#i hope he’s taking care of himself and i hope he knows he’s allowed as much time to process as he needs

[tojicide]

JEALOU$Y. ☆ CALEB.

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦. at the end of the day, you and caleb are just childhood friends—nothing more, nothing less. so, when you mention going on a date, it’s totally logical that he wouldn’t care, right? if only that were the truth.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. fem! reader, current! caleb, zayne mention, jealousy, pet names, praise, oral ( fem. receiving ), cowgirl, unprotected p in v, creampie. 𝑤𝑐. 5.4k.

𝑛𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. jealou$y — the neighbourhood.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Doomsday has finally dawned upon Linkon City, though Caleb seems to be the only person truly affected by this catastrophe.

It was all his fault in the grand scheme of things. He hadn’t been clear enough, hadn’t shown the full extent of his feelings for you. But above all, he should have never offered Zayne those measly words of advice.

He should have known that the doctor had ulterior motives. Why else would he have called Caleb up one week ago to ask about you of all people?

It was a mean ploy, truly. Anyone and everyone knows about Caleb’s inability to shut up about you, his sole weakness was being exploited right in front of his eyes and he was none the wiser. The questions seemed harmless then. Posed as genuine curiosity, Caleb would have never been able to decipher the hidden intent behind each word that Zayne spoke into the receiver.

What are her days off? What does she do in her free time? You said that the restaurant around the corner from Akso Hospital was her favorite, yes?

In retrospect, he should have absolutely seen this coming. But then again, nothing could have ever prepared Caleb to hear those four life-altering words slipping from your lips.

“I have a date.”

A record scratches in his brain, forcing him to halt his steps for an abnormally long time before he slowly turns to face you. “You… what?”

Hearing the words repeated in that saccharine tone of yours only added salt to the wound, oddly enough. It physically pained him to ask for more information about your date, though he managed to hide his disdain with that boyish grin of his and a bit of lighthearted teasing.

But inside? That little green monster was stirring, and there was very little he could do to quell it.

Begrudgingly, he managed to get the key details before forcing himself to stow away in his bedroom and… think. Next Thursday. 6 PM. Maltosio Restaurant. With Zayne.

The next week passed by in an agonizingly slow fashion. It was as though each X that marked a passing day was a physical blow to his already aching heart, and those adorable images of the kittens on his calendar (the calendar that you picked out) did very little to help him.

Subtlety was never his strong suit, but then again, desperate times call for desperate measures. And believe Caleb when he says that he is very much desperate.

“Soo…” he’d drawl, leaning over the back of the couch to peer down at you. “I heard there’s a screening of that movie you’ve been wanting to see at the drive-in next Thursday. Wanna come with?”

You perked up like a ball of excitement, and for a moment, Caleb allowed himself to get his hopes up, but your frown quickly dissipated them. “Next Thursday? Oh, no, I can’t make it! I’m going out with Zayne, remember?”

Of course he remembered. That was exactly why he hadn’t let up—not even once—in his attempts to distract you just enough to make you forget all about your dinner plans. He could take you out for a nice dinner too. Say, that’s actually a good idea…

The next day, Caleb tried that one.

“Oh, pip-squeak,” he sang, his airy voice ringing through your apartment as he walked down the hallway. “I got us reservations at the restaurant in Skyhaven that you’ve been itchin’ to check out.”

You perked up, just like you did before. “Really?”

He nodded with a triumphant grin, internally patting himself on the back for his own good idea. “Mm-hmm. Next Thursday. Got us those window seats you wanted too—the ones that overlook the city.”

And once again, your gaze softened, and an all-too-adorable pout tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, Caleb, I’m sorry. I’m busy that day.”

You really are too sweet for your own good. He can’t even blame Zayne for taking an interest in you, he’d be downright shocked if any man with two seeing eyes had the audacity to not think that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Caleb sure does. He always has. He always will.

It wasn’t long before the day of reckoning was upon him. Thursday evening. Sunlight cut through the blinds in the living room, casting golden hues across the vast space. Much to his dismay, the trashy reality television you’d left on the screen did very little to soothe his worries.

He fidgeted with the dog chains you’d gifted him, his thumb brushing along the gift that you had so kindly given him. It was a testament to your bond. A bond that something as trivial as a single evening apart couldn’t tamper with… right?

“Caleb!” Your antsy voice cut through the air, forcing his wandering mind to snap back to reality.

He was up and down the hallway before you could even say another word, pressing a flat hand to your door to nudge it open. It was then that he saw you, all dolled up in your robe with your favorite dresses laid out on your bed.

Your hands grasp onto two of the hangers, holding them up side-by-side to help him get a better look at them. Though, his eyes were noticeably distracted, contorted in an unfamiliar lovesick expression as they pierced into yours. “Quick! Which do you think is cuter?”

Caleb blinks—once, twice, three times—until he forces himself to finally look down at the dress options in your grasp. He’d seen you wear them plenty of times before, and the thought of someone else seeing you in such beautiful fabric nearly made his stomach lurch.

He raises his forearm, leaning against the doorframe as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, c’mon, that’s an impossible choice. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

It was a typical response, one that you were expecting, though his lack of advice made you hmph as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Well… I hear polka dots symbolize happiness and stripes symbolize slipping between realms. Pretty interesting stuff, huh?”

“Very interesting,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up at the mere sound of your voice. “Is that why you buy so many things in those patterns?”

You quirk an eyebrow, confusion etching into your expression. “Huh? What else do I buy that’s…” It quickly dawns on you, and you can feel heat creep up your neck and reach your face. “You’re a jerk.”

Caleb can’t help but laugh, taking a few steps into the room so that he can properly look at each and every one of the dress options laid out on your bed. “What’s the matter? If I remember correctly, someone was beggin’ me to do her laundry. Somethin’ about the laundry machine being sooo far and your feet hurting sooo bad.”

Huffing and far too flustered for your own good, you shake your head. “Well… well I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

He clicks his tongue, absentmindedly pinching your side as he leans down to rest his chin in the dip of your shoulder. “Tsk. You know I’m always observant when it comes to you. Even if it’s remembering something as trivial as the patterns of your cute little undies.”

You swat him away. “You’re so annoying!”

To that, he can only chuckle, giving your sides a brief squeeze before taking a few steps back. “Alriiight, alright, I’ll leave you alone.” Before exiting the room entirely, he hangs onto the doorframe, giving you a soft smile. “I’m serious though. You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” His lips curve into a smirk. “But if you want my input—you know I’ve always been a sucker for seeing you in florals.”

And with that, he whisks away, silently hoping and praying that this date will fall through on its own. Plopping back down on the couch, his eyes are practically glued to his watch. 5:48 PM. It wouldn’t be long before Zayne would be knocking at the front door—punctual as ever. Oh, it made him sick.

How could he have done this? To you, to himself? Caleb should be ashamed. He should be the one sitting across from you later tonight, holding your hand and listening to you ramble about whatever your heart desires. It should be him. It would have been him if he wasn’t so damn afraid.

But the sound of approaching heels clicking along the hardwood floor quickly snapped him out of his pity party, prompting him to look over his shoulder. And there you were once again, now adorned in a floral sundress that had made him lose his mind more times than he’d like to admit.

Under his breath, he can’t help but mutter, “Yeah, you’re gonna kill me…”

It was his favorite dress of yours, too. You really were trying to kill him. A white dress that was littered with blue flowers, the fabric fit you perfectly, loose and fitted in all of the right places.

Zayne didn’t deserve to see you like this. Plain and simple.

Standing from the couch, he lets out a low, appreciative whistle. “There she is,” he says, taking your hand to spin you around a single time. His smile only widens as he sees yours. “You look gorgeous, just like I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes with a bashful smile, one that he has to physically fight the urge to kiss away. “Oh, you flatter me,” you say through a laugh.

He shakes his head, bringing a hand up to gently smooth down a pesky hair on the top of your head. “Can’t be flattery if I mean every word of it.”

A breeze wafted through the open window, blowing the fabric of your dress ever so slightly. The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers infiltrates the living room, though the scent of your perfume and something that was uniquely you had his full attention.

“Y’know, you can be pretty nice when you want to be,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Chuckling, he simply nods, his large hands settling on your middle. “Yeah. When I want to be.”

You brush past him, padding over to the back door. Pushing it open, you step out onto the warm concrete patio, breathing in the fresh air that the backyard had to offer you. Spring in Linkon was always a delight, though the warmth that Caleb radiates behind you serves to be the most comforting thing about the entire scene.

His hand comes to rest on the curve of your shoulder, his fingers nimbly pulling at one of the straps of your dress. With his heart rate shooting through the roof, he forces himself to take a moment. He needs to get this right. This may be the last chance he’ll be able to do this.

“I… look, there’s something that I—”

But suddenly, the sound of rapping knuckles at the front door cuts through the tense silence. Both of your attention is drawn to the closed door, and having left the back door open, you both have a clear view of it.

You turn around to face Caleb, offering him a sheepish smile. “That’s probably Zayne.”

He only nods, forcing his hand to fall back to his side. “Yeah, probably.”

This was it. He was losing you. It stung to know that this was no one’s fault apart from his own. His inability to be honest about his feelings, his lack of forwardness with you… what was he expecting? That you’d never date? That he could keep you happy forever without offering you anything more?

It was a stupid fantasy, one that had earned him this spot. But when he saw you turn to leave, your eyes still locked on his, a surge of panic shot up his spine. His eyes flit around—the grass, the flowerbeds, the hose… that was currently filling up the pool…

“Be mad at me later,” he suddenly says.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Wha— ah!”

Before you could even begin to process what was happening, you were suddenly pushed back into the chamber full of chlorine infested water. Caleb watches with a wry expression as you shoot up from beneath the water, splashing aimlessly as you swim towards the edge.

“What the fuck was that?” you bark, perching one elbow up onto the concrete as you reach the other one out to him. “What the hell are you looking at? Help me out!”

Caleb can’t even protest, not with the incredibly irrational stunt he’d just pulled. “I’m sorry, pip-squeak, I just…” And so, he reaches down, his hand clasping around yours… until you pull him forward with all of your strength and send him tumbling into the pool too.

And when he comes up for air, you splash him the moment he opens his eyes. Serves him right. The chlorine will sting his eyes almost as much as your mascara is stinging yours right now.

With that, you pull yourself out of the pool, a trail of water marking your path as you wring out the fabric of your dress. After that, you disappear inside of the house, leaving Caleb to rub his eyes in utter defeat.

He gives you both a long stretch of alone time before he retreats back into the house like a kicked puppy, his head hanging low as he runs a hand through his wet strands of hair. You’ve evidently told Zayne that today wasn’t going to work anymore, judging by his lack of presence, and that thought alone makes Caleb more happy than he should be.

Sucking in a short breath, he knocks twice at your shut bedroom door. “Honey? It… it’s me.”

“Go away,” you retort without missing a single beat.

Caleb pokes his tongue into his cheek as he leans forward, resting his forehead on the cool surface of your bedroom door. “C’mon. Just… talk to me.”

It doesn’t take long before the door is swung open, revealing an incredibly angry version of you with a freshly cleaned face. He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to try and rectify the situation in any way he can, but you beat him to it. Quickly.

“How dare you?” you spit, jabbing your index finger into his chest. “What was that, Caleb? Are we ten years old again? Your method of communication is… is pushing me into the damn pool?”

He sighs, catching your hand to unfold your closed fingers. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I—”

“No!” you cut him off, sticking your other index finger into his chest. “It’s your turn to listen. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, you’re all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever wanted. Do you know how it feels to have everything you want dangled in front of you for so many years, and… and just torn away? Time and time again?”

Caleb is rendered speechless, his brows furrowed in both confusion and a sense of odd relief as you unleash all of the thoughts that you’ve kept hidden for so long. He doesn’t bother catching your other hand, instead, he allows you to repeatedly jab at his chest. It hurts, but he can handle it. Just like he can handle the words you’re saying.

“So, you know what? I decided that enough was enough!” you continue, your index finger pressing wildly into the hard planes of his chest. “I wasn’t going to wait around, I wasn’t going to pretend, I was going to move on! And… and I was going to!”

He tilts his head, his amethyst eyes growing fuzzy as he looks down at you. “Was going to?”

You huff, eyes narrowing as you jab your finger into his chest for a final time before turning away from him. “Well, I’m not exactly going on a date anymore, am I?”

Caleb nods, though you can’t see it. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze tracing your silhouette through the soaked fabric of your dress. Sighing, he straightens off the wall, but before he can turn away, you spin around to face him.

“And you know what else?” you huff. “You know the solution to this problem just as well as I do.”

He nods his head with a single jerk of his chin, beckoning you to continue. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You step closer, and for the final time, you stab your finger into his pec. “You need to grow a pair.”

Inhaling deeply, all he can do is smile. It infuriates you and he knows it, but he just can’t help himself. He takes both of your wrists and tugs you forward until your chest presses against his own, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.

You’re slowly simmering down, the heat of your outburst dissipating as your skin cooled. With your eyebrows still furrowed, all you can do is look up at him, daring him to speak. To do anything.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “A little.”

He slowly nods his head, his fingers curving along your jaw before he cups your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there anything I can do to help with that?”

You can feel his breath fan along your lips, cool and minty and just about everything you could have ever fantasized about on your own. You part your lips to reply, but this time, Caleb is the one who beats you to it.

“We’re making puddles all over the floor, you know.”

Glancing down, you see the truth in his words. The pool water dripped from your respective clothing and gathered around the two of you, making a wry smile find your lips.

“Oh,” you breathe, “I didn’t even notice.”

“I like to think I’m pretty observant when it comes to you,” he murmurs, smoothing his free hand along your side until it grasps onto the fabric of your dress. “Need some help with this?”

You look up, meeting his gaze once more. “With… with what?”

“Well,” he drawls, his fingertips brushing along your outer thigh as he slowly drags the fabric upward. His movements are hesitant and cautious, his eyes flickering between each of yours. “You’re wet. I’m wet. Maybe we can… help each other dry off.”

Your eyelids falter as they flit between his, your gaze instinctively falling to the plush curve of his bottom lip. “Okay,” you murmur.

A smile tugs at his mouth. “Okay. Arms up.”

Slowly, you lift your arms above your head. His hands work together to slowly push the fabric of your dress up and over your head, letting it slip onto the floor with a wet plop.

His breath is nearly torn from his lungs the moment he sees your bare skin, so beautiful and soft and made to be his. Hesitantly, his fingertips trace the curve of your hips with a sense of reverence.

“Do you need help too?” you ask, your voice breathy from the restrained sense of need that has come over you.

Pausing his exploration of your bare skin, Caleb finds himself nodding, almost immediately lifting his arms over his head. “Please.”

And now, you take the opportunity to do the same. Slowly, you peel his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aimlessly into the laundry hamper near the door. Your gaze traces over the defining lines of his abdomen, your touch doing the same as it trails southward.

His lower stomach tenses up as your fingers brush against the hem of his jeans. He can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut, the way a touch so simple can nearly bring him to his knees. Breathing shakily, he leans down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Careful,” he breathes in warning, his voice taking on a raspy tone.

You almost startle at the unfamiliarity of his voice, though you push your hesitation aside as your thumb brushes over the button of his pants. “But… these are wet too.”

A huff of air leaves his mouth, the sound something between a low laugh and a groan. He forces his eyes open, his stare meeting your own. “Trying to get me naked before our first kiss? I have to say, you’re full of surprises.”

Faltering, your hands fall away from his pants. “You’re right, I… I’m—”

Caleb can’t help but chuckle, taking a hold of your hands to bring them right back to where they were before. This time, he guides your fingers through the motion of unbuttoning his pants. “Kidding,” he whispers against your lips. “Besides… we’re good at multitasking, yeah?”

You’re nodding before you can truly process his words. “Yeah.”

His lips crash onto yours with a groan that omits from deep within, the button of his jeans finally popping open from your ministry. The zipper went next, tugged down along with the fabric entirety until he was left in only his boxers.

His hands roam your curves greedily, eating up every inch of skin that he has deprived himself of for far too long. Your waist, your hips, your thighs—he needs to feel you in any way possible.

And you return his eagerness so well, wrapping your arms around his neck as you draw him in even closer. His hands worked quickly, hoisting you up until your legs wrapped around his waist as he walked the both of you over to your bed.

Laying you down on the mattress, he takes the initiative to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip to gain access that you readily give him. He can’t help but moan into your mouth, the sweet taste of your tongue tangling with his own forcing his brain to short circuit in a way he’s never experienced before.

You kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and he was loving every second of it. Your hands fisted into his hair while your lips moved in tandem with his, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands gave your hips a firm squeeze.

His lips trail down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your neck and the curve of your shoulder as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you flush against him. A gasp leaves you at the feeling of his erection pressing against your clothes sex, the friction so delicious that it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Caleb is so far gone, kissing his way along your arms, your neck, your sternum, all up until he reaches the valley of your breasts. He wastes very little time there, licking a trail to your nipple before sucking the peak into his mouth. His other hand palms at your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, his hips rocking forward as he switches sides, latching onto your neglected breast and giving it a hard suck. “So beautiful.”

His descent continues as he mouths at the soft skin of your belly, your hips, your inner thighs. His eyes depart from yours as they settle onto the fabric covering your cunt, and a grin stretches across his face. Polka dots.

You scoff, softly shoving his shoulder. “Don’t even say it.”

Chuckling, he leans in to press a kiss on the damp patch of fabric. “Wasn’t gonna say anything, baby.”

His fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs and tossing them aimlessly. His lips press feverish kisses to your ankles, your calves, your inner thighs, and eventually, the mound of your pussy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers into your heat, hiking your legs up and over his shoulders and he pulls your sex closer to his mouth. “So damn worth it.”

A cry leaves you as his tongue delves in deep between your legs, his eyes slipping shut as he lets out an unabashed whimper into your sex. His grip on your thighs only tightens, keeping your legs spread apart as they threaten to press in on his head.

He wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t. He needed to have you in the way that he’s dreamt of for so long, in the way that he’s thought of time and time again as he fucked his own fist to the thought of you. It was filthy, it was lewd, but it was honest.

You tasted better than he could have ever imagined, his tongue eagerly lapping at your inner walls before his lips sealed around your puffy clit, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the plush mattress.

The stimulation is leaving you feeling overwhelmed, your hands pushing into his hair as your trembling thighs test the strength of his grip. You whine, eyes slipping shut as your head tilts back against the pillows.

“It— it’s too much—”

“Be good,” he finds himself saying, pulling you right back to his mouth as he continues to feast on your pussy like a man starved. “You can take it, baby.” Caleb cracks open his eyes, sucking harshly onto your clit before releasing it with a wet pop. “Go on, pretty girl. Say it.”

You whine, though you hardly have the brain power to say anything else apart from what he’s asked of you. “I… I can take it,” you breathe.

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your sensitive pearl before nipping at it. “There you go.”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble once more, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, a final resort for reprieve as he works you over the edge.

Caleb redoubled his efforts, spreading your thighs even wider. Soon, the warmth pooling in your lower stomach was far too much to bear, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“I’m… I’m coming,” you gasp out, hands gripping tightly onto his dark locks of hair.

And when you do, his flattened tongue laps at your honeyed release. He works you through your high, his movements eventually slowing down as the twitching of your hips gradually calms.

He pulls off of you with a wet pop, pressing soft kisses to your swollen clit. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, pressing another peck on your mound before he moves back up your body once more to slot his lips against yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only spurs you on further. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders, and in one swift motion, you flip him onto his back. Caleb looks up at you with a starry-eyed expression, but when you straddle his hips and sit in his lap, he has no words of protest. None at all.

“You really are full of surprises,” he says, running his hands along the warm skin of your thighs.

Tugging him free from his boxers, he helps you remove them from his body, leaving you both entirely bare together. He sits up, his back pressing against the headboard as he tugs you closer to him.

“I need you,” he whispers, pressing a longing kiss on your stomach as you shift to straddle him once more. “Please, baby.”

You gaze down at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Please what?”

He leans into your touch, his hands settling onto your waist as he pulls you lower, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. “Make yourself feel good. Please.”

Caleb’s own cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue, both from the embarrassment that his own lack of experience brought upon him and the reality of finally having the love of his life in such an intimate way. His amethyst eyes search your face, as if searching for a permission that he didn’t know how to ask for.

Dipping your head, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Simultaneously, you swivel your hips until the tip of his length catches your entrance. You slowly lower yourself, feeling the way his cock stretches you out, filling you up in a way that only he can.

He smiles at you, cupping your cheek with his hand. Brushing a thumb over your bottom lip, he kisses you gently. “You feel so good,” he whimpers into your mouth, his other hand resting on your hip as you roll your hips in a way that has his breath hitching in his throat. “So fucking perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, consisting of a slow and meticulous rocking of your hips. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing the deepest points of your inner walls with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Caleb’s hands grasped tightly onto your hips, helping you set a pace that had the both of you losing your mind. He leans backward, his head tilting against the headboard as it slams against the wall with each intense grind of your hips.

“Good girl, give it to me how you like it,” he breathes, eyes cracking open to watch the way you look down at him as you work yourself on his length. “Use me however you need me, baby, there you go.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him in for a longing kiss. “I… you— you feel so…” you stammer, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder as you lose yourself on his cock.

He nods his head in agreement, turning his head to press a kiss on your damp cheek as he gently pets your hair. “I know, I know.”

You lose yourself all together, your legs shaking as you tighten your hold on him. “Caleb!” you moan.

His hips help you the rest of the way, his grip on your hips keeping you firmly planted as he meets your movements with thrusts of his own. “I know it, baby, I’ve got you,” he pants through a smile, guiding you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Atta girl, use those hips.”

His arms wrap around you entirely, crushing you against the hard planes of his chest as you slowly ride the both of you through your shared orgasm. In that moment, in your house, in this space that belonged to you and Caleb alone—the two of you became one.

Heavy breathing and hammering heartbeats is all that consumes the two of you for a long while, skin to skin with far too much bliss brewing in your chests for either of you to handle alone.

Huffing softly, Caleb runs a hand up your side. “You okay in there?” he asks, turning his head to pepper soft kisses along your cheek. “C’mon, I need some proof of life.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “Shut up, give me a second.”

He merely smiles, wrapping his arms around your middle once more as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Thirty seconds after finishing and you’re already mean. “There’s my girl.”

Caleb’s hands smooth over the soft planes of your back, giving your hips a soft squeeze as he revels in the feeling of your heartbeat drumming against his own. He can’t help himself from pressing a few kisses on the top of your head, his arms opting to wrap even tighter around you.

“I love—” he cuts himself off, eyes widening dazedly. Would that be too much? A confession of his undying love not long after ruining your date and making love with you for the first time? After a stretch of awkward silence, he kisses your head once more. “I love… cuddling with you. You’re so soft.”

You smile, nuzzling even closer to his chest, your nose brushing against skin. “Mm, I love you too, Caleb.”

His eyes widened, though he knows that communicating his confusion is futile. You knew him so well, too well.

“You do?” he whispers, turning his head just enough to look down at you.

In response to that, you nod. “Mm-hmm. I’ll love you even more if you tell me that you didn’t cancel those dinner reservations.”

Caleb smiles, running a hand over your hair. As if he’d given up his last ditch effort to take you out. “You know I didn’t.”

𝑛𝘰𝘵𝑒. rip zayne i still love you king!!! also i actually don’t really know how to write for caleb… so… i hope this didn’t suck! this is the only fic that managed to break my intense writer’s block that i’ve had for the past two months. reblog/comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate you reading so much <3

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[yoonguurt]

Pairing: non idol Jihoon x F!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, smut

Trope: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 5,088 

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: Jihoon always joins in when his group of friends makes fun of Mingyu for being a simp for his girlfriend. It isn’t that he thinks that a man shouldn’t go above and beyond for their significant other, it’s just that he hasn’t had a girlfriend that makes him want to go that far. Maybe one day, though.

A/N: This is for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid event! Surpise @strawberry-skiess I'm your cupid! This honestly was hard to start, but once I started I just couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day (even though I'm a day late) Thanks to @kwanisms for this lovely little banner. I love it so much. This is for adults only, no minors allowed! I will fight you.

Read all of the other wonderful entries here

Smut Warnings: slight nipple play, dom!Jihoon, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (do not), maybe two thigh slaps

“Well, if it isn’t the simp of the century.” Jeonghan’s voice floats through Jihoon’s ears and he looks to the door as Mingyu walks in. Over the last couple of months, calling their group giant a simp has become something of a ritual. They don’t mean it, they honestly think it’s adorable how whipped Mingyu is. And he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. He wears the title like a badge of honor. “Still single and bitchy, I see.” Mingyu’s retort is almost immediate, a cheshire grin adorning his face as he watches the rest of the group burst into laughter and Jeonghan’s face turn into a mix between a smirk and a scowl. 

Jihoon retreats into his thoughts while his friends chatter amongst themselves. He does think it’s sweet how much Mingyu loves his girlfriend, he just isn’t sure that he understands. Sure, he’s had a few relationships of his own, and while he cared about them, even loved one or two, he has never known the amount of love Mingyu seems to wield. His friend found his self described love of his life around 4 months ago and he’s been head over heels the entire time. Jihoon has watched Mingyu rush to get to his phone when he gets a text, with a special ringtone for his girlfriend, and smile like an idiot at whatever it is she has said.

He’s lived through Mingyu leaving nights at the bar solely because his girl wanted to cuddle. When her birthday came around, the two men spent hours going through unlimited stores while Mingyu tried to find the perfect present. Every time Jihoon suggested something, Mingyu had a retort on why it wasn’t good enough. The new cd by her favorite band? “I don’t have enough time to get it signed.” The pretty pink purse that screamed something his girlfriend would like? “I already got her that one.” Eventually, the tall man had settled on a necklace that Jihoon was certain cost more than a used car. Mingyu had the money to throw around, he guessed. 

Part of Jihoon wants to know what it’s like to feel like that. Another part thinks that it seems like a burden. He can’t decide where he stands on the topic. Sure, he wants that great love that novels describe, wants to give his heart to someone and know that they’ll always be there. But at the same time, he isn’t sure he’ll find someone that can deal with his finicky moods. There are times when he wants someone to cuddle, only to immediately change his mind. He knows that can be annoying, and he is working on it. One of his other issues is time. He takes his job seriously. 

Working as a producer, he is a busy man. He doesn’t know if there’s a person out there that will understand that sometimes, he loses himself in his work. His phone drifts to the back of his mind, dates forgotten without him meaning to. It’s the main reason his relationships have failed. He genuinely doesn’t mean to, and it’s another thing he has been working on. He’s been getting better at responding to his friends in a timely manner, he’s even taken to setting alarms on his phones so he doesn’t miss the planned hangouts. Sure, he still falls into the music and forgets the world around him, but he’s getting better.

There has always been an exception, though. You. His best friend. The two of you have known each other for years, having met in freshman year of college. Your sunny disposition sometimes clashed with the grumpy facade he puts on, but it’s always worked. A couple of his exes thought there was something going on between the two of you, but that’s never been the case. He just clicks with you. You understand him. You’re a busy woman, too. The journalism world stops for no one. 

“Isn’t that right, Jihoon?” He snaps head up toward the voice. Soonyoung looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree with him. “Sorry, what?” The huff of air that comes from Soonyoung’s mouth lets him know how annoyed his friend is. “I said that it’s cute that Mingyu loves his girl so much, isn’t that right?” Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer this. “Sure, it’s cute, but it seems exhausting.” The sound of a scoff comes from behind him and he turns to the sound. He hadn’t realized that you were here. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong, like when a teacher calls on you to answer in class and you fumble and answer wrong. It’s embarrassing for some reason. “So what I’m hearing is that you would find caring for your partner that much to be an inconvenience?” Everyone’s eyes flit between you and Jihoon, waiting for a debate to start. The two of you have always been like that. You’re able to have a small, argumentative conversation and then go back to joking like it never happened. 

Jihoon sighs deeply, knowing where this is going. “That’s not what I said.” His tone lets you know just how annoyed at having a conversation like this again. “I’m just saying that Mingyu’s level of simpdom sounds like a bit much. I’m happy he has someone that he loves so much, but being at her beck and call constantly sounds tiring.” Mingyu responds before you can even open your mouth. “That isn’t how it is.” His tone isn’t defensive in any way. He just sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. “She doesn’t ask me to do any of that. She actually encourages me to have fun with you guys. I just feel so happy that I have her and I want to make sure she knows that.” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment, thinking over Mingyu’s words. He thinks to himself, wandering again if he’s ever had something like that. He thinks the closest thing he’s had is you. He’s dropped more things that he can count to be at your side when you need him. He’s even dipped on girlfriends because you were upset. Once, he canceled on his most recent ex just because you secured a front page spot for the local paper. He needed to be the one to celebrate your accomplishment with you, needed to be the first one to congratulate you. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. Sure, he had had a massive crush on you in college, he thought he might have been in love with you, but that had disappeared a long time ago. 

When you showed no sign of reciprocating his feelings, he decided to let it go, letting you go, at least in the romantic sense. 

Of course, there were still times where he’d look at you and think about how beautiful you were, especially when you’d just woken up and the light was hitting you in a specific way. But, that was just him appreciating your beauty as a best friend. He was sure of it. Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he glanced at Mingyu, nodding his head. “I guess I could see how someone could feel that way.” He chose to ignore the way Soonyoung cut his eyes toward him, knowing what he was thinking. Soonyoung had been the only person who had known about his college crush. He always insisted that you had felt the same, and that Jihoon still held a candle for you. 

“You’ll find it one day, Hoon. Don’t close yourself off to it.” Your voice is strained, though you try to hide it. You’ve always admired Jihoon, even if he was a bit closed off. He’d never really let himself go in a relationship. It was like he never felt comfortable. But you knew him at his core, knew how sweet and thoughtful he was. He had always been there for you when you needed him, which was probably why your love for him had never died. You’d tried to find someone else, dated people, even loved one or two, but not like you loved Jihoon. No one could compare. You’ve seen every side of him and there isn’t a single one of them that you don’t adore. He’s also been growing his hair and God does he look better than you’ve ever seen him. You can tell his confidence has grown a little and that is even more attractive. You know you’re well and truly fucked, but you aren’t sure you want to change that.

The night winds down and everyone gathers their things to leave. Soonyoung takes the time to pull Jihoon aside, making the younger boy look at his friend in confusion. “Look, I know you’re going to deny it like you always do, but watching you two pine after each other is getting hard to do.” Jihoon opens his mouth, only to be silenced by Soonyoung’s hand lifting in the air. “Have you ever stopped to think that there’s a reason that relationships never worked out for either of you? If you haven’t, then think about it, ok?” Soonyoung clapped his friend on the shoulder before he moved to hug you and tell you goodbye. 

“I’ll help clean up.” Jihoon’s words cut into your thoughts, distracting you from what it is you were thinking. You turned to face him, a teasing smirk gracing your features. “Take a look around. There’s nothing to clean up. Go home and actually get some sleep tonight. I know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow, just like I know you haven’t been sleeping. Just listen to me and go sleep.” He was baffled at how you knew that, but then again it was a talent you seemed to have. Knowing everything without him having to tell you. But then again, he guessed he had the same talent. It was like a sixth sense. Some real ‘There’s a disturbance’ shit. He simply nodded at you, saying goodnight and leaving without even stopping to think that you barely had to have any force behind your turn to get him to do exactly what you wanted.

The thinking came when he walked through his door. A lot of it. Soonyoung’s words began to float through his mind. Did they have any weight to them at all? Sure, relationships had really never worked out for the two of you, but that didn’t mean anything. Relationships come and go, that’s what they do. Occasionally, people get lucky and they find who they’re supposed to be with. Sometimes, they don’t. That was just life, it didn’t mean that the two of you were the reason the other’s relationships failed. The more he thought about it, though, the more merit Soonyoung’s words seemed to hold. Any time you needed him, he came running, and the same applied to you. You’ve both left dates and anniversaries because the other needed something. He’s had to assure quite a few exs that there was nothing romantic between the two of you and if he had to guess, he’d say you’ve done the same. Everything hits him at all once and he feels the need to sit down to process. 

You’re going through your own mental roller coaster. You know that Jihoon could find his person if he would just let someone in. It doesn’t have to be you, though you desperately want it to be, you just want him to find someone that will make him happy, someone that will bring out the loving side you know that he has. You sigh deeply as you lock up your apartment, making your way to your bed to get some much needed sleep.

You don’t hear from Jihoon for a few days, but that isn’t totally unusual. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music and you just wait until he’s back in the land of the living. But as a whole week passes, you start to worry. He’s never gone more than 3 days without speaking to you. You try to play through the events of the last time you saw him, thinking about if you had done something out of the norm. The only thing you think of is the conversation everyone had about Mingyu. He must have been offended that he was ganged up on, but then again that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t the first time everyone had had this conversation and he has never reacted like this before. It takes a split second for you to make up your mind and grab your purse and walk out the door.

Jihoon sits at his computer, staring past it like it’s not even there. He can’t focus, hasn’t been able to focus for a week. His thoughts always float back to you and how he feels. Now that he has realized he does in fact have feelings for you still, he can’t seem to bring himself to face you. What if he acts different? What if you realize? He can’t risk it. There are too many years of friendship on the line. Sure, not answering your texts is the coward’s way out, but he doesn’t know what else to do. As he had sat on his couch a week ago, the realization that he was in love with you hit him in the face. Damn Soonyoung. He would have been totally fine if he had kept being ignorant. Now though, he knows that he’d do anything for you. He knows that he already does do anything for you. 

The beeping on the keypad to his studio brings his attention back to reality. There are select few who know the code to his studio and he looks at the door with held breath, hoping it isn’t who he knows it is. You swing the door open, displeasure written all over your face. “What the fuck, Lee Jihoon?” He grimaces, hating that you’ve pulled his full name out of your pocket. If he didn’t before, he knows now that he is in deep trouble. He sits in his chair, slouching like a scolded child as you glare at him. “No text in a week. No reply in a week. Nothing to let me know that you’re even alive. Who the hell do you think you are?” Jihoon almost wants to laugh, thinking you’re adorable even when you’re angry, but he doesn’t dare. He knows that will only make things worse for him. 

Jihoon is hit with a sudden urge to touch you and he can’t hold back. He quickly stands and moves towards you slowly, watching as your demeanor changes. You go from angry to confused as you watch his steps. He stops in front of you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, but you can still hear them. All of the anger leaves you, almost. You hit his shoulder lightly, making him giggle slightly. “You damn well should be. Had my ass worried sick, asshole.” There’s a playfulness in your tone, one that you can’t help but let out. Your confusion grows as you realize that Jihoon hasn’t stopped hugging you. That is definitely different. Jihoon hates physical touch, he always has. In the entirety of your friendship, he’s only hugged you a handful of times and everyone has been quick, lasting only a few seconds.

“What happened to you in the past week for you to be so affectionate? You hate physical affection.” Your words come out teasing, trying to mask your genuine curiosity as a joke. He doesn’t answer for a moment, seeming content to just continue holding you. When he finally does speak, you choke on air, starting a small coughing fit. “Yeah, but I love you.” There’s no teasing tone. No joking. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. You have no words. No thoughts, head empty. 

Jihoon pulls back just enough to look at you and you can see the hesitation and worry in his eyes. You need to say something, you want to say something, but nothing is coming out. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air and you’re sure you look ridiculous. When you finally find words, they aren’t what you planned to say. “Are you sure about that?” Jihoon can’t contain his laugh and the sound hits you in your gut. It makes every fiber of your being tingle. Hearing him laugh brings you back to reality and you give him a playful shove, smiling and letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Shut up.” There’s no real bite to your words and you know that he knows that. “I tell you that I love you and your response is to ask me if I’m sure?” He’s teasing you and loving it and you pout. “Hey! It’s a perfectly valid question!” Looking at him your heart surges with affection. 

“As funny as that was, I’m kind of panicking over here. A response would be nice, even if it’s a rejection.” Jihoon chews his lip as the nerves show on his face. You can’t help but smile at him and reach up and lace your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?” Your statement throws him off guard and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Wha-” You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.” The smile that comes across his face could light up a room with no lights. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” He giggles against your lips as you give him a pout and a shove. His reaction is to pull you closer to him, pressing you as close to his body as possible. 

His eyes flit down to your lips before trailing back to your eyes, in silent question. You give him a slight nod, knowing that he’ll get the message. You watch as his lips slowly move towards yours, as if he’s teasing you by making you wait. You let out a whine of impatience and he giggles. He can’t help but give you what you want. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, it’s like the world explodes in a rainbow of colors you didn’t even know existed. You feel as if your entire purpose makes sense now that you have tasted his lips. It doesn’t take long before the sweet pecks turn into desperate, open mouthed kisses. His tongue dances with yours, fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins. The way he takes control of the kiss goes straight to your core. You’d thought about this and sure, you thought he’d be more of a dominant lover, but the reality is greater than what you could imagine. And this is only kissing. You can only imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s actually fucking you. The thought alone has your thighs clenching.

Of course, Jihoon notices even though you’re trying to be subtle about it. He pulls back with a smirk. “Oh? Is someone getting needy?” The way his voice drops in octave only causes you to clench tighter and let out a small whimper. Jihoon’s lips make their way to your neck, leaving small nibbles and kisses in their wake. “Aww. My poor baby. Already getting desperate, huh?” All you can do is nod against him as your hands grab at his shirt. He lets out a deep chuckle against the skin of your neck and the vibrations make you shiver. His hand slowly makes its way from your neck down the front of your chest, stopping just above your breast. He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, silent asking for consent. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you take his hand, completely bypassing your clothed breast and placing it at the hem of your shirt. He takes the hint, leaning back just enough to lift your shirt from your body.

The chilly air in the studio causes your nipples to harden immediately and Jihoon’s eyes fall to your chest and darken with lust. His hands instantly find your bra covered breasts, pulling the cups down just enough to him to see your peaked buds. Taking one in between his thumb and index fingers, he pinches lightly, just enough to see your reaction. When you arch into him, he smirks, knowing he’s found something you like. “Hoon, please.” Your voice is light and airy, the need evident. “Please what, sweetheart? What do you need? You’ve gotta use your words, pretty.” The way you buck your hips and whine tells him all he needs to know. 

He moves his fingers to the button of your pants, making a show of slowly loosening the button. His teasing is both driving you crazy and making you more horny than you have ever been. Your hips are bucking into nothing, desperate for some sort of stimulation. When he finally gets the button undone, he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down as he lowers himself. “Hands above your head, baby. No moving unless I say.” The softness of his tone does nothing to hide the dominance and it makes you weak. You nod and move your hands above your head against the wall. Jihoon flashes you a smile that makes your heart flutter. “What a good girl I have. You listen so well, my love.” 

When he taps your leg to signal for you to lift your legs to step out of the pants. You obey slowly, trying to tease him a little bit. A quick slap to your thigh makes you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips. “Behave. I’m trying to make our first time sweet. Don’t test me, angel.” His patience wavers slightly when he can’t wait to remove your panties, simply using his strength to rip them so that they fall off of you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “Holy shit, Jihoon.” He smirks like he knows how much his strength affects you, because he does. He doesn’t say anything, simply lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, making eye contact as he makes a show of sticking his tongue out, flicking it over your clit. The sudden contact makes you jerk forward and your eyes fall closed. Even though the action was nowhere near enough, it made you even more wet. You’re practically dripping at this point and once glance at the man below you lets you know that he enjoys the effect he has on you. 

He spends what feels like forever just slowly giving your clit kitten licks, driving you insane just as slowly. Without warning, his actions speed up. He grips your hips and harshly pulls them forward, shoving his face as far into your pussy as he can get it. The moan you emit is bordering on pornagraphic. Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to grip him by the hair and ride his face. As if he can sense your thoughts, he pulls back, making you whine. “Don’t even try it. Move those hands and you won’t cum at all.” The slight growl in his voice does things to your insides. “Yes, sir.” Your voice is low and desperate and Jihoon groans, approving of your choice of title. 

He dives back into your cunt, quickly sliding his middle finger inside of you, his ring following a few seconds later. He curls his fingers, searching for the spot that he knows will make you come undone. It doesn’t take him long to find it, pressing the tips of his fingers against it and rubbing. You can’t control the sounds that come from your throat and you’re beyond glad the studio is soundproof. You can feel yourself getting closer to your peak and you do your best to communicate that. “Ji, please. So close.” Your hips are moving without your control, chasing your end on instinct. Jihoon leans back long enough to give you permission to come. “That’s it baby. Let it go. Let me taste you. Give it to me.” His words throw you over the precipice, launching your mind into a different plane, one that is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sound of his voice. Jihoon works you through your orgasm, slowing down gradually to draw it out as long as possible. 

“Breathe, love. In and out.” You don’t even realize how hard you’re panting, but you listen to him regardless. Your eyes are closed and your legs feel like jelly and you’re aware that you’re only standing because he’s holding you up. You aren’t sure when he stood, brushing his fingers across your face and through your hair. When you finally return to reality, he’s looking at you with concern. “Are you ok?” His voice is shaky with hints of worry and his eyes flicker all over your face like he’s looking for some sign of distress. It takes you a moment to respond and when you do, you can only say the first thing that pops into your mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That was insane and amazing and I need your cock in me right now or I’ll die.” The laugh Jihoon lets out is loud and unrestrained and it makes you smile. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his lips. His hands take hold of yours and he slowly moves you toward the couch that sits against the wall behind his computer chair. With another kiss, he steps back, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Lay down on your back, baby.” You don’t even think before doing as he says, keeping your eyes on his as he lifts his shirt over his head. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jihoon shirtless, but the fact that you know what’s about to happen makes it all the more erotic. He drops the shirt on the floor, not caring where it lands, moving his hands to the basketball shorts he’s wearing. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and you refuse to even blink as he eases his shorts and boxers down together. When his length comes into view, your mouth goes dry. He’s the perfect amount of length and girth, not too long or short and you just know the stretch will be heavenly. He watches you look at him for a moment before he steps out of his clothes completely and makes his way to the couch where your body lies limp and needy.

His eyes wander your body, simply taking you in, clearly liking the way you’re spread out for him. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” The way he’s looking at you makes your insides turn to mush and you reach for him, making grabby hands at him. He gives you a soft smile, kneeling in between your legs and linking his fingers with yours. After giving each hand a kiss, he lifts them to fit around his neck, leaning down to give a slow kiss, full of nothing but love. Giving you one last questioning look, he waits for you to smile and nod before he reaches down to align his length with your entrance. When he pushes forward, it feels like the world expands and closes in at the same time. You’re hyper aware of everything while also only focusing on the feel of him. It’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself that you didn’t even know you were missing. 

The first thrust steals every bit of oxygen you have, replacing it with love and just Jihoon. The sound he makes causes a groan to erupt from your throat. He sounds wrecked already and you love that you’re the one that is making him that way. His face buries itself in your neck, lips littering kisses along the exposed skin. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You can tell that he’s holding himself back. You lift your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, giving it a soft bite. “Jihoon, you can be soft later. Right now, I need you to fuck me.” It seems like that’s all he needed to hear. He pulls his hips back until his cock is almost completely out of you before he slams back in. Hard. The movement jolts your whole body, shoving your head against the arm of the couch. Without missing a beat, Jihoon brings his hand down to place it between your head and the couch, his thrusts still hard and fast. 

With the combination of his speed, depth and roughness, you’re embarrassingly close to coming for the second time. You dig the nails of one hand into the skin of his back, the other making its way to his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel it. The groan he lets out lets you know that he very much enjoys that. Your moans are loud and mixing with the filthy babbles that are coming from him. Praise of how good you feel, how badly he’s wanted this, how you’re his now. Your orgasm hits you full force without you even realizing just how close you were. The squeezing of your pussy around his cock and the look on your face has Jihoon following you immediately, filling your cunt with every bit of cum he has. You look up at him, and his breath hitches. You’re so, so beautiful and so, so his. Looking at you like this, he knows that he would do anything for you. Anything just to see you happy and smiling. He would eat glass if that would cause you joy, even though he knows it wouldn’t. A sudden realization hits him and he lowers his head.

“Shit, I’m a simp, too.”

[aayakashii]

For seven days, I'll be posting Valentine's Day themed headcanons for each House in Tokyo Debunker!

All prompts come from this post here ♡

And dividers are from @saradika-graphics 🫶

Taglist: @wannaberecluse

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

Valentine’s Day in Vagastrom

Alan

how does he show affection?

Through his hands. He is always touching you somehow. If he's nearby, his hands will rest on the top of your head or on your shoulders. Alan's not that good at expressing himself through words, but the way he's constantly drawing impossibly closer to your body leaves no doubt in your mind – he craves you near.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He loves them, but will always be hesitant to give them first due to his insecurities. Alan absolutely melts, however, when you settle yourself on his chest and hug him tightly – fondness for you immediately warming his heart and allowing him to hold you just a bit closer. His hugs feel like safety; you found your rock and it will be your very own shelter forevermore.

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's quite aware that he's awful at flirting, which is why he doesn't even try. He does compliment you frequently – and meanwhile, his hand goes up to rub his neck in order to dispel the embarrassment, and his eyes are cast downwards. He would love to be able to look at you properly the next time he says you look pretty.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He tries his best, but Alan probably doesn't even realize Valentine's Day is coming around until he overhears some students talking about the date. At that point, there's no time to go out anymore (it's already Valentine's Day after all). So he'll most definitely give you the safe options: chocolate and flowers. He'll try harder next year (he'll ask someone to put a reminder on his phone).

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He falls fast, but it takes him a long time to come to terms with it. Thoughts of being unworthy of you are too loud in his mind most of the time, and he pushes the need to be close to you deep into the corners of his consciousness. When it all boils over and he can't hide it behind his stoic façade anymore, he finally gives in to you and to his emotions, tired (but also relieved).

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

Extremely hard. He knows he feels it, that's for sure. But his whole life, he talked with his punches. The words feel weird in his tongue, and it frustrates him. He can only hope he's clearly conveying his feelings for you every time you hug each other. He hopes you feel it all, right there, in the pores of his skin. And you do.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

Not really. He trusts you, even though his confidence might falter and the self-deprecating thoughts might take hold for a moment. You're quick to know when to reassure him, so all the negative emotions dissipate as soon as you hold his hand again.

what is his ideal date?

Wherever you want to go with him. He doesn't have a secret spot, nor a safe place to show you. His garage doesn't feel proper, and the campus holds too many memories he would rather not think about during a date. Wherever you decide to go, it'll be fine with him, as long as you're there.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He doesn't expect anything, honestly. He's fine with just being together, but if you propose to him, he will obviously say yes (after a long, awkward moment of silence in which he was trying to get his bearings straight). If you want HIM to propose to you, you'll have to tell him and express your wishes.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

Never really thought of it, doesn't really care about it, but he saw the way GA students were fretting about it, so he figured you might be into the date, like them. If you care, he cares. That's basically it.

does he get protective easily?

He's EXTREMELY protective. Acts like a guard dog – a menacing shadow that follows you around and glares at anyone that might try some funny business. Sometimes, you have to tell him to relax and just enjoy the stroll with you, but his doberman senses just won't turn off, ever.

does he believe in true love?

He never thought much of it. He knows he loves you, so it must be real. He wonders if he deserves such a delicate, sweet experience like being truly in love with you. And every day, you make sure he knows he does.

Leo

how does he show affection?

He would rather be caught dead than explicitly show you genuine affection. Instead, he'll be calling you annoying while draping his legs on your lap and laying his head on the crook of your neck. He expresses his true feelings every single time he clings onto you, never letting go as soon as you come around his vicinity.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He hugs you like it's second nature. He's unable to stand beside you and not hold you somehow, all while acting as if him clinging onto you like a koala is perfectly normal. If you try to hug him, however, he'll throw a hissy fit, much like a cat that doesn't want to be pet.

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's fantastic when it comes to flirting ironically with ANYONE. When it comes to flirting genuinely with you, however, he simply malfunctions – much to his dismay, his cheeks burn bright red, he stutters stupidly and Leo wishes a hole could open up in the ground and swallow him. He's great at getting what he wants from others; terrible at getting what he wants from you.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He knows exactly what to give you. But he also thinks about how he could entertain his followers. He'll most likely film your reaction when he gives you the trendiest, most expensive Valentine's gift and relish on the compliments of his fans as they call him a great boyfriend. But don't worry. Once the camera is off, he hands you a smaller, more thoughtful gift. All while saying he just doesn't want you to whine about him not paying attention to you.

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He gives his heart to you slowly, little piece by little piece. He doesn't like the vulnerability, nor how much trust is involved with handing you his heart. Therefore, it might take a while until he feels completely comfortable with the thought of being wholly yours.

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He never says it, preferring just to think to himself. You've learned to hear the fondness that coats his voice whenever he's thinking that, though. The way his eyes are half-lidded, his smile is sincere, and how he calls you "silly" – which is probably the closest to a compliment that you'll get for a long time.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

He's painfully jealous of everyone and everything. If someone just touches you accidentally, he will go into a fit of jealous rage. Under all the layers of nonchalance and assertiveness, Leo is terribly insecure. He doesn't realize his rage stems from jealousy, nor does he know his jealousy comes from the fear of being left behind. He just lets that green little monster take over his body until you manage to calm him down, and he finally retracts his fangs.

what is his ideal date?

Surprisingly, he wouldn't mind turning off his phone for a little while to spend quality time with you. He would like somewhere calm and quiet, that wouldn't overwhelm his senses. An onsen in a small town isn't exactly the type of place you'd imagine Leo visiting, but if it's to spend time focusing on you, he would very much prefer that.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He wants to ask because he wants it to be pompous and glamorous. He wants to post the photos on his sns, obviously, but more than anything, he wants to keep the memory of every meaningful date for you two registered on as many photos as possible.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

He never cared about it, but loved to pretend he's looking forward to it whenever he posts. His flings were never important enough to warrant celebrating Valentine's together, but with you, he's finally gonna know the true experience. You could say he's kinda looking forward to it for real now.

does he get protective easily?

Not really. Most times, he's the one playing damsel in distress. If push comes to shove, however, he'll change his inoffensive behavior in the blink of an eye.

does he believe in true love?

Leo is too much of a skeptical man to believe in things that come from fairytales. But he's open to changing his mind if you want to give it a shot.

Sho

how does he show affection?

He doesn't hesitate to hold you and say sweet words into your ear, but his most genuine way of showing affection is through food. Whenever he asks if you've already eaten, what do you want to eat, if you'd like to try his new recipe – these are all his very own ways of saying he cares deeply about you.

does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

He loves them, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up with every chance he gets. If you hug him first, he takes that as permission to just keep holding you wherever he goes, like you're just a little keychain. His hugs feel grounding and you can feel the comforting scent of bread and cake emanating from his clothes (even if he doesn't even work with pastries).

is he good at flirting? how does he flirt?

He's annoyingly good. It genuinely feels like he was born with this skill and he makes good use of it with you. He's all lazy smiles and half-lidded eyes whenever you pass by, kisses in empty rooms with promises of more and compliments that leave you fuzzy and floaty.

is he good at gift - giving or does he struggle to get it right?

He's great at gift giving, especially because he's very into making your gifts himself. He's a crafty man and don't people say that handmade gifts are more thoughtful? He'll make you a whole bouquet of paper flowers, carefully painted, that will never wither AND homemade chocolate. And you just know that chocolate is more delicious than any store-bought brand.

is he quick or slow to give his heart away?

He goes at a normal pace, but once he realizes he has feelings for you, he feels like a middle school kid with a crush. What do you mean he stutters and blushes whenever you're around? He's an adult, for fuck's sake. He confesses to you like he's ripping a band-aid off. He just wanted to get over it as quick and painlessly as possible, shoving his heart into your hands for you to do whatever you want – step on it, throw it away or keep it safe. He was more than relieved when you decided to give yours in return.

does he find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

He's still embarrassed by it, so it's quite hard. He says it during meaningful moments, but it still comes out of his lips a bit too stilted. He loves you, he does, but he also has years of building an aloof persona on his back – it was his defense mechanism. It'll take a little while to destroy those walls.

does he get jealous in a relationship?

Not that much, he just gets mad at the audacity of some people to try and shoot their shot with you. He's quick to appear right by your side and hold you tight and close to him, just to let them know that you're with him.

what is his ideal date?

Sho loves to go to every type of festival with you. Spending time with you trying different foods, finding silly matching trinkets, and playing all sorts of rigged games – that's a perfect day in his book. And of course, the day has to end with you two cuddling after spending so much energy outside.

would he ask the big question or expect their partner to?

He doesn't have a preference, honestly. It doesn't matter who asks, if it's you or him, all that matters is that both of you will say yes and start a new chapter of your life together.

how does he feel about valentine’s day?

Before his food truck, he really didn't care. After his food truck, he just thought it was a great sale opportunity. After you, however, he began seeing it under a new light: a holiday to look forward to, a chance to make it a special day for the two of you.

does he get protective easily?

Very much so, but he's subtle about it. Like when he's jealous, he just stays nearby, ready to step in if anyone ends up being an actual threat.

does he believe in true love?

Sho used to think that these types of things are embarrassing, even a little childish, but when he looks at your figure whenever you're sleeping beside him, he can't help but believe in it a little bit.

[angelsfuzzyslippers]

Stolas, kink, and violence

This is something I've been thinking about while both having an appreciation for the nature of Stolitz's past kinky relationship and anticipating/hoping for a trend of Stolas getting more hands-on with defending himself and working alongside IMP in future seasons: I really really like that Blitz became something of a safe space for Stolas to experience pain and violence.

Like, this is a guy who's been a victim of physical abuse for a long portion of his life and who is very much feeling the impacts of that abuse on his pysche and his ability to handle conflict. Stolas clearly demonstrates on multiple occasions that he is generally uncomfortable with violent confrontation/conflict (disliking the human sacrifice/refusing to stab the cake in Apology Tour, being horrified by M&M's behavior in Sinsmas, and even the fact that he chose to intimidate the agents in Truth Seekers rather than kill them outright is a sign of this, I think). Of course, push him far enough and he will turn to violence (Andy is very punchable), but in general he has a distaste for it, particularly with respect to interpersonal relationships, that very likely stems from his trauma. So the fact that he's not only willing but excited to indulge in extreme levels of pain play with Blitz (I'll never get over fucking bear traps, my god) is very telling. Obviously, there's a whole book you could write about people processing and coping with abuse via kink that plays to elements of the abuse and I am not the person to write that book. I just wanted to take a second to really marvel at how wonderfully trusting it is of Stolas to allow that with Blitz and how amazingly Blitz must have handled it for Stolas to continually find it enjoyable. Like, as far as we know, Blitz doesn't even know about Stella's abuse - and abuse like that is a landmine-and-a-half to navigate in kink even when both partners are aware of it. So for Stolitz's kink relationship to proceed so well, when only one of them isn't in the dark about potentially triggering information - (btw Stolas, I don't blame you because I know it would've required a million different interpersonal skills that you don't have to navigate it, but it was really unsafe to not tell him at some point) -isn't just a miracle, it's a testament to how attentive of a Dom Blitz must have been (especially since Stolas absolutely gives me the vibes of the kind of sub who wants to please beyond his limits). As for what this has to do with the future, I'm very very hopeful Stolas will have a bit of a training arc, so to speak. He no longer has magic, but still very much has reasons he'll need to defend himself and as much as he enjoys the fantasy of being a damsel, I think actually being one will get old for him quickly (especially as he cares more than ever about the people who'd actually have to risk themselves to save him). Violent confrontation is something he's going to have to get relatively comfortable dealing with and participating in (and without the aid of an un-medicated mental breakdown fueling him), especially as he continues to work and associate with assassins. And who better to help him settle into that, than Blitz? The man who supported and guided him through pain and violence intimately. I could easily see a scenario where Millie is trying to teach him weapons or Moxxie is trying to instruct him on sniping and he's just viscerally uncomfortable the whole time, but the moment Blitz steps in, it eases because of that trust they've cultivated. Violence doesn't need to be flinched away from if he's facing it with Blitz. And this could easily extend to the rest of IMP as he faces more challenges with them and gains trust in them as well; likely never as much as he has with Blitz, but enough that the thought of a sparring match for fun wouldn't have him grimacing. And that's something I'd love to see. .....now as for how Blitz's own past with physical abuse and the violent nature of his life as an imp and assassin impacted his role as Stolas' Dom and shared test for extremity in the bedroom... I have no clue where to start with that one, but I know Blitz loved using those bear traps as much as Stolas did 😂😏

[pinkteethmarks]

GOOD AND PLENTY; K.B

witchy tip

➤ love spells work better when cast during a waxing moon or a new moon as it symbolises new beginnings

20. bona et multa

m.list.

a soft knock rang through katsuki’s dorm causing a slightly nervous shiver to travel up his spine. the love spell gave him confidence to act like a love drunk fool but now he was faced with the reality, the fact that he does feel strongly about you and does not exactly know how to convey those feelings properly.

he got up from his desk chair and opened the door slowly, as through he feared what was standing behind it.

“hey.” you breathlessly said, holding up the giant tub of peaches and apricot yogurt as well as two spoons, your face pleading to be let in as a shy smile was plastered onto your face.

katsuki’s eyes wandered between the tub and your face, it looked apologetic and soft. your eyes gleamed with hope and the way you slightly bit your lips in apprehension sent his mind spinning. how could he ever say no to a girl like you?

“come in, you witch.” he gruffed out, heading inside his dorm as you followed suit, a bright smile not adoring your beautiful features.

you moved to sit in the middle of the floor, thinking that either you both would sit down or that he would take a seat on the bed.

“what are you doing? sit on the desk chair, i’ll stand.” he scowled.

“no, it’s fine, i’ll stand! it’s your room anyways.” you smiled.

there you go again, making things hard for him with that damn smile that lit up a room and your effortless selflessness that melted his heart. gosh, he really hated you.

more so, he hated how you made him feel and how you could manipulate him with a single look.

‘damn minx.’ he thought to himself as he stared at you for a little while, his hands becoming clammy in his pockets and causing tiny explosions to explode in his hands.

“do what you want, i don’t care.” he muttered, sitting on the chair as you got up to put the yogurt on the table. you handed him a spoon, opened the tub and started eating.

“so, where do you wanna begin?” you asked after swallowing the spoonful you just took in.

katsuki stayed silent, choosing instead to continuing scarfing down large spoonfuls of yogurt.

“okay, i’ll just start with the love spell then… i’m sorry.” you started.

“it wasn’t fair to do that to you, i didn’t do it on purpose. i was so angry with you beforehand and i decided to do a bad luck spell but for some reason i did the wrong ingredients and… well you know the rest.” you apologised, offering a sheepish smile before going in for another bite.

“and i’m sorry for what i said before, about you not being easy to love. previously, i said i didn’t mean it but i think what it is is that i didn’t mean it in the way i put it across. i meant that this- ” you gestured between the two of you. “was hard. loving you is the easiest thing i’ve ever done in my life kat, this whole journey was hard was what i meant. constantly feeling hopeless was hard, seeing that second year happier than ever after hearing about you two was hard, feeling as though my love was unrequited was hard. i’m sorry for saying that, i knew right afterwards that i hit a really sore spot and i don’t want you thinking i did it on purpose.” the more you spoke, the more it felt like there was more to say.

yet, you cut it there. so that you could allow katsuki to process everything and hopefully reply.

“i- uhh, well… it’s not exactly like i made things easy for you.” katsuki muttered awkwardly, his eyes trained on the tub to avoid eye contact with you.

“listen, i get it. i can be… difficult or whatever the fuck you wanna call me, but it just annoys me when the one person i thought could handle me sudden backs out.” katsuki said slowly, talking about his feelings were hard for him but through therapy and having crybaby best friends, he’s managed to learn how to do it.

“i understand, and trust me, i am not backing out.” you responded firmly, causing katsuki to finally look up at you, a smirk growing in his features.

“damn right you aren’t, your stuck with me forever now.” katsuki chuckled.

“right where i wanna be.” you smiled in response.

“but i do have to say something… i, um, i am.. kinda- sorry.” katsuki struggled to get it out.

even though he sorted out his problems with izuku, apologies were still quite hard for him. it felt awkward and clunky coming out of his mouth, but you very much appreciated the effort he’s made.

“katsuki bakugou apologising in 4k?” you joked

“shut up you wannabe mage, a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.” katsuki scoffed.

“someone’s been hanging around ejiro for too long.” you further joked.

“anyways… i just… i was doing a lot of thinking about everything that happened before hand and i realised something, i never apologised for leading you on for so long and that whole second year thing.” katsuki explained.

“i never meant to lead you on, i was just scared to be honest. i didn’t think i was, the man you needed or that i could even become the man you needed. plus, the only reason i texted that extra was because, i was planning on asking you out and i need to test out my skills on some loser. i wanted it to be perfect, only the best for you. but she ruined it by opening her big mouth and causing a shit ton of rumours.” your eyes were fully blown out wide as katsuki explained everything.

you thought back to everything, how the whole reason this whole love spell conundrum started was because of that second year. just for you to find out, she was never even the main goal for him to begin with? he did it all for you?

you felt so stupid now.

you slapped your hands onto you face and groaned loudly, feeling embarrassment crash into you like a wave and drown you as you realised you started a whole problem over nothing.

“i feel so dumb, i feel so stupid. please, kill me now.” you muffled out through your hands.

“you should and i will, if you had just waited instead of spinning your shit, we would’ve skipped all of this. you would’ve been my girlfriend by now.” katsuki rolled his eyes, pretending a blush was not presenting itself on his face.

“so confident that i would’ve said yes?” you joked around, hands still covering your face.

katsuki pulled you on his lap, peeling your hands from your face slowly as his crimson pool washed any other feelings away, keeping your focus on him.

“of fucking course you would’ve said yes! what, we have a little arguments and now all of a sudden you thinking of other guys?! fucking cheater.” katsuki yelled, ruining the slightly romantic moment.

“calm down kat! yelling down this entire building, damn. who even said i was thinking about other guys?!” you laughed.

“yeah, well, you’re mine and that’s that.” katsuki replied angrily.

“are you… asking me out?” you raised an eyebrow.

“sure, if that’s what you wanna call it.” he muttered out softly.

“ask me properly, then.” you smiled as you playfully hit his chest.

“ok, be mine.” katsuki said sternly.

as soon as he finished that sentence, you crashed your lips onto him. this time, there was no internal conflict, no moral integrity being questioned nor was that feeling of forbidden desire. this time, there was no question about it, it was completely right.

you two melted into one another, becoming whole as you both kissed each other feverishly. katsuki’s lips slightly quivered with nerves, you can tell he’s still new to this - it was unlike the kiss done while he was under a spell, this was raw and real.

you felt as though you were high, you could taste the faint whispers of peaches left on his tongue, you could feel his his heartbeat spell out your name, chanting for your body and mouth to call to him, respond to him.

you were in heaven.

after a little while, you pulled away, both your lips slightly swollen from intensity of the kiss and grins decorating both of your love struck faces.

“holy fuck, was it that good the last time we kissed?” katsuki sighed out as his eyes were trained onto your lips.

“definitely not, guess this is what love does to a person.” you giggled.

“good, because i like this and i love you.” katsuki said, his eyes bouncing between your own and your lips.

“say it again.” you laughed giddily.

“i love you.” katsuki repeated.

you squealed as you peppered his face in kisses, his heavy blush intensifying by the second.

“nerd.” katsuki rolled his eyes, pretending to be nonchalant about you, his first love, finally being in his arms after so long of all these stupid games.

and he’ll be damned if he ever loses you again. like he said, you’re his and his only forever.

NOTES; IM BACK (never left but now i’m properly updating !!) but omg this fic is FINSIHED (except for the epilogue but you get it) THANK YOU SOO MUCH FOR SO MUCH SUPPORT DURING MY FIRST EVER FIC?? LIKE HELLOOOOO lowkey gonna miss my baby, but check or easy with oliver aiku and im cooking up a haikyuu sakusa vs iwaizumi fic so just… LET ME COOK. ANYWAYS THANK YOU GUSY AGAIN, ILYSM ❤️

[elusivewildflower]

Pretty in Pink | Colt Seavers x AFAB! x Reader

Pairing: Colt Seavers x AFAB! Reader

Summary: Your gift to Colt on Valentine's Day is wearing a lingerie set with pretty pink bows on it.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): oral (female receiving)

A/N: This was created all thanks to the Goose Groupies discord's writers' club where we were given Valentine's Day themed prompts! I received "Their gift is you wrapped in a bow," and thought I'd write a little something for Colt! I hope you all enjoy it, even if I am posting a few hours late 😳 No beta reader and I haven't written in months, so hopefully no big fuck ups!

MINORS DNI

You watched yourself in the mirror as you tightened the pretty pink bow that covered your chest. You had bought this lingerie set specifically for Valentine's Day and have been excitedly waiting all day to be able to surprise Colt with it. You wore a pair of matching panties, but the bows on them were fake. Taking one last glance at yourself, you walk back to the bed the two of you share in your hotel room and get into position. 

Colt had to be up incredibly early for a 5 AM call time, but he still wished you a Happy Valentine's Day with a languid kiss before he left. The upside of being a writer meant that you could work anywhere, which allowed you to follow him to movie sets around the world, but the downside was that you had been alone and horny since he left. He never failed to work you up with his touch. When you finally got the text from Colt thirty minutes ago that he was on his way home, you quickly sprung into action. By now, he should be walking in any minute. 

As if on cue, the sound of a keycard being swiped startled you from your thoughts and the door swung open seconds later. Your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest as you heard him kick his boots off before wandering further into the room. "Honey, I'm," he called as he rounded the corner, cutting himself off the second his eyes landed upon you. "Oh, wow." He finished before letting out a low whistle. The sight of you had made him speechless, a rare occasion for Colt.

You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction. As he was distracted, you took the time to indulge yourself in him. His dirty blonde hair was a bit damp, indicating that he had showered right before heading home from his trailer. Well, you supposed you didn't need just his wet hair to tell you that, as instead of smelling like sweat and being covered in dirt, fake blood, and God knows what else, you could smell his cologne from where you laid. In his hands were a bouquet of roses and a box of your favorite chocolates. Even if he had to work at the ass crack of dawn, Colt would never forget to buy you flowers and a sweet treat for Valentine's Day. 

"Are those for me?" You questioned, already knowing the answer, but effectively snapping him back to reality. 

Colt nearly tripped over his own feet as he moved to close the distance between you. "Of course they are. Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart." 

You accepted his gifts with a wide grin on your face, taking a moment to deeply inhale the scent of fresh roses before you tossed the items to the side of the bed. There was something more important that you wanted right now. As if reading your mind, Colt's hands found their way to your sides, caressing your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. "God, you are so fucking gorgeous." He praised in a low voice before capturing your lips in a steamy kiss. "What did I do to deserve you?" He murmured softly as he pulled away, burying his nose into the crook of your neck and planting kisses there. 

"I can think of a few things." You responded teasingly, a smirk pulling at your lips. 

A huff of hot air tickled your skin as he laughed against you, sending a chill down your spine. "Oh, yeah? Care to name them?" He asked curiously as he maneuvered both of you back onto the bed until he was hovering over you, caging you in on the bed with his body. 

You hummed softly. "If I tell you, you have to do each and every one of them." 

"Sounds like a good time to me." He responded against your skin, continuing his assault on your neck. By now, his soft pecks had turned into open-mouthed kisses, suckling and biting in all of the right spots. You could feel your arousal growing.

A chuckle escaped from you, soon followed by a moan as one of his hands came to palm your left breast. The satin fabric you wore barely covered you and his thumb quickly found your nipple, rubbing it in circles. Your brain short-circuited at the addition for a moment, completely forgetting that you were supposed to be giving a list of things he's done to deserve you. That is, until he gave your nipple a somewhat harsh pinch and cleared his throat to gain your attention again. "Well?" 

The twinge of pain had you crying out in response, but he quickly soothed it away by continuing his earlier movements and it blended into pleasure. "Oh, right." You began, searching your brain for what you had planned to say just moments ago. "Uh, that thing I like that you do with your tongue." 

Colt hummed softly in return. "That thing, huh?" He questioned as he promptly began pressing his open-mouthed kisses down your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut to enjoy the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin as he lifted the bow tied around your chest, pulling each nipple into his mouth before continuing his journey down your body. He didn't stop until he reached right above your panties. "So, you really like that thing I do with my tongue, or just sorta like it?" He asked teasingly, his breath cascading over your lower stomach. 

You couldn't help the small smile that spread across your face at his teasing. You loved how playful he could be while working you up, and sometimes even pushing you right over the edge. "Mmm, I really like it." 

Satisfied with your answer, Colt moved lower, only to finally realize that you were wearing crotchless panties. "Fuck." He whined under his breath, unable to restrain himself from sliding his hands under your ass and using his thumbs to part you open for him. The action caused you to gasp and sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. A moment later and his tongue is lapping at your folds, groaning at the taste of you. 

The moment he touches you, a moan is falling from your lips. He circles your clit slowly, drawing more moans from you before sliding his tongue down to your entrance and plunging inside. "God, yes." You cry out, your hands threading through his still damp hair to ground yourself. This was exactly what you had wanted.

As he thrusts his tongue in and out of you, his nose brushes perfectly against your clit. You can't even help the fact that within moments you start grinding against his face, and from the sound of it, Colt certainly doesn't seem to mind. He loved to get off to your pleasure and the muffled groans he let out while buried between your thighs proved it. It didn't take long before you felt your orgasm building within you. Colt alternated between circling your clit, sucking on it gently, and fucking you with his tongue. His big, calloused, hands kept you spread apart from him as you arched into his touch, trying to feel him even deeper inside of you. It was a wonder if he could breathe, but you knew the stuntman was plenty skilled at holding his breath. 

Colt felt your orgasm approaching and knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge. Two of his fingers slid inside of you with no resistance as his tongue began to focus on swirling around your clit. He hooked his middle and ring finger just the right way, pressing up into that spongy tissue that every man prior to Colt struggled to find. Within seconds you reached your peak, your climax washing over you in waves as he continued his ministrations, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible. Your walls clenched around his fingers a few more times before he finally pulled himself free. 

As you came down from your high, you reopened your eyes just in time to watch him suck his fingers clean. Fighting to regain your breath, you focused on the lower half of his face that was covered in your arousal and a smug smirk. "So, what else have I done to deserve you?"  He asked with a brow raised, his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see any of the blue that you dearly loved.

A breathless giggle escaped from you. "I don't know, it's a pretty long list..." You trailed off, teasingly. 

Colt's smirk widens into a grin as he moves up to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. "I can go all night, baby." 

And without a doubt, you know that he will. 

[benz12313]

Love's Surprise Pt. 2 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dating for months now, and it's your first Valentine's Day together? What does he think about the gifts you have prepared for him? Will you two enjoy yourselves?

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, oral female receiving, oral male recieving, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drug use/smoking churum, aphrodisiac chocolate consumption, established relationship, mating press (but no breeding kink usage), slight dom behavior, use of 'good girl', unprotected sex,

Part 1/2

Authors Note: This took me waaaay too long to write but goddamn was it worth it in the end. I just couldn't stop writing. I could've kept going but nearly 4,000 words is a lot man! I hope you all enjoyed this fic and had a great Valentine's Day! :)

Word Count: 3,917

I hastily locked the door to my room behind us, and Ridoc’s hands squeezed my waist from where he stood between me and my bed, where the remainder of his gifts still laid. At least the ones I wasn’t wearing. I turned in his arms and his mouth was suddenly on mine, as he gently backed me up into my door. His hand moved between my back and the door, making sure it was barely a caress, and effectively caring for my sore back. 

My sore back that I’d forgotten was even there, but he hadn’t. No, he never forgot shit like that. Always acutely aware of how I was doing, what injuries I’d sustained. Even minor ones like bruises. My gods, I love this man. I love him. I love him. I love him. 

Ever since we’d said it, the thought had consumed me, like I was finally allowed to talk about this grand secret I’d been keeping firmly locked away, even from myself. 

He tugged my face closer as he wound a hand through my hair, and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I moaned as he deepened the kiss, and pulled him in, my arms wrapping around his neck as I arched closer. Always closer. I could never seem to be close enough to Ridoc. 

“Love,” He panted, voice deeper than before, making my body warm. He detached himself from my mouth, though reluctantly. “Before I totally lose sight of the point of coming up here…” He grinned cockily. “And before I really get my hands on you…what exactly did you want to show me?”

“Well, two go together, and then I have a fourth…more permanent item for you.” I said, suddenly a bit bashful. The first two, I knew he would like, but the fourth? The fourth was definitely more…sentimental. And the fourth was the one I’d have to give him first. 

“I’m a little confused but I think I like where this is going.” He chuckled, face softening. “Whatever you’ve got, I’m sure that I’ll like. No need to be nervous Y/N.”

Sometimes I hate that he knows me so well. I sighed before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. Gesturing for him to sit before sliding onto the bed myself and gripping the package box. I took a deep breath and opened it, quickly scanning the items left. The dozen little chocolates, the two churam joints, and then the item I was truly afraid of in this box. The little compass necklace I’d had Violet commission for me. 

I delicately took it out, and handed it to him, face quickly turning crimson. He locked eyes with me, a smile creeping onto his face before he opened it, and his jaw went slack. On the inside was us, a remarkable drawing of us anyway, him holding me in his arms. I’d done the picture myself, and it had nearly brought me to tears as I’d seen it in its entirety for the first time. The words ‘To always be able to find your way back home’ were carved in the metal in scrawling cursive. 

He let his fingertips gently skim the etching in the metal, and tears formed in the corners of his eyes for a moment, though never spilling out as he just stared. And stared. And stared. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest by the time his eyes met mine again; warmth and love and just happiness oozing from them. “I love you.” His voice cracked, and he fisted the compass, chain dangling, before he surged forward and wrapped me in his arms. 

“It’s perfect. I don’t care about whatever else you’ve got in that magic box of yours. This?” He pulled back, gesturing to the compass. “This is perfect. I love how cheesy-“

“Hey!” I protested and he put his finger on my lips, shushing me. 

“It is, but it’s so fucking perfect Y/N. But that’s us. I wouldn’t want anything different.” He whispered, before taking it and pulling it over his head, letting it fall onto his chest, a smile pulling at my lips. “Thank you.” He whispered. 

“Your welcome Love,” I teased a small bit, using his new nickname. While his cheeks tinted (leaving me smirking), his eyes darkened, narrowing in on me. 

“Say that again, and you won’t get to finish giving me your gifts, love.” I bit my lip, trying to fight back the smirk growing on my face. Something he easily clocked, eyes jumping from the box to me. “What else is in there Y/N? Anything good?”

“A few little things.” I said, playing coy, fluttering my eyelashes at him innocently. Something I knew would drive him nuts. “Nothing too special.”

He licked his lips, eyes trained on my mouth, before snapping back up to my own. “Oh?” He asked.

“Just a few aphrodisiac chocolates and some churam, you know, to help us ease into my last gift. After all,” I paused, sending him a quick wink, “I’m feeling very appreciative for your gift, Ridoc.”

“And this last gift you keep mentioning?” He asked, leaning in. I leaned back, out of his reach though, moving off the bed completely as I gathered my courage. The locket was the hard part. This? Giving in to my carnal desires for Ridoc? This was easy compared to baring my soul to him. 

I positioned myself in front of him and his hands reached for me, but I swatted them away. “Patience.” He looked ready to argue, but I continued, making him pause. “Give me a minute to undress first, jeez. Gotta let me show you your present after all.” 

I didn’t wait for him to respond before I unzipped my flight jacket. Revealing the baby blue lacy bra underneath, with the see-through white top over it, gently sitting on my skin in that delicate way that I knew would drive him mad. He licked his lips hungrily, eyes following my hands as I unzipped my pants before slowly pulling them down my legs, bending over in front of him. Suddenly his eyes were on my breasts, and I tilted my head at him questioningly, teasingly. My lacy panties were the same baby blue color, and nearly as see through as my top was. Once I’d forgone all unnecessary clothes, I stepped forward again, reveling in the quickness in which his hands found my ass and pulled me forward into him. 

“Gods, love,” This time was a choked groan as he roughly palmed my ass. I could get used to this nickname, I really could. Every time he said it my core just ached in the most delicious way. “This color, this fabric-“ He kissed across my stomach, the fabric catching between his mouth and my skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that I hadn’t expected. “Fuck…it looks so good on you Princess.” 

“You like it?” I asked and he smiled widely at me, taking my hand and putting it on his crotch, where his cock jolted with my touch, already more than halfway hard. 

“I love it.” He said, “All of it. All of you. Good luck leaving this room for the weekend, because you aren’t going anywhere now.”

I whined. Fucking whined, at his words. Then, without thinking, dropped to my knees between his legs. His mouth fell slack for a split second before his mouth curved into a cocky grin. 

“Oh, is that what you want? Me to fuck you senseless this entire weekend? Smoke and play with that pretty pussy you’ve wrapped up so fucking nicely for me? Feed each other chocolates until you’re begging for me to let you cum, over and over and over again?” He gently pushed back my hair out of my face, his thumbs lingering and stroking over my cheeks. “And you wanna kick it all off by shoving my fat cock down your pretty little throat?”

“Yes please.” I whined, rubbing my thighs together for friction, failingly trying to release the tension built there. 

“Hands on my thighs please love.” My hands moved quickly, grounding myself in him as he leaned back, grabbing the box, and pulling out the joints and the bag of chocolate before tossing the box on the floor again. His eyes met mine, the dominating side of him shimmering just below the surface of his irises. The side of him I only got to see when it was just the two of us, alone and locked in our room together. 

“Colors, you know them right?” He asked and I nodded, but his eyes narrowed. “Words sweet girl. I know you can use them.”

“Green, Orange, Red.” He nodded, but raised his eyebrow, urging me to continue. “Green for good, orange for checking in, and red for stop.”

“Good girl. Now, stick out your tongue. Don’t close your mouth until I tell you to.” He said and I obliged as he pulled a chocolate out of the bag, biting off half and eating it before setting it on my tongue. The chocolate let out a burst of flavor on my tongue, even more so than the s’mores had earlier. 

He watched as the chocolate melted, dripping down the sides of my tongue slowly before dripping onto the tops of my breasts. He licked his lips then met my eyes again. “Eat it.” He commanded before leaning down and pulling me close, licking off the chocolate on my boobs as I ate what was left, moans tumbling out of my throat. His arms wrapped around my back, caging me in before letting me go again just as quickly, grateful for my hands still on his thighs steadying me. 

He tossed the candy onto the bed and put one of the joints on the side table before pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and sparking it up. Three puffs in and he motioned me forwards, before tapping his finger on my mouth. Shotgunning. We didn’t smoke often, normally just special occasions, but when I showed him this on Christmas Eve he’d gone insane for it. 

I pressed my mouth to his, gladly accepting the earthy smoke, letting it fill my lungs as he kissed me. I pulled back when I couldn’t hold it any longer, letting out the now stale remnants of the hit he’d taken. My body went fuzzy, a haze lightly slipping over me as that first wave of calm hit. He pressed the joint to my lips and I sucked in; this hit was more substantial, more raw, and suddenly my mouth was back on Ridoc’s as he gladly accepted my smokey offering. But when he pulled back I wanted more, the aching in my thighs coming back to the forefront of my mind as my attention was brought back to his cock, which looked like it was straining against the fabric of his pants. 

“One more hit pretty girl, and a full chocolate, then you can have it, promise.” He teased, and my eyes snapped back up to his to see the playful look he was giving me, though his eyes were lidded now, and his smirk was lazy. Churam always hit him faster than me. He took his hit before passing the joint back to me, and leaning back to retrieve the chocolates again. 

I took my hit, savoring it as he got two chocolates and plopped one in his mouth before trading me the other one for the joint. I ate mine as I watched him use his signet to turn the red hot end of the joint go black in an instant, and then swallowed, humming when done. He grinned as I lolled my tongue out, letting him see I’d eaten it. Then his hands moved in a flash, and the next second his pants were at his ankles, his hard shaft resting on his stomach, unable to stand on its own with the weight of him. 

“Hands on my thighs Y/N, mouth only this time. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He assured, his hands making my hair into a makeshift ponytail, before consolidating it all to his left hand. He leaned back, resting on his right hand before nodding at me. “Go on now, ya’ wanted to suck it so fucking bad? Suck it then Princess.” 

I dipped my head, kitten licking the tip, licking a few stripes up the side of him, letting all the drool I’d been swallowing back lube him up. And then I let lose, taking all of him to the back of my throat and gagging around him, and I moaned at the guttural groan he’d released. Then I was bobbing my head up and down, eating up every moan, groan and gasp he gave me, my fingertips eating into his thighs as I lost myself on his cock. 

He tasted so good; salty, musky and that little bit that was just Ridoc, in the most delicious way. The way praise just dripped off his tongue with every bob of my head. The way his dick would jump every time I’d take him as deep as I could, itching to just get a little bit deeper. Gods, I would crawl to just lick this mans dick, which is more than I can say for any other before him. Much more. I’m lost in the way he tastes, sounds, and feels beneath me, practically writhing in pleasure as he struggles to stay still. I know he’s holding back, desperately trying to let me lead even though he wants to thrust up into me.  

When I looked up I realized he had taken his shirt off, abs glistening in the low light and frost built up on the ends of the curls threatening to block his gorgeous eyes. Good, I’m not the only one losing myself here. His breath was coming out in pants, clouding in front of him before it’d dissipate just as fast. Then, his eyes met mine, and his control slipped as the grip on my hair tightened and he slammed me down, making me take his dick into my mouth in full tears springing to the corners of my eyes as I gagged. 

Then he was thrusting up into me, the babble dripping off his tongue letting me know he was close. 

“Fuck babe, how is that mouth of yours so fucking good?” Thrust. “Just as good as your pussy, I fucking swear.” Thrust. “Want me to cum down that pretty throat huh?” Thrust. “Fuck, love, you suck me so good.” Thrust. “So good’f’me, letting me fuck you how I please.” Thrust. “Fuck…babe…m’close.” Thrust. “Gods, don’t look at me like that, givin’ me doe eyes like I don’t have my cock down your throat, and giving me those pretty little tears.” Thrust. “Shit- I’m- FUCK!“ 

He hissed, thrust twice more and stilled as he painted the back of my throat, holding me to the base of him by my hair until he finished cumming and felt me finish swallowing around him, and then pulling me back off his dick hastily. He looked absolutely debauched, chest heaving, hair sticking to his skin and his fingertips were freezing where they’d started lazily stroking my cheeks again. It felt good on my too-hot skin, the aphrodisiac having hit me in full force now, leaving me aching and needing his touch. He licked his lips as he looked down at me, pleasure awash over his features as he scanned me with too-black eyes. He was already completely hard again. 

“Fuck, Y/N, get on this bed now,” It was a growled order, not a request, “I need my mouth on you.” He wasn’t waiting though, already pulling me to my feet before him, and I hastily crawled over him and onto the bed, barely laying on my back before his mouth attached to mine. He easily gained dominance, tongue slipping into my mouth as his hands wandered my body, cooling everywhere they touched and sending my pleasure skyrocketing. Perks of being an ice user I guess, you’ve got built in ice fingers when you lose a large amount of control. I definitely wasn’t complaining as his fingers began rubbing over my clothed clit, pulling a gasp from me as his mouth pulled from mine and he looked down to his hand. 

“Fuck babe, you’re fucking soaked.” He was right of course, but I was still about to complain, until he kissed down my neck and groaned when he reached my collarbone. “Gods, how are you this wet already?”

“Ridoc please…” I whined through the pleasure he was giving me, which felt so good yet not enough. 

“Use your words Princess,” He chided, mouth nipping at my neck. 

“Please, I need your-“ I let out a moan when he added pressure, “F-fingers, mouth, anything, just please, it hurts.” I whined again and he leaned back onto his knees, stopping all movement, making me pout.

“You asked so nicely, so good’f’me, always huh?” He mused before settling his head between my thighs and pulling my panties to the side. “My pretty girl asks for what she wants, so well, always such a good girl.” He mused before licking up what slick had collected from his words. He moaned and licked again, the vibrations making the pleasure heighten and leaving me gasping, hands threading into his soft locks as he kitten licked my cunt. “Fingers or tongue beautiful?” 

“Both," I gasped and he chuckled darkly, making me clench around nothing. 

“That’s my girl. Always so greedy f’me.” He sucked on my clit suddenly and harshly, making me cry out. “Ask and you shall receive Y/N.” 

And receive I did. It was all I could do as he descended upon me. Mouth alternating between harshly sucking on my clit and then barely licking, while two of his ice cold fingers pumped into me, starting a punishing pace as he curled and prodded with his fingers, a harsh contrast to the overwhelming warmth of my dripping pussy. It felt so euphoric though, the only thing keeping me here and not on cloud nine were his eyes, dutifully holding my own in their gaze, and watching me absolutely unravel before him. 

Between the aphrodisiac setting every nerve alright within me, the churam heightening my pleasure, and then just everything that was Ridoc, absolutely devouring me; the knot of pleasure in my core wound tighter with every second. Everything building, building, building, until I was right on that precipice, waiting for the fall, but never quite tumbling over. 

Ridoc knew it too. In fact, the bastard was orchestrating it. Bringing me right there and then cleverly shifting focus, right when he knew I was nearly there, prolonging my pleasure and denying me it in the same breath. He was too skilled, and much too acquainted with my body at this point, not to know exactly what he was doing. 

“Ridoc.” I warned, or moaned, not really sure. He hummed, acknowledging my plight but continuing to do as he pleased, bringing me right to the edge before denying me again. “Ridoc, please! Please let me cum, I can’t take anymore!”

“Almost love, you can take a few more.” He said, voice soothing but words near torture. There was no way, I was shaking now, and ready to continue begging for release some more. His eyes softened as they quickly scanned mine. “If you really need it, use your colors.” He reminded me. “Until then though, just a few more.” I nodded but whined anyway when he denied my next three orgasms. 

He wrapped an arm around the back of my thigh and pressed down on my stomach, then curled his fingers and sucked harshly on my clit, and then I was cumming. Without warning, so sudden, and making the heat in my body skyrocket until all I could feel was white-hot pleasure as I cried out Ridoc’s name. The only word I could form was his, all I knew was him. 

I’d barely come down when he sat up, looking over my body as he sucked his fingers clean. Then he grabbed my hips, and used one of his hands to scoop up my release and pump it over his length, before pulling my underwear to the side again and aligning it with my entrance. He looked as feral as I felt; despite both of us having found release once already, all I could think was more, more, more. 

His cheeks were pink, and eyes lidded as he watched himself push inside me before they snapped up to mine when I let out a breathy sigh as the first few inches of him sunk inside me. Loving that first delicious stretch as he slowly, lazily, thrust in and out, sinking in a bit deeper each time, until he’d stilled and completely bottomed out within me. 

Full. Complete. Whole. Thats all I could feel beyond pleasure. 

Ridoc must’ve too because he rested one hand on my cheek as the other hand wrapped around my back, cradling me. “Fuck Princess, this never gets old.” He whispered against my lips as he began lazily thrusting again, pace slow and savoring. “You’re so tight, and soft, and warm. Fuck, I love you.” He groaned before picking up the pace, slow and lazy thrusts turning hard and punishing. Causing me to cry out and wrap my arms and legs around his back, bringing us closer. Bringing him deeper. 

I wanted to say it back, I really did, but I couldn’t with his relentless pace, never giving me a second to breath. With the way he pushed deeper, reaching places only he had ever delved. Taking parts of me only he had ever possessed. Pleasure built until I was gasping, and maybe begging?

I didn’t know what was leaving my mouth exactly, but Ridoc was sweetly smoothing my hair and cooing out something soothing as he continued to fuck me into my mattress without reprieve. Words no longer registered in my brain, just him and this bottomless hunger for pleasure that never seemed to be satisfied. 

Not until he’d had enough nonsense and he folded me into the meanest mating press nearly folded in on myself, still thrusting harshly, barely missing a beat, even though I could tell by his shaking hips that he was close. Five thrusts and then I was sent flying over that edge again screaming something I couldn’t understand, absolutely ripped apart by pleasure, tears streaming down my face the moment I came. A few more thrusts and he stilled inside me, warmth filling me as the pleasure dulled into oversensitivity. He released me, but stayed inside as he leaned down and kissed me, before wiping my tears away. 

“How are you feeling beautiful?” His voice was soft, like it always was when I began crying from the overwhelm that came with that intense level of pleasure. 

“Green.” I gasped out. “But….need….a….break.”

“Me too. Smoke, have some refreshments, then go again?” He asked, before quickly pecking my lips before I could answer. 

I nodded. “Yeah. I love you.”

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, ear to ear and entirely too smug. “I know, you screamed it when you came around my cock. Good thing I love you too, cause that would’ve been embarrassing otherwise.” He gave me another kiss to pacify me. “Now lets refuel, because I’m not nearly done with you yet."

~ Want to be added to the tag list? Just comment or message me! :)

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

[inawickedlittletown]

We've Got A Long Way To Go (BuckTommy) -9/?

Summary: A few months after the break up, Buck picks up a call that changes everything. Tommy has his own regrets, and an unexpected meeting and a change in Buck's life will bring them together. Fix-it fic.

Words: 2.1k

Read on Ao3

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight

-

Chapter Nine

When he got off the phone with Evan, it was a bit later than he’d expected. Tommy didn’t mind. He wished the call had gone on for longer, but Lucas had woken up and Evan had rightfully said a quick goodbye. Tommy didn’t even care that it meant he’d be getting a lot less sleep than he’d planned to before his shift. He’d missed Evan far more than he’d even allowed himself to admit. 

Right after the break up, Tommy had had every intention of grabbing anything Evan had left behind and putting it in a box to pass along to him. There actually wasn’t much stuff considering Tommy was usually the one going to Evan’s place. He never did go through the trouble. Three months in the things remained where they were or they had gotten — in the case of Evan’s clothes — mixed into Tommy’s own wardrobe. They’d never fit Tommy, but he liked the idea that Evan still existed in his life somehow even if it was just a couple of shirts and a hoodie.

It was almost like if Tommy wished for it enough, Evan would just walk right into his life again and they could pick things right back up. That was not going to happen. He hadn’t seriously believed it would before, but now there was a kid to think of. Evan had far more on his plate than to deal with Tommy. He deserved so much more. 

Getting to work the next day, he could almost push away thoughts of Evan and Lucas. It wasn’t a slow day, but it wasn’t overtly busy either. He got a few flights out to help with a stranded hiker, then a medevac for a heart attack.

“You’re kinda distracted today,” Lucy said over lunch. 

He hadn’t heard from Evan all day, not that he’d been expecting to. It just felt…well, it felt like he was being left out of the loop somehow even though he knew that Evan knew he was on shift. Evan was probably busy too. 

“Tommy?” Lucy asked. 

Tommy hadn’t planned on sharing anything with Lucy, but he had to talk to someone and she was probably his best bet. 

“Remember the kid from our last shift?” 

“Yeah,” Lucy said. 

“I, uh, I wanted to make sure he was alright. Both parents gone and everything.” 

She nodded along. “And?”

Tommy took a breath. “His name is Lucas. He’s Evan’s son.” 

Lucy’s mouth fell open and she blinked at him a few times. “Come again? Buck has a kid? A kid whose parents died. Wait, did he even know? How do you know? Kinard, this is tea. Piping hot tea and you kept it from me.” 

Tommy ducked his head and chuckled. The whole thing was kinda ridiculous.

“He’s biologically Evan’s son, but only because he was a sperm donor so his friends could have a baby. He’s taking custody of him, though.” 

“Wow,” Lucy said. “That’s insane. So I take it you went to check on the kid and ran into Buck?” 

Tommy nodded. 

“And how did that go?” 

“Surprisingly well,” Tommy said. 

The other shoe would drop eventually, though. If Tommy had any hope of even staying friends with Evan they would need to talk about it or it would fester. Talking to Howie had given him some insights into how Evan had been after the break up and it was nothing like what Tommy had expected. 

“That’s good,” Lucy said. 

“But it’s really over, you know,” Tommy said. 

“What does that even mean?” 

Tommy shrugged. “He has a kid. That’s his priority now and I’m not going to complicate everything with all my bullshit, Lucy. I can’t. And maybe it’s for the best. Maybe one day he’ll meet someone that will—”

Lucy punched his arm. “Now that is some bullshit,” she said. “I can see it all over your face, you already care for his kid. You didn’t stop caring for Buck. Yeah, a kid complicates things, but you’ve been heartbroken for months over Buck so it’s not going away. Why don’t you actually talk to him? Clear things up and go from there?” 

It would be too hard. It might change everything and the very slimmer of hope that Tommy had gotten that maybe they could become friends and stay in each other’s lives would die away and Tommy would have nothing again. Did he even have anything at all? 

“I don’t know,” Tommy said. 

“Think about it, Tommy, because you’re right, one day he might meet someone that wants to stick around that wants to settle down with him and that kid and then you won’t get a chance to say a thing.” 

-

It was late in the morning when Lucas was finally discharged. The doctor took a last look at him and signed off. The worst of his scratches were already scabbing over and the bruises looked a lot worse than they actually were. Buck was given instructions on how to care for the arm in the cast and he could tell that Lucas was even more sore than the day before. 

“It’ll help if he moves around a bit more,” the nurse at the desk told him. “Children’s tylenol will help with any pain, but only if he needs it. And you have your appointment for when he gets his cast off all set.” 

“That’s what the doctor said,” Buck said. 

“Good luck,” the nurse said. “You and your boyfriend are going to do great.” 

Buck just smiled and nodded. If only he did still have a boyfriend to help him with all of it. He headed back to the room and found Lucas sitting on the edge of the bed, teddy bear clutched in his arms. Karen, holding all of their belongings, smiled at Buck. Lucas seemed a bit wary, but then he had met a lot of people in the last twenty-four hours. He hardly even knew Buck for that matter. He must have realized, though, that they were leaving the hospital room. 

“I guess that means we’re ready to go,” Karen said. 

“Yup. Hopefully Hen got the car seat situated.” 

Lucas looked at him. “Where mama?” 

It broke Buck’s heart to hear the question. He didn’t know quite how to have this conversation. 

“Where dada?” 

“Lucas,” Buck said, “your mama and dada aren’t…they aren’t with us anymore.”

He shot a look at Karen and she seemed to realize that he really didn’t have this. Lucas looked confused and maybe it was because Buck wasn’t actually saying it. They died. They were dead. Lucas was never going to see them again. He felt Karen’s hand fall on his shoulder. She mouthed ‘you got this’ at him. 

“Lucas, they died,” Buck said. 

Did Lucas even know what that meant? Had Connor or Kameron ever talked about death with him? Was that even a concept that a kid that age could take or was this the first time he was encountering it? 

“It means that they’re gone. You were in an accident, it’s why your arm is in a cast. Your mommy and daddy died so now you’re coming home with me.”

“No mama. No dada?”

“No, honey. They were hurt bad.”

Lucas pointed at his cast. “Me?” 

“Worse,” Buck said. “They didn’t wake up. I’m so sorry.” 

Maybe it was his tone, or maybe it was that Lucas did understand, but he started to cry. It brought Buck right back to last night. 

He’d been on the phone with Tommy. He’d told him more about Connor and how meeting him in Peru had eventually led to Buck moving to LA and becoming a firefighter. He’d told him all about the house they shared with four other guys that was little more than a frat house. He and Connor had been kids back then, running around LA to clubs and bars and picking up women left and right without a care in the world. Buck had outgrown that eventually when he really took being a firefighter seriously and especially once he and Abby got together. He didn’t talk about Abby, knew it would open up a whole can of worms that might destroy the line of communication that had been opened between them. Instead, he’d told him about having Kameron stay at the loft and how much Buck had liked her. 

Lucas had started squirming a little in bed and then he started making whimpering noises and then he cried out. Buck had said a quick goodbye to Tommy, reaching for Lucas to wake him even as he dropped his phone on the bed carelessly. 

Lucas woke up at once, shaking and whimpering still. He’d curled into himself, so Buck didn’t try to touch him. Buck did realize that he was crying, though, face wet with tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. 

“Lucas, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?” 

Lucas whimpered, but nodded. “Mama?” 

“It’s just me, Lucas. Just Evan. Can I give you a hug? Would that help?” 

Lucas took his time before he nodded, uncurling and opening his arms as if asking for Buck to pick him up. Buck did, gently situating him in his arms before he sat down on the bed, conscious of the tiny arm in the cast. 

“Do you want to tell me what was scary?” 

Lucas shook his head. 

“Was there a monster? Or a ghost?”

Lucas shook his head. Buck reached for a tissue and he helped to gently wipe Lucas’ face, careful of the scratches he’d gotten during the accident. 

“Was it a big dog? Or a bear? Or, I know, a crocodile?” 

“No,” Lucas said, already calming down. 

“Not any of that. Alright, then, but it was something scary?”

Lucas said what sounded like a ‘yes’ as he snuggled closer into Buck, his little head fitting into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Well, I know nightmares can be scary. I have them sometimes, but they’re not real. Nothing is going to get you, Lucas. Not while I’m around.” 

Lucas didn’t let him go and for a while, Buck just talked to him. He told him about being a firefighter and Lucas fell asleep on him and Buck didn’t know how to let go, so he didn’t. He held him and let him sleep, even grabbing his blanket to cover him. Buck didn’t know when he drifted off, but when he woke again it was to Lucas squirming to get out of Buck’s hold. 

Buck let him roll off of him and Lucas laid down next to him, blinking at him. 

“You okay?” 

Lucas tried to nod. 

“Do you need something? No? Did you have another bad dream?”

Lucas shook his head. He didn’t look like he’d be falling back into sleep, but then Buck figured that he’d probably spent more hours sleeping over the last day than he was used to. 

“How about we read a book?”

Lucas sat up at that. Buck chuckled. He rolled off the bed and went to the bag Maddie had brought earlier. He grabbed one of the books. Goodnight Moon. He’d read it to Jee enough times and maybe Lucas would enjoy it too. 

He brought it over. “This one alright?” 

“Yes,” Lucas said with a nod. 

Buck arranged himself so that Lucas could see the book and he began to read. Lucas did not fall asleep by the end, but he seemed content to lay on the bed and have Buck read it from the start again. 

Buck had been able to help with the bad dream — one that he hoped wasn’t related to the accident — but to actually present Lucas with the reality of his parents being dead felt far more difficult. He grabbed for a tissue and tipped Lucas’ chin up. Lucas stared back at him with eyes that were far too familiar and definitely full of tears.

Lucas reached for him and Buck picked him up, hugging him and rubbing his back as he hiccuped and cried some more. 

“It’s going to be hard and you’re going to miss them lots and that’s okay. They loved you so much, Lucas, and we can hold onto that even if they’re not around anymore. But, all they wanted was for you to be happy and hopefully I can help with that,” Buck said. 

Buck met Karen’s eyes and she smiled sadly at him. Buck set Lucas back down on the bed. He was sniffling a little still. 

“Now, it’s time we get out of here,” Buck said. 

“Teddy too?” 

“Of course.” 

He wiped Lucas’ face as best as he could one more time. 

“Do you want to walk, or can I carry you?” Buck asked. 

Lucas responded by lifting his arms, cast and all, towards Buck. Buck picked him up again, already sure he loved the way that Lucas seemed to fit into his arms. When he looked at Karen, she was wiping her eyes. She gave his arm a squeeze as they walked out. 

[dykedvonte]

I think it’s so ironic that the Pony Express escapes a lot if not all blame in discussion. I can’t even say I am excused from it but it’s just how hard people circle back to the characters alone without considering the environment they were made to be in.

Why would they design a ship where only two of the rooms lock? Not the bathroom? Not the sleeping quarters? We assume that all the companies in the universe are this shallow and careless to their workers but we explicitly know the Pony Express in extra vile. They are fed processed slop pack they can’t even really cook and the ration of those pack is meager at best. They hired and made people with a plethora of conflicting demeanors and beliefs work together on a mission where cohesion is important if not an outright necessity and punish them for not being happy about it. There’s no social protocols, not chain of command other than Captain’s word/choice and the only way to enforce that is with a literal firearm. They don’t allow them to celebrate freely and even took away leisure activities that would make them less stir crazy. They are only allowed a few hours of sleep despite their being no other real responsibilities or work on the ship, no matter the position or its importance. With any crew, with any level of synergy, this was a powder keg waiting for a spark.

I’m not saying characters that made mistakes didn’t make huge ones, but I think part of the horror is that at least for some (this is targeting Jimathan) those mistakes are partly made by a force of the hand. There’s a running theme of lack of choice and being forced into something and the very nature of how The Pony Express expected them to function plays a big part.

[muffingnf]

forever thinking about how nothing will be the same as before this situation and george won't be the same ever again. i just hope he will take of his mental health after this, no matter what it takes, even if it means he will be far more distanced

anon this is seriously making me suicidal

on a real note i mostly worry about how this will impact his ability to form connections and make relationships with other people. like imagine feeling too cautious to go near non-ccs because oh god what if theyre a secret fan or what if they put something online and ‘expose’ me. but then u can’t go near fellow cc’s either because you cannot tell who has genuine intentions and who just wants to fuck you over later down the line. and none of this is even shit fans like me should even be thinking about i cannot stress enough how none of this should’ve been public and i feel so fucking bad for him that he’s had to be so publicly vulnerable after being so private his whole career.

on another note i suppose dnf will be trauma bonded for life now

[actual-corpse]

Just got a rude reminder about how great it is to never have children/ be an only child.

There's too much drama involved with dying, apparently.

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[shadowglens]

siggi and finan are married right before the start of season 4, after becoming close during the time jump.

[sskk-manifesto]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[s0dium]

Stalker

A/n: I hope you enjoy

Warning: Stalker!Gojo, dub con, fingering, pussy drunk Gojo, unprotected sex, peeping tom, male masturbation, breeding

As the strongest sorcerer alive, Gojo Satoru knows he should be the epitome of justice, the defender of what's right. So out of all people Gojo Satoru should know that what he is doing is wrong. Very wrong.

Yet despite this he cant help but be drawn to you, linger around you, stalk you. He finds himself drawn to the places you frequent, learning the rhythm of your life, memorizing the small details that make you, you. The coffee shop where you start your morning, the park bench where you read during your lunch break, the dimly lit street you walk down on your way home. In his mind, a narrative builds—a story where he is a part of your world, where his presence matters to you as much as yours has inexplicably come to matter to him.

For a time, Gojo convinces himself that he can be satisfied merely as a shadow in your life, lingering on the periphery, unseen yet ever-present. But as each day passes, witnessing your coworker's blatant glances towards you, Jesus, the short skimpy clothes you wear, the delicate balance begins to fracture. The urge to step out from the shadows and into the light is starting to grow to hard to resist.

The tension reaches its crescendo one evening as he watches from your window—a routine that has become his dark solace. You're preparing for bed, the familiar motions shadowed in the dim light. As you slip under the covers, a sudden sound pierces the silence: moans, soft and whining, drift through the air.

Are you, touching yourself?

Gojo freezes, his heart stuck in his throat. He doesnt know what to do. The sound of your moans cuts through the stillness, sending his heart into a frantic rhythm and hout blood coursing to his dick.

"Fuck." He groans, feeling his member strain against his black pants. His resolve is slowly snapping by the second. With a mixture of urgency and caution, he silently eases the window open and slips into the room.

Shit shit shit.

He approaches your bed, his breath is held tight in his chest as he takes in the sight before him. Your face is contorted in pleasure, lips slightly parted, a soft pant escaping them—each detail more intoxicating than the last. Under the covers your hand shifts, fingers moving back and forth. His heart hammers against his ribs, disbelief mingling with raw emotion as he realizes you're completely absorbed in your own world, unaware of his presence.

It's not until he looms over you that you finally sense another presence, snapping your eyes open to gasp, "Who are you?"

"Shhh baby I'm not here to hurt you I promise," Gojo whispers, a gentle yet firm assurance in his tone, "I'm here to help you okay? You can call me Satoru."

Confusion flickers across your face as you stammer, "What I don't—" Your instinct is to retreat, but he gently pins you down, his hands firm yet careful.

"It's okay, it's okay, baby," he soothes, his tone meant to calm and reassure you in the soft darkness.

Unsure why, you find yourself yielding to the comforting timbre of his voice, allowing him to press tender, feathery kisses along your chin.

"I'm gonna make you feel better better ok?" He hums and you're too engrossed in the feeling of his kisses on your skin that you barely notice he is pulling your underwear down your legs.

"Wait, i don't, this is-" you stutter but your words melt away as soon as you feel his warm touch on your stomach. Shit, you know you should resist, you know how wrong this is—a stranger in your room, touching you in such an intimate manner. Yet, there he is, devastatingly handsome under the shadowy caress of the night, his piercing blue eyes locking with yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. His voice, smooth and soothing, weaves through the thick air, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your mind, you're desperate for the relief he seems to offer.

You sharply gasp when you feel him slide a long finger between the lips of your cunt, collecting your juices before bringing them up to your sensitive clit.

"Already so wet aren't you."

Without a warning, Gojo slips a finger into your gummy walls and curls toward your belly button.

"M'Satoru!" You gasp. The foreign intrusion knocks the wind out of you and your hips instinctively buck into the air, your toe-curling from the sudden pleasure. You dont know it but Gojo is struggling to maintain his composure as well. The reality of your whines, the softness of your insides, surpasses even the wildest of his fantasies.

"This is bad baby, really bad, I don't think I can just touch you here." Gojo chokes out with a groan.

You dumbly nod, too lost in the pleasure to notice the unbuckling of Gojo’s pants. The pressure of his fat tip against your quivering hole is exhilarating and you can’t help but hold your breath as he finally pushes in. You let out a loud moan when you feel his tip smush against your cervix once he gets down to the last inch.

"Ah-Ah ah oh god," Gojo groans. He mentally curses himself that he could ever think his hand could replace the feeling of your cunt. "You feel good baby? Because I feel so good, you feel so good." Gojo is babbling now as he thrusts in and out of you.

You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed his messy kisses on your mouth made your brain grow light and fuzzy.

Gojo thinks that if there is a heaven, this is surely it. All those times watching you, following you home, fantasizing about this exact moment—none of it prepared him for the overwhelming reality of being inside you, of fucking you. He can practically feel your heartbeat sync with his, the sheer intensity of this connection he had desired since he laid eyes on you made him realize something he never did before; he needs you all to himself. forever.

Gojo uses you like his personal cock sleeve, shapes your insides and bruises your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity; ripping orgasm after orgasm from you. His balls slap against your ass with every drop and he retracts his hips until the tip pokes out to admire the sheen dripping to his base before fitting himself back into your snug walls and spilling ropes upon ropes of cum into your womb

Your body trembled from the overwhelming hotness and he smoothed a hand over your bloating stomach.

“Shhh, take it. Take it all,” he crooned.

[itsoutrageouss]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley being ready to go on his knees for his favorite nurse… but he has no idea how to show it.

Then he sees you at the pub.

It settled inside of him as a feeling of uselessness because he’s so used to knowing what to do. He takes action. He fixes things. And now he gets all flustered when you tend to his wounds, absentmindedly stroking his thigh and talking to him so so sweetly. Calling him a good boy when you finish the stitches, biting your lip as you focused on making them as neat as you could for him. He would stare at you the whole time, his cheeks heating because no one ever showed him this much care and you didn’t even seem to struggle with it- it was all natural.

You had labelled him ‘favorite patient’ in your phone but he didn’t know that. He figured you behaved like that with all the soldiers who came in- the reason you were such a good nurse.

After a well succeeded mission, the task force and the bases Staff all crowd down to the nearest pub. It was an excuse for you to finally be out of your work attire, adorning a black lacy top that made you feel sexy along with your glossy lips. He was already there, leaned back in a booth with Soap and Price as you walk in, looking around nervously.

He has to grit his teeth as he sees you. Fuck fuck fuck. This was gonna be a long night. He fisted his hands beneath the table.

This feeling of hopelessness, of not knowing what to do was so foreign that it bubbled into anger. Price frowned, noticing the rigid way his Lieutenant suddenly sat. Soap was too busy telling some story to notice anything, slamming down a hand, the beers rattling. Your colleagues crowded you into a booth that so conveniently faced him.

Why did he look at you like that? He was positively fuming, glowering, brows lowered and face set. You cowered under his gaze, eyes flickering away nervously.

His lips parted in soft surprise. Why did you look so nervous? Had he done something?

Because of course he was no clue how damn intimidating his so called love stare stare is. He follows you as you walk to the bar, leaning over, your skirt riding up. He has to blink up at the ceiling because it felt simultaneously like a gift from above, being allowed to see you like this, and like a curse from hell.

“Oh he’s down bad for her ain’t he, that fucker?” Soap exclaims, finally catching on as he lets out a hearty laugh. Simon glares.

“I think LT needs another pint” Price muses. Soap, ever the sergent he is, groans and gets up, patting Simon heavily on the shoulder before walking up to the bar next to you.

“You got him weak in the knees, Bunny” Soap grins casually, ordering the pints. It takes you a few seconds to comprehend before you lean backwards slightly, catching Simon’s gaze. This time he averts his eyes immediately. He was fucking fuming inside, not knowing how to get these feelings to go away. The only solutions he could think of were violence or sex. And violence he’s had enough of- and he’s sure the training dummies had too. Every damn night these past days he’s been punching his knuckles bloody, hoping it would satiate his restlessness. It didn’t.

And as for sex… he didn’t- well he didn’t not want that but that’s not where he wanted to start. He always threw himself into hookups or fiery flings that burned out too quickly, leaving embers he didn’t care for. He didn’t want that with you. He wanted to be genuine, slow, proper. And he had no idea how. He didn’t like not being good at things.

Your eyes stay on him, forcing his head to turn back to you. Your expression is unreadable, his fingers curling beneath the table before he rapidly stands up. You almost jolt at the action, the floor creaking from his weight as he stalks over to you and Soap, grumbling something.

Soap leaves, Simon trying to casually lean his elbows on the bar. “Just gonna wait for the pints” he tells you, then his jaw ticks because why did he say that? You probably don’t give a fuck what he’s doing there.

You smile softly, intrigued. “How’s your shoulder?”

It startled him, his head whipping to yours like you said something totally out of sorts. His shoulder? Right— It takes him way too long to answer.

“Fine. You did a good job. As always,” he said gruffly, looking down at the chipped wood of the bar, drumming his fingers impatiently.

“You look good.” The words slip past his lips, eyes quickly giving you a once over.

“I know.” He looks at you, sees a small glint in your eyes and the smile you smother. He wants to groan out loud at the sight.

A dry, almost laugh escapes him, shaking his head softly. “F’course you do.”

There’s a long, awkward silence where you both look anywhere but at each other, spines straightening, then slumping, then you both look at the bartender to keep busy.

He places your drink in front of you, three pints clattering in front of Simon. Neither of you move to take them.

“So I’m gonna go” Simon rumbles and turns, the pints clutched in his hands. He was overheating, fumbling in ever possible way he could and he couldn’t take it. You opened your mouth but he was already halfway across the room.

The pints rattle as he sits down. “So?” Soap asks as he leans forward. Simon grumbled that this isn fucking high school. But it’s not Soap he’s mad at. It’s himself. He had you right there.

You can’t focus the rest of the evening, laughing hollowly and sipping your drink with disinterest. Did he not find you interesting? It was so hard to read him that you started to doubt if he was playing with you. Maybe this was just the way he… was.

You hadn’t noticed everyone going out for a smoke. You hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you through the window like some kind of fucking stalker, only the glow from his cigarette giving colour to his shadow.

You down the rest of your drink, pulling your coat around you. The night is crispy, air poking your cheeks like needles.

“Are you ever going to ask me out? Because if not then I’d like to know- I don’t really know if you don’t like me or if I scare you or if there’s something entirely different at play but you cannot just stare at me and expe-“ a cold, chapped pair of lips silence you. They’re gone as quickly as they came you Simon’s eyes are wide, dropping his cigarette to the ground.

“I’m sorry- do you wanna- can I ask you out? I didn’t mean to do that but you talk a lot” he said bluntly, stuttering his way through his own mortifying actions.

He kissed you. To shut up your mindless yapping he… you shake your head in disbelief.

“You are unbelievable” you say, but there’s absolutely no malice in your tone- only wonder.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his throat feeling tight.

“Yes. It’s a good technique you have there- do you do that on everyone? Kiss them when they talk too much? I can just imagine how Soap would rea-“

He did it again, eyes closing and inhaling sharply as he covered your cold cheeks with his hands. Christ you were a talker but he didn’t mind so much, if he was allowed to quiet you like this from now on.