward but full of a definite tension that was more than palpable.

Until-

"Tie him up," Santi murmured to Benny. Frankie's eyes went hooded almost immediately, lips parting as he peered up at his friends and felt his heart pound at the thought of what Santi was asking.

"How so?"

"His hands," Santi clarified, "There's some string in the first aid kit, tie his hands behind his back so he can't touch himself."

Benny followed his orders without question, heading toward the bathroom to grab the kit while Will gave Santiago a confused look. "Why can't he touch himself?"

Santi smiled, tilting his head a bit and peering down at Frankie's already debauched form. He walked forward and kneeled down in front of him, levelling with him as he reached for his waistband.

"'Cause he likes it," Santi murmured, "Haven't you noticed something about Frankie in all the months we've been doing this?" As he spoke he pulled down Frankie's pants to his knees, exposing his bare thighs to the room. He was already hard, the long shape of his cock protruding from his black briefs. "He doesn't touch himself," he continued softly, stroking his thumb gently against the V of Frankie's hips, "He always comes in his pants when he sucks our dicks."

Hearing the words aloud, stated so matter-of-factly, Frankie realized in that moment how fucking well Santiago had come to know him. Not once had Frankie voiced this, told him anything about what he really liked, what he craved. And yet here he was, having his desires told directly to him, like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"And when he gets fucked," Santi continued, fingers trailing downward to ever so gently cup Frankie's cock, "He only lets me touch it. Ain't that right, Francisco?"

Frankie nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat.

"Why?" Will asked again - always wanting clarification, an explanation.

"'Cause it feels good, doesn't it, Frankie?" Santi cooed, releasing Frankie's bulge and bringing his hand up to place a finger under his chin, "Feels so good to come untouched, huh? Feels good to let go when you've got a dick in your mouth, to fall asleep with your underwear all wet and your cock all sticky?"

Frankie nodded again, cheeks blooming pink. He felt someone behind him pick up his hands, start tying them together - Benny.

"Come to think of it, I've never seen his cock," Benny admitted, voice already rough with anticipation, "I mean... I guess I had other things on my mind."

"He's got a fucking great cock," Santi murmured, "Why don't you show 'em, Francisco? Let 'em see what you've been hiding under here, huh?" His finger dug into the band of Frankie's briefs, and all Frankie could do was nod again, unable to speak with the way his thoughts had begun to melt away, brain going fuzzy.

Benny finished tying his hands and walked in front of him again to stand alongside Santi, eyebrows going up when he watched Frankie's cock be freed from the confines of his underwear. It stood at attention immediately, long and hard, pink and flushed at the tip. It smacked wetly against his belly, balls hanging heavy and full as Santi pulled his briefs down entirely.

"Now look at that pretty cock," Santi breathed, almost just for Frankie alone, "Look how it's dripping."

And it was dripping, already pulsing and bobbing against his belly button with every rise and fall of his chest. The three men watched in silence for a moment as Frankie took deep breaths, his cock twitching and stuttering in front of them without being touched, simply exposed to the cool air of the room and their interested gazes.

"I kinda wanna...." Benny started to say, but trailed off, blushing a bit as he took a step away from his brother.

"I'll stay between you," Santi offered quickly, "Pull 'em out, it's fine."

There was no more hesitation after that. Frankie watched under his lashes as his three friends reached into their pajama pants and pulled out their cocks. Will was still mostly soft, though you could tell he was starting to harden with the sudden gravity of the situation. Benny was already stiff and leaking as he fisted his own, and Santiago's hung heavy and thick between his legs as he carefully circled the head with his thumb.

"We're gonna come all over your face, Frank," Benny told him quietly as he jerked his cock slowly up and down, "You know that, right? You're sure you're cool with that?"

It was like he was underwater, still unable to speak; he hadn't said one word since he'd gotten on his knees. It was as if the submissive part of him had taken over completely, mind going blank.

"Say yes or no, Fish," Will said, voice strained as he squeezed himself gently, "Wanna hear it."

"Yes," Frankie had finally managed to whimper, knees trembling against the cold floor, "Yes, please."

Santi grinned, "Well boys, I think we got our answer," He tilted his head again to eye Frankie from where he stood, "Let's get a little closer, shall we? I think he wants us up close and personal."

Within a few seconds Frankie was suddenly face to face with three cocks - it was like fucking Christmas morning. His mouth popped open and drool immediately began to collect in the corners of his mouth, eyes trailing back and forth to look at absolutely everything he could. He stared at the weeping tips, the fat heads, the thick shafts where his friends pumped and fisted. Without any thoughts in his brain he opened his mouth and laid his tongue flat against his lower lip, staring at Benny's cock - arguably the biggest - with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, you wanna suck on it, don't you?" Benny asked, a smile in his voice, "You go ahead, Fish. Suck that cock."

He did not need telling twice. His lips wrapped around the pink mushroom head of Benny's cock and his eyes rolled back as he began to suck, tongue lapping at the tip and devouring everything it had to offer. God he loved having his mouth full, loved hearing Benny's groans as he pushed his head forward and enveloped more and more of the cock in front of him, began to slide his lips up and down the shaft and cover it in his saliva.

"So pretty with a cock in your throat, Francisco," Santi told him, voice full of praise as he watched Frankie sink down even further on Benny's cock, 'til his nose was buried in his pubic hair. "Tell him how pretty he is, Benny. He wants to hear it."

Frankie anticipated some hesitance, maybe even a sarcastic comment, but Benny did no such thing. Instead, Benny's hand came up to cup the back of Frankie's head, holding him still on his cock as he breathed, "You're so pretty, Frankie."

A high keen of a whine made it's way from Frankie's throat, vibrated around the cock in his mouth. Benny trembled a bit, tangling his fingers in his hair and helping him bob a few more times before pulling him off completely. Frankie gasped for breath, tears in his eyes as he stared up at his friends.

"Your turn," Santi murmured quietly to Will, "Stuff him full."

"He fuckin' loves being stuffed," Will replied with a low chuckle, yanking Frankie forward by his hair and shoving his now fully hard cock into his mouth. It was the kind of rough Frankie was already well acquainted with when it came to Will, and he welcomed it with gratitude. He closed his eyes and allowed Will's cock to sink into his mouth like Benny's had, then swallowed around it, tightening the walls of his throat and gagging around the large intrusion.

"Yeah, choke on it, baby," Will muttered, gripping both sides of Frankie's head with a groan, "Baby boy."

Baby boy. That was a new one, especially from Will, but Frankie certainly wasn't complaining. He swallowed around him again, feeling his own cock bob against his stomach as he continued to worship Will's dick. There was only so much of the sensation that Will could take, and before long he too was pulling out of Frankie's mouth and resuming his slow strokes, breathing heavily.

"M'your baby boy," Frankie murmured to the three of them, Will's words still echoing in his mind. His voice was already completely shot, rough and scratchy from the two large cocks that had invaded his throat.

"You are," Santiago cooed, leaning forward to gently tap the head of his own cock against Frankie's bottom lip, "You're our baby boy, Frankie. Our good, pretty, perfect boy, huh?"

Yes, Frankie wanted to whisper, it's all I am. It's all I wanna be. But his mouth was already being filled a third time, this time by Santi's cock - the thickest of the three. His vision blurred with tears as it stretched his lips, the masculine taste dripping on the back of his tongue and down his throat. He'd had Santi's cock in his mouth the most out of everyone's; had fallen asleep a few times suckling on the tip of it while Santi murmured praise, like a comfort, a constant.

He knew exactly what Santi liked, what he didn't, how to tease him, how to get him there. Immediately, Frankie curled his tongue around the wide head, dipped the tip of it into Santi's slit and carefully fucked it in and out while suctioning the rest. He kept his eyes open this time even though they burned with tears, allowing himself to meet Santiago's gaze just how he knew he liked it.

"Oh, good boy," Santi praised softly, thumbing Frankie's cheeks and letting the head of his cock sit just inside the wet heat of his mouth, "Suckin' on that cock like it's my thumb, huh? Just how you like it?"

Now that was something unbeknownst to Benny and Will. They knew Santi liked to fuck Frankie sometimes, but they didn't know much about the logistics, the positioning, the way it worked. More often than not, Frankie would suck on Santi's thumb when he was being fucked, liked the feeling of having both his holes full at the same time. It felt complete somehow, safe. God, what would it feel like now if Santi were to fuck him and let Benny or Will fuck his throat? What would it feel like to be truly filled up like that, the way he'd always imagined? His cock twitched against his belly again, still untouched, still pulsing, and he moaned around Santi's cock.

"I think our baby boy needs a little break," Santi murmured softly, "Shh, it's okay, Frankie, it's alright," he slowly pulled his cock from Frankie's lips and allowed him to catch his breath, chest heaving. He felt multiple hands petting his hair, stroking his cheeks, thumbing his temples. Someone brushed one of his nipples, pinched it ever so gently and then did the same to the other one.

"Sweet little things," Will murmured, and that answered that.

"He really is a fucking godsend, Pope," Benny breathed, disbelief and awe playing at the edge of his voice, "Softest mouth I've ever felt."

"His eyes are what get me," Santi replied, and Frankie felt him take his cap off and toss it to the side, then a pair of lips kiss his forehead, "He's got the prettiest brown eyes, look so beautiful when he's got that wet mouth all full."

The way they talked about him, like he wasn't even there, like he was just a toy, something to play with, an object - it was so much. It was too much. He leaned back on his haunches and whimpered, eyes fluttering open as he looked up at his friends, still standing in front of him with their now very wet cocks in their hands.

"Put them on my face," he begged, voice broken and haggard, "All of them, please."

"Fuck," Benny gasped out, and without hesitation he placed the entire length of his cock along Frankie's cheek and forehead, tapping it a few times and hissing, "There you go. There it is, baby boy."

"You go around the other side," Santi told Will, knowing he wouldn't want to touch Benny's cock, "Put yours upside down on his other cheek, I'll go middle."

Benny was still slapping Frankie's face gently with his cock, hissing and groaning out words of praise. Santi slapped his own down across the center of his face, along his nose and lips. His cock settled up against Benny's, and for the shortest of seconds Frankie noted that they rubbed them together without speaking, without looking at each other. Will joined them on the other side, his balls hanging low on Frankie's forehead and his tip jutting out near his chin. Three cocks, side by side, covering their friend's entire face.

"Slap him with them, he likes that," Benny said through gritted teeth, doing it again and again and reveling in the whimpers and whines Frankie was making below them, "Ohhh, he fuckin' loves that."

"I don't think I can last," Will spit, voice more strained than it had been before, "This is too much, I'm gonna blow my whole fuckin' load any minute now."

"No one's stopping you," Santi encouraged, "Doesn't matter when we come, what matters is we do it all over his face. Cover him with it."

"Oh, he's gonna be fuckin' drenched," Benny groaned, eyes closing as he stilled his slapping movements to hold back his own orgasm. His voice was wild now, desperate, "I wanna come in his mouth, I call dibs."

"You hear that, Frankie, baby?" Santi murmured with a sly smile, "Benny called dibs on filling your mouth."

Frankie wouldn't have responded even if he could, just let out another whimpering moan and dropped his jaw, lolled his tongue out so his friends could take turns tapping the heads of their cocks against it. He was covered in precum, felt it dribbling down his chin and forehead, collecting behind his teeth and dripping down the back of his throat.

"Let him suck," Will hissed, "Let him suck mine one more time." At his words, Benny and Santi moved out of the way as best they could, Santi tapping Frankie's eyelid with his cock while Benny smeared more precum into his forehead. They watched as Frankie carefully suckled Will's tip into his mouth, closed his lips around him and hummed.

"Put it in your throat, baby boy," Will told him firmly, "Swallow around it, there you go. Thaaat's a good boy."

Gurgling sounds were coming from Frankie's gag reflex but he didn't stop or pull away, kept doing exactly what he knew Will needed as he swallowed him down. It took barely any time at all for it to be too much for Will to handle, and before any of them knew it he was pulling out and pumping his cock furiously over Frankie's face. Benny and Santi stepped back - they all knew what was coming.

"Don't come in his mouth, I called dibs," Benny warned, and Frankie could have sworn he heard Santiago chuckle.

"Keep your eyes closed, Fish," Will muttered, directly in front of him now as the wet sounds of his fist slipping up and down his cock filled the room, "Gonna paint that pretty little face and those sweet little nipples."

Franke whimpered, keeping his eyes closed as he continued to listen to what was going on around him. He could hear Santi and Benny still jerking themselves a few steps away, but Will's grunts and groans were the most prominent, the most present. And only a few seconds later he felt the first splash of cum hit his face - his left cheek.

"There it is," Santi egged Will on, "There he goes."

Another rope of cum landed on his forehead, dripped down onto his eyebrow. Then another on his chin. He listened as Will let out one more groan, still pumping his cock as he aimed at Frankie's bare chest. He felt two more spurts trickle down both of his nipples, sensitive and hard, and that was it.

"Fuck," Will groaned, satisfaction plain as day in his voice, "Fuck, Frankie."

He opened his eyes and was met with Will's cock, tight in his fist. Without hesitation he leaned forward and brought the tip gently into his mouth, licking off the excess cum as Will brought his hand down to play with Frankie's curls. He sucked for a few seconds, placed a soft kiss to the tip - his favorite spot - and then looked up to meet Will's gaze, a dazed little smile playing on his lips.

"Give it one more little kiss, baby boy," Will murmured, "Just one more." Frankie did as he was told, eyelashes fluttering as he kissed the sticky tip once more, and then Will was backing up to let Santi and Benny back into their spots.

"You're a good boy, Fish," he murmured, tucking himself back into his pants. "Mind if I watch the rest?"

"Please stay," Frankie managed to breathe, and the movement of his face caused some of the cum in his eyebrow to trickle downwards, dipping into the crevice of his nose. Will smiled and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall to observe.

"Won't be much longer now, Francisco," Santi told him softly, shuffling forward to carefully fill Frankie's mouth again with his dick. He watched with fascination as Frankie slowly bobbed on it, like muscle memory as he breathed evenly through his nose. "M'close. I think Benny's close too."

"You look so fuckin' good with all that cum on your face," Benny told him, voice almost pained, "Gonna look even better with more."

Surprisingly, Frankie pulled off Santi's dick without being told to do so and peered over at Benny with hunger in his eyes, "Can you... can I..." he cut himself off, going bright red as he looked back to Santi for reassurance.

"What is it, baby?" Santi asked softly, brow furrowing, "You good? You need to take a break?"

Frankie shook his head quickly, "N-no, I just...I..." he bit his lip and hoped his sudden idea wasn't about to be shot down, "Can you put them both in at the same time?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Fuck," Benny groaned, "Fuck, that's hot." There was no doubt in Frankie's mind now that Benny had quite liked having his dick so close to Santi's, so it made him grin when Benny moved forward to stand beside his friend and jut his cock out toward Frankie's mouth.

"Open up, Fish."

Dropping his jaw once again and staring wide eyed up at his teammates, cum still fresh and sticky all over his face, Frankie allowed Benny and Santi to slide both their cocks into his waiting mouth. The feeling was insane. The taste was insane. All masculine and heady and musky and wet, the smell of sweat and raw sex invading his nostrils as they both pushed their dicks further in alongside each other. Frankie felt two hands in his hair, one of Santi's and one of Benny's, holding him still.

"Oh fuck, I need a picture of this," Benny groaned, blinking furiously as he peered down at where he and Santi's dicks jutted out from Frankie's mouth. "Will, grab Pope's camera, I'm serious. I need to remember this."

As Will made his way to the bunks, Frankie continued to blink slowly and languidly, tongue almost lazily swirling along the fat heads of the two big cocks in his mouth. They were dripping everywhere, warm and sticky, layering the back of his tongue with all of their arousal. And he was so fucking overwhelmed.

"Two cocks," Santi breathed, thumbing a bit of Will's cum that had begun to dry on Frankie's cheek, "Two fat cocks for Frankie, huh?"

"Look at how his lips stretch," Benny added, pushing his cock in the tiniest bit further to watch how Frankie's mouth adjusted to the size, "S'like he was made for it."

"He was made for it," Santi agreed softly, pushing some hair out of Frankie's face and tucking it behind his ear, "Huh, Francisco? Were you made for this?"

Another slow blink and an even slower nod, careful not to dislodge the appendages in his mouth. Benny assessed the door Will had left through and then hesitated for a moment before turning to Santi and whispering, "You feel good, Pope," under his breath.

"So do you," Santi replied with a smile, "Y'got a nice dick."

Benny seemed a bit flustered, avoiding Santiago's gaze as he muttered, "Thanks."

Will rejoined them a few seconds later, Santiago's polaroid camera in hand. Frankie watched with pleasure as Will brought the camera over his head and faced it downwards, preparing the shot.

"Chipmunk cheeks," Will murmured fondly, snapping the picture with a smile, "This'll do great for the annual Christmas card, huh boys?" It was a joke of course; they all knew that what was happening right would more than likely never leave the base, but Santi and Benny laughed nonetheless, pushing their cocks just a little bit more into Frankie's mouth.

"He's full," Benny murmured, "All filled up."

"Not entirely," Santi chuckled, "But close enough."

Their teasing words, their smiles and their laughs, it was making Frankie crazy. His untouched cock was still bobbing on its own accord, twitching and dripping as they talked about him like he wasn't even there. He was going to come soon, he just knew it, and the thought alone made him whine around his friend's dicks, his eyes rolling back.

"Shh, it's okay, Francisco," Santi reassured him softly, "Just give us one more minute to enjoy this, okay? Will's gonna take a few more pictures. You just stay still and keep suckin' on those cocks."

"You got this, Fish," Benny murmured, "You can do it, you're a good boy."

I am, Frankie thought to himself as he closed his eyes and heard the snap of another photo, I am a good boy.

Will took two more pictures with the camera so they'd each have one, tugging the polaroids out as they developed and waving them in the air. This was better than any porno magazine they'd ever be able to stow away, something real and raw, perfect spank bank material.

"I want the first one, where his eyes are open," Santi told Will when he was done, "Calling dibs."

"You got it."

Finally, Benny and Santi pulled themselves slowly out of Frankie's mouth, leaving him nothing but a drooling, lightheaded mess on his knees in front of them. He gasped for breath, head going down as he coughed and spluttered. He felt Will's hands patting his back, helping him through it as his chest heaved.

"Gonna come all over that pretty face, Fish," he heard Benny groan, "Open that mouth again, gonna fill it up."

With all the strength he could muster, Frankie tilted his head up and shakily opened his mouth again. His jaw was sore and aching but he knew he could last a little longer, knew he could give his friends what they needed before he collapsed in a heap on the floor. He watched as Benny jerked his cock in front of his face, watched the way his precum bubbled and spilled at the tip before being replaced with ropes and ropes of hot cum. If Benny was known for anything when it came to their little extracurriculars, it was certainly the ridiculous amount of spend he was able to produce.

"Right in the back of his fuckin' throat," he groaned, watching as it spurted into Frankie's open mouth, "Knew I had perfect aim." He redirected the head of his cock to further paint more of Frankie's face, covering him with thick white all over his cheeks and lips. "Don't swallow it, Fish," he managed to moan out, "Keep aaaall of it in there for me like the good boy you are."

A few more spurts along his neck and chest, one more in his mouth, and then Benny was tapping the head of his cock against Frankie's tongue again, watching as the last few drops spilled out onto it. Frankie peered up at him with heavy lids, a low moan emitting from the back of his throat.

"Yeah," Benny breathed, tapping his tongue again, "That's for you, s'all for you." He pulled his cock out and took a step back, nodding toward Santi, "Go ahead, man. I think he's spent."

"He'll be okay," Santi said softly, shuffling in front of Frankie again and pressing the sticky tip of his cock to the corner of his cum-filled mouth, "Huh, baby? Can you last a little longer? Just a few more minutes for me?" Frankie nodded and he smiled, "Open wide, baby boy."

"Come on, I don't want him to swallow it yet," Benny said a little exasperatedly as Santi slipped the head of his cock past Frankie's lips, the tiniest bit of Benny's cum dribbling from the left corner of his mouth.

"He won't swallow," Santi murmured, "He's just gonna get my dick a little wet." He looked up to share a knowing look with Benny, like a little secret between them, and Benny turned bright red.

At his words, Frankie swirled Benny's cum around the head of Santi's cock, coating it in the salty substance. He gazed up into Santi's eyes as he did it, almost like he was silently whispering to him, pleading; I'm ready now, I'm ready for you to give it to me.

"Okay, Francisco," Santi whispered, just for him, "Lo has hecho tan bien." You've done so well.

He pulled out of Frankie with a pornographic squelching sound and began to work Benny's cum and Frankie's saliva up and down the length of his cock, still staring directly into Frankie's deep brown eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip, brows furrowing as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge.

"Ask for it," he said quietly, edged with something unhinged.

"Please," Frankie breathed, voice garbled and muffled by the cum in his mouth and the ache in his throat, "Please come on me, Santi."

And that was enough.

"Mierda," Santi groaned out, stomach tensing as his thick cock twitched in his grasp. Frankie didn't close his eyes this time, kept them locked onto Santi's as cum drenched his face. It splashed along his cheek and nose in short bursts, dripped down his neck and collected in the corners of his mouth. Without being able to help it, he popped his mouth open one final time to allow Santi to add more cum to the cocktail on his tongue.

"Christ," Will muttered a few steps away, "Would ya look at that?"

"This," Benny sighed, a smile in his voice, "This is what we needed. Fuck Redfly, man."

In any other circumstance Santiago probably would have smacked Benny on the back of the head for disrespecting the team leader, but he was a little more than preoccupied at the moment. He was still staring down into Frankie's eyes, lost in a daze as Frankie tugged him back into his mouth with his tongue and sucked the last remaining spurt of cum from the tip of his cock.

"C'mere, watch him swallow," Santi gestured for the others to join him, and they all resumed their positions in front of Frankie with heavy lidded eyes as they watched him suck.

"Show us first," Benny murmured, "Come on, Fish, show us what's in your mouth, huh?"

Releasing Santi's cock with a pop, Frankie carefully opened his mouth to show his friends the pool of cum swirling on his tongue, dripping down into the soft pockets of his cheeks. Practically in awe, they all stared as he played with it, twisted his tongue back and forth and moving the thick globs of cum from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Swallow," Santi whispered, and Frankie obeyed.

It felt like heaven going down his throat, thick and warm. His eyes rolled a little, tongue darting behind his teeth to lick any that he'd missed, swallowing again and then dropping his jaw to show them his clean tongue, mouth empty.

"Good boy."

They stood there in silence for a moment, almost in reverence. Frankie was a mess, covered in three thick loads of spend and still on his knees with his cock bobbing against his stomach. He was so aroused it was almost painful, the head of his cock pulsing along with his heartbeat as he waited for an order, a command. He whined a little, waiting for someone to do something.

"Untie him," Santi finally told Benny with a smirk, "I think he's ready now."

Ready was an understatement. So much of an understatement in fact that Benny had barely brushed against Frankie's hands to untie the string when Frankie was suddenly letting out the loudest moan of the night, high and unbridled and full of pleasured desperation. Benny practically ripped the string from his hands to turn around and get a better look, watching with wide eyes as Frankie started to come with his cock completely untouched.

It was truly a sight to behold. His three friends stood frozen with their eyes glued to Frankie's cock as it bobbed and twitched of it's own accord, slapped repeatedly against his own stomach and dipped into his belly button. They watched as thick ropes of cum began to spill from his weeping tip, painting his stomach and chest, his chin, the floor. His balls shivered and tightened, more spurting out again and again as he writhed and shook on his knees, making the most pathetic little sounds as his eyes rolled.

Four loads now.

They were all in shock. They'd known he could do it, had felt him come in his pants untouched more than enough times at that point to know it was possible for him. But Christ, they'd never seen anything like it.

The room went silent as Frankie caught his breath, as he came down from his untouched orgasm and his loud outburst. They all watched as his cock continued to twitch with aftershocks, Benny letting out a soft groan when a little more cum dribbled from the tip. And then it was over.

More silence, save for Frankie's gasps and whimpers. And then Will took a step forward.

"Thank you, Fish," he told him earnestly, patting him on the shoulder and squeezing it gently, "That was... fuck. Thank you. You're fuckin' incredible."

Frankie looked up at him through fluttering lashes and nodded with a small smile, and then Will disappeared back to the bunks.

Benny was next. He got down on Frankie's level and came face to face with him, a grin on his face, "You're so pretty, Frank," he told him softly, "And you did so good. S'at what you needed?" Frankie nodded and Benny ruffled his hair a little bit, "Thanks, man. Thank you. We're gonna kill it tomorrow."

He followed his brother back to the bunks, leaving just Frankie and Santi alone together. Just like Benny had, Santi kneeled down to meet Frankie at eye level, picking up his cap along the way and carefully placing it on top of Frankie's head with a smile.

"Did I do good?" Frankie asked him softly, voice hoarse.

Santiago smiled even wider, pulled the cap down a bit further and murmured, "Si, Francisco. Perfecto."

A sleepy and sated grin lit up Frankie's cum-coated face. He could still feel everything, the thick layer of spend on his cheeks and chest, his slowly softening cock, the ache in his jaw - and he loved all of it. It felt right. So fucking right.

"Can you take a picture?" he suddenly asked, eyes alight, "Of me? Like this? I wanna... I wanna keep it. To remember it."

Santi's eyes softened even more, hand coming up to gently stroke Frankie's bare shoulder, "I can do that."

Santi grabbed the polaroid camera, held it front of his face and peered down at Frankie with a fond smile as his friend looked up at him softly, tiredly. "Show me those eyes, Francisco," he murmured, and Frankie halted the fluttering of his lashes to give the camera his ultimate fucked-out expression, a smile playing at his lips. The camera flashed and Santi pulled out the developed picture, waving it in the air as he settled back down in front of Frankie.

"Look at all this," he murmured softly, reaching up to gently thumb a bit of the cum on Frankie's face and scoop it carefully into his friend's mouth. Frankie sucked Santi's thumb with ease, sleepy and docile.

"S'yours," Frankie breathed when Santi pulled it back out.

Santi raised an eyebrow, "Mine?"

"What you just put in my mouth," Frankie clarified with a flush to his cheeks, "That was yours."

"You can tell?"

Frankie nodded with a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I can tell you all apart."

And if that wasn't the hottest thing Santiago had ever heard in his life.

Getting up from the floor was a bit of a task, but Santi helped him every step of the way. He lead Frankie to the showers where he let him lean against the wall, let him bask in the warmth of the hot water and the feeling of soap and shampoo as Santi worshipped him in a different way, a new way. Pressed kisses to his temples and his forehead, took his time lathering Frankie's arms and legs, gently cleaned his coated face and spent cock. And when he was done, Santi wrapped him in a towel and brought him back to his bunk, laid beside him and kissed him slow and deep until it felt like all that existed was just the two of them, nobody else.

He'd placed the polaroid in Frankie's bedside table and stroked his hair, murmured those familiar soft and gentle praises as he drifted to sleep.

Needless to say, their first mission was a success.

You're lying down with him now. It's well past midnight, moonlight streaming in through your bare-bones new bedroom as you peer at him quietly from under your lashes. He looks tired - he's been talking for over an hour now.

"There's more," he murmurs, eyes drooping, "More happened after that, a lot more, but I-"

"You've told me more than enough," you whisper, "You've been so honest, Frankie." Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek, your mouth turning up slightly at the corners when his eyes start to close, "Thank you for telling me about that."

He hums, breathes deeply as sleep slowly starts to find him. You can't help but stare at him, watch his face turn peaceful, the lines in the corners of his eyes smoothing out, his full lips relaxing into a natural frown. He's so beautiful. He's so.... good.

You think of him back then, the way he probably used to be. So unsure, so new to the real world and so close to facing things he'd never anticipated. You picture him lying in his bunk with Will above him, Santi and Benny beside him, Tom somewhere else, somewhere distant - it makes sense now. It all makes sense.

And now he's lying in his own bed, in his own house, years later - with you. You, the only thing you think has really made sense to him for a long time, the only thing that's helped him overcome some of life's worst obstacles, the pain and the trauma from the shit he's dealt with throughout his life.

But despite all of this, despite the past few years you've spent together, you suddenly can't help but wonder where he'd be right now if you hadn't met.

Would he be in Santiago's bed?

You slip out from under the blankets and grab your phone from your nightstand, making sure to turn out the light before heading to the kitchen. Your nostrils are met with the smell of fresh paint and leftover chow mein as you flick on the overhead and settle yourself on one of the stools at the kitchen island.

Unsure exactly why, you unlock your phone and scroll through your contacts, biting your lip as you search for Santiago's name. When you finally find it, you tap on it, feeling something odd sink in your heart when you see the lack of messages. You've never texted him? Not even once? You lean back and try to think of the last time you even had a conversation alone with him without Frankie or the others there, just a one-on-one interaction... and you come up blank.

He'd been such a huge part of Frankie's life. And still is now - still sees him on weekends, goes to games and bars, came over to the old apartment for drinks and dinner pretty regularly. He's been there for Frankie in ways you never could have imagined or guessed, took care of him and comforted him, would probably take a bullet for him - hell, he actually might've for all you know.

You look back down at your phone and stare at the blank space where words should be, feel that guilt from earlier rise in your chest and make a home in the form of a lump in your throat.

You start typing out a message.

[thebearer]

if you lie down, lie next to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: you and carmen are newly weds, moving into your forever home.

inspired by @carmybears fic assembly required which has been SO heavy on my mind lately mixed with lana del rey's "if you lie down, lie next to me" <3

contains: fluff. just fluff newly weds, alludes at smut, some language, but tooth rotting sweetness and fluff.

“Carmen, I’m not even kidding. Where the fuck did all of this stuff come from?” You groan, collapsing another cardboard box with a huff, shoving it into the pile with the others by the door. “Our apartment was, like, one-fifth the size of this one. The living room was like our whole apartment. How do we have this much shit?” 

Carmen snorted lightly, grinning and unpacking the various pots and pans. New pots and pans- wedding gifts.Your wedding came with an influx of appliances and cookware, gadgets for the kitchen that Carmen bubbled with excitement about. And a margarita maker- for you, of course- courtesy of Natalie Berzatto herself. The old apartment, you barely had space for the dishes and pots you had, let alone new ones. 

So Carmen kept them tucked away, until he got the new place for you. He didn’t have a clue at the time he’d be buying you the Brownstone you were in now, nestled in the heart of Old Town. A good neighborhood, close-ish to the restaurant, zoned in a good school district- a forever home, for the two of you. 

“I mean, most of it was wedding gifts.” Carmen shrugged. “The rest are your shoes.” He teased, a playful glint in his eye when he looked over at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha,” You said sarcastically, bumping him with your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m never doing this again. We’re here for life, Berzatto.” 

“That’s the plan, Berzatto.” Carmen nudged you back lightly, leaning to press a sweet kiss to your blushing cheeks, a loving squeeze to your ass when he passed you that left you squealing. 

“The good news is,” Carmen paused, sliding the pot onto the hanging rack over the island, stepping back to admire it. “The kitchen is unpacked.” 

“The most important room.” You hummed playfully. Carmen nodded in agreement, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

“Think we should celebrate?” Carmen grinned. “Christen it?” 

“We already christened it.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Twice- no, three times, already.” 

“Yeah but now it’s done.” Carmen countered. “No more boxes in the way.” 

“I think you can only christen something once.” You give him a pointed look, ignoring the way his crotch is rubbing against your hip. You were still sore from the celebratory round of “putting the coffee table together” from earlier. 

“And I’m starving. Should we order in again?” You hum, looking at the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of champagne and leftover takeout Chinese food. Your stomach turned at the thought. 

Carmen caught your grimace, a hand running soothingly down your back. “If you want. I can run to the store, too. Grab some things for dinner. Break in the kitchen now that it’s done.” 

“I think I like that idea better.” You nod, leaning against his chest, feeling his chain through his t-shirt- the same chain you had tucked between your teeth earlier. Your knees wobbled at the thought. “What are you making?” 

“What’re you in the mood for?” Carmen tilted his head back to look at you. “Can make you whatever, baby, just lemme know.” 

“I am down for anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” You giggle, nose snarling at the Chinese food. “Surprise me, Chef.” You grinned smugly, content at how Carmen’s cheeks flushed with heat. 

“You wanna come with me?” Carmen asked, reaching over to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter. 

You rolled your lips in thought. “I need to shower.” You blink at him sweetly. “I feel all sweaty and gross.” 

“Alright. Need anythin’ else, baby?” Carmen is looking for his phone, patting his pockets and turning in a semi-circle to look around him. 

You roll your eyes, plucking the phone off the coffee table in the living room, passing it to him. He was always losing his phone. You’d begged him to get an Apple watch but he swore it got in the way of his cooking, so you took to texting Nat or Richie- who always had their phones- when you needed him. 

“Something to drink? Unless you want champagne because I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there.” You giggle, looking at the fridge. 

Carmen smiled, pulling his hat over his tousled locks. “I got it.” He muttered, leaning to press a sweet, soft kiss to your lips, hands splaying over your hips, pulling you closer and closer into him. 

He always managed to make you swoon like that, cheeks rushing with heat, dizzy and light with love. You hoped you’d always feel like this. Even when you were old and wrinkly and wobbly, you hoped Carmen would still kiss you like that- in this very spot, in this very house. 

“Oh, Cass Elliot?” You grinned, spinning with the vinyl in your hands, brows raised playfully at Carmen. “He has taste.” 

Carmen snorted lightly in laughter, dishrag slung over his shoulder, spooning the sauce over the chicken in the pan. The kitchen was warm, smelling heavily of spices and a dash of citrus. You’d set up the vinyl in the corner by the nook, an old school record player passed down from Carmen’s grandmother. His Nonna Berzatto, who he adored. He had told you about how he’d always go over and help her make Sunday sauce. She had that same vinyl in her kitchen, next to a picture of her parents, and a prayer candle of Mary. It was all he managed to get, keep after she passed and his parents sold everything else that they could. He’d even snagged a few records, though the one you held looked new. 

“Yeah. Thought you liked her stuff?” Carmen muttered, eyes cutting to yours gently. 

“I do.” You grinned, slipping the record out of the protective paper. “How’d you know that?” You lifted the arm of the record player, slipping out the old disk and sliding in the new one, careful of the bouquet you’d just placed by it. Carmen had snagged one at the grocery earlier, surprising you with the beautiful bloom when you’d gotten out of the shower. 

“Because, you told me.” Carmen said simply, checking the asparagus inside the stove. Your heart fluttered. “When we were comin’ back from that trip… The, uh, the one we took to Detroit, remember? You played it on the way back.” 

Your chest soared, filling with that warmth that made your body tingle from head to toe. “You remembered that? That was… two years ago?” 

“Of course I remembered that.” Carmen scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you like he couldn’t believe you’d say something so ridiculous. “You said that, uh, that one song was like the love song to you. So I-I started listening to it because… ya know, it reminded me of you and stuff.” Carmen muttered, cheeks heating at the omission. 

You beamed, lifting the long arm of the record player, letting it softly come to life with a scratch of static before the slow melody filled the room. “You’re sweet.” You hum, arms wrapping around his torso, swaying gently to the familiar medley. “Never would’ve guessed you woulda been this sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m given’ off asshole vibes?” Carmen laughed, hips turning slightly to face you. 

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “Gave off recluse vibes.” 

“Recluse?” Carmen turned to you. 

“Yeah, like… quiet, shy boy vibes.” You giggle. “You barely spoke to me when I started… and you hired me!” 

“I thought you were pretty.” Carmen shrugged boyishly. “And I thought if I talked to you, I’d throw up or embarrass myself. Also thought there was no way you’d be single. Too pretty and funny and… I dunno, thought you’d never go out with me.” 

“Little did you know.” You grinned wickedly. “I had been stalking you in secret.” Carmen laughed at you. “I thought you were pretty, too.” 

Carmen blushed at your omission, lips twitching in a smile. You swayed lightly, cheek pressed to his chest, letting the soft melody lull you. You remembered the car ride back from Detroit. Carmen was going to some chef expo there, trying to network and get Sydney the star she deserved. You’d agreed to go along. Things were far enough along it was stable, but still new and exciting. Your first real trip as a couple. You’d stayed in a hotel, gone to Carmen’s colleague’s fancy restaurant, went sightseeing and shopping hand-in-hand. You couldn’t help feeling so romantic, shuffling songs from the playlist you listened to when you were getting ready for a date. Old school tracks, filled with symphonies and ballads of love. 

“I think this is almost done. D’you want to grab the glasses and I’ll-” 

“-Let it sit for a minute.” You sigh contently, turning down the heat on the stove top. 

“What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffs in laughter, turning while you pull at him, your hand lacing through his own, tugging him to the open space on the other side of the kitchen island. 

You just smile at him, pulling him close to you. Your hand in his, the other wrapped around and settled on his spine. His free hand followed, sliding down your back. You leaned towards him, chin tilted towards his face, his curls tickling your forehead. You swayed slowly, nothing elaborate or coordinated, just a soft shuffle type sway, Carmen pulled close to you. 

“‘M not good at this.” Carmen’s breath hitched, hand squeezing yours, his thumb gliding over your wedding rings. 

“Yeah, you are.” You hum, nose brushing his. “Best dancer I’ve ever seen.” You mutter, your lips slotting over his sweetly. Carmen’s hand left yours, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer, his lips soft against your own. Your head found his shoulder, dipping into his collarbone, arms wrapped around his torso while he rocked you gently. The sound of Cass Elliot’s voice humming out of the record player Baby, I’m Yours fading into Words of Love. The fan from the stove still buzzing with life, wafting out the steam from the pans, rhythmically merging with the sounds from the street. A relatively quiet neighborhood, filled with quiet cars and the occasional children’s screech from their strollers that pushed by. It was all so calming, the sound of your new home. Sounds you hoped would become familiar overtime and still shared with Carmen.

[rosenclaws]

Nightmares || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: Logan has a nightmare and finds comfort his his new child.

warnings: fluff, comfort, his child is adopted

Part if the Moonlight series (coming soon lol)

a/n: So i did things a little backwards. This should have been a oneshot after the og story of them finding the baby but I got this idea in my head and I couldn’t shake it so you’re getting some things out of order. You don’t need any context other than shes a baby and adopted tbh. Her name is Diana and i did take that from league of legends

Logan shoots up, chest pounding as a nightmare lingers in his head. He doesn't remember what this one was about. Probably just like all the other ones. His dead friends, the blood on his hands. Something along those lines.

He feels you stir next to him and freezes. You've been absolutely exhausted the last couple of weeks with the baby so the last thing he wants for you is to wake up because of him. He gently rubs your back, watching you relax under his touch until you're back to a nice deep sleep.

Loud cries start to come from the next room. His brows furrow as he pulls off the sheets.

Worry building in his chest as he hurries to the next room. Is something wrong? Is she sick? Hurt? He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her in her bed. He places his hand on her forehead to check for a fever. No sign of sickness which is good but he's hyper aware as he checks her over.

"Hey there kid, what's with all the crying?" The crying starts to subside the moment she lays eyes on Logan.

He shushes her gently. Picking her up from her crib and holding her in his arms. He walks around in circles, gently bouncing her in his arms.

She's wearing some stupid onesie that Wade bought her. Red to match his suit. Stuffed animals sit perfectly in her crib but she clutches hard to one in particular. A damn wolverine plushie that you had searched forever for. He rolled his eyes at the idea but the moment Diana saw that stupid plush she squealed with happiness. Now it's her best friend.

"See no tears, no reason for tears. I'm here." He wipes away the stray tears from her chubby little cheeks.

He moves to put her back in bed but her faces scrunches up like she's going to cry again so he keeps her in his arms. He slowly sinks into the rocking chair sat next to her bed. Cradling her as he slowly rocks back and forth. The chair creaks beneath his weight and he makes a note to get a stronger chair.

"You hungry?" He tries to feed her the bottle you keep for emergencies but she won't budge. She doesn't need a diaper change so he has no clue why she woke up this time.

“Did you have a nightmare?" He asks softly as she grabs onto his finger. Looking up at him with big glassy eyes.

"That's okay, I get them too." She babbles nonsense in response.

Sometimes Logan wonders what she dreams about. Does she have memories of her parents? Does she ever miss them? Can she even miss them? She's just a baby. A poor, innocent child who was left for dead. The idea makes his blood boil. How could you just leave a child like that?

They're born into this world helpless and the people who were supposed to protect them left because their child happened to be born a mutant. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. He was upsetting her, like she could sense his anger.

"Sorry kid, didn't mean to make you sad." She puts his finger in her mouth, sucking on it like a binky.

"Having fun there?" She gurgles and he takes that as a yes.

She shows no sign of being tired which is bad news for him and you. You just got her on a good sleep schedule and now it might get ruined.

"I know how scary nightmares can be." He brushes her little cheek and she giggles.

"But I promise they can't hurt you. I won't let anything hurt you." Her eyes start to flutter shut, the grip on his finger loosen as she listens to him talk. He moves her so that her head is resting on his chest. His hand rubbing up and down her back. She yawns and snuggles closer to him.

"Back to sleep kiddo, there we go."

"Logan?" Your sleepy voice calls from the door. You rub your eyes as you take in the view of Logan holding Diana in his arms.

"Nightmare.” He says looking at you. You walk over and gently rub his arm.

“You or her?” He doesn’t answer. You stay with them for a while. She’s fast asleep by now but she looks so comfortable in Logan’s arms that you can’t even think of separating the two.

“Do you want to talk about it?” No. He doesn’t. He’d rather focus on the good in his life than remember the past. In fact holding Diana puts him at peace. Quieting his mind in ways normally only you can.

“Maybe she’s good for more than just throwing up and making a mess.” Logan jokes and you lightly hit his arm.

“Shut up you love her.” He stares at her sleeping face.

She’s looks so peaceful. He does love her. So much. So much that it scares him. What if she grows up and thinks he’s a monster? What if he fucks up somewhere and ruins his perfect girls life? As far as he’s concerned everything he touches gets ruined. He still wakes up in disbelief that you’re by his side everyday.

“Okay Princess, we need to get you back to bed.” You try and take her our of his arms but he pulls back.

“No.” He holds her protectively to his chest. A flash of anger in his eyes fades as soon as it comes.

“I’m sorry. I. I just need a little longer.” He feels guilty for snapping but you understand.

You sit on the floor and rest your head on his lap. He doesn’t even try to tell you to go back to bed because he knows you won’t listen. So he sits back and watches his girl for a little longer.

His perfect family.

[jjunieworld]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ TXT AS MITSKI LYRICS ‎⸝⸝⸝

pairing: txt x gn!reader genre: scenerios/headcannons, fluff, angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, lovers to exes, fwb to lovers (suggestive), childhood friends to ??? word count: 500-700 for each member author’s note: i’ve been listening to mitski a lot and this idea randomly popped in my head! it’s not completely based off the meanings of the songs!! i feel like these would be fun to write full fics for. if you listen to mitski, what’s your favorite song?? mine is once more to see you and last words of a shooting star!!! (｡´‿`｡) all feed back and reblogs are welcome! enjoy!! ♡ ⇢ ( continue on to . . . masterlist or request rules )

𓍼 ˋ✮ YEONJUN

brand new city - mitski 𓍯 “but if i gave up on being pretty, i wouldn’t know how to be alive. i should move to a brand new city and teach myself how to die.”

yeonjun couldn’t understand it. he simply couldn’t understand what was making you feel this way. what was making you feel so insecure. the two of you sat on the bed in your shared bedroom, you with tears streaming down your face and the saddest expression on your face that absolutely broke yeonjun’s heart into pieces.

he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, scared that if he let go you’d completely shatter, with your head buried in his chest. you pulled away so you could sniffle and so your already hard to hear voice wouldn’t be even more muffled. “i just… i just feel like i’m not good enough,” you said through choked sobs. “not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough. and i feel like nothing that i do to prove that i am pretty, that i am smart, that i am good enough is enough.”

you furiously wiped your tears and stared hard at the comforter of your bed. “everywhere i look, there’s someone better than me. and if i’m not good enough, not pretty, then what am i? what purpose do i serve?” yeonjun could feel his own tears well up in his eyes at your words. at the fact that you even think this way. he cupped your face gently so that you looked at him through glassy tears.

“you’re not here to serve a purpose. you’re not here to be pretty enough for someone, or smart enough for someone, or even good enough for someone. you’re here to simply be, that is all.” yeonjun wiped the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs. “and you are pretty enough, and smart enough, and good enough, but none of that matters if you’re measuring yourself on the opinions of someone else.”

nodding, you took in his words, a hiccup escaping your mouth. yeonjun continued, “the people who you see somewhere who you think are better than you? they’re thinking the same exact thing about you. all that matters is how you feel about you, if you feel like you’re enough for you. not for someone you’ve never met, not for me, for you.”

yeonjun kissed your forehead and looked at you in the eyes through furrowed brows to make sure his words were getting across to you. you gave him a small smile before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. pulling away giggling, you apologized for the salty kiss, for which yeonjun just laughed. “i’ll take a million salty kisses if it means you get out of this mindset,” yeonjun said.

you buried your face in his chest again, no doubt getting his shirt all wet. “thank you, jjunie,” you replied, voice muffled. yeonjun rubbed circles into your back, “there’s no need to thank me. what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t try and help you?”

𓍼 ˋ✮ SOOBIN

francis forever - mitski 𓍯 “and autumn comes when you’re not yet done with the summer passing by, but i don’t think i can stand to be where you don’t see me.”

it was a warm summer day when you and soobin stopped being a couple. you were on a walk on a tree-lined street—now that you looked back on it, it was such a normal day. how could you see the forming cracks in your relationship when the sun was shining so brightly outside?

you’ll never forget the words soobin said that changed everything. “y/n, when are we going to stop pretending?” soobin had asked, breaking the silence that filled the space between the two of you. at first, you were confused about what he meant, and you expressed such. “when are we going to stop pretending like we aren’t in two different places?” soobin had then guided you to a bench to talk. there, the two of you had broken up. that was the last time you saw him.

it was autumn now and the multicolor leaves swayed to the will of the wind. you were sitting on that same bench that you were four months ago, on that same tree-lined street, only now not as naive. you were so stupid for letting such a good thing slip between your fingers.

you couldn’t help but think about the good times in your relationship with soobin despite the way it ended. your walks, how you would take them when the two of you needed to be alone with your thoughts but still wanted to be with each other. how soobin would never let either of you go to sleep angry at one another, even if in the moment it pissed you off. how whenever either of you had a bad day, words didn’t even need to be said. all that was needed was comforting looks and gentle and soothing touches.

now you stared up at the gaps of sunlight coming down through the multicolor leaves, cold and alone. four months ago, you decided to mutually breakup to grow alone before you both grew together. but now, you realized just how stupid that was. why couldn’t the two of you have grown together—find yourselves together? why did you have to do it alone for it to be so significant? wasn’t the point of being in a relationship growing together?

just when you were about to think about how much you missed soobin, you heard a familiar voice come from your side. “y/n?” the voice asked hesitantly, and you wanted to thank your lucky stars for this moment. you turned just as soobin came more into your vision. a warm smile lit up your face, “soobin, hi! it’s been a while…” you almost cringed at how awkward that sentence was and how unnatural it felt.

soobin was never one to get to the point, but you could sense a quiet determination in him as he nodded and sat on the bench near you. “i know, and i just want to say that i’m sorry,” soobin started. you gave him a confused look as you waited for him to continue. “and i just want to say how stupid i am to think that even though at the time we were in different places, that we couldn’t make our way towards each other together. i was so stupid for even starting the conversation and i’m sorry that it took four months for me to realize that.”

the smile on your face grew and in turn, it caused a nervous smile to grow on soobin’s. “what?” he then asked. you laughed a little, “you know, i was literally just thinking the exact same thing!” you scooted closer to him and took his hands in yours like it hasn’t been months since you last saw him face to face, last touched him. “i missed you, soobin,” you said quietly.

“i missed you too, y/n,” soobin replied. “let’s grow together, yeah?” you giggled and nodded. soobin came just centimeters from your lips before stopping in a silent question and your smile grew as you closed the gap. you didn’t want to be where soobin wasn’t, there wasn’t any point in it. the last four months showed you that. as long as you were with him, growing with him, you’d always find your way back to each other.

𓍼 ˋ✮ BEOMGYU

goodbye, my danish sweetheart - mitski 𓍯 “maybe when you tell your friends, you can tell them what you saw in me and not how i turned out to be.”

to say you and beomgyu were on the rocks was an understatement. you both were hanging off a cliff by the tips of your fingers with a raging ocean underfoot. it was surprising to the both of you how you managed to get here after three years of dating. one moment everything between you two was perfect—sunshine and rainbows and crystal clear skies.

then the dark, stormy clouds started to form slowly until it snuffed out the sunlight. until you couldn’t see the rainbows anymore. and it didn’t just rain, it poured—hailed even. as the two of you stand in front of each other, red in the face and screaming, you both wondered—how.

“who are you?” beomgyu asked you, brows knitted together. he stared at you as if he was finally seeing clearly for the first time in his life. “because it’s like you’re a complete stranger now…” you scoffed as even more anger filled you to the brim. at this point, you didn’t even know what the two of you were arguing about.

it seemed like anything set the two of you off these days. yesterday, the two of you argued over a blanket. someone had folded it and placed it in the wrong place. that argument ended up with the two of you screaming at each other and sleeping in different rooms. you couldn’t remember the last time you and beomgyu slept in the same bed.

“who am i?” you asked him incredulously. “who are you?” scoffing again, you turned your back to beomgyu and tried to unclench your tightened fists at your side. twirling back around, you started, “if anyone is the stranger, it’s you. tell me, beom—“

“do you love me?” beomgyu cut you off. your mouth closed and you took a small step back in shock, eyebrows raised. you stared at him for a brief second as you tried to process what he just said. “o-of course!” you stammered out, your eyebrows now furrowing. “of course i do! what kind of question is that?” you added. it felt like ice cold water had just been poured over you, suddenly melting away all the anger.

beomgyu gave a defeated sigh as he slumped down onto the couch. he rubbed at his temples and closed his eyes. “not the way you use to,” he spoke, now looking up at you. “you love me out of obligation now. because you don’t want three years to have gone down the drain. you love me because it’s necessary, not because you actually love me.”

you took timid steps towards the couch. “that’s not true…” you trailed. despite your running thoughts, you didn’t know what else to say to him. of course you loved him, he was the love of your life, your everything. this was just a rough patch that all couples have and you would get through it, wouldn’t you? “you’re the love of my life, beomgyu. my everything,” you echoed your thoughts.

“was,” beomgyu responded. you flocked to him as tears formed in your eyes. you went to cup his face but he just turned away from you. “but despite everything, you’re still mine,” beomgyu spoke as he looked you in the eyes. “we can’t keep going on like this—arguing everyday about nothing. one of us has to end it. so i’m ending it.” he stood up, leaving you on the couch in tears.

𓍼 ˋ✮ TAEHYUN

a loving feeling - mitski 𓍯 “holding hands under a table. meeting up in your bedroom. making love to other people. telling each other it’s all good.”

taehyun wanted you, and he wanted you bad. in a way, he already had you. just not fully—not in the way he truly wanted you. and don’t get him wrong, he enjoyed having you under him, but after that moment passed and you both cleaned up to leave, that was it. he wanted more.

he was fine with just hooking up with you here and there, being your date when you didn’t have one and holding your hand under the table hoping you would get his message. but you didn’t. it wasn’t part of the unspoken agreement you both came up with. the intimate relationship the two of you had was strictly physical, not romantic.

“sorry for ending things so abruptly,” you spoke as taehyun helped tie the opening your shirt had, “i kinda forgot that i’m suppose to meet this guy i met online for a date.” taehyun’s eyebrows raised slightly, which you could see with the mirror in front of you. his eyes met yours, “date?”

you smiled slightly, nodding. “yup,” you replied, turning to him as he finished tying your shirt. “pretty nice guy so far. why, you jealous?” you teased him. taehyun smirked, “we both know nobody else can compare to me. why would i be jealous?” your pretty laugh filled his ears as you moved to put on your shoes.

taehyun’s heart dropped slightly at your reveal. he desperately wished that it was him you were preparing to go on a date with. instead, he had to watch as you got ready for a date with someone else. watch as you slipped out the door and into the arms of another. it felt like the two of you were going in circles.

“i just don’t get it? why do they all act the same?” you sulked on taehyun’s shoulder, drunk out of your mind. you had called taehyun after you had broken up with your recent boyfriend, needing a shoulder to cry on. of course he obliged, what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t? you stared up at him with big glassy doe eyes as your speech slurred, but he heard you perfectly, “none of them are you. why don’t you feel the same about me, taehyun?”

taehyun’s eyes widened as you turned to take another shot. he put it to the back of his mind for now, determined to get you home safely. a couple days later he came to you with your admission and you froze in fear. “o-oh…” you mumbled, looking down. “i didn’t—i’m sorry if y—“ you didn’t get a chance to sputter out any more words before taehyun’s lips were on yours, a kiss full of passion and wanting connecting you. “i do feel the same about you,” taehyun smiled as he pulled away, holding you in his arms. “i have all this time.”

𓍼 ˋ✮ HUENINGKAI

two slow dancers - mitski 𓍯 “but we’re two slow dancers, last ones out. we’re two slow dancers, last ones out.”

the first time you met kai was at your middle school dance. your “date” had left you to go dance with your friend, leaving you heartbroken in the middle of the gymnasium floor. he had swept in like your knight in shining armor asking if you wanted to dance and saving you from embarrassment. as the two of you slow danced together, that’s when your love for him had first started to bud.

unfortunately, the two of you never progressed past that moment. kai had moved away shortly after and through the grapevine you heard that the dance was a makeshift goodbye party with his friends. you heart was broken, but eventually you moved past it and middle school.

the second time you and kai met was on your college campus. it turns out you two were actually going to the same place. you feelings for him had always lingered inside you and seeing him in person again ignited those feelings. the two of you had gotten close. your feelings for him suddenly bloomed rapidly, and right when you were gonna take the leap and ask him out, he told you about this girl he was talking to.

“we’re a lot alike,” kai had blushed, turning the textbook page the both of you were studying. “i just can’t believe she actually likes me back!” you had begun to distance yourself from him for your own sanity, not that he noticed. he was a man newly in love and you didn’t want to do anything to disturb that. again, you moved past it and eventually college.

you didn’t meet kai again until years later down the line. you were older now, wiser and all that. you barely thought about the boy who once plagued your mind—not outside the occasional ‘what if.’ by pure chance, you accidentally collided with him miles away from your middle school and college.

“i’m so so sorry, oh my gosh!” you frantically exclaimed as you ran to the nearest table to grab napkins. as you pressed it to the huge coffee stain on a pure white shirt, you finally looked up and came face to face with your first love. your eyes widened and you choked on your words. from the looks of it, kai did too. “y-y/n!” kai exclaimed. “it’s been so long! how have you been? oh—and don’t worry about the stain, i’ll just get another shirt!”

the two of you sat in that cafe for what seemed like hours as you caught up with each other. you asked each other various questions, such as ‘where has life been taking you?’ and ‘are you taken? any special person waiting for you at home?’ it turns out you were both single. you felt that familiar blooming at your chest and as the night progressed. you were determined not to let him slip from your fingers again.

“you know, i use to have a thing for you,” you mentioned as the topic of your college days was brought up. kai laughed softly, his voice teasing, “use to?” you shot him a playful smile back. “i use to have a thing for you too,” he added quietly. your smile turned genuine as it widened. “still do… always will,” you trailed as you took a sip from your mug, you glanced up at him bravely.

“so then what are we waiting for?” he asked you, his features lighting up with a smile causing one of your own. you sat your mug down and gave a playful shrug, “i don’t know—ball’s in your court.”

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

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[megalony]

He's Protective

Here is my newest Dark! Evan Buckley imagine, requested by anon and I absolutely fell in love with this idea.

I hope you will all like it, feedback always makes my day.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Evan has been in love with Eddie's girlfriend for what feels like forever. And when she and Eddie break up, Evan seizes his chance to make her his. And he will use whatever method he can to have her.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip as she leaned her head to the left and rested her cheek against her forearm that was slumped across the bar. Her eyes narrowed as she stared into the empty glass in front of her as if it would magically refill itself with another damning cocktail that tasted just like juice.

The good thing about these cocktails was that (Y/n) was already feeling the alcohol fizzling in her veins. She was on the verge of being drunk and she knew it, but that was okay. That was what she wanted.

A tepid smile formed on her lips when the bartender slid another drink over to her.

(Y/n) liked the shape of these glasses. They were round at the bottom, sucked in towards the middle and had an oval top like someone trying to suck in their stomach and show off their hips. The glass was a large one too, more alcohol hidden within.

The mustard yellow drink had swirls of orange and a flicker of crimson streaking through the middle, which would be from the cranberry juice. There were two strawberries on the edge with a stake driven through them and they made (Y/n)'s smile splinter into a sorrowful grimace.

Those strawberries resembled her heart.

Pierced. Driven through with a spike, leaving a hollow gap that didn't feel like it was going to get any better.

(Y/n) picked up the cocktail stick and tepidly ate the pieces of fruit before she began circling her finger around the glass to collect each crumb of sugar decorating the rim.

"I thought it was you."

A gasp burned at the back of her throat and she sat bolt upright on the bar stool that suddenly felt like it was hundreds of feet above the floor. When she wobbled backwards, a large, firm hand pressed into the base of her back and held her balance for her like she weighed nothing at all.

No words left (Y/n)'s lips when she looked up.

It was Evan.

He looked different to how he normally did when she saw him. (Y/n) was so used to seeing him in his work uniform or in jumpers which he liked to pull down over his hands. A few times she had even seen him in his gym gear consisting of shorts and a vest top that was either too big or too small, depending on which one he wore.

Tonight though, he was wearing a pair of black trousers that seemed to be new because they were straight as rulers and only had creases around the knees and the waist.

The shirt Evan wore was striking. A button-up, starched white shirt that had the first three buttons undone, showing off his neck, collar bone and the start of his smooth chest and the outline of his sternum. The sleeves stopped two inches after his shoulders and they looked like they were cutting into his biceps.

His hair was unruly tonight, not the usual soft-brushed waves with added gel. Each curl was wild and free, sparking off in all directions around his head and temple, and (Y/n) noticed he no longer had sideburns cut into his style. They had been shaved off. It made him look youthful yet somehow aged at the same time, making it very hard for anyone to determine his actual age.

"Hi, Buck." (Y/n) breathed through the words and let her eyes follow him as he perched down on the free seat next to her.

Sitting side by side showed how tall Evan was, because he slouched forward and still looked like he would tower over her. The smile on his face was charming and the way he tapped his finger against the condensation on his glass made a rhythmic sound that (Y/n) found herself concentrating on in her drunken state.

"Don't I always tell you to call me Evan?" His voice was melodic and the way he inclined his head to look at her made (Y/n)'s stomach pool with adrenaline. He looked sweet, charming. If she didn't know any better, she would say he was drunk with that charming smile, but something told her he wasn't as drunk as her. Not yet, anyway.

"No one else does."

"Hm, but you can." It was the same words he always said to her, but he said them with that one-sided smirk that made (Y/n) shiver.

He was always the flirt. It was their dynamic. Evan flirted with (Y/n) and broke any tension in any situation with a joke. He was cheeky enough to make (Y/n) feel at ease around him when with anyone else, she would be unsettled.

"You okay?" His eyes narrowed on her and his smirk faded into a smile when he looked her up and down.

Evan wasn't sure he'd seen (Y/n) drunk before. They'd never been out together or as a group and had drinks, he'd only seen her have one drink out of politeness at the garden party a few months ago.

He could feel his lungs seizing up in his chest, and he couldn't stop himself from gliding his tongue across his lips when he took in what she was wearing.

Her shirt had thin spaghetti straps on her shoulders, one of which was sliding halfway down her arm, exposing her strapless bra to his prying eyes. The blouse had a V-neckline that cut right down to her cleavage and when she leaned forward into the bar, Evan got a good view of something he had imagined for the last five or six months.

When he glanced down, he sucked in a deeper breath and hid his mouth behind his hand. She had to be somewhat drunk because she hadn't noticed her skirt had scrunched up around her thighs. If Evan just tilted back at an angle, he might get a view of her underwear. If he laid his hand on her exposed thigh he would get more than he bargained for.

Luck really was on his side, bringing him to the same bar that (Y/n) was in on a night where she was looking beautifully seductive without having to try.

"(Y/n), you good?"

"I'm okay," Her voice came out quiet and weak and (Y/n) internally cringed at her tone. Why did she sound so childish? It was clear she wasn't okay. She knew she looked less than her best and the amount of drinks she had taken tonight gave away she wasn't having the best of times, here by herself.

She reached out for her glass and chugged back the cocktail in one which made a grin slide across Evan's face. He leaned back, impressed, placing one elbow on the bar while his hand scraped along his jaw in thought and his other hand pushed his beer bottle away from him.

He cast his hand out towards the bartender and casually twisted his beer bottle around to face the barman. He didn't want (Y/n) to see that he had been on the non-alcoholic beer tonight. If she wanted to get drunk, he would gladly supervise without making her feel uncomfortable if she knew he wasn't drinking too.

"Another round, and keep 'em coming." Evan waved his hand towards their drinks and dipped his head in thanks when the barman nodded.

He tilted back in (Y/n)'s direction, watching with fascination in his eyes as she propped her elbows up on the bar and dragged her hands along her neck. God, she was making it hard for him to stay in control, and she had no idea she was having any affect on him at all.

"So, what's going on? Or do you usually drink alone in bars?" Something told Evan she didn't.

He knew her. He knew her better than she would ever realise, and Evan knew this wasn't (Y/n)'s style. She didn't like going out alone or being in her own company when out in public. She was the nervous type who liked company and Evan could see she was relieved he was sitting with her now.

And if she was here, alone, without Eddie, then something must have happened between them. An argument. A falling out. Whatever it was, it meant Evan could get closer to the one girl he had fallen hard for, but who was just out of his reach.

When their drinks arrived, Evan clinked his bottle against her glass before taking a few swigs.

(Y/n) tried to pace herself and only drink half her glass instead of throwing the whole drink back in one. She didn't want to embarrass herself or push away the only company she had found all night. Her finger moved to swirl around the rim of her glass and she slowly collected the tiny cubes of sugar before she bit down on her finger and let the sugar dissolve on her tongue.

"Bad night… uh, me and Eddie, we… we broke up." (Y/n) dragged her fingers through her tousled hair and chuckled at the end of her words as if she had just told him a crappy joke.

Evan raised his brows in surprise but hid his mouth behind his hand so a smile didn't accidentally break out on his face.

What luck!

Was there a God out there listening and answering Evan's prayers?

The girl he had fallen hard for had been his best friend's girlfriend. There was no way Evan could do anything without ruining his friendship and pushing away the only girl he ever wanted.

All Evan could do was flirt with (Y/n) and test the boundaries to see how close he could get without breaking any rules or putting too much pressure on her. He didn't want her to tell Eddie how he flirted with her. When in public, the flirting was harmless, it was little jokes. But in small corners, he would whisper whatever he wanted in her ear to see her smile and blush and shy away from him in that cute way she did.

"Damn. Can uh, can I ask what happened?" If she didn't want to tell him then that was fine. He would find out from Eddie at some point anyway. But Evan was more interested in (Y/n)'s side of things and how she was feeling about this.

He found himself inching closer while a sarcastic laugh tumbled past her lips which only drew him in further.

"He 'doesn't want to hurt me'." Her hands moved to add air- quotations while her smile turned sour and she took another gulp of her drink that tasted more of vodka than juice this time around.

"What would he do to hurt you?"

(Y/n) leaned her head on her right hand while her other hand began tapping away along the bar. She stretched her leg out, but when her heel accidentally caught Evan's leg, she retracted. Until he hooked his ankle behind hers and started jostling her leg up and down. He was trying to lighten the mood. Trying to make her feel better. And it made her smile.

"He's met someone. Some floosy who looks just like Shannon, if you can believe it." Her eyes rolled and she gave Evan's leg a little nudge. "He can't stop thinking about her, and he's been hanging around with her. He doesn't look like he's gonna stop hanging around her, so he broke things off."

(Y/n) was happy, in a way. She was glad Eddie came clean before things went too far with this other woman. She was glad he could acknowledge that he was so intrigued by her because of her resemblance. And (Y/n) was happy that Eddie was breaking things off now, before he stepped over the line and did anything to hurt all of them.

But she was pissed.

How dare he think it was okay to hang around a doppleganger, go around town with her and then break things off with (Y/n) in order to continue being with this other woman. How did he think this was going to end? What did he think would happen when they got serious and this Kim eventually saw the pictures of Shannon in his home? How would Chris react if he ever saw her?

Eddie wasn't thinking this through, but if he wanted to do this then (Y/n) was glad to leave him. She was glad they were breaking up if he was going to act this way. That didn't stop her heart from reaching out for him, or the tears from falling down her face.

"Jesus, look at me." She laughed miserably and swiped her hands beneath her eyes to rid the tears before they made a mess of her features. She had done so well not to cry all night, she wasn't going to break now.

"I am. I like what I see; always have."

Evan's hand found her thigh and (Y/n) paused, darting her eyes between his bright ruby lips and his hand where his thumb was skitting across her bare thigh like it had always belonged there.

"Charmer."

"Hm." Evan stretched and downed his beer before he waved across for another round of drinks. "So, you came to drown your sorrows?"

"He ended it, so I thought, fuck him I'll go for a drink or ten, or twenty."

Her smile made Evan's heart swell and he couldn't resist inching to the edge of his chair so he was that much closer to her. And he couldn't stop the raging thoughts in his mind that wished those two little words- fuck him- said in that sultry tone, were said about him and implied in that way.

Evan dreamt of (Y/n). He thought of her. He drowned his sorrows on too many occasions when he thought about how the girl of his dreams was shacked up with his best friend and Evan couldn't do anything about it.

Well, now he could. She was here, she was single, she was looking at him with those eyes, and Evan would treat her so much better than Eddie. He wouldn't look at another woman, let alone go out with them behind (Y/n)'s back. He wouldn't entertain anyone else but her. She was the one for him and if he could just show her that, then they could be happy together. Eddie be damned.

"It won't end well. Someone who looks like Shannon, what's he expect to happen? And there's Chris to think about, he won't go through with it. He'll regret losing you soon."

"Thank you. Someone gets it… I think he knows it's wrong, but he's made up his mind and I won't try and change it."

No matter how hard (Y/n) had fallen for Eddie or how much she thought she loved him, it was done. He had made his choice and (Y/n) wasn't going to try and persuade him otherwise. He was a grown man and he could make whatever mistakes he chose. And (Y/n) had enough self-respect that if Eddie realised his mistake and wanted to try again, (Y/n) would say no.

She wouldn't let herself down by going back to someone who left her for a chance at something with a ghost of the past. She wouldn't be Eddie's rebound or have him crawl back to her when everything went wrong and blew up in his face.

They were done and (Y/n) was going to come to terms with it, hopefully sooner rather than later.

"That's his loss, pity the fool who lets you go. If you were mine, I'd never look at anyone else." He took the fresh bottle placed in front of him while (Y/n) aimed straight for the strawberries floating neatly on top of her drink.

He loved the way her eyes never left his as he spoke, though. He loved those blown pupils burrowing into his mind, and those plump lips parting and enveloping around the fruit in her hand. He loved her lashes, fluttering and blinking like she was trying to send him a secret message he had to decode.

(Y/n) could feel tears of a different kind welling up in her eyes when she looked across at Evan. The strawberry clasped between her teeth didn't taste half as sweet as the words falling from Evan's tongue.

"Your girl's a lucky one. Where do I find a guy like you?" Her voice shuddered and she took a swig of her drink that suddenly tasted bittersweet compared to Evan's words.

But she found her breath catching in her throat when Evan balanced his feet on the step of his stool and leaned across the small gap of space between them. Part of her felt like she should inch back, create some room between them, but this wasn't just any old stranger in a bar.

This was Evan. This was the guy who flirted with her any chance he got, the guy who put everyone before himself and was the sweetest person by all accounts at the station. This was the guy every girl wanted to have on their arm, and he was looking at (Y/n) like she was the only one in this bar- this whole city- worthy of a second glance.

"Right in front of you, sweetheart."

The sugar coating (Y/n)'s lips transferred onto Evan's lips and he couldn't help but dart his tongue out to lick the remnants from her lips. His tongue darted between her lips and battled with hers, feeling drunk off the vodka on her tongue and the citrus zest in her mouth.

All the air evaporated from (Y/n)'s lungs as she let Evan's hand cup her jaw and tilt her head back, giving him better access to her mouth that he was exploring like it was the seventh wonder of the world.

She could feel his thumb tracing the edge of her jaw and his fingers were pressing into the side of her neck making her pulse jump beneath his touch.

Her fingers started to jump and tap in anticipation and confusion and bewilderment. He was kissing her. He was clinging to her, with his free hand now on her hip. And when their lips finally parted and she gasped for air with stars in front of her eyes, (Y/n) realised Evan had stood up from the stool and was now stood right between her legs.

He had parted her thighs to fit between them just like he had always belonged there and in doing so, he had pushed her shirt further back on her thighs, barely covering her modesty. Not that he seemed to care at all, with his free hand clamped down on her hip like he was preventing her from moving an inch away from him.

She could feel Evan panting into her mouth, their lips still practically touching, even if they were now gasping for air. The end of his nose nudged against hers and his lips curved into a wide smirk that had butterflies floating all throughout (Y/n)'s abdomen and up into her chest.

"Wanna come back to mine?" As he spoke, Evan slithered his hand from her hip to circle around her waist.

He loved the gasp she elicited which he swallowed up in another kiss when he tugged her to the very edge of her seat until she was practically sat on his hips and her legs automatically hooked around the back of his.

"God, yes." She panted against his lips while her hands moved to grip his shirt tight enough that she was almost popping the buttons undone. She clung to him to keep her balance and her sanity, which was teetering on the edge, about to drop off into oblivion.

He couldn't kiss her like that and expect her not to say yes to that question. She would go anywhere with him, all he had to do was ask, well, he probably didn't have to ask at this rate.

Evan's lips morphed into a smile as he sucked (Y/n)'s lower lip between his teeth like it was one of the strawberries from her cocktail.

He brushed his thumb up and down her back and slid his other hand down her jaw to hold the side of her neck instead.

Finally.

She was finally going to be his. Tonight. She was coming home with him, and after tonight, Evan would bind her to him forever. He wasn't about to let one night fade into a memory and never have the luxury or the pleasure of having (Y/n) again.

If she was coming home with him, then he was going to make damn sure that she was going to be his girl. Eddie had let her go, that was his loss and simultaneously the best win of Evan's life. He could finally have the girl of his dreams without breaking his best friend's heart or causing shockwaves in their friendship group.

He could have her. She was going to be his. She was finally within his grasp and Evan wasn't letting her go.

This was just the beginning.

***

Confusion mixed with glee plastered across Evan's face when he opened the apartment door.

(Y/n) was here.

He hadn't expected her to turn up to his place, especially not unannounced. After their hook up little over two months ago, contact between them had been small and stilted. (Y/n) felt bad. She didn't want to start anything with Evan or acknowledge what happened between them and hurt Eddie, and for the most part, Evan understood.

They had to wait. He couldn't expect her to start dating him or being around him too much and risk Eddie finding out. Their one night together had been enough for Evan, it was enough to calm his raging obsession over (Y/n). Knowing he'd had that night with her and that hundreds more nights like that were doubtless going to happen.

They just had to wait a little while, and it seemed the waiting was over if (Y/n) was here at his door, wanting to speak to him and be around him. A few texts every now and then and crossing paths when they went to see Chris was the most contact they had had since that night in the bar.

He moved his arm to welcome her inside and shut the door after her, following her through into the kitchen, which took him by surprise. He thought she would go into the living room if she was here to talk.

"I- I'm sorry to turn up unannounced like this, but I really need to talk to you." (Y/n) rolled her lips together and moved into the kitchen.

Her hands began to tap against the counter and she leaned her elbows forward onto the edge to prop herself up. Her eyes followed Evan as he moved to stand beside her but with his back and hips against the counter so he was facing her properly.

He folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head to one side, looking at her with that smile that made (Y/n) weak in more ways than one.

He observed her. She put her bag down on the counter beside her. Her hands were fiddling and tapping and moving at every second like she hard far too much nervous energy that she needed rid of. The way she bit her bottom lip told Evan she was nervous about something and therefore he was glad she was here so he could help with whatever the problem was.

"Sure, what's up, is everything okay?" His arms stayed folded over his chest and he began to tap his fingers on his biceps as he watched her.

She looked anxious. (Y/n) never normally seemed anxious around him, and she certainly hadn't been nervous that night they spent together. She had no need to be on edge around him, she knew how much he fancied her and they always got along like a house on fire.

"I- oh, Evan, I'm…"

Evan's brows furrowed as he watched her fumble for the right words before she seemed to give up. She rattled through her bag and handed him a small white and blue stick that took him by surprise. He gingerly took what she held out to him before his brows lifted and he did his best to supress his smile.

A pregnancy test. She was pregnant.

"Oh, wow." Evan set the test down behind him on the counter while he watched (Y/n) drop her head down into her hands. He noticed the way her fingers scratched into the back of her head and it made him desperate to reach out and stop her.

"I'm sorry," She wasn't quite sure what else to say, but she all but jumped when she felt his hand on her lower back.

"Why're you sorry?"

"Well, I- I know this is a mess. If Eddie finds out, God he's going to be so angry, look at me. He breaks up with me, and I sleep with his best friend." (Y/n) scratched her nails into her scalp as tears welled up in her eyes and she doubled over a bit more.

What would Eddie say when he found out? How bad did this make her look? How awful was she? Yes, Eddie had broken up with her and yes it was because he wanted to try something with someone else for the completely wrong reasons. But (Y/n) had gone and slept with his best friend almost immediately. She shouldn't have slept with Evan, it was too soon, it was the wrong move to make. She should have been more careful.

"Hey, hey don't do that. It doesn't matter right now what he's going to think, Eddie's not in this situation."

Reaching out, Evan held onto her forearms and gently reeled her up off the counter so she was stood up straight. He tried to pull her into his embrace but (Y/n) shook her head and took a step back. That upset him. He could feel his heart lurching up into his throat when she retreated from his touch.

"I- I- would you take a test? You can hate me if you want, I deserve it, but- but I wanna be sure-" (Y/n) tried to find the paternity test in her bag but just as she slumped it onto the counter, Evan gently but firmly took hold of her wrists.

He turned her attention back to him, and (Y/n) was more than surprised to find a calming smile lighting up his face. He brushed his thumbs over the back of her hands and tugged her closer until she was practically stood between his legs, almost leaning forward into his chest.

Why wasn't he shouting at her? Why wasn't he getting angry or infuriated? Why wasn't Evan telling her she was inconsiderate and rude and that he wanted nothing more to do with her? How could he be so calm in this situation?

"I'll take the test if you calm down for me." When he gently pressed his temple down against hers, (Y/n) almost fainted.

"Why're you being so calm about this?"

"Because I know that we can do this. We're not strangers, we're friends, and I kind of think you know already that I'm crazy about you. So, take a deep breath, and smile for me. I'll do the test, then when we know for sure, we can sit down and talk about how we're gonna do this. Okay?"

(Y/n) barely found herself nodding along but when Evan pecked her temple, she let the tears fall and pushed into him.

She bound her arms as tightly as she could around his torso and buried her face into his shirt. He smelled like leather and cologne; (Y/n) liked his aftershave. She loved the feeling when his arms curved around her. She loved the way his chest rumbled as he chuckled softly into her hair and her knees trembled when he pecked the top of her head.

She still couldn't fathom how he was so calm about this. She dropped a bombshell on him that she was pregnant, and she had just asked him to take a paternity test because she had to be sure. (Y/n) was almost one hundred percent sure that it wasn't Eddie's. The dates wouldn't add up and Eddie always, always, used protection. He didn't want anymore kids, he was adamant about that.

(Y/n) had been sure that she and Evan had used protection, but clearly it hadn't been effective because she was pregnant. Her dates made sense if it was Evan's baby and somehow, it would be easier if it was.

She wouldn't have to tell Eddie and have him be angry or confused or unsure about doing this with her. They would have to scramble to decide whether to get back together or co-parent whilst not being in a relationship, and (Y/n) did not want to do that. And she didn't want to get back with Eddie after the way they broke up. She was glad to leave him in her past and simply try to be friends with him, for all their sakes.

The only issue with this being Evan's baby was how they would tell people and how they would explain this if they went through with this pregnancy. Eddie would figure out the dates, he wasn't stupid, and he would likely hold this against them both. Rightfully so.

"That's better." Evan murmured into her hair when he felt (Y/n)'s breaths evening out against his sternum.

Now she was tucked up in his embrace, Evan allowed the broad smile to pull at his lips and he slouched back into the counter while he dragged his hand up and down her back.

He wasn't in any doubt.

Evan knew one hundred percent that this baby was his, but if it would calm (Y/n) down, he would take the test to calm down her anxiety.

He was Eddie's best friend, so he had heard the ins and outs of Eddie's thoughts and feelings for the last six years. He knew Eddie was adamant that he wasn't having any more kids. Chris was his one and only as far as he was concerned, and that was how Evan knew Eddie always used protection with any girlfriend he had. He wouldn't take the risk of (Y/n) getting pregnant.

It had to be Evan's, and he knew that because he didn't use protection that night they slept together after the bar. Evan knew (Y/n) was under the impression that he did, and he wouldn't tell her otherwise because it didn't matter anymore, she was already pregnant. The ins and outs and reasonings didn't matter now.

Evan loved her. He had loved her since the moment he laid eyes on her and he had been jealous every moment of every day when she had been with Eddie. Evan felt like he was going to combust whenever he thought about (Y/n) and the fact that he couldn't be with her.

That night at the bar changed everything. He loved her and she had wanted to be with him, it was as plain in her eyes as it was in how she clung to him and went home with him.

And he knew that if she got pregnant, that would be it. Their fates would be entwined and cemented together if she had a baby. She would be his girl, his and only his. She would have his baby, they would be a proper family.

With that thought in mind, Evan bypassed using protection. He made a show of looking in the bedside drawer for one, but (Y/n) had been too drunk to check if he actually found and wore one. Evan methodically planned it out in his head, this plan was what was best for them and now they were having a baby and he would always put her and the baby first.

He and Eddie were opposites. Eddie didn't want kids, Evan wanted lots, and (Y/n) was the one girl he wanted them with. He knew if she didn't get pregnant that night all it would take was a few more nights together and it would happen, but luck was clearly on his side as that one night had worked in his favour.

She was having his baby. She was his girl now.

***

A swell of relief bubbled to life in (Y/n)'s chest and sparked through her stomach when she clocked eyes on a familiar swarm of chocolate brown hair heading in her direction. She stood up and tried to smile when Eddie walked over to her.

He had one hand stuffed into his trouser pocket and the other hand stretched out in her direction. He seemed to debate whether or not to reach out for her, they weren't together anymore. They were barely on speaking terms after how things ended between them. But he settled on reaching out for her elbow and giving her a small squeeze.

"Sorry I'm late, I tried calling."

"Oh, uh my phone's out of battery. I got you a coffee, black, three sugars." (Y/n) motioned towards the table where two drinks were laid out ready before she eased back down into her seat.

Her phone hadn't actually run out of battery. She'd switched it off. Her location settings couldn't be checked if her phone was off. Evan would think she was still at home; he wouldn't know she had gone out. The other option was leave her phone at home, but that didn't feel safe. Just in case something happened or she had some sort of emergency.

"I wasn't sure I believed Buck when he told me."

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine when Eddie pointed to her stomach. She could see he was trying his best to smile, but he couldn't manage it. He couldn't hide the agony from his eyes either, and it felt like a knife imbedding into (Y/n)'s chest.

Eddie sat down opposite her at the table, resting his elbows on the table while his hands tapped and fiddled with the coffee cup (Y/n) pushed his way.

He didn't believe when Evan sat him down and tried to talk to him. He didn't believe either of them would do this to him, that they would see each other behind his back, so quickly after he and (Y/n) broke up. And Eddie certainly couldn't wrap his head around the fact that they were now having a baby together and had subsequently moved in with each other. It didn't seem real.

When (Y/n) couldn't find a reply and she didn't answer, Eddie cleared his throat.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" He had been a little more than surprised when (Y/n) called and asked if he would meet her to talk.

He had been apprehensive about meeting her, they hadn't spoken much since they broke up. A quick text here and there to arrange for (Y/n) to see Chris or take him out for the afternoon, that was about it. He wasn't sure what she wanted to talk about, he had a feeling it wasn't about their relationship. And Evan had already assured him that the baby was Evan's, so there was no panic about paternity.

"I don't know what to do… I think I need help."

"Help with what?"

"Evan,"

(Y/n) winced when Eddie's brows narrowed and he gave her such a strange look as if she had grown a second head. She clenched her hands together beneath the table, waiting in agony as Eddie took a few mouthfuls of coffee while he deliberated on what to say.

"Really? What kind of help?" The look he gave her was a strange one. He couldn't see what kind of help she thought Eddie could give, or what kind of help she would need in the first place.

"I- well, I…" Her hand reached up to tangle in her hair, a nervous habit she couldn't seem to get rid of. She didn't want to cause problems between them, at least no more than she already had, but (Y/n) didn't know what to do anymore. "I'm struggling, I've never seen this overbearing side of him before."

There. She'd said it.

(Y/n) had never seen Evan become like he was now. She had never had him be so consuming, overwhelming, suffocating like this and it was strange. It wasn't anything she had seen in him before, not that they had ever been as close as they were now. But his behaviour was starting to worry (Y/n), and since Eddie was one of the closest people to Evan, and he had been close to her at one point, she thought he might be the one to ask for help.

Eddie set his cup down and dragged his hand up and down his jaw and the side of his neck before he chose his answer carefully.

"He's protective over his loved ones, and he's always wanted kids. This is the dream he never thought he'd get. You can't blame him for being cautious or a bit… clingy."

Protective. Is that what this was? Is that all that this was? Had (Y/n) read too much into his behaviours? Surely not, surely she had some cause for concern where Evan was concerned.

"Evan, I won't be out for long, and it's not like I'm going out on a drinking night, is it?" (Y/n) ran her hand up and down her stomach that hadn't changed shape yet. She wasn't starting to show yet, but the premise was still the same.

She was meeting her friends for lunch, they wouldn't be going out drinking all afternoon and even if her friends would be drinking, (Y/n) wouldn't be joining them. She couldn't; she wasn't irresponsible to drink while she was pregnant. And her friends knew, she had told them the good news and they were happy for her.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip and she tilted her head to one side, folding her arms over her chest when Evan moved in her path. He blocked the kitchen doorway like a boulder. The smile on his face was sweet like sugar and the way he leaned down towards her almost made (Y/n)'s knees cave.

"What if they want to go out drinking, you can't exactly join them. Why don't you just stay home with me?"

His arms cocooned around her waist and he tucked his face into her neck even as (Y/n) tried to move her hands to his shoulders and playfully nudge him away.

"Because they want to meet up."

"Just stay here, I can look after you better if you're right here with me. I can't do very much if you're out, can I?" It would be easier if she stayed home. Evan could do a lot to look after her and keep an eye on her if she was here. If she went out, he would only worry and panic over her and worry if she was alright.

"Evan-"

"It's not like they've been keeping in touch recently anyway, is it?" His words stung almost as much as his teeth biting a mark into her neck, but they also rung true.

(Y/n) hadn't spoken to the girls from work very much recently, even before she and Eddie broke up they hadn't been meeting up very often. Today was the first time in what, two months that they would all be going out together. But if it took this long for them to want to meet up, maybe (Y/n) would be better off cancelling and staying home. Surely all of them, (Y/n) herself included, would have made more effort if they all cared more.

Tilting back in her seat, (Y/n) leaned her head to one side. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she asked Eddie here, but she thought he might just understand. She thought that maybe, Eddie could see it too. Clearly she was seeing this differently to everyone else.

"Chris wants to see you, by the way." Eddie nudged her foot beneath the table to make sure her mind wasn't drifting off into space, and he managed a smile when she looked back at him.

"I miss him." The words stung her throat and made her chest tighten with the need to burst into tears.

She missed Chris. She really did. Getting close to Eddie also meant getting close to Chris, and (Y/n) wanted to keep in touch with him, she wanted to check how he was doing and continue taking him out and being there for him. She hadn't seen him a lot recently, something that (Y/n) sincerely regretted every day that Chris crossed her mind.

"Yeah, he's been asking why you haven't visited lately."

'Because Evan wouldn't let me.'

She only seemed to go out and meet people whenever she was going out with Evan. If he was busy at work or they were at home, (Y/n) didn't see anyone. She hadn't taken Chris out on her own since just before she found out she was pregnant. Since being with Evan, she only took Chris out when the three of them went on days out.

She didn't see the team unless her and Evan were meeting up with them. She didn't see her friends anymore. (Y/n) didn't have many people to talk to and if she called people while Evan was at work, he asked why. He asked why she waited until he went to work rather than talking to them while he was around.

His voice hung in the back of her head when he was at work and stopped (Y/n) from talking to the few people she had left.

"I haven't seen much of anyone lately." Her head hung down and she smiled remorsefully to herself while she sipped her drink.

"Why?"

"I only see people when I go out with Evan, if I try going out without him he- he starts messaging, getting nervous."

'Controlling. Upset. He doesn't like me seeing anyone without him, if he can't physically see or be with me then his anxiety flares up. He thinks things will go wrong if he doesn't control the situation.'

'He gets jealous and anxious if I talk to people and he doesn't know what I've said. Having things in common with people might mean I want to be with them more than him.'

"I can't seem to breathe without him, Eddie and it's… it's getting hard." That was why she asked him here. She needed help, (Y/n) was starting to drown and she needed someone to throw her a life jacket, or she feared she was never going to come up for air.

"Hey baby, where are you going?"

Dread dwelled in the pit of (Y/n)'s stomach and she halted in her stride, clenching her phone tighter in her hand. She pressed it so harshly to her ear that her pulse began to throb in her veins and pound in her head.

How did he know? How did Evan know she had left the house? He was supposed to be at work.

She took a sweeping look around her surroundings, but there weren't many people out in the park. None of them looked familiar, no faces resembling the team or their families. Evan wasn't hiding in the crowd. No one here was looking at her, no one could have phoned Evan to let him know she left home without telling him first.

"What?" Her voice sounded feeble and she hated how weak it made her sound, especially when her throat tightened with the sensation of wanting to burst into tears.

"I didn't think you were going out today. You've not got any appointments, is everything okay?"

For a brief moment, she rummaged through her bag as if she thought she was going to find a tracker in there, monitoring her movements, watching where she was going. But then it dawned on her. The tracker was in her hand. She had her phone on her. There were location apps on some phones.

Had Evan connected their phones? Had he turned the locator app on in her phone? Was that how he knew she wasn't at home? Why was he tracking and watching her when he was at work? Didn't he trust her?

"I- I just wanted some fresh air…"

"Okay, well I'm finishing work now anyway, so I can come get you and we can go out somewhere."

"I don't know what kind of help you want, but I don't see what I can do anyway. You moved onto my best friend what, days, maybe a week after we broke up. And now you're pregnant. You moved on with him pretty quick (Y/n), Hell you're moved in with him already, you didn't move in with me-"

"Because he asked me to and I'm pregnant. Did I really have any other choice?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she pressed both hands down on the table and leaned closer to him.

What else was she supposed to do?

Eddie never asked her. He never wanted to take that step further in the relationship, and (Y/n) respected that. She respected that Eddie was weary of commitment and took things at his pace.

But this was different. She and Evan didn't have a lot of choices. She was pregnant and if they wanted to try and make this relationship work and give their baby a stable upbringing, they had to live together. (Y/n) couldn't bring up this child on her own, she didn't want that and neither did Evan. Their only option was to move in together, surely Eddie could see and understand that.

"He seems pretty happy with you, and you've been cosy up to now." The clear cut tone to Eddie's voice made (Y/n)'s lips curl and she bit down on her lower lip to stop from bursting into tears.

"How do you know that, you've barely spoken to me since we broke up." She couldn't help snapping back at him.

Eddie didn't have the right to sit there and tell her she was wrong or she was being silly and pretend she was overreacting. She asked him here for help, Eddie had to know that she would only do that if she was desperate. He hadn't seen her much since they broke up. She had taken Chris out twice since they ended things, and she barely talked to Eddie when she picked Chris up.

The few other times she saw Chris, Evan had been there and he smoothed over the conversation. Eddie couldn't say things had been fine and cosy when he only had Evan's version of events, he didn't see things from (Y/n)'s point of view.

"Did you sleep with him before we split?" His hand ran down his jaw before his arms folded on the table and he rose a brow.

"How can you ask me that?" She didn't have the will to prevent the tears from falling down her face anymore.

If he was going to do this to her then she was going to go home. She wouldn't sit here and have Eddie accuse her of cheating when she did everything right in their relationship. She left when Eddie wanted to break up. She didn't argue or try and make things complicated. She tried to smooth things over for Chris and still be there for him. She didn't go round telling anyone other than Evan exactly why Eddie broke up with her when she had every right to say what he had done to her.

And now he had the nerve to ask if she had been cheating on him with his best friend.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n) I- I just don't like my ex and my best friend getting together right in front of me. You have to admit you two moved fast."

"Yes, and it wasn't planned."

(Y/n) hadn't planned on sleeping with Evan, she didn't plan on meeting him in that bar that night. Nor did she plan to get pregnant or get into a relationship with Evan so swiftly after leaving Eddie. But this was the way things had turned out, she couldn't lie or pretend otherwise.

"It's a pretty big coincidence though-"

"Forget it. This was a bad idea, I'm- I'm going home. Bye Eddie."

She got up as fast as she could, snatched her bag onto her shoulder and stormed out, ignoring Eddie's voice calling after her.

If he was going to berrate her then she wasn't going to sit and listen to it, she didn't have to listen anymore. She asked Eddie here for help, but he wasn't going to help her, and that was okay. She would sort this on her own, just like she had to.

Her hands swiped across her cheeks, brushing away the tears as she briskly walked down the street, aiming for home.

A home which she shared with Evan. (Y/n) couldn't go to anyone else, she didn't have anyone else and no one else she trusted would help her, they would side with Evan. They were all his friends. It didn't seem to matter now, anyway. (Y/n) couldn't raise this baby alone and whether Evan had done this intentionally or not, she was bound to him.

They lived together, (Y/n) worked from home which isolated her from everyone and the only friends she had left were those who were close to Evan. They were his friends first, his team, his family. She would just have to try and talk to Evan, see if he could stop smothering her so much and let her have a bit of leeway. They would have to work this out together, no one else could or would help them.

"Evan loves me. He loves us," Her hand moved to glide up and down her bump and she sniffed through a smile when she felt a kick against her palm. The baby agreed. "And that's enough, it has to be."

Maybe Evan was all she needed. She could rely on him, he had proven that. He didn't get angry or annoyed or walk out on her when she told him she was pregnant, and when she asked him for the paternity test he was all too eager to prove it and be by her side. (Y/n) had to be the luckiest person in the world to have Evan, despite the tendencies and quirks he was now displaying.

He loved the bones of her and their baby. He did whatever he could for her, she could ask the world of him and he wouldn't question it. Who else would look out for her, love her, protect her and put her first in the way that Evan would?

If he was the only person in her life, at least he was the one she could count on.

She didn't need anyone else.

[astermath]

mark of mine ⋆୨୧˚

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: you getting ready turns into something more intimate with your boyfriend. he doesn’t realize he’s about to go out with marks of your affection all over him.

word count: 1.4K

tags: established relationship, fluff, praising ethan for being the prettiest boy, him being so vulnerable to your kisses, marks of red lipstick, idk what else to put here lmao

notes: just a bit of a fluffy blurb, I’ll be trying out a new character soon but for now my ethan landry brain rot must be satisfied. please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related writing!

The room was filled with soft music, the smell of freshly applied perfume and dim, cozy lighting. The two of you were getting ready to head out with the rest of your friends to a party. Or, well, at least you were. Ethan was sat on your bed playing a mobile game, since all he really had to do was get dressed. Sometimes you envied him for not having to put in a lot of effort to look good, but then again, you did like the entire process of getting ready to go out.

You rummaged around your makeup bag, somehow not being able to find your favorite lip gloss, before you remembered you’d let Tara borrow it. You decide to look for something else, until your fingers came across a lipstick you hadn’t touched in forever. It was a gorgeous dark red, and you vividly remember begging your mom to get it for you when you were just a teenager. The memory brought a smile to your lips as the pads of your fingers touched the luxurious packaging.

You looked back into the mirror and took off the cap, twisting the lipstick up and gently applying it to your lips. The texture was smooth, creamy, the color resembling a deep, almost blood-like shade of scarlet red. It worked so well with your skin tone and your features, you wondered why you hadn’t touched it in so long.

You ran it across your bottom lip, twisting the lipstick back down again and putting it away before you rubbed your lips together, releasing with an audible ‘pop’. You admired yourself in the mirror, before a pair of familiar hands distracted you.

Ethan hummed softly, hands finding their place on your hips as he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck. “Hmm… You almost done? I’m getting lonely just sitting on your bed…”

You turn around to face him, hands sneaking up his chest and settling on his shoulders as your back bumped against the sink. “You’re so impatient…”

He leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours, thumbs gently running circles over your hips. “Can you blame me?” He leaned further down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Hm… You look so pretty…” He smiled against your lips. Funny he was saying that right when he had his eyes closed to kiss you.

You returned the kiss, body relaxing under his touch. Of course he always thought you looked gorgeous, often sneaking glances at you even if you two weren’t talking, and complimenting you any chance he’d get. But seeing you all dolled up like this, it truly brought something out in him. And when you’d put on that fancy perfume, he’d always be all over you by the end of the night. 

You pulled away and held his face, eyes widening just a little at the slight red stain on his lips. Now you remembered why you didn’t wear this lipstick that much again, it was not transfer proof whatsoever. But that just gave you an idea...

You smiled gently and placed another kiss on the corner of his mouth. A perfect kiss mark adorned his face, and he had no idea. “Hm... We have some time before we have to head out, right?”

“Wh... Oh, uh, yeah... I think so.” He always got so into kissing you, he sounded a little out of it afterwards. “Why?”

“No reason in particular, just wanna spend some alone time with my boyfriend.” You grinned, having to hold back a giggle at the sight of your lips marked onto his skin. You took his hand and guided him back to the bed, getting on his lap when he sat down, straddling his hips. Your dress hiked up just enough to expose your thighs, those gorgeous thighs he could never get enough of. Even now, his hands gravitated towards them, settling gently on the soft flesh.

You leaned in again, one hand sliding into his curly hair, gently scratching his scalp as you peppered gentle kisses over his cheek, before moving onto his jaw. “You’re so pretty...” You mumbled against his skin. You felt Ethan’s hands grip your thighs just a little harder, his hips shifting slightly at your words. He was so easily influenced by you, like your presence alone excited him. 

You dipped down to his neck, his breath getting caught in his throat when you kissed the sensitive skin below his jaw. His hands started moving back and forth, softly rubbing, almost massaging your thighs. 

“My pretty boy...” He could practically hear the smile on your lips when you whispered into his ear, shivering when you nipped at his earbud. The kisses on his neck got more intense, and he responded well to them, making sweet noises as reward for your efforts. He spoke your name softly, almost as a warning, as if to say “if we keep going, I’m going to have a problem���.

You pulled away, looking at him and feeling satisfied with the masterpiece you’d created on his face. He was a little flustered, pink cheeks decorated with deep red marks of your affection. Your lipstick was perfectly intact, but anyone else looking at him would quickly realize what you two had been up to before. 

You were rudely interrupted by a loud notification on your phone, startling you both. 

[chad]: r u guys coming or are u too busy fucking?

[mindy]: please don’t be fucking rn

[chad]: they’re def fucking

[tara]: U GUYSSS just get down here already it’s cold :’(((

You smiled at the screen and texted back a quick “omw!” before tossing your phone to the side.

“Alright, we should head out. The others are getting cold waiting for us downstairs.” You pressed a final kiss to his cheek before getting off his lap. Ethan’s hands remained in place for a moment, ghosting over where your thighs had just been, not fully registering your words yet.

“Right! Right, we should uh... Yeah.” He adjusted himself a little and grabbed his jacket as you put on your heels. 

You were already downstairs, waiting with the rest as you were trying to defend your case of not having sex with your boyfriend right before you were going out.

“Right, what else would have been taking you two so long?” Anika rolls her eyes and teasingly bumps her hip against yours. 

“I’m telling you, I seriously couldn’t find my phone!” You giggled.

“Alright, alright, let’s just hope he hurries up so we can actually go.” Mindy said, hands rubbing her own arms to keep herself warm a bit. “I love your lipstick by the way, I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

You smile at her compliment, and right as you wanted to respond, the sound of the front door opening interrupted you. Everyone turned to look at Ethan walking outside, a smile on his face as he waved.

“Hi! Sorry it took so long, I seriously couldn’t find my keys.” His smile faded a bit when he noticed everyone was staring at him. You felt your own cheeks heat up at the sight of his kiss marked face. In the heat of the moment, you’d completely forgotten to tell him to take it off, and now your alibi for what you were up to earlier was totally ruined.

“Are... You guys okay? Do I have something on my face?” Ethan questioned, oblivious as usual. Chad broke out in laughter at those words, and the rest followed soon after as you brought your hands up to cover your embarrassed face.

“Oh, man! You guys suck at lying!” Chad says between fits of laughter. 

Ethan opens the camera on his phone and his eyes widen at the sight. “S-Shit, I didn’t realize your lipstick rubbed off on me like that.”

Tara and Anika had already snapped multiple pictures of Ethan’s face, so there was no way either of you were ever going to live this one down.

“Alright, alright, very funny, haha.” You try to interrupt. “You might wanna go wash that off babe.” You look at Ethan, and he nods with a bit of a nervous smile.

“I don’t know girl, I think it’s a look!” Tara comments, and they all laugh again.

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you agreed. 

That picture Anika took of Ethan became your lock screen soon after. 

tag list <3

@kometqh 

[genericpuff]

say sike right now, she's actually going back to The Doctor Pepper Show-

Like, this is just "What if The Doctor Pepper Show and LO had a baby?" Because at this point it's very clear Rachel only knows how to write from inside her own head, which is full of unresolved salt towards her childhood and medical fetish shit. The imagery in the first panel is very LO, and the imagery in the second is literally The Doctor Foxglove Show-

Evidently she's been reskinning the same shit for years-

Listen, I've been, for the most part, keeping my lips sealed on a lot of Rachel's old projects and what I've dug up on her previous works, for a few reasons:

1.) We were all cringe on the Internet at some point in time and a lot of these older works, such as Freak Scene Surgery and The Doctor Pepper Show, would have been from when she was in her late teens / early 20's. I'm not here to judge Rachel's personal preferences or whatever kind of fetishes she's into. It's totally normal, expected even, for a lot of creators to have older works they're trying to bury or disconnect themselves from because it's simply not them anymore.

2.) Ultimately I've been focused on discussion around Lore Olympus and Rachel as she currently operates as a creator, so I don't want to go digging up her old skeletons as any sort of "gotcha" towards LO today. Ultimately a lot of these works don't have anything to really 'do' with LO as it exists today.

That said, the reason I'm bringing it up now is because these new series... are bridging that gap that I've been avoiding for ages now. The gap that's filled with skeletons of Rachel's past that she's trying to both disconnect herself from but now fall back on with LO come and gone. It almost goes to show that her being a one-note pony goes back since far before LO - these are literally the only ideas she's able to come up with at this point, and it's painfully obvious in how both these new "graphic novel pitches" are pretty much the exact same and could apply to the same character, and that character may as well just be Persephone, i.e. Rachel, all over again.

Like, I'm calling it now, Patients in the Dark is just gonna be more "moms are bad" rhetoric, and Eleanor's Deathbed is gonna be Hades and Persephone, but replace Hades with some death god and Persephone with a training mortician, which is basically also still just Foxglove training to be a doctor, and Icy Shaw bragging about fondling corpses.

If anything, now that Webtoons is no longer carrying her around on their shoulders, this is gonna be Rachel's moment of "put up or shut up". She can either actually put in an active effort to write something that's decent, or she can flounder under the weight of her own tired mediocrity that's been knocking at her door for years now. As much as she's using her labels that were bought for her to sell these books which aren't even in real development yet-

-Webtoons isn't gonna be there to buy her Eisners forever. This is entirely on her and the imprint that Webtoons shoved her into. Her process is still the same, she's learned nothing from the experience of making LO, she's just got the money and awards now and is trying to run with it, but all she has are the same tired pitch lines that she's been using for decades now and just so happened to work with LO because LO had both Webtoons and the appeal of it being a Greek myth "retelling" to carry it into fame.

I'm gonna go into a bit of a tangent here, but it's been weighing on my mind since I found out this news and have been discussing it with pals within the ULO circle. Rachel once said in an interview that she wanted to use her platform to raise awareness of issues regarding sexual assault, mental health, and "the patriarchy":

"Who do you know that hasn’t been sexually assaulted? The number is depressingly low, right? Why is that? There is no short answer or an easy fix. I have a platform. I can tell a story that will hopefully educate and help others feel acknowledged and vindicated." - Rachel Smythe, Interview with Gossamer Rainbow

"...obviously I'm very feminist, and that sort of stuff really matters to me, um, the best way to approach this question is… I began, the pilot was written in sort of mid-2017, and I think what I wanted, what I wanted to achieve, and I don't even know… probably in 5 years time I don't know how I'm going to feel about this but I'm taking the risk, I really wanted to write a story where, uh…this female character goes through these things and I think what I wanted to do, what I wanted to achieve, was like a really common, I can't speak for like, men, but I can definitely speak for like, you know, if you're sitting in a group of your female friends and you're like "Hey! Who's been sexually assaulted?" … The response is going to be really depressing… Most female people that you know have probably experienced sexual assault to, on one level or another, and I'm like, for me I'm like "Why is that? Why?" And is it because there is a lack of information, lack of education, like what is it? And I'm lucky enough to have a platform and I'm like, if I could just provide some information in story format, would that help? Is this what I can contribute? So I feel like, especially, when writing sexual assault in media often it's… it's a way for the main male character to be, like, uplifted to hero-ness by, usually like, violence is the way to fix the problem, and that's not the approach that I want to take… um, I think [sighs], oh god, sorry I've lost my train of thought, [sighs], yeah, I think a lot of the time in movies when they, like, show rapists or something it's generally someone who's jumped out from behind the tree at a lady in a park and it's not really how it is like 90% of the time [laughs], so I just wanted to make something realistic where people could at it and be, like, "hey, nagging someone into sex isn't cool" or like removing all of their opportunities to say no isn't cool, or for someone to look at it, and just like feel validation, this is me trying, trying my best to make a difference with the platform that I have, and yeah, this is my roundabout answer for it" - Rachel Smythe, Interview with The Comic Source

And yet not once has Rachel actually used her platform for good outside of herself. She just asks the question, "Sexual assault?" and then writes off the answer "yes, it's bad!" and it especially shows in LO where the resolution to the one plotline she kept around to draw in readers was "assaulters are sent to the timeout corner!" Sure, it works for the readers who are simply seeking validation that their experiences aren't unique to themselves, but is it actually doing any real work to talk about the systems in place that leads to people like Apollo being created? Is it doing anything to address purity culture as it exists and the double standards that exist for women who are navigating sexual relationships? Is it doing anything to take the discussion outside of the narrative and put it into action through support of women's shelters, charities, mental health support for men, etc.? Not really. Like many of Rachel's ideas throughout LO, she simply goes, "Men, amirite?" and the answer is "yeah men suck!" and nothing more. The answer to the entire SA plotline is "rape is bad, don't do it" when anyone who could even relate to that conclusion in the first place already knows that.

Ultimately the activism she claims she's trying to do doesn't actually service the issue at hand - it just services herself and her own insecurities, her own unresolved trauma, her own need for validation through Eisners and merch sales. She asks the question, "Who hasn't been assaulted?" so that when she responds to the women who come forward and relate to Persephone, it's with the intent of getting them to read LO and buy her merchandise. She winds up making herself the center of other people's experiences, even ones that she cannot relate to. At BEST her attempts to "use her platform" as a means of starting discussion around ongoing societal issues like the patriarchy and sexual assault towards women is about as effective as Bell #LetsTalk, it's purely performative, self-profiting, and offers nothing of real tangibility.

If she just wants to write her own self-empowering personal works, that would be fine. Plenty of creators do it. Art is, at its core, self-expression. But it's extremely telling that she's built a platform off her self-expression, and twisted it into what she believes to be "activism" and "feminism", so that she can continue to profit off it in her future works such as this, which, again, are just reskins of her previous projects which were largely centered around the fetishizing of abuse towards women.

I don't want to claim that this is what it is, but... how much of the "feminism" in LO is done purely through the lens of victimizing women? Why is there more effort put into torturing female characters like Hera, and Demeter, and Minthe, and even Persephone to a certain degree, than there is into actually addressing the larger issue that she's claiming she wants to shed light on and resolving her questions with actionable answers?

That is the only question I will leave you all with. I am absolutely 100% not planning on touching these works with a ten foot pole, even if they should come to fruition. With the recent realization that she was into artists like Trevor Brown, alongside the fact that we've known for a long time she's into Lolita and there are very clear parallels to draw between it and LO, I think it's safe to say at this point that Rachel's work is not something I want to continue to support even when it's "hate reading". Again, I'm not going to outright accuse her of anything, but I feel like the writing is clearly on the wall here and I'm taking that writing as my warning to steer clear.

I didn't want to discuss the elephant in the room - her older works as they exist in the distant past of the early 2000's - but she's now riding the elephant.