#i just can't deal with his hair anymore

[brightonpage-moved]

[mochinomnoms]

Please share the lewd interspecies romance.

Okay so mostly I have thoughts over the Octavinelle trio, especially the twins 🫣 but i wrote a lil something for most of them! also this was not meant to be so long idk what happened

[tags] - nsfw, AFAB-implied reader, but written gender-neutral, mentions of ruts/heats, breeding, etc

nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!

If you really compare humans to the nonhuman population of Twisted Wonderland, there's are some small physiological differences between species. Fae, surprisingly, don't differ from humans all too much. Land dwellers in general don't have anything too significant, though all of nonhuman species retain aspects of their animal counterparts.

Most of Savanaclaw goes through some sort of rut/heat during various times in the year, primarily early spring and summer. There's no logical reason for them to retain that aspect of their mating cycle anymore, not for a sentient species that have skills of logic and reasoning. Unfortunately, they didn't get to choose how their evolution worked, and so they have to deal with it in anyway they can.

They get a lot more irritable, they have throbbing headaches, their abdomen hurts, and the scent of their mate is a lot more enticing than normal. Jack probably has it the worst of them, as a wolf beastmen. Not only does he have to deal with a fever-inducing rut that will put him out of commission for a week, afterwards he has to deal with the a/b/o jokes from his classmates too, oh the horror. It is really a horror though when he's able to bend you over his bed, bite marks aligned your neck and back as his dick pounds into you till his knot swells and locks you in for at least an hour. Jack's incredibly embarrassed afterwards, though he manages to be incredibly sweet even after rearranging your guts. Wolf beastmen are one of the most affectionate partners to have with a reputation providing some of the best aftercare for their species. It's most likely to make up for their week-long copulation, stretching and tiring out their sweet little mates. Ooooh, but they'll so very sweet: cleaning up the sticky mess of fluids between your legs with their tongue, careful to not overstimulate you (unless you ask), tending to the mating mark they placed on the back of your neck with soft kisses and licks, and making sure to prop your lower half up to that your chances of taking their seed increases.

Lacking the annual rut/heat that other variants of beastmen have, lion and hyena beastmen are more similar is this regard, as they don't have the same issue of long copulations as wolf beastmen. Neither will initiate sex, rather they'll rely on their mates to do so. Ruggie, in particular, is rather reluctant initiating sex, as male hyenas are typically more submissive, so if you're shy you'll have to get over it. But once you do, Ruggie is ever so happy to service you if you're happy to give him praise. Run your hands through his hair and ears as he eats you out, he'll let out the cutest whimpers and groans as you do. Just, expect to be jellyboned by the time he's done with you, as a hyena he needs to make sure his mate won't snip back at him and you can't exactly do that if your fucked out. While he may not have the same stamina as Jack for week-long fuck session, he has a particularly short refractory period and can have several short sessions in a single night.

Leona also won't typically initiate sex on his own, it happens very sporadically, and he his the image of the lazy lion. While he never wants to do anything particularly extraneous, who is he to deny you needs? You'll have to do some preparing though, as while the barbs on his dick aren't as bad as they are in his animal variant, they will hurt if you're not wet and pliable enough. Be sure to sit on his face, don't worry you won't suffocate him and it's better you cum a few times first before taking him. Unless you want it to hurt? Once you've cum enough times, you can ride him to your heart's content. He only asks that you don't mention how he rubs his head into the crook of your neck, marking you so that if everyone couldn't tell by the sounds coming from his room, they'd know you're his from his scent. Lions are quite protective with their territory and pride after all.

Merfolk have the most extreme physiological differences between them and...any land dweller really. It comes with the territory of being suited for a completely different environment. They also behave a lot more similarly to their animal counterparts, which can be both delicious and exhausting for their humans.

Moray eels don't have a set time of the year they mate, but rather the water must be warm and plenty of food must be ready to provide to their mate. When the spring time weather above the sea starts transitioning from crisp to blazing, don't be too surprised when the twins start handfeeding you meals and snacks throughout the week, they want to make sure you're happy and full for them, getting you in the mood with a sweet, dizzying underwater dance to initiate until they get the okay from you. What's that 'okay' though? You know that yawning I mentioned before? You'll get your answer from them now, as they take your open mouth yawn as an invitation rather than a sign of tiredness. Floyd, in particular, is ready to drag you into the deep part of the pool before remembering that you need to breathe somehow. Not a problem. He'll keep your pretty head above water. You'll still have trouble breathing as his long tapered tongue worms his way in your mouth. No matter, you'll be gasping for breath as he bullies this cock into your hole, large enough that you can physically feel the bump on your stomach. Morays are awfully fond of wrapping themselves around their mates, seeing as Floyd will do his best to tangle his tail around your body and squeezing you as you squeeze down his dick. He loves the physical contact between you two, and is amused how your nails try to dig into his shoulders seeing as the mucus on his skin makes it near impossible to have a steady grasp. You're completely dependent on Floyd as you drool and cry out for relief from the overstimulation, which is oh so ever exciting.

Jade is equally as cruel when it comes to mating. Unlike the others, merfolk tend to mate with the intention to, well, mate. He prefers you to be soft and pliant for him, as well as wholly depending as you two fuck. So, he'll happily brew you a water-breathing potion so he can actually drag you into the deep, where he found a secluded, warm grotto that will allow him to keep you to himself for hours, but close enough to the surface that he can continuously grab you food to eat between sessions. Not that those sessions will be short either. Like his brother, Jade is content to wrap himself around your body as he cooed honeyed words into your ears about how you'll make a wet, warm, soft hole for breeding. It's not like he'll have to do much either, his dick is prehensile and he can wrap himself around you, swiping kisses and nuzzling into the crook of your very sensitive neck while his thick cock continuously pounds into you with a bruising pace. He's so mean!! He likes seeing you cry from overstimulation too, and Jade will continuously scoot down to clean you up with his tongue, only to claim that too much of his seed was gone and he needed to fill you up again for another few hours. He's truly quite incorrigible, especially when he bites into your neck and shoulders to make his claim on you. Don't worry, most morays' bites aren't venomous, and even if they are, you have him to care for you. You're going to be depending on him in the water anyway, so there's no need to worry about it too much.

Something that neither probably won't mention, probably because they won't realize it's something you should know, is that they can change their sex under the right conditions. If you're ever so inclined in the future to test the waters out, the twins might be so generous to let you eat them out instead.

Of the trio, Azul's the only one with an established mating season, two actually: one in the late spring and the other in the early fall. Respectively, one during finals and the other during orientation. He's already so incredibly stressed, and he has the need to breed too? Downright atrocious. It's wonderful that you're so kind that he can take refuge in you and use you like a new octopot, so tell him how pretty he is and how much you love him and only him, so that you have the privilege fucking his merform. The moment you're entering the water, he'll unconsciously display mating signals by flashing soft lilacs and blues, a beautiful display of his need for you. He's rather large, even bigger than the twins, in his merform, so you'll need preparation as well; have no fear, his tentacles are wrapping and kneading the squishiest parts of you. I mentioned before that he can taste the salt on your skin and pulse through your wrist via his suckers. He can taste the slick from your walls, too, without even having to use his mouth as the suckers massage you from the inside. If you'd like, he technically could give you a full flavor profile afterward, though he'll probably be a bit mortified to do so. The biggest difference is his dick, or lack thereof. Instead of a dick, Azul has a hectocotylus, which is a modified, slightly shorter arm of his with a thicker spade-shaped tip that he can practically rearrange your guts with, with little effort on his part really. Most octo-mer variants will keep their mate at a distance, eons of instinct hard to forget. Azul's variant, though, will keep you close, almost dancing with you in a sweet, sensual twirl as he places sweet kissing and bites on your neck, arms, and chest. Octopi are, in fact, venomous, however, so you will be feeling a bit of a lustful high, paralyzed, and a bit helpless to the whims of a needy octopus. He's quite good at aftercare though, making sure you get an antidote and handfeeding you calorie-rich snacks to energize you back up (again, he's aware that you won't eat him, but instinct dictates that he keeps you full with both food and cum to make you a happy mate).

*collapses into heap on floor* thoughts....full.....ahahaha breeding kink go burrrrr. i was not meant to write this much and then it escaped me. also i hate tagging

[youryanderedaddy]

can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?

Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming

Gentle ~

You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?

But he does.

It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.

But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.

Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.

He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.

"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.

"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.

"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.

"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".

He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.

He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.

Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 

After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 

Mean ~

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.

Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.

But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.

You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 

“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”

It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.

If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 

If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 

“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”

He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.

He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.

“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw (Here) | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal

Sleep like the Dead (Inherited): Nothing wakes you anymore. Leona is as "selfish" as they come, and has no regard for your schedule. He doesn't feel remorse for soaking up your time in the slightest. Why should he? Other people do it for 90% of the day. Take a load off, the bags under your eyes are unsightly. If he doesn't want to wake up in the morning? You ain't either. It's a done deal. If the building isn't up in flames then don't bother asking. Evidently, prolonged and frequent daytime siestas take their toll on your circadian rhythm. You now need just as - if not more - sleep than Leona. Napping out in public and at the rowdy Savanaclaw Dorm bestowed upon you a disturbance immunity. Ramshackle could be in the middle of a raid and you wouldn't move. Not unless something singed your skin or really did some damage. It's become an actual problem. Crewel is considering a sleep study.

"Oi, herbivore...stop squirming so much. You almost crushed my tail. Hah? Class? You don't need it. Just borrow notes from one of those little friends or make the cat go....fine. Gimmie your homework later. I can teach you a thing or two. That is, if you can handle it." <- Grim can't be trusted on his own? Not Leona's problem. You're half of a student. Half. Not full. Half. There's your loophole now go back to sleep. Yap any more and he'll roll on top of you. Good luck talking with a mouth full of hair.

Perfume (Developed): This comes about in an awkward manner. Beastmen have keen smell. It's a given. Bada bing, bada boom, Leona knows your scent. He could point out the Ramshackle Prefect from a half-mile radius. Now he's never said your scent is unpleasant. Quite the contrary, although the lion would never admit it. The issue here is that your scent acts as a calling card, and Leona is clingy. So you ask Vil for the most popular perfume, potion, cologne - whatever - and start wearing it to mask your scent. At least enough so Leona's de-buffed to a one-fourth mile radius. It doesn't work entirely. No perfume is that strong. It's also an active assault on Leona's nose...but it had to be done. Side note - this was his plan all along. He isn't keen on non-human folk sniffing you out easily. Beastmen, most Mermen, and even select Fae have keen noses. Not that his own scent isn't a deterrent, but some masking perfume is worth the occasional nose-shank if it keeps snickering busybodies off your tail when he isn't around.

"Here. Take this and throw out whatever crap it is you've got on. You want me to say it flat? You reek." <- Take the scent masking balm he's giving and don't shop retail ever again. His nose hairs are literally burning off. The balm costs more than your entire dorm to make, but Leona won't ever admit it. You have an ultimatum. It's either this, or wearing one of his old vests around Savanaclaw. Now unless you want to be twinning with him and Ruggie, do the man a favor and comply.

Hair Ties (Developed): Bless his genetics for that wonderful, silky mane - but he needs to tame it. With how smothering Leona can be, you end up with a mouthful of hair at least twice a day. Man is tall, and he loves using his prefect as a leaning post. Which is cute but he sheds. So your arm is perpetually wrapped with hair-ties 24/7 like a cased sausage, because every time you give him one it disappears. It's on purpose, of course. He also snaps them whenever you aren't paying attention. Spiteful bas-

Biting (Inherited): Biting is a common display of affection in beastfolk culture. Not that Leona ever bothered to tell you this. His little nips (in no small amount) were usually passed off as punishments for being annoying. A lie, naturally. One could say it’s the human equivalent of cute aggression? Yet it has more meaning since it’s reserved for close connections such as family and lover. Although drawing blood or leaving a mark behind is reserved for the latter. You had to learn all this from a textbook, of course. No one in Savanaclaw was going to butt into Leona’s affairs, and Ruggie found your ignorance a funny game to taunt his Housewarden with. You were on your own, on a quest to save your skin. Literally.

Regardless, it’s Leona’s way of affection. Bonus points since he can do it without you knowing why. It’s only natural that you return the favor, playing along whenever he has to hold composure. Acting as if you don’t know and relishing in his micro- reactions. It’s only a matter of time before he figures you out, but it’s so nice to have the upper hand for once.

"That's for showin' up late. Don't like it? Not my problem...yawn if is' so bad, just take my bandanna...Why do you care if it's got Savana colors? Ya spend enough time 'round here, no one's gonna say anything." <- If it really bothered you, he'd stop. King of consent and of reading body language. Otherwise it's a go-go. Also if someone did have a problem with you sporting Savanaclaw colors? He doesn't need to kick their ass. Beastfolk got better hearing than most, and if one of his overhears you getting shit for wearing their dorm's colors then the classic night raven pride will pop out.

Habits He Steals:

Vegetables (Inherited): Leona sticks to meat, cheese, bread, and more meat. Bring on the steak. Bring on the beef. Bring on the deluxe cutlet sandwiches. Savanaclaw's kitchen is the most costly of all the dorms purely for how much Beastmen eat. If Ruggie can guzzle down seven plates in a sitting yet still look like a stick? Imagine a Lion's appetite. No one knows how you managed to get this guy to eat a salad like a true herbivore, but it's a cold day in the Savanaclaw dormitory when Leona's facing down a spinach side-salad on top of his lunch. Meanwhile you're happily munching away at the table, picking random veggies off your own plate to put on his. Each instance accompanied by an agitated twitch of his tale, but the lion's eerily silent. Dire Crowley is right. The Ramshackle Prefect is a Beast Tamer indeed...

"Now I know you didn't just pick at my plate, herbivore. Your luck's running thin...Oi. That's enough. I'll sooner eat one of your limbs than another turnip" <- he, in fact, did eat the turnip. The threat scared his underclassmen so much, that seeing you come around still in one piece the next day earned you a warrior's respect.

Correspondence (Developed): Leona's used to getting a sea of letters from ministers, attendants, and a particular little menace back at the palace. Unless it was an urgent message - he'd let the letters go unchecked after skimming them. Replying always took too much effort, and he'd rather not encourage unexpected visits like during the annual Magiift tournament. That is until you start receiving them as well. Nowhere near the amount Leona deals with - but he'd rather die than have his family telling you things without the ability to intercept. Falena blackmails him into responding to Cheka's letters, or else the little furball is going to use you as a penpal for writing practice. Side Note 2.0 - regardless of Leona's 'cooperative' ways, you still write to the mini lion in 'secret'. He knows but gave up caring.

"Another one? Just toss the damn thing. No - hmph. Give me that. I'll respond, just don't start up the lecture." <- You always manage to find the letters Cheka sends over before Leona can get to them. It clicks that you're a middle-man once they start showing up at Ramshackle instead of his dorm. Leona can't wait too long to respond, otherwise you'll start harping him over how cute the kid's handwriting is or whatever picture he drew. He lets you keep them. Cheka's got his own exhibit on the Ramshackle fridge.

Accommodating (Developed): Leona’s not necessarily a ‘verbal’ communicator, despite his smart mouth that always manages to get the last word. He will not openly lend his aid without a bit of pressing before hand - his pride would never allow it. Take the three days you and Grim stayed in his dorm as an example. Inevitably you earned the right to crash in his room, but there was a roundabout to get there. Mainly for show, since in Savanaclaw things are earned not given. You also weren’t close back then. He wouldn’t go easy on anyone, even if they’re from a different dorm or stranded homeless by some octopunks.

The tides change for you, and only for you. His morals are held high, and his ability to treat a partner well is no exception. There is no glory in being above your supposed equal. Everything is shared. This means Leona’s room is now your room, just as Ramshackle is now partly his. He’s clearing some of his closet out, filling it with your stuff, and doing the same back at your place. Doesn’t even ask and doesn’t give a damn that there are dozens of open rooms. It’s the principle. Sharing a space is letting someone see your most vulnerable being. Not that he’d think you could ever do any significant damage (lies) - but considering he doesn’t want anyone within a five foot radius during his leisure time, Leona giving you open access speaks volumes.

"Hah? So what? It's not like I'm forcin' them into it. Got a problem with how I act? Enlighten me." == Talk about nonchalont. Leona is well aware of the imprint he's left on you. He sees it in the way you talk. The way you think. Not just in the chess matches he makes you sit through over and over. Round after round until you can put him into check. You're confident. You're demanding. You're ripe potential that he got to first before anyone else. You chose him, and no amount of backtalk on your end outshines that you like him enough to mimic his ways. The Ramshackle Prefect’s presence isn't something people can overlook anymore, and Leona is damn proud that he's left a mark.

Habits You Steal:

Extreme Couponing/Haggling (Inherited): If you do not think Ruggie spends his Sunday mornings going through sales ads? You are sorely mistaken. This man is an absolute menace when it comes to hitting the market and squeezing a shop-keep for everything they are worth. Sam fears no creature in all of Twisted Wonderland aside from this particular hyena. Screw fighting blot - grab some popcorn and kick back to observe the game of verbal chess those two engage in every week. It's more entertaining than any battle or show. You will become Ruggie's apprentice. Ain't no partner of his going through life without the ability to haggle. Sam stands no chance.

“Ya get this week’s ad? Good. C’mon over and we’ll get the clippings going. I think I saw somethin’ about a buy-one get-two on those candies ya like. Maybe if your nice enough, I’ll shmooze Sam for a bonus!” <- Ruggie honestly enjoys having a coupon buddy. He makes a show about how you take too long, and that if you don’t wake up early then he won’t stick around! Can’t miss the sale, so he isn’t lying there. Except he does grab what you need on the off chance you do miss the meetup. Side note - he doesn’t just take an apprentice without ulterior motives. This is all in preparation for you to handle the slum markets. If you can’t fight off a few broke students, then you won’t last a day back home.

"Shishishishi" (Inherited): There is no escaping it. For the countless times you've poked fun at his little wheezy laugh - imagine the utter mortification when it came not from him! No no. From you. It's unconscious and in the moment you don't recognize anything wrong. You were only laughing over a won victory against Sam. That new lamp you wanted for your work-desk finally within reach, and 70% off no less! Said conman looks at you with eyes blown wide, because great seven there are two of them now. It takes a moment for self-awareness to hit, but you're too late. Two fuzzy-satellites atop a mop of shaggy blonde curls perk up, and your laugh from before echoes from the original culprit's mouth.

“I heard that! You’re doin’ it wrong. Gotta put more air, Shishishi~” <- Ruggie’s a taunting little turd on a good day. Be prepared. You won’t be living this down. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it? Next thing is to train ya in the art of sticky fingers - no? Ugh. Fine. Ya Goodie-Goodie.

Hands Up! (Inherited): Ruggie has a very unique way of standing. Hands behind his head, laced together to support his neck. One hip normally supports most of his weight, and he's always in a deep-slouch. Bro doesn’t need to cast ‘Laugh With Me’ for his movements to be mirrored, because you’re already following along without realizing. Leona finds the mimicry unsettling. Take that freaky shit out of his line of sight.

Habits He Steals:

Sharing Food (Developed): This is the inner hyena coming out. Just like in the slums, it's demanded to share amongst your own. He might be a sleaze to other people, but not to you. This also backfires into Ruggie thinking that what's yours is his as well - but that's not the point. He'll plop down next to you at dinner and wordlessly offer up half of his meal. You need more meat on those bones, he'll say if protested. In turn he'll then take half of your dessert. It's a sign of trust, instinctively believing that whatever's on your plate is safe to eat. Yet also shows that he's taken you as one of his - and that's a privilege no one at NRC has. No strings attached because everything you both have is shared. On a side note, you'll never be-rid of Ruggie once this comes to pass.

Shared Wardrobe (Developed): Again with the collective treasure hoard, but with a twist. Ruggie can essentially squeeze into most clothing or modify them to his needs. If it works, then it works. So he'll happily offer up any modified dregs he has for your usage, and in turn he will claim whatever clothes you aren't overly attached to. There is also the matter of scent, of course. Ruggie is the type of person to cut up one of your old pajama shirts and fashion arm-bands, making sure to have one knotted around his bicep at all times. You in turn are welcome to swipe his bandanna at your leisure in place of that tacky uniform tie.

“Hey…you seen my blaz - hah? Uh, nevermind. I’ll go grab somethin’ else. Where’d ya leave the heavier coat Gran sent over. Forget it, I’ll just go check myself” <- The first time you snag one of his oversized blazers or hoodies gets him. It gets him bad. Sharing with Leona was one thing but, c'mon. Warn a guy would ya? You're so lucky he's an opportunist on quick feet, so of course he’ll take the chance to steal something you wear often. Ruggie’s great at brushing off any taunts or quips. Being Leona’s right hand gets him stable back at Savanclaw, but that doesn’t take away years of being the underdog. Whether the other beastfolk stare at him openly brandishing your clothes means little, if anything, he enjoys it. Cause once again the underdog’s got a top prize.

Caffeine Addiction (Inherited): Ruggie spends more time and effort running around than most. His *hobby* is doing part-time work. Those overpriced sugar-loaded drinks never appealed to him because why waste money when powering through is just as effective? Or chugging some ice water? Yet you seemingly always have some sort of caffeine to make it through the hell NRC dishes out, and Ruggie being a mooch is always there to steal at least 1/3 of it. Now he’s trained and gets extremely sluggish around mid-day without a dose. It’s your fault if he falls off his broom during spelldrive practice.

"Wha'cha trying to say with that tone, huh? Think I'm not good enough? 's that it? There're way worse chumps to take after. Way I see it? They're learnin' how to make it in this world, sha ha ah! So thanks!...eh, why're you still here? Shoo already." == Considering rumors never have anything good to say about Ruggie's attitude, he's not dumb enough to take the little 'compliment' as genuine. More like as a backhanded sight towards your relationship. Rugs could care less about what those nobodies have to say. Not like they've got anything he's after, just some busybodies that scurry off with their tail between their legs when things get rough. Even if you catch word of it, Ruggie ain't going to get pissy because they're right. Everything they're saying is right, he is rubbing off on you. He is actively trying to. Life isn't a peach and it's not like he's strong enough to protect you from the hardships. It'll be a big laugh if you pull that righteous crap and try to defend his honor, though. Someone better get it on camera.

Habits You Steal:

Paternal Disappointment (Inherited): There was a time, a simpler time, a Jack-less time...when you were a fool. No. You are one to this day, but it is better tamed under Jack's strict aura of perpetual disappointment. Once on the side of being scolded with Ace and Deuce, you are now the one doing the scolding. You are not fun anymore. There is a stick shoved so far up your ass, and it's now part of your internal organ system. Ace dubs you a traitor, as does Grim. You've gone to the dark side in exchange for the morally sound wolfboy to offer cuddles and the occasional snack. I'm sorry to tell you this dear prefect but you've become....*gasp* the (mom/dad) friend.

“Boring? Who said you were boring?…don’t listen to those jerks. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. They’re just upset that they can’t get away with murder anymore - Uh, not t-that I was jealous or anything! Don't get the wrong idea! . Hmph.” <- Jack doesn’t take offense when others call him names, but he doesn’t like when you’re brought into it. At all. Especially because he used to be jealous how you, Ace, Grim and Deuce were more tight-knit than with any of the other first years. Like a pack. That behavior is childish, and Jack hates that he used to think that way. As if your attention was something he had to fight over. It's not like he wanted the same bond you shared with those three either, that's friendship and he wanted more. By being with you, Jack knew that it was going to put him on a different tier than the others. That's just what happens. Part of him feels guilty that you might be losing face because of him. His reputation isn’t bad, but he does have a resting angry face. Reassure him in turn and Jack will be over the moon. Any happier and his wagging tail can become a makeshift duster for the dorm (Were he on earth, he’d definitely get the nickname ‘tails’. After the sonic character, just to clarify)

Meal Prep (Inherited): This is actually an amazing influence and is wonderful for someone on a tight-schedule. You're not going to be eating high-protein meals every night, neither wasting away in an attempt to chug down pre-workout shakes. That's on Jack and Jack alone. Helping him prep meals is a nice touch and a pleasant evening spent together once a week. You don't become strict with it, but Jack does convince you to at least prepare some of your favorite dishes as snacks/emergency meals. He also constantly shoves energy water and vitamins in your bag. No more cup-noodle or scrap sandwiches on those nights you don't reach the mess hall on time. Now you have balanced meals, and get to flaunt matching containers with your boyfriend. Very cute. Everyone hates both of you.

"Uh...are all those stickers really necessary? I know we agreed on matching boxes but this is a bit...No! I'm not embarrassed! Gah, just keep it to a minimum. Nothing that falls off or sparkles." <- He is flustered beyond compare after every track meet. At first he barely bat an eye, thinking nothing of the orange bento box with chibi-cactus stickers and his name written in bold bubble lettering on top. You decorated it just for him, and if it meant you would carry around a spare meal then that's even more incentive. Yet the smell of fresh food attracts jocks after a meet like nothing else, and the teasing was relentless. It isn't enough to stop him from enjoying his meal, though.

Lint Roller (Developed): Leona sheds, but Jack? He is like owning six full-grown huskies. He apologizes profusely for the shedding, especially since the NRC uniforms are black. You run through lint rollers like Deuce runs through eggs. It isn't Jack's fault, but man. Ramshackle collects both dust and fur bunnies these days.

Habits He Steals:

Piggy-Back(Developed):Jack carries you everywhere. He's normally very patient but when there's a place to be? Well, he wants to get there on time. Jack has a strict bedtime at 10:00pm sharp and so his free hours are scarce. Do you want enough time to enjoy the lakeside as planned? If so, hop on his back so no time is wasted. Jack also pressures you to join him for morning and evening jogs. He refuses to give up his diligence, but also is acutely aware that there is little spare time he can afford you during the week. Either you have to keep up with him, or you're getting used as a makeshift weight and being hauled across campus. Relationships need quality time to grow and this is the perfect excuse to hog your attention for two hours every day. Not that he'd admit it, but the swish of his tail while you chat is enough to tell Jack's enjoying his runs much more than before.

"Are you comfortable? Just let me know if I'm going too quick. I'll try not to jostle you around too much...if you're tired then take a nap. I'll wake you when we're back home." <- He'd prefer if you didn't sleep. It messes with your circadian rhythm, but the whole point of this is to help you relax. Just knowing you're with him is enough to make Jack happy. Rain or shine, no excuses. If it's cold he'll let you use his hair to block out the chill, although he'd never let you out in anything less than the proper gear. Even if he joins Deuce or Vil on occasion - you're his favorite running partner.

Safety (Developed): Jack asks you to text him twice a day. Once in-between class, even though you’ll be spending lunch together, and once before bed at 9:30pm. The morning isn’t needed since he’s your alarm clock. He understands that as a prefect, you don’t have a curfew like the majority of students. Yet he is communicative with concerns about you being outside of Ramshackle late after dark. Even when you were just friends, hearing the story of when A-Deuce hauled you to that abandoned mine in the middle of the night? The blot monster and how close it came to you guys not making it? Magic or not, that would worry anyone with common sense. It doesn’t help that Ramshackle has no security beyond its resident ghosts.

"- and you just went with them? Because the headmaster told you to? Are you insane!?...No. You're right. What's done is done. Just...call me if something like that ever happens again." <- Thank the seven Jack's hair is already white.

Jack never thought he’d care this much about anyone. When your partner is a walking heart-attack, in the best way possible mind you, one just wants some piece of mind.

Covering Ears (Inherited): It's a natural response to cover your ears when frightened. Like when watching a scary movie and you don't want to hear what comes next. Jack covers his ears because they're sensitive, and loud noises can cause a migraine quicker than anything else. Especially when they're sudden. His hearing is more sensitive than most, being a wolf beastman. It's almost on par with Leona's. Yet his first instinct when there is a loud noise is to cover your ears instead of his. Even though you're human, the instinct to protect them takes over. It's also his way of being within arm's reach in case of a threat. You must be scared being in a new place. Jack will never let himself forget that. Nor how brave you are for continuing on regardless.

"What a relief...huh? Nah, I didn't say anything. Isn't there a test coming up in Alchemy next week? Want to hit the books together?" == The type to divert the topic as quick as possible, on the chance that he lets too much slip. Needless to say that Jack is relieved to hear that you're mimicking him on an unconscious level. It means that you trust him. That you respect him and see him as an equal. It's the biggest compliment Jack can ever ask for. If people are automatically associating you together, then it means he's done his job. You're part of his pack - and outsiders can recognize it at first glance. He'll do a good job at hiding how happy it made him, but expect that tail to wag at torpedo speed the next time he sees you.

[dekuneho]

let me ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x fem!prohero!reader ) — you underestimate how gentle katsuki can be, if you needed it | smut

( warnings. ) minors and ageless blogs dni ! fingering, praise, soft gentle sex iktr, reader is going thru tough times & katsuki takes care of you, timeskip!katsuki — 18+

You underestimate just how gentle Katsuki can be.

The instant your fingers click on the lock, Katsuki is already a step behind, his presence a looming force over you like an unshaken shadow. There must be something on your face; Katsuki frowns as he studies it intently, fingers ghosting over your arms, like he’s trying to read between lines that you haven’t even drawn in yet.

"Something happened." He doesn't phrase it as a question, sounding sure of himself. “What?”

"I'm safe," you swear to him, pulling your coat off. "No bruises or anything. See?"

He ignores your extended arms, pinning your gaze with his own. "What," Katsuki demands.

"Katsuki—” You sigh and attempt to push past him. He just rears back and keeps his eyes trained on your face searchingly. "Katsuki, I'm too tired to deal with this."

His brows dip downward further. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

You falter, struggling to maintain this flimsy display of strength — he knows you too well for that.

He waits. Patient, gentle, like he’s so sure that he can carry this burden with you. You know he can. It’s that fact that makes you think, Of course not. Of course you could never be too tired of him. He never tires of me, too.

“I don't—” you say, looking away, “I don’t know if I can keep doing this anymore. Am I even doing anything right?”

There must be some other reason — Katsuki is evidently fumbling at the threads to tie it all together in his head, but as of the moment, that is all you’re feeling. You don’t know if you can keep doing this. Your limbs want to sag to the ground, knowing it has to prepare again to face the brunt of tomorrow — but you have to care for it, too, or else you’ll wake up dead. Katsuki doesn't deserve that, even if you’re falling apart.

"Everything is just so hard," you continue, the surge of emotions you'd been desperately keeping a tight leash on bursting at the seams; "None of it makes any sense. I don't know if I'm doing anything right."

Katsuki's frown eases. "C'mere."

The next breath you take comes out wet and shaky. The next step you take gravitates to him.

Katsuki pulls you to his chest as you sob. He buries his nose into your hair, rubbing shapes into the small of your back. It almost feels like he’s coaxing it out of you with every touch. You cry violently, lungs spasming, everything pouring out finally — and throughout it all, Katsuki doesn’t split away, even as your tears and snot leave a disgusting patch on his shoulder. If anything, he keeps you enveloped in his warmth, as if he can tell that it helps even without being told.

“N-nothing happened,” you sniffle, trembling, and Katsuki pushes off just enough to see your face; “But it was so overwhelming. I just — I dunno.”

“Baby,” Katsuki starts. You’ve never heard him speak so softly before, low and rough and embodying gentleness that you don't know if you deserve. “Let me take care of you tonight, yeah?”

That sounds good. God, you want him to do that so bad. But looking so weak in front of someone so remarkably strong like Katsuki is embarrassing. You're not some child needing to be told that you're doing good and everything will be all right — needing to be coddled because you had a bad day.

“I want to,” Katsuki says; you feel as though he can read your mind. "Let me."

"…okay." You nod, averting your gaze. "Please take care of me."

And so Katsuki helps you bathe, kisses your knuckles, pulls one of his shirts down that reaches to your mid-thigh, brushes your hair out of your eyes, feeds you dinner he's cooked, and kisses you again. All the while, it's silent. Peaceful. It should unnerve you that Katsuki hasn't spoken a single word since, but you revel in the comfort of hearing his measured breaths instead.

It’s like you can hear him think: You’ll be okay. So let me take care of you. Let me help you be okay.

You feel like you're melting out of your own body, sinking into the comforter's embrace on your shared bed, losing tension in Katsuki's scent and affection.

“Pretty,” Katsuki mumbles, his hand crawling down.

Then you go still when Katsuki watches your expression as he glides a finger in between your legs.

Your cheeks burn. "I — w-what—"

Katsuki hums, thoughtful. "You're already…"

Well, it happens that today is a day of many discoveries. It turns out, Katsuki's hands can be so soft as he works shampoo through your head, and you get horny seeing how attuned your boyfriend is to your needs.

Katsuki can be so gentle with his hands. Of course you’d been thinking of how gentle he can be elsewhere.

"You want me to?" Katsuki asks, slipping a hand under your shirt. His heated fingers caress your waist, his thumb rubbing circles that trickle hotness down elsewhere.

You aren't sure why you feel so shy. You've done worse with each other. "You don't have to. If you just feel like you have to—"

Katsuki lifts an impatient brow. "You think I wouldn't want to?"

You squirm, suddenly aware of the empty ache that is longing for Katsuki. "W-well—"

Katsuki kisses under your right ear before he tugs on your underwear and flings them off to the side. He pulls back to devour your lips in a kiss, swallowing your noise of surprise. Your hands find home in his hair and he thumbs on the source of your heat.

You jolt and choke on a moan as he increases the mind-numbing friction. "Let me take care of you," Katsuki says; "let me, say yes."

"Yes," you cry out in his mouth. You feel floaty with the surge of lust shuddering through your entire body. "Please."

When you break away, you see his pupils wholly overtaking his iris, not even a hint of red. Katsuki licks over his teeth as he stares like he hasn't already eaten dinner. Like he’s doing himself a favor. You wrap tentative fingers around his wrist to guide his hand to your cunt, twitching because it knows it's going to be filled so well with Katsuki here.

Katsuki would make it so good; you know it. You know it so well. He’d know how you want it — need it.

He groans as you feel yourself get wetter. "Baby, shit — you needed this, yeah?"

"Katsuki—"

"I know." Katsuki rubs on the sensitive bud of your clit, kissing your jaw. "I know. Relax, baby, relax for me. Make it feel good. Just like that. Yeah, fuck, like that."

You feel dizzy. Katsuki teases one finger in, watching your face with rapt attention. You're so wet that he slides in easily; he could slip in two more just like that. But Katsuki is focused on making you feel the sensations instead, taking it slow, one by one, leaving you a fluttering, whining putty under him.

Katsuki’s heavy breathing makes you tighten around him involuntarily. He curses, patience rescinded. "One more?"

"Yes, please please — more — ah—"

He curls his fingers, and you tremble and whine, white-knuckled, gripping him, trying to meld yourself into him. Katsuki echoes your sound in a rasp, "Mm. You hear yourself? Fuckin' gorgeous."

It should be embarrassing that you're close already, yet who can blame you with Katsuki overwhelming your senses with every inch of his body — all over and inside you? His fingers are hot, and you're burning up, a coil in your stomach begging to be released.

Your legs shake as your back arches. "Kats — Katsuki — ah, please, please. Please, I'm—"

Katsuki kisses you through all of it. "I know. I know, baby. Don’t gotta beg. I gotcha — give it to me."

You thought you'd already exhausted all your tears, but Katsuki whispering in your ear and coaxing an orgasm out of you so tenderly pulls heat into your eyes. You forget about the weight on your shoulders. Right now, you can only think of how you could fall and Katsuki would catch you. You cry as you break, pulse jumpstarting, and Katsuki takes care of you all over again.

[steddie-as-they-come]

everybody talks

i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever

It starts with the graffiti.

Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.

STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON

The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.

Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.

The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.

Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.

Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.

He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.

Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.

Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.

He looks down automatically.

There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.

Great.

Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.

As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."

Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.

He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.

The teacher starts class.

He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.

Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.

Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.

Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."

Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.

"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."

It's not really a question.

Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."

"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"

Steve reels back. "Huh?"

"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."

"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."

"Oh."

Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.

Wait, that sounds wrong.

They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.

"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.

Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.

Right.

Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.

Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.

He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.

"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.

"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."

"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.

"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"

Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.

"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"

"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."

"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."

They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.

He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?

"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Eddie says idly.

"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."

Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."

"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."

"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"

Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"

"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."

Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.

EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON

[srslyblvck]

in my arms, five hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

synopsis: In the chaos, you break down, and Five comforts you, giving you new hope.

genre: angst, hurt-comfort, fluff

warnings: mental breakdown

author's note: this is to cope with the ending of tua s4 cuz idt i will be recovering from that anytime soon lmao

word count: 0.5k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE WORLD WAS ENDING. Again.

You had lost count of how many apocalypses you and the rest of the Umbrella Academy had thwarted. Each one had left you more exhausted, more broken than the last. The constant fighting, the never-ending chaos, and the relentless pressure to save the world were taking their toll. There was no time to rest, no time to heal. Just fight, survive, and then do it all over again.

But this time, it was different. You could feel it in your bones. The hopelessness, the crushing weight of responsibility—it was all too much. You had always prided yourself on being strong, on never showing weakness. But now, standing in the ruins of yet another battle, you felt yourself breaking.

The others were scattered, each dealing with their own demons. But you couldn't keep going. Not like this. You sank to the ground, tears streaming down your face as the overwhelming sense of despair consumed you. You had tried so hard, fought so long, but it never seemed to be enough.

You didn't hear Five approach. He had always been the enigma, the one who seemed to have everything under control. You and he had clashed countless times, your arguments as fierce as the battles you fought. But now, as he knelt beside you, all the animosity seemed to fade away.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge. "What's going on?"

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him. "I can't do it anymore," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I can't keep saving the world. It's too much. I'm tired, Five. I'm so tired."

He was silent for a moment, then moved closer, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace that was surprisingly gentle. You stiffened at first, not used to this side of him, but then you let yourself relax into his arms. You buried your face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I know," he murmured, his hand rubbing your back in soothing circles. "I know it's hard. But you don't have to carry this burden alone."

You shook your head, the words spilling out between sobs. "I don't want to let everyone down. But I'm losing hope, Five. Everything is in chaos, and I can't… I can't keep pretending I'm okay."

Five tightened his grip on you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "You're not letting anyone down. You're human. You're allowed to feel this way. We've been through hell, and it's okay to break sometimes."

You clung to him, his words offering a glimmer of comfort amidst the darkness. For so long, you had believed that showing weakness was a sign of failure. But now, in Five's arms, you realized that maybe it was okay to let someone else in, to let them help carry the weight.

The chaos around you seemed to fade as you cried, Five's presence grounding you in a way you hadn't thought possible. He held you tightly, his hand gently stroking your hair. It was a side of him you had never seen before, and it made you feel a strange sense of comfort amidst the pain.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace, but for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope. Not for the past, but for the future. Because as long as you had Five by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🎃nightmare suit groovies~🎃

***Spoilers below the cut!! Please note: The R cards (Azul, Epel, Vil, Malleus) do not have new illustrations.***

OH MY GOD STOOOOP 😭 NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS CHARACTER CAMEOS IN THE GROOVIES??? ?? ?????? ??!???!? ?? ??? YOU MIGHT AS GFWELL WALK RIGHT UP TO ME AND IRiP MY FRIGIGN HEART OT RIGHT NOW

wWAHASL,ADFJHHDUPGFFI42T69O38QGPEGBIP;DGN;GDN;J J WORD SQUASHED U P IN THE AMYOR'S LITTLE CAR.. . . ....... . . . ... . . .. . ...... . . . OTL With the hair pushed back like that, teeth out, and eyes lidded, Jade almost looks like Floyd here. I THPOGU TI WOULDN'T BE sURIRPISED BY HIS SMIELS ANYMORE BUT I GUESS SI AWAS WRONG... This smile's very different than his unhinged/suspicious/evil ones and his pure ones, it's charming but more on the relaxed side. I also noticed the teeth are wider than usual (again, very Floyd-like), Jade's are narrower/smaller.

I like Trey's Groovy a ton! A lot more than I thought I would, actually. The blueish lighting and him looming over Sally's pot reminds me of his Club Wear card. ahdbasdlai There's also a slight sheen to his eyes, so Trey comes off like he's fascinated by her cooking and wants to learn more about Sally's techniques. He looks slightly shady too though, like some drug dealer inspecting the goods...

FHLBOQYW8QYFAFWI LRIDDLE'S RIDING IN THE CURSED CHILDREN'S BATHTUB... It's a little terrifying how hyperdetailed Lock, Shock, and Barrel's faces are and how they're all staring right at the camera. Riddle seems so calm, glancing at you over his shoulder with a little smirk. I usually don't use this adjective for him, but it makes Riddle feel cool! And since the image is shot from a slight worm's eye view angle, it gives him the illusion of being taller than he actually is--

Go figure, you slap the mad scientist character with the mad scientist of Halloween Town. Perfect pairing, honestly. I get very similar vibes between Idia and Dr. Finkelstein as I did with Trey and Sally; Idia is showing a real interest in the good (?) doctor's work and they appear to be deep in a discussion about it. The way Idia is bending over the table adgvkadsdval it kinda gives his body a more... triangular shape... that I just KNOW bro doesn't actually have. His face here seems more elegant than usual, almost Vil-like.

Thanks for the uncalled for viewing of the underside of your boot, Sebek 💀asjldboaysvyfevfeq I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS, he's trying so hard to come off as intimidating but I cannot see him as "the boss", even if he is posed like one. Give that jack 'o lantern some credit though, it sure is doing a fine job of supporting Sebek's big ol' beefy arm. Jack Skellington in the back is also sending me... Is he supposed to be intimidating??? That positioning just makes me think of someone leaning against a doorframe and trying to flirt by calling you their babygirl. GHBLIABFYIABFIAF ANYWAY I DON'T THINK THIS GROOVY WAS FOR ME

... wHAT THEFUCK. That was NOT what I expected of Jamil's Groovy. First was the weird pumpkin stroking, now bro's dancing with skeletons?????? IS THIS JUST WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'REEMOTIONALLY REPREssED YOUR ENTIRE LIFE... YOU POP OFF AND DO THE MOST OUT OF PocKET THINGS FOR FUNSIES?????? Jamil looks so smug as he's doing it too, it feels like he's shittalking you like a Mean Girl while he's busting a sick dance move. (Cameo: his toof) Jack in the background also looks the most sinister of all the SSRs. That combination of laughter and showing off his teeth... Unsettling.

.

.

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waht the hell. What HTBbr heLL. WHAT THE ACUTLA EHLLMIS THIIISISISISISSJISISISSSZ>/>?????w?f>fwlwkwfkfwjfwjkqljirtfyqnNOEGWOQG.,P57KIRJEI0RW08J:????>f>>fw>f>fw<wf<q>:q?q>v?v?v?v??gogibopobfuiibadh wnethuhw

WHYT THEUFKC FDUCC DOES THIS SLAP SO HARFZD OTL

ADSHJFIAGVTFVUOQEFVUBKQDWLGYQERGYOQF evyEROYNTHING AB OITU T THIS IS JSUT.... AKJBFLIUHADFIADFLF RIGHT UP MY lallEY... The extreme bird's eye view angle????? Jack with his arms crossed and that skeletal smirk??? Zero's little duck beak-shaped mouth?? The eerie green glow emanating from the fountain water below them? NLBVHDSKIUEGFABOGVSAEFYIPodp D nad HE WHOS HALL NOT BE NAMED V,NJ DBIOADFVIYOADFOTVFE8AYPFIEGWOBPFQEBOVGWIPEGBSNMVPOADVBN;DDBK;RWHOUGWBIQEPGNJQEG TH wE WHAYT THE FUCKCING ANGLR FRAMES HIS TITS AND MAKES HIS LEGS LOOKN EXTRA LONG, THE GRIBGKDJULBADFLBAFD CAPE WSWISHinG EVEYRWHERE, THe LIGHTONIGF FON HIS AHDNNEOMS E DAFACE, THE FUIDFSLBDFBKHAEFLBHQEFALBFEAL FA HADN TTHE FEGRIIGGING HAND HE'S OVFFERINGF TO YOU7? ? ???????? ? ?b?@??gb ? ? ? ? ? ?b>b>KNBNRIOBIGEBOYVDOGY8EANOapnjbgywt80pboqegwp,m iS THIS FUCKING BITCH ASKING FOR OUR HAND??? ? ?? ?? ?DOOahaaHAHhhghghghhghhgHHHHHhhhHHHHARRHRHGHGHGHGHHHHGHGHGHGHHHHHH HH H HHHH H H H H H I WANNNA bE SANDED TO BE PUT ouT OF MY MiSERY, I'M TAKING SO JCMUCH PSYCHICHDAMAG E I CAN'T TAKE IT I';N M GOINC CGATRAZXY. .. . . .BVL;,DFIPTOTO OT LTLTKT FLFL BHIVUASFOVUAFSA

gGUSY I THINK TI',M GDON E FOR, IT'S LEoVER FOR ME I SPENT SO LONG DENYRINH IT I DIDN'T WANNA ADMITR IT FOR MY OWN PRIDE BUT I'M DONE fRO I'M A GONRER BYE IT'S JFDAUBIADGOVUAFODUTVEFTI7EFWOIAVD;LIVOYGPGWEFQOIGYEQPgkjd TIUFQETO3R1QEFOTFQEG.5OIMH903GW9UPBAfpjFOVHDN;./'[;,KP[K,[LN,,L>:c<<l:LBHIDABIOUFPAOYGVEQBFPGWBPGHLGWBPQEFPGIAE whnEN YOU YSEE ME DNEXT I'M OGNNA BE LAid OUT IN A PIUMPKING PATCH DECATINGF CUZ THSI GROOVFY KILELD ME

[im-ovulating]

I think Tate should pin reader to a wall and fuck her. W me deserve a treat this Halloween season, and slutty Tate is such a nice thing.

(A/n: I think that's the best idea you've had yet. Slutty Tate is really all I need in this life🫠)

(Forgive the writing rust, it's been a minute)

(Not proofread)

(Pretend it's still October for me, yeah?)

Word Count: 1,611

Summary- Run, baby, run.

Warnings: Chasing, Unprotected Sex

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Tate Langdon x Fem! Reader: Run

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

"Oh, my fucking god, Tate!" You screech as you use the banister to make a sharp turn. Tate thunders down the stairs after you in that stupid mask he found.

"C'mon~" He rasps out. "Don't you wanna play?~"

You round the kitchen island, circling it to keep distance between you. His vocal fry makes your cheeks burn; the innuendo in his phrasing doing nothing to help the heat.

"Don't -" You cut yourself off with a scream as Tate all but lunges around the island at you.

And you're running again, through the living room, past the home office, until you spot the basement door in your peripheral. You shoot off towards it, ripping the door open and sprinting down the stairs. You use the support pillars to your advantage, losing him in the maze that you call a basement.

You can hear his heavy steps as he taunts you. Boot clad feet clicking and echoing through the dark room.

"Y/n~" He singsongs. "Come out, come out wherever you are~"

His voice is muffled by the mask.

You slip around the last outcropped wall and plaster your back to the brick.

A shiver runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end as it suddenly goes deadly silent. The only sound in the damp room is your ragged breathing that gets poorly muffled by your hands.

Why did you think the basement was a good idea? You've done nothing but effectively trap yourself.

You're a sitting duck down here. Your best chance at escaping him is if you can manage to get back up the stairs and make a break for the front door. In theory, it's easy. The door is just a few paces to the right of the basement. But this is a ghost you're dealing with - nothing is that simple with him.

Nonetheless, once you steady your breathing, you start inching your way back to the steps.

Thank the gods you decided to put off putting your shoes on; your socks make your steps silent as you scoot around a corner. Your eyes adjusting to the pitch black does nothing to quell your paranoia; if anything, it merely heightens it. The knowledge that you could turn your head at any point at be face to face with your pursuer has your heart frantically beating against your ribs as if aching to smash through the bone. The quiet roars in your ears as you strain to hear even the slightest shuffle in the dark.

Wait-

No. That was your pulse in your ears...

'Where is he..?'

Every step you take feels like it's being watched like a hawk, and, at this point, you don't know if you're just psyching yourself out or not. Something moves in the corner of your eye, but when you whip around, you're met with nothing.

'This isn't funny anymore...' your mind unhelpfully supplies.

Taking a shuddering breath, you make up your mind and call out into the pitch.

"Tate? Please, this isn't fun anymo-"

A hand covers your mouth, an arm snaking across your stomach to drag you back. You thrash, desperately trying to rip the hand off. Your protests remain muffled as your captor pins you face-first to the nearest wall.

"Gotcha~" Tate quips, his breath fanning your neck. "Are you scared, baby?"

So, he ditched the mask... 'Finally,' you can't help but think.

You shake your head despite the answer being an obvious 'yes'. You can feel his cock pressing into your ass, getting harder with each passing second.

"No?" His hand slips from your mouth to your jaw, tilting your head back, "Liar."

With that, Tate slams his mouth to yours, hungry and not afraid to satiate himself.

You know it's wrong. That being hunted down and caught shouldn't make you feel this way, but it does. It does. It makes your tummy get all hot and fuzzy - makes your head cloudy and hazy.

And Tate knows it.

He knows this dirty little secret of yours and loves to entice it. Because, just as much as you love the chase, he loves the hunt.

The arm around you slides down until his hand can slip into your pants.

"Not only are you a liar -" he murmurs into the kiss, "- but you love that you're scared. I bet you're soaking through your panties, too, aren't ya?"

His fingers finally reach your folds, easily stroking you with all the slick that's shamefully accumulated. "Knew it~"

Tate breaks the kiss and pulls his hand out. Lifting his hand to your lips, he barely has to mutter out an 'open' before you're accepting the digits into your mouth.

You can feel his dark eyes boring into you as you suck your own juices from his fingers.

"Good girl..." His thumbs along your jaw with his free hand before pulling his digits from your mouth.

Tate turns you around and pins you to the wall once more before leaning down to kiss you again. It feels like he's devouring you; eager to eat you until there's nothing left for him to take. His tongue slips past your lips, tasting all you have to offer and still some. It's when he starts to work at your jeans that you pull away.

"Down here?" You ask, as you attempt to catch your breath. Tate makes that easier said than done by shifting to focus on your neck.

You can feel the shit-eating smirk that spreads against your neck as he mumbles out a "Why not? You had no problem soaking your panties down here."

He belts out a laugh at your offended gasp and as much as you want to snark back, you can't deny that he's right. So, instead, you huff out an "Asshole" as you relax against the wall. Wasting no time, Tate shoves your jeans down until you're able to kick them off; after unbuckling his own, he hikes your leg up and lines his cockhead with your entrance with an almost evil grin.

"Tate, don't you fucking dar-" You're cut off with a yelp as he shoves himself to the hilt with one motion.

"You love it," he grunts. And you do.

He pulls out to the tip before thrusting back in. Again and again, he builds up to a frenzied rhythm as the wet sounds of your arousal echo through the basement and all you can think is how glad you are that you're the only one home.

You can feel the staccato of your heartbeat as it mirrors his trusts.

You can barely breathe with how hard he's slamming into you, but he still has you all but clawing at his back, so it's not like you can complain. He isn't much better with how he's basically growling into your neck, sucking and biting a pattern into your skin as he fucks into you.

"How are you still so fucking tight?" He groans out, grinding his cock into you before pulling out. Tate flips you around once more before pushing back in.

Your cheek scrapes against the wall with a few trusts before you're able to get your palms against it. Using your new leverage, you start to press back, meeting him trust for thrust as he draws out grunts and groans from both of you.

The hot, wet slide of him in your cunt has your brain going empty of anything but Tate and the growing need to cum. You can feel the steady build up, the tension mounting in your muscles as he guides you closer and closer to the edge.

You're not even sure what sounds your making; all you can hear is the heavy breathing and growled curses that Tate is releasing. His hands snuck up to play with your tits at some point and with each tug and pinch, your back arches more and more as electricity starts to crackle in your veins.

"God, I'm close," you pant out. "Please, Tate..."

You feel the tip of his nose trail up your neck as he inhales your scent. "You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" He mumbles once his lips meet the skin just below your ear.

He slips one of his hands back down to your clit, "Then cum."

With one last tug to the sensitive nerve, your vision blurs as you cry out his name. The static in your limbs shoots out, spreading through your fingers and toes and tosses your head back against his shoulder. You don't even register your legs going out until Tate's arm tightens around your waist, keeping you up as he chases his own release.

"Hold on, baby," He rasps, "Just hold on for me a little longer-"

The continued stimulation keeps your eyes shut as your forced to take what he gives. Any rhythm he had is gone as he pounds into your cunt like an animal; you could cry out in relief once you feel his hips start to stutter. And you do. As soon as you can feel the thick, hot ropes of his cum pump into you, the tears fall; the overstimulation makes your legs quiver, but ecstasy still hums in your veins.

You don't register the muttered praises Tate presses into your shoulder until your breathing evens out and your heart stops hammering in your ears. "You with me, Pretty?"

Nodding, you test your legs, finally taking the strain off of Tate, though his arm stays firmly locked around your waist. Blinking the remaining blurriness from your eyes, you turn your head to face him before getting pulled into a kiss.

"There she is," he whispers against your lips.

(3 years and I still don't know how to end smut🤪)

[petew21-blog]

Like father like son, Part 1

Father P.O.V.

My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.

If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.

After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.

On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"

Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you

We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard

We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.

We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.

And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.

I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.

I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess

I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.

I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now

I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.

I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.

Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.

I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.

It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.

What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all

I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me

"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"

"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"

"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"

The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on

One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe

Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."

And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.

Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her

I changed the story a tiny bit. I was really inspired by the photos so it went to a different direction than I hoped for. I hope you don't mind. If you do, please message me and I'll do another one especially for you :)

A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you

[huh-i-guess]

Paloma

(Captain John Price x F!Reader)

Summary: You all go to a club after a mission in Mexico and your drunken words have a sobering impact on your captain.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, daddy kink, embarrassingly drunk reader (no sex while she's drunk), spanking, choking, authority kink (?), age gap, unprotected sex, price gets nassssty

Word Count: ~ 6.3k

(Reader's callsign is Pepper)

I don't own MW2, the characters, or the gif above.

“Pepper. We’re waiting on you. What’s taking so long?” Simon gruffly inquired from the bottom of the stairs. “y/n what are you wearing?” He examined as he questioned your choice of club attire.

“A dress. Duh?” You deadpanned.

“WOAH.” Some of the guys gasped as you walked down the stairs.

“Steamin’ Jesus. Where’ve you been hiding these things?” Soap quipped.   

“You guys are acting like you've never seen me in civies before. They are just legs, come on. Leave me alone suds.” You swatted at the Scotsman that poked at your thighs.

“Pepper. I’ve seen you in civies before but not in a dress. Not this dress” Soap stated while his lips quired into a sly grin. 

“Yeah, I can't say I have either. You look beautiful though.” Gaz affirmed to your left.

“Thanks, Gaz.” You tilted your head in appreciation. Alejandro and Rudy walked in from the kitchen. Ale’s face brightened as he took in your appearance.

“¡Qué hermosa mi amor pero eso no es nuevo para ti!” Alejandro winked at you.  

“¡Gracias Ale!” You smiled as your face flushed with warmth. 

“You look gorgeous, sweet girl.” You looked over to the bench where your captain sat.

“Thank you, Captain.'' You smirked at Price's compliment as you watched his eyes rake down your body. Something about Price stirred things deep inside of you. Like a primal need. A want. A craving. But he’s your commanding officer so that’s all that he can ever be.

 A want. 

You fought the urge to clench your thighs together at his heavy gaze. His baby blues met yours and you felt yourself to suppress a shiver. Get it together.

“Okay let's go before they close the doors on us huh.” You cleared your throat and made your way to the door. 

~~~

You had just finished a massive bust and the team wanted to chill for a bit so you recommended clubbing. Did you recommend this because you miss shaking your ass and wanted to get drunk? Yes. Yes you did. You could only deal with so much testosterone for so long. It wasn’t like you hated being around the guys, you loved them, it was just that you sort of missed the thrill of getting hit on and it actually leading somewhere. The guys flirted with you all the time but it never went anywhere because at this point you were all family. It wasn’t even flirting anymore, it was like getting a compliment from a drunk aunt. 

You missed when flirting had an edge. When it led to you going home with someone and riding them till the sun came up. Some small part of you missed being treated like a girl. You appreciated that the guys saw you as one of them but at some point you have to remember that you have needs… parts you have to have filled. 

Price treated you the same as all of the guys and part of you appreciated it but his “flirting” always had a different air to it. Like he wasn’t trying to rile you up or ruffle your feathers. It was like he wanted you to hear everything he said and take it to heart. Like he meant it. Clubbing could also serve as a distraction from your feelings about the man. It wasn’t fair that he could occupy so much space in your brain. 

So you styled your hair, put on a face, slipped on a cute but always comfortable pair of heels, and a dress that damn near guarantees you’ll get laid. And made your decision to kick back and take your mind off of Price.

~~~

“So… Can I get drunk tonight?” You looked at Price for an answer and batted your mascara covered lashes.

“Why are you looking at me? You’re a grown woman and you don’t need my permission to do things.” Price rasped avoiding eye contact as he gripped the wheel. 

“Okay cool. So then you don't have a problem with me going home with someone tonight?” You probed watching as his hand white knuckle gripped the steering wheel. The men behind you fighting to hold in giggles knowing their captain’s feelings for you that he has yet to admit.

“Now why would I have a problem with that, Pepper?” Sounds like he has a problem with it, you thought. You chuckled and looked out of the window as you watched the stone fences eventually turn to trees. Alejandro’s car in front of you eventually came to a stop outside of the club. All of you regrouped at the door and made your way in. It always felt a little weird being one woman walking in with a gaggle of 6 men on your tail but you’ve been in weirder situations. You grabbed a booth on the far side of the club. Making sure to have easy, clear views of all of the exits. 

“Okay. I'm going to the bar to have a drink. Please don't come over unless you need something. You guys have a tendency to scare… people away.” You laughed and winked as you made your way to the bar. You spotted a handsome man who appeared to be having a drink with his friends and you knew you had to get his name. 

“The huntress is on the prowl, Price. You gonna do anything about that tonight?” Soap questioned his captain with a low whistle.

“Soap. I have no clue what you are talking about.” Price denies.

“Ay dios mio. Captain, you play the fool so well. We all know how you feel about her and I think she knows too. We are in Mexíco. My people do not play when it comes to beautiful women.” Alejandro began as he lifted himself from the booth. “I saw at least four others whose jaws dropped when she walked in. You will miss your chance with her here if you keep being shy.” Alejandro chipped with more bravery than his brothers at the table before he patted Price on the back and made his way over to a beautiful woman he had locked eyes with the moment he stepped foot in the club. 

After a while you got bored of the man you were talking to. He was a beautiful man but lacked any depth and honestly didn't seem like he could do any of the things you need a man to do. You stayed up at the bar and turned back to look at your group's table. Almost all of your group had been dispersed throughout the club. The only ones left at the table were Price and Rodolfo. They seemed to be deep in conversation and enjoying themselves so you smiled and headed to the dance floor. 

You found a group of girls to dance with that seemed to be having a good time and you asked if you could join their group just to dance for a bit and were welcomed with open arms and kisses brought to your face. You missed being like this. It's been ages since you hung out with a group solely made up of women. You quickly learned their names and where they were from. They were from all over the world and just spent time traveling together across the world as a group. The group was composed of some of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen and you felt great being accepted into their group. Mara was from Brazil, Tati from Puerto Rico and a number of other girls from a variety of countries. Tati had been eyeing Gaz all night and you knew that they’d hit it off deciding to introduce them later in the night. Your priority at the moment was dancing and having a good time.

Although you were in a Mexican club, they played all kinds of Latin Music and even random hints of American Music. Anything that you could move to, you moved to. From Destiny’s Child to Bad Bunny to Kali Uchis to artists you’d never heard of. You and Mara had been platonically grinding on each other for a major portion of the night. Your hips had minds of their own and moved any which way. Your system was flooded with an indiscriminate number of margaritas and palomas so you felt like you were on cloud nine. Your hips hadn’t stopped moving even as you felt a pair of eyes on you. The heat of the gaze could only belong to one man in this club. 

 You looked back to the table and locked eyes with Price. You smiled, felt a wave of confidence, and blew him a kiss before you turned back to Mara, Tati and the others.  La Romana by Bad Bunny and El Alfa came on and you all were locked in place on the dance floor. The tequila from the drinks you downed had you feeling like the only thing that mattered in the world was dancing to this song with these girls that you quite literally just met.

 You and the girls danced to the song as if you were the only people on the floor. Tati started rapping El Alfa’s part as all of the inhibitions exited your body. You couldn’t even call it dancing anymore because at this point it was just cheering as the gorgeous woman next to you rattled off in Spanish. By the time the song ended and you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. You raised your voice over the music as you drew the girls in and let them know that you had to take a break. You were met with a number of hugs and kisses to your cheeks as you turned to slip from the crowd. You decided to stop at the bar for another drink and turned back to the table. The liquor coursing through you made it feel like you were floating as you made your way back over to the table with your fruity cocktail in hand. 

Price’s eyes followed each step that you took and he stared at you with a burning gaze. The heat of his stare felt like a rope as the intensity pulled you closer and closer to him. You eventually closed the distance between the two of you and plopped down next to him. You were most definitely invading his personal space, but he just sat with the slightest smirk on his lips. 

“You look like you’re having fun out there, sweet girl.” He said as bumped his shoulder into yours. Your mouth was moving before your brain could even formulate a response. You never really did kick the habit of rambling when you got drunk. That little fact about you and Price’s watchful eyes had you loose. Absolutely no control over your body or your mouth, so you rambled. 

“I would be having so much more fun out there with you, daddy. Those girls are so sweet though. Mara and Tati and I think someone named Olivia. I can't really remember but I think Tati and Gaz would be so cute together.” You leaned into Price and lovingly looked into his baby blues. For some reason you grabbed his hand. “I haven’t danced like that in so long. Did you see my hips? It was like they had a mind of their own. Feel like I'm gonna be sore in the morning. Ugh, Daddy you should’ve joined me out there. Wanted to feel you behind me. Grabbing my hips and guiding them. Might’ve even put your hand on my throat and let you choke me a little.” The filth slipped from your mouth with a giggle and you hadn’t even realized the gravity of the comments you'd been making. You’d called him “daddy” twice. Not once but twice. 

Price stared at you dumbfounded. He felt his dick twitch in his trousers. Of course he’d been watching you from the moment you left the table to the moment you set foot on the dancefloor. He watched you meet the girls, open your arms, and be welcomed with kisses and giggles. Watching the interaction had him feeling things. His mind told him was too old for you. It told him that he was old enough to be your father and he already was your superior.

He’d watched you play with the lad at the bar who hadn’t even realized how out of his league you were. Price’s mind told him that you have all of these young men at your disposal. The doubts about his age flooded his mind. Why would you want him? You deserve someone who can keep up with you. Someone young and energetic.

His doubts were put on the back burner when you blew that kiss to him. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. When you damn near skipped over to him his heart was replaced by a warmth. When you called him “daddy” his cock stood at attention and his doubts had flown far from his mind. 

“Sweet girl, how many have you had tonight?” He groaned. 

“Like 4 shots of tequila and a few palomas? Have you had one yet? I think it's the national drink of Mexico or something like that” You chirped. 

“You know that I won't enjoy that. Barely enjoying this sorry excuse of a whiskey.” You pushed the cocktail over to him. 

“Please just give it a try for me, daddy? I tried that scotch the other night and I almost passed out from how strong it was.” Price let out a long sigh and looked into your eyes as he grabbed your glass and took a sip of the grapefruit cocktail. The smile plastered on your face was enough to melt his heart. He felt the cold liquid hit his tongue and was immediately hit with the sweet tang of grapefruit and the light punch of tequila. He would never admit it, but he actually enjoyed the slight tangy and sweetness of the drink. He faked a grimace and placed your glass back on the napkin. 

“Happy, love?” You giggled in his ear and kissed his cheek. Your brain hadn’t even registered what you’d called him just a moment ago. His eyes met yours.  “y/n, I don't want you going home with anyone tonight.” Price stated with a serious tone. He almost sounded how he did when you went on missions and he’d used your real name. Not your call sign or a term of endearment. 

“Daddy, don’t be so serious, I wasn’t planning on it.” You leaned into his ear as the words flowed from your lips, sweet and syrup-like. “ I just wanted to look pretty for you. Maybe sit on your lap and dance a little but you can be so stubborn.” Price turned his head and looked at you with wide eyes. Full of lust but also full of shock at your gall. 

“Love, I think I should take you home. You’ve had quite a lot tonight.” You leaned into him and pressed a giggly kiss to his cheek. 

“Only because it's you, okay. You really don't want to dance with me. Not even one song?” You practically begged as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“Let's see if you can even stand up on your own, Love.” 

“Of course I can.” You stood up and felt like the world had left you behind as wobbled on shaky feet. 

“Mhm. Let's go home.” Price affirmed and you frowned, but immediately thought of Tati and Gaz.

“Wait. Tati and Gaz. They need to know each other. Let me introduce them, please daddy.” With a long sigh that was meant to calm himself, he nodded and let you drag him to the dance floor. Of course you had hopes of playing matchmaker tonight. He chuckled a little at the fact that you always had the best interest of the team at heart. 

When you spotted Tati, she looked at you, and then at the 6'2 man planted firmly behind you. Her smiling face began to reflect one of concern as a frown crossed her stunning features. She tried to convince you to stay with her to make sure you weren't being taken advantage of in your state of intoxication. You felt your heart warm at the act of consideration, but let her know that you know him, trust him, and love him. Loud enough for him and everyone around you to hear over the music. His eyes widened and his face immediately flushed into a shade of deep red. He cleared his throat and grabbed your phone. He asked for the girl's number while you leaned on him and looked at him like he roped the moon out of the sky for you. He’d definitely remember the dopey love struck look that was painted on your face. 

He let you take Tati over to Gaz. Gaz, Soap, and Simon had been planted at the bar drinking and laughing with each other before you tapped Kyle on the shoulder. He turned around and was met with the sight of you, very much inebriated and giggly, arm intertwined with Price’s as you leaned onto him while holding onto Tati’s hand. Kyle and the others were glad to see you clinging onto Price and watched the interaction in fascination. 

“Kyle. Tati. Handsome man meet stunning woman.” You hummed while pushing Tati toward Kyle, feeling satisfied with your matchmaking skills. “Daddy, let's go home.” You looked up at Price. Soap’s mouth dropped open as soon as the word slipped from your mouth but quickly clamped it shut as he locked eyes with his ever serious captain. Simon just shook his head, not completely in disbelief at your comment, but more in amusement that you’d been drunk enough to say something like that in front of the others. Gaz’s eyes widened because he definitely heard you call your captain, daddy, but he threw on a smooth grin as he looked over to the beautiful woman that you brought along with you. He was torn between clowning you for your kinky admission or letting it slide. He ultimately decided to put it on the back burner as the gorgeous woman locked eyes with his. You whipped your body around and stumbled your way toward the door. 

Price basically carried you to the car. He was supporting most of your body weight with his as he chuckled while navigating the two of you through the gravel filled parking lot. The pair of you reached the Black SUV and Price swept you into his arms as he opened the car door. 

“In we go, love.” As he situated you securely in the passenger seat. Just as he was about to close the door you slurred out a “wait.”

“What do you need, sweet girl?”

“I’m sorry for being like this, daddy. I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t mean to be a burden.” He chuckled and brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hand.

“You’re not a burden, love. You just had a bit too much to drink. It happens. As long as you had fun, I really don’t mind it.”

“God,” you said with a sigh, “You’re so hot. Can we have sex?” The warmth returned to his face at the admission. He had no intentions of doing anything with you tonight except maybe brushing your teeth and tucking you into bed. He sighed with a soft smile and closed the door. 

“You truly are something special.” He said into the nothingness as he walked around the car.

The rest of the night was a blur for you but all you remember was Price carrying you back into the safe house then lying in the soft covers of a bed and finally drifting out of consciousness.

Price sat next to you in bed and watched your sleeping figure as your soft snores filled his ears. When he was satisfied with the amount of breaths that fell from your lips, he lowered himself into the sheets next to you and lost his own battle with consciousness. 

--- --- ---

When you awoke, you were met with the sight of an empty bed and the sun shining through the flowing curtains. You looked over to the on-suite and saw your burly captain brushing his teeth at the sink. You released a content sigh as you turned onto your side. You felt yourself being pulled back into the warm embrace of sleep but as soon as you were at the cusp of consciousness, you felt the bed dip next to you. You kept your eyes closed but felt your captain just sitting there. You heard his breaths as he sat motionless next to you. The air grew tense as a beat of silence passed. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the heat of his gaze. Was he just staring at you? Was he going to say anything? 

“What are you doing?” You probed, anticipating a gruff response.

No reply and then a long, heady sigh. 

You started to turn your head until you felt a warm, firm body press against your back. Price’s body molded into yours as he reached around your front to find the hand that rested on the sheets. His hand found yours and you gawked at the difference in size. His hand engulfed yours in a warm embrace as he gave it a soft squeeze. His face nuzzled into the nape of your neck as he filled his lungs with your scent. His hairy chest was snug against your back as you felt his lips purse against your warm skin. 

The tension grew as he shifted his hips forward against yours. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his bulge firm against your ass. He let out a low hum behind you at the feel of your soft bottom against him. Your mind started running through scenarios as you tried to recall the events that took place last night. How did you end up in bed with your captain? Did you fuck your captain? Did you do what you’ve been craving since your first meeting almost two years ago?

“We should talk about it, love.” He said with a firm squeeze to your hand. 

“Did we… Did we have sex last night?” The words came out far meeker than you had intended. He let out a small sigh and pushed his head deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“No.” Before he placed a soft kiss against the side of your neck. You felt a chill run down your spine at the intimate act. “You were far too inebriated for me to feel comfortable doing anything to you.” He hummed as he began to pepper delicate kisses on your neck.

“I wanted you to.” Slide its way, breathlessly and truthfully, from your lips. 

“I know.” His hips shifted into yours, allowing you to feel him fully. Feel the warm, firm thickness that John had hidden under his shorts. “You looked stunning last night. Seeing you free and enjoying yourself like that, it made me feel things.” A gasp slipped from your lips as you felt his cock twitch against your bum. “Things I thought I had buried. Things that aren't right. Things that I shouldn’t feel about you.” He rocked his hips into you as his hand tightened around yours. “Then you danced your way over to me, looking at me like I hung the moon in the sky. Calling me what you did.” He groaned in your ear at the memory as he rolled his covered length into your behind. “You remember what you called me, love?” A fervent pulse into your rear. His hand left yours and trailed its way up your front, stopping just under your breast. 

You couldn’t say anything. Your mind had just gone blank as your captain began to frot into your clothed ass. “Hm? Do you remember, sweet girl?” His hand made its way into the valley of your breasts and he pressed, pushing your torso impossibly close to his. Your back and ass flush against the mountain of a man. 

“I-”

“Do you need me to remind you?” His hips curled into yours. Your thighs tightened and your pussy clenched around nothing. Air slipped from your mouth as your words were trapped in your throat. Lost searching for words as his cock rubbed into the covered crevice of your ass. The intimacy of the act had dulled your thoughts. The only thing that filled your mind was him and the effect that he had on you. 

“Ah. I- Price.” 

“No. Not that. That's not what you called me seven times.” His hand made its way to your gulping throat. “That’s not the name you used. No, I don't think so. That's not what you said in front of the others.” You pressed your ass into him needing to feel more of the thick bulge that was trapped between you, your underwear and his. 

“Please.” Was all that you could conjure as your mind told you to take matters into your own hands. Your trembling hand made its way between the two of you searching for the thick length that was causing the blankness in your mind. The man jerked his hips away from you. Away from your desperate touch. 

“Ah ah. Not until you say it. I know you know it sweet girl. You wouldn’t let me forget it last night.” His voice had a deep, raspy quality to it that you’d never heard from him before. It set your core ablaze. 

“Captain please.” His grip on your throat began to constrict as your hand searched behind you desperately seeking the source of warmth you’d just lost.

“Getting closer.” His other hand slipped under your neck and replaced the hand he had tightening on your throat. The hand that was originally at your throat made its way down your body as you trembled at the sensation of his warm fingers teasing your body. 

“Mmmmmm fuck. Please please. I-” His fingers made their way into the waistband of your absolutely drenched panties. Your hips twitched at the sensation. He pressed his palm just above where you needed him. His breathing deepened in your ear. He growled in your ear. Deep, full bodied like a scotch. Gravelly.

“Say it.” Your hips twitched at the command. 

“Price I- please I’m-,” the words racked your brain as you tried to concentrate. His fingers on your pubic mound just began to tap. Light yet so impactful as his fingers just danced upon you. You tilted your hips upward trying to catch their movement just a bit lower. So close to where you needed him. The words tumbled out of your mouth at breakneck speeds.

“Daddy, please.” You were almost crying now. He tugged your ear lobe between his teeth as he sank two fingers into your weeping pussy.

“Oh fuck yes.”

“Say it again, sweet girl.” No hesitation. No stammer. 

“Daddy. Fuck.” He rocked his hips back into yours as he plunged in and out of you. The meat of his palm rubbed harshly against your puffy clit. An exhale forced itself from your lips that was soon accompanied by a low whine.

“You wouldn’t stop fucking looking at me last night.” Rock.

He licked the side of your neck as he breathed heavily against your ear. He curled his fingers inside of you as the breaths were forced from your lungs. 

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Rock.

“Like you had some kind of spell on me. Your hips. Watching them sway in that dress.” Rock.

“You- uh fuck- wouldn’t stop.” He groaned as he pushed his fingers in further. Rock.

“You insatiable little slut. I shouldn’t even fuck you right now.” His hand constricted around your throat again. The man was tearing you apart with just his fingers and his voice.

“I- oh my god. I’m so sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean it.” The groan that ripped from his throat shifted something inside of you. You needed to hear him make that sound again. Your hand fumbled behind you as you searched for his cock. John tilted his head away from your ear as he watched your clumsy ministrations. You, frantically searched behind you. 

“Desperate girl.” He chuckled over your shoulder. 

“Please, daddy. I just. I wanna make it better.” Maybe you were desperate. You really couldn’t care because the thing your really needed was so close yet being shielded from you by fucking fabric. “John fucking help me.” 

Wrong answer. 

He pulled his fingers from you and rolled out of the bed. Your body followed as he stood up. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please just- can you just-” Frustration was not a strong enough word to describe your feelings.

“Lie on your stomach.”

“Huh?”

“I won't repeat myself.” You wouldn’t even give him the chance to repeat himself as you laid yourself flat on the bed. 

“Hands behind your back.” You complied. Of course you did.

He gathered your wrists in his hand and ran his palm over the covered globe of your ass and you shivered at the touch. He yanked your panties down to your thighs and your newly exposed pussy fluttered at the change in temperature. 

“Fucking gorgeous. God look at that little pussy. It's too bad though.” You couldn’t see what he was doing behind you but your hips twitched in anticipation. 

Apologize. Yeah that’s what you should do. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

Smack.

An exhale left your lips that you didn’t even know you'd been holding. The pain hadn’t even fully begun before he dropped his palm onto the other cheek. You rocked your hips back in shock. 

“You don’t like to listen, sweet girl. No. You don’t think, do you?” The sting was red hot on your ass and you somehow couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching. He pressed your hands into your back and forced you to arch for him. He ran a thumb down your dripping slit. He dipped the tip of the thumb, just barely, into the opening of your weeping center. You shifted your weight back, further into his touch, and let out a soft moan. 

Smack. 

You pressed forward into the bed hoping to run from the sting that blossomed on your ass. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You whined.

“Sit still.” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

He let go of your hands and moved his own to the burning flesh that encompassed your ass. His hands squeezed and groped, kneaded, the plump fat that sat at your hips. 

“Calm down, sweet girl.” He soothed. With a firm grip of your ass, he turned his thumbs inward, and pulled the stinging cheeks apart. His thumbs sat just above your drenched slit. He pursed his lips and pushed a drop of spit from his lips. It landed on your perineum and trickled its way into your opening. You tried to still your hips as your mind conjured a visual of the filthy act. The picture you painted in your head had you shivering. 

“Are you gonna be good for me, love?”

“Yes, daddy.” You eagerly nodded your head against the pillow. 

He hummed behind you as he kneeled above your trembling body. He grabbed your hips and tilted them upward, deepening the arch of your spine. He pressed his weight against you as he shifted his own hips forward. His underwear was gone. You could finally feel just how massive he was as he shifted his bare hips into yours. He pressed his cock down between the globes of your ass and he rocked his weight into you. A light whimper left your lips as you felt the girth that hung between his legs. He pressed his thumb onto his cock and sank it down into your wet heat. 

The stretch was blinding as you forced yourself to calm your breathing and you felt him work your open on his cock. Your body shook as he made room for himself inside of you. It felt like the air had been pressed from your lungs. 

“Oh god yes. Thank you, daddy.” 

“Tight as a bloody vice.” A deep groan tumbled from his mouth as he dropped all of his body weight onto you. He let you adjust to his girth before he repositioned his arms and legs so he could support himself and fuck you proper. He pulsed his hips forward and you swear that you could feel him at your cervix. The kiss of his cockhead at your center sent a shiver through your body. 

“So fucking deep, daddy.”

“Yeah I am.” He sighed quietly. He rocked his hips into you again and you keened. You reached your hand up to his, needing to hold onto something as you prepared for what was to come. His thrusts began to pick up speed as he fucked you into the mattress. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of his hips slapping into yours and your quick releases of air as he fucked into you. A ragged growl left his throat as he straightened his legs and grabbed your neck. It was a blur of colors and gasps as he shifted the two of you over. He laid on his back with your back to his chest and planted his feet firm into the mattress. He slipped a hand around your front and found your neglected clit. His hips met your ass with a fierce clap. The sounds that left your mouth were quick little yaps as he fucked up into you. The change in angles had you feeling him even deeper than before and you were about to start seeing stars.  

You’d never been fucked like this. His hips shot upward and brought yours back down as they descended. The pressure of him driving into your aching pussy along with the tight, firm circles on your clit had you clenching tightly onto his cock. He was hitting all the right spots deep inside of you and taking care of your clit just the way you needed. All you could do was lay on top of him and take it as he basically used your body. His breathing had gone ragged as he pounded you.  

“Daddy I-”

“What sweet girl? Is it too much for you?” He smirked, out of breath beneath you as he pounded into your pussy. He stopped the circular movements on your clit as he pulled his hand away from your body. A frustrated goan fell from your lips at their removal. The groan was short-lived as tight gasp replaced it. Price quickly dropped his hand back down onto your clit in a sharp slap.

“Oh my god.” You squeaked.

He chuckled behind you and did it again. The sting from his motion had melded perfectly with the pleasure of him digging into you. Your pussy tightened around him as the sensations of his actions pushed you closer to the edge. He brought his hand back down onto your puffy clit and sighed into your ear. The only thing that slipped from your mouth were the short moans that were being punched out of you as you took what he gave you. 

“You gonna cum, sweet girl?” He taunted over your shoulder. His condescending tone had your pussy bearing down onto him. 

“Fuck. I feel you tightening up on me.” His voice had started to sound almost surprised as he made you take him. He placed his hand back on your pussy and used his index finger to rub small, intense circles on your clit. 

“I’m gonna cum, sweet girl. Where can I? Huh? Can I cum in you?” He ragged under you. 

“Fuck yes. Yes, daddy. Yes.”

“You gonna let me fill you up? Huh?” He sounded absolutely feral. He applied firmer pressure to your clit as he groaned into your shoulder. 

“Oh fuck, daddy” You threw your head back and dropped all of your weight onto him as you felt your release flood your system. Your back arched and your toes curled as you struggled to take air into your lungs. The intensity of the orgasm rendered you speechless and helpless as it washed upon you. Price’s movements grew sloppy as he tried to walk you through your release. You ground your hips into his as you rode out your high. 

“Fucking shit.” You felt your captain throb inside of you as he emptied himself into your aching cunt. You felt the warmth grow inside of you as his seed flooded your warm walls. 

He straightened out his legs and layed the two of you onto your sides. He left his softening cock inside of you as he wrapped an arm around your sweat drenched torso. All that could be heard in the room was the sound of your breaths syncing up as you laid there in bliss.  

“Holy shit.” You panted. 

“Mhm. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He sighed, breathlessly as he traced your senseless shapes onto your stomach.

“Yeah? Me too.”  You smiled as you turned your head to partially face him. 

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” His baby blues met your gaze.

“Because you’re a stubborn man.” A satisfied chuckle fell from his lips as he smiled at you.

“I guess so.” 

A beat passed as the two looked into each other's eyes. Your breaths had fallen in sync with one another.

“You told your friend that you loved me.” Somehow, more warmth spreads across your face and your eyes widen and his smile grows. 

“I- I do.” You said, meek as a mouse, as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. 

He leans over and places a soft, tender kiss to your lips. His lips feel surprisingly soft and only mildly chapped as they move against yours. He pulls back from you, breathless, as his eyes lock onto yours. 

“I love you too, sweet girl.” 

[a-hazbin-reader]

Hey did you get my ask/request of Alastor and Wife!reader having an argument and Alastor says something horrible to her leaving him to have to make up for it?

I did, I just have a lot of stuff in my inbox

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being in the DOGHOUSE

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor doesn't mind fighting, likes to bicker with and irritate those around him as some strange show of dominance

But his wife is an exception, he hates fighting with his wife and goes to great lengths to avoid it

Despite his efforts, you two do still fight from time to time and he hates it, he tries so hard to reign in that cruel part of him

He doesn't really even remember what started the fight, probably something dangerous he did that upset you

Something like the Adam stunt

And he probably tried to brush it off, his pride not letting him admit that your fears were warranted

You were understandably getting worked up over his dismissal, and he was getting irritated that you wouldn't just drop it

Everyone else in the hotel had scattered and hidden the moment you two started to uncharacteristically raise your voices at each other

Angel had to grab Niffy to stop her from watching the entire argument play out

He just doesn't want to scare you with the idea of losing him, he wants to be your strong, invincible husband

It makes him uncomfortable that you see beyond the powerful overlord demon and instead zero in on the man beneath it all

"Darling, I would understand your fears if I hadn't come back to you in one piece, but I'm here. With you. Perfectly fine."

You could rip your hair out due to frustration, almost in tears, how could he not understand how you felt?

"Alastor! That's not the point! You can't be so reckless! It's not just you that you have to worry about anymore! You have a wife! You have to live and be safe for me!"

He fears a pang of anger over being told what to do, rage and irritation over the unintentional reminder of his failure to win

Which makes his mind wander to his deal, his fucking leash

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes what he's saying

"If I knew that everything I do had to be approved by you then, I would've rethought this whole marriage ordeal."

Alastor regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, his ears folding back at the sight of your hurt expression

Your eyes have tears in them but you're doing your best to hold them in, turning on your heel to leave the room

"Wait-Darling, I didn't-"

"Just...give me some space, Alastor."

He regrets it so much, watching you walk away from him when he should be begging for forgiveness

He hates seeing you so upset but he hates being the reason for it even more

Alastor tries to give you the space you asked for, but it's difficult when all he wants to do is make up with you already

But he also doesn't want to actually talk about what happened

So he breaks fairly easily when he sees you again, coming up behind you and hugging you

Only to be shrugged off when he goes for a small kiss, left with a sinking feeling in his stomach

"I said to give me space, I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

Normally, Alastor loves it when you're cruel and cold, finds it a little hot, but when it's aimed at him? He hates it so fucking much

Literally looks like a kicked puppy when you walk away from him again, Charlie and Vaggie looking at anything but him

"You know what, Charlie? I do see that crack in the wall!"

He tries again later, sitting next to you and trying to wrap an arm around your shoulders while the radio bursts to life with a love song

Only to be rewarded with an ill hidden sniffle and you immediately getting up to walk away from him

"If you're not going to apologize and have a genuine conversation with me then don't even bother."

It's driving Alastor crazy not being able to be with you, to not be able to properly make up with you

But he still doesn't want to admit he messed up or have that uncomfortable conversation with you

So he tries lavish gifts and other romantic gestures that all get rejected or given to Niffty to do whatever she wants with them

"Yay!! I'm going to poison these and give them to the mother bugs!!"

Okay...maybe Angel should have these...

Alastor is starting to understand that he can't just gloss over this one

He understands it a little more later that night when you go to bed without him, and he's left too nervous to follow after you

Several hours into the night, the guilt eats at him and he breaks, sneaking into the bedroom

You're awake, your eyes red rimmed from crying but you manage to give him a glare before turning your back to him

"Darling, I believe I owe you an apology..."

The way your tense body relaxes is all he needs, crawling into bed with you and pulling you to his chest

It's a difficult pill for him to swallow, so it's easier for him to have these conversations with you like this

He doesn't want you to see his weakness even when he's laying it out for you

Luckily, Alastor is good with his words and you're willing to listen now that an apology is on the table

It's a long conversation that leaves you both sleepless and emotional in each other's arms

But things are settled and Alastor is forgiven, happy to be back in your good graces

He tried to be strong and hold himself back, he really did... but being without the warmth of your love was torture for him

It was a rough couple of hours for him

HA WHIPPED

"Angel, shut the fuck up before you get yourself killed!"

He's extra clingy and romantic with you for DAYS afterwards, making everyone else at the hotel practically nauseous

Except for Charlie, of course, she loves it

He's just so relieved that you've forgiven him, still disgusted with himself for even saying what he said

Asks you for yet another kiss that morning before Husk finally walks away, annoyed by Alastor's neediness

You don't mind your husband's clingy antics, enjoying the extra attention he's giving you

You should get mad at him more often

[hoshifighting]

Arranged Marriage

— Synopsis: Where you and Minghao parents had this grand scheme to merge their companies by marrying you off, thinking it'd be a brilliant business move. Determined to stake your claim and keep your marriage intact, your make a bold move during a business party—planting a lipstick-stained kiss on Minghao's lips and yanking him by his tie, leaving no doubt that he's yours and yours alone. — WC: 5.5k — WARNINGS: Smut, throat fucking, blowjob, fingering, penetrative sex, public make out, jealous kiss, angst, forced marriage, mentions of diets.

You're standing there in this fancy white dress, all sparkly and shiny, making your way down the aisle to where Minghao's waiting. He's looking all sharp in his suit, with his hair on point and a little smirk on his face. But as you're walking towards him, you can't help but remember the last time you two really talked was at some boring company event.

Now here you are, about to say your vows like you actually mean them. But deep down, you know it's all just a bunch of lies. You and Minghao both know it. It's all for show, to make your parents' company look good. And the worst part is, everyone at this big fancy wedding knows it too.

The party's huge, like a wedding and a business conference all mashed together. People you've never seen before are milling around, probably part of some shady business deal your parents cooked up. It's like this whole thing isn't even about love or unity anymore. It's just one big networking event disguised as a wedding.

But you go through the motions anyway, smiling and nodding like everything's perfect. You exchange vows that are as fake as the smiles plastered on both of your faces. And as the night goes on, you can't shake the feeling that this whole thing is just a sham. A pretty, expensive sham, but a sham nonetheless.

You watch as people schmooze and mingle, making deals and connections left and right. And you can't help but wonder if this is what your future holds too. A life of pretending, of smiling for the cameras while behind closed doors, it's all just business as usual.

But for now, you paste on your best fake smile and dance the night away, pretending that everything's okay. Because that's what you do when you're part of a family like yours. You put on a show, no matter what's really going on behind the scenes.

You're feeling suffocated by the crowd inside, like the tightness around your waist is almost causing claustrophobia. So you slip away to the backyard, sneaking a slice of cake from the waiters. Your mom had you on some ridiculous diet for a whole week leading up to this wedding, all so you could look "good" in your dress.

You plop down on a wooden bench, the dress spreading out in a big poof around you. Just as you're about to take a much-needed bite of cake, you're interrupted by a voice.

"Why isn't the bride inside enjoying her own party?" The voice belongs to Minghao, hands in his pockets as he stands there, looking at you.

You scoff, shooting him a look. "I'm sure no one's noticed. They're all too busy discussing the stock market or whatever." Your tone is sharp, the underlying tension between you and Minghao palpable.

Minghao snorts, clearly not impressed by your response. "Yeah, well, maybe if you spent less time worrying about your parents' company and more time actually enjoying life, you wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

You bristle at his comment, feeling a surge of anger rising within you. "Oh please, like you have any room to talk. Last time I checked, you were just as tangled up in all of this as I am."

Minghao's expression darkens, and for a moment, you worry you've gone too far. 

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a half-eaten slice of wedding cake. You watch him go, feeling a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite name. Maybe it's just the champagne talking, but for a brief moment, you can't help but wonder what life would be like if you weren't tied down by expectations and obligations. 

You stare at Minghao, disbelief written all over your face as you take in the sight of the one hotel room your parents booked for the both of you. A single queen-sized bed sits in the center of the room, effectively splitting the space into two halves. You shoot a glance at Minghao, and from the look in his eyes, you can tell he's just as shocked as you are.

The tension between you is palpable as you both stand there, sharing silent but deadly gazes. Finally, you break the silence, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Our parents booking us one room to 'get used' to each other. As if this whole shit wasn't enough already."

Minghao lets out a scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, because nothing says 'happily ever after' like forcing two strangers to share a bed on their wedding night."

You bite back a retort, opting instead for a more diplomatic approach. "Look, I think it's only fair that I take the bed and you can sleep on the couch."

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "And why is that?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation bubbling up inside you. "Because I'm the bride, for one," you retort, "and two, I've been on my feet all night, walking around in a dress that weighs a ton and heels that could rival skyscrapers. I think I deserve a decent night's sleep."

Minghao lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, please. Do you even know how exhausting it is to be the groom? I've been dealing with people all night, pretending to be someone I'm not, just like you."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms defiantly. "Fine," you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, "then let's settle this once and for all. Who's more tired: the bride who's been carrying around twelve kilograms of dress and heels all night, or the groom who's been putting on a show for hours on end?"

Minghao looks at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's trying not to smile. But then he shakes his head, a look of resignation crossing his face. "You win," he says, finally relenting, "you can have the bed."

You smirk triumphantly, feeling a small sense of victory despite the absurdity of the situation. And as you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

The next day rolls around, and before you even have a chance to properly wake up, you're thrown into a meeting. Brunch with both families sounds nice in theory, but when Minghao's dad starts putting papers on the table and declaring, "Let's get to what matters," you realize this isn't going to be a typical family gathering.

You try to maintain a facade of composure, but the discomfort gnaws at you like a persistent itch. So you do what you've gotten used to doing – you look down, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

Minghao notices immediately, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. His cheeks flush with embarrassment from his father's directness, but you can't bring yourself to look up and meet his eyes. The weight of expectation hangs heavy in the air, and you can practically taste the tension swirling around the table.

As Minghao's dad starts talking about business deals and partnerships, you try to focus on the sound of his voice rather than the sinking feeling in your stomach. But no matter how hard you try to block it out, you can't shake the feeling that you're just a pawn in someone else's game – a game you never asked to play.

You steal a glance at Minghao, but his expression is unreadable, his mask firmly in place. And in that moment, you realize just how alone you really are in this world of high-stakes deals and empty promises.

You're lounging on the couch, the TV blaring in the background, but your mind is miles away. The penthouse feels emptier than ever, despite being filled with all the trappings of luxury. You and Minghao live under the same roof, yet it feels like you might as well be living on opposite ends of the earth. Separate rooms, separate lives, with only a perfunctory "good morning" or "good night" exchanged between you.

The loneliness weighs heavy on your chest, suffocating you with its presence. You long for something more, something real, but it feels like an impossible dream in this gilded cage you've found yourself trapped in.

You're lost in the numbing glow of the television when your phone buzzes with a notification. It's Minghao, informing you of a press conference he's scheduled for later that night. You furrow your brow, puzzled by the sudden announcement.

But it's his last message from the previous night that catches your attention. "Can you at least put on your best smile tonight?" he'd asked, a request that feels more like a demand. And you can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his presumption.

You make your way to his room, finding him hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen casting harsh shadows across his face. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms as you watch him for a moment before speaking up.

"What do you mean by that?" you ask, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Put on my best smile? What's that supposed to mean?"

Minghao looks up from his computer, his expression unreadable. "It means exactly what it sounds like," he replies coolly, his tone clipped. "We both know how important appearances are in our world. So why not make an effort for once?"

You roll your eyes, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you. "I think you mean that you want me to play the dutiful wife once again, to plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything's fine," you snap, the bitterness seeping into your words.

Minghao's jaw tightens, and for a moment, it looks like he's about to argue back. But then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking suddenly tired and defeated. "Look, I know this isn't what either of us wanted," he says, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. "But it's what we have to do. For our families, for the company."

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. "Is that really all that matters to you? The company? "But fine," you say through clenched teeth, pushing yourself away from the doorframe. "I'll put on my best smile tonight. But don't expect me to enjoy it."

You sit in the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car, your gaze fixed on the passing landscape outside the window. The skyscrapers blur into a haze of steel and glass, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside your mind.

Minghao breaks the silence with a casual remark, his tone tinged with amusement. "You don't look like someone who agreed to the terms of our agreement," he observes, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

You let out a frustrated huff, tearing your eyes away from the window to glare at him. "Yeah, well, maybe I need some time before I can fully commit to this whole acting profession," you retort, your words dripping with bitterness.

Minghao presses his lips together, trying to suppress a laugh at your expense. The corners of his mouth twitch with amusement, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he looks away, pretending to be absorbed in the passing scenery.

You bristle at his reaction, feeling a surge of indignation coursing through you. "What's so funny?" you demand, your voice sharp with irritation.

Minghao shakes his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Nothing," he replies casually, his tone disarmingly nonchalant. "I mean, take all the time you need… Just try not to look too pitiful when we walk through those doors." 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively over your chest. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the chauffeur stops and opens the door for you, signaling your arrival at the event, Minghao's voice cuts through the silence.

"Hand," he says simply, holding out his hand towards you.

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a skeptical look. "Excuse me?" you reply, not quite sure you heard him correctly.

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk as he repeats himself, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I said, hand," he repeats, his tone playful yet insistent.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at his audacity, but begrudgingly, you reach out and grab his hand, almost aggressively. His grin widens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the touch surprisingly delicate despite the underlying tension between you.

As you and Minghao step into the event, hand in hand, you can feel the weight of your parents' surprised stares on you. Their eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the sight of you two holding hands, a rare display of unity between the two families.

Minghao squeezes your hand gently, a small smirk playing on his lips as he catches your parents' reaction. "See?" he murmurs softly, leaning in close to you. "It's easy. A little thing like this makes them happy."

You can't help but feel a surge of resentment bubbling up inside you at his words. Easy for him to say, you think bitterly. He's always been the one who effortlessly falls into line, who knows exactly how to play the game to get what he wants.

But despite your inner turmoil, you force a tight smile and nod in agreement, not wanting to cause a scene in front of your parents. "Yeah, easy," you echo, your voice strained as you try to keep up the facade.

As the long-winded speeches from the ambassadors drone on, you find yourself sinking deeper into your chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. Minghao leans in close, his voice a soft whisper against your ear as he asks if you want something from the bar. You shake your head, declining his offer with a tired sigh.

He nods in understanding and excuses himself, disappearing into the crowd for a moment. But as the minutes drag on and the speech finally reaches its conclusion, Minghao still hasn't returned. Your eyes scan the room, searching for any sign of him, and that's when you spot her – a woman leaning in close to him, her body language oozing with flirtation.

Your stomach churns with a mix of anger and disbelief. What does she think she's doing? That's your husband she's flirting with, for crying out loud. You glance down at your wedding ring, then back at Minghao, then down at your ring again, the weight of it heavy on your finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you stand up from the table, your movements cautious as you make your way over to them. Fuck, you hate that you're doing this right now, but you can't just sit idly by while some random woman tries to make a move on your husband.

Minghao's eyes widen in surprise as he catches sight of your determined gaze, and for a brief moment, you almost feel guilty for interrupting. But then you remember who you are – his wife – and the guilt fades away, replaced by a steely resolve.

"I have a wife," Minghao's voice cuts through the air, firm and unwavering, as you approach him and the woman who's been flirting with him. His words send a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily halting your steps.

But before you can even react, Minghao continues, his tone tinged with irritation, "And she's storming over here, so please, just leave me alone."

"Hi, Hao," you greet Minghao as you finally reach him, unable to hide the hint of irritation in your voice. "You took a long time. What happened?"

Minghao's eyes widen slightly at your abrupt approach, and he stammers for a moment before the woman beside him interjects, "Oh, she's your friend?"

Minghao's response is immediate and almost defensive. "No, I don't know her," he says quickly, his tone betraying his discomfort.

You can't help but suppress a smirk at his awkwardness, feeling a small surge of satisfaction at seeing him squirm. "Nice to meet you," you say smoothly, extending your hand to the woman. "I'm Mrs. Xu."

The woman's eyes widen in surprise as she takes your hand, clearly caught off guard by your assertive introduction. "Oh, um, nice to meet you too," she replies, her voice slightly shaky.

You turn your attention back to Minghao, noting the relief in his eyes as you come to his "rescue." Poor Minghao, you think to yourself, feeling a twinge of sympathy for him despite your earlier annoyance. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation, and the sight of you coming to his aid seems to help him breathe a little easier.

The woman walks away, leaving you and Minghao standing there in the aftermath of the awkward encounter. You turn to him, your expression a mix of frustration and concern.

"Come on, Minghao," you begin, your voice low but firm. "You need to know how to handle situations like that. What if people who know our family saw that? It could cause all sorts of rumors and complications."

Minghao's jaw tightens as he meets your gaze, a flicker of defensiveness in his eyes. "I didn't ask for her to approach me," he retorts, his tone defensive. "I told her I have a wife. What more do you want from me?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your temper in check. "I just want you to be more aware of how your actions reflect on both of us," you reply, your voice tinged with exasperation. "We're married, Minghao. That means we have to think about each other's reputations and how our behavior affects them."

Minghao's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a stubborn set to his jaw as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I know that," he says, his voice quieter now, more subdued. "But sometimes things happen, and I can't control them."

You shake your head, feeling a surge of frustration rising within you. "That's not an excuse, Minghao," you say firmly. "We both have to do better if we want this marriage to work. We have to be a team."

Minghao's lips twitch into a smirk of his own, a challenge flashing in his eyes as he steps closer to you. "Oh, is that so, Mrs. Xu?" he replies, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "And what exactly would it take for me to earn back the privilege of being called by my first name?"

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh at his cheekiness. "Maybe if you stopped getting yourself into awkward situations with random women at parties," you shoot back, unable to resist the opportunity for a playful jab.

Minghao feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Hey now, that wasn't entirely my fault," he protests, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Besides, you were the one who came to my rescue, remember?"

Minghao's playful grin falters as you shoot him a pointed look, hands firmly planted on your hips. "Am I wrong now? What should I do then?" you challenge, your tone laced with frustration.

He shrugs, his expression sheepish as he searches for an answer. "You need to make them know I'm your husband," he suggests vaguely, a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.

You narrow your gaze, a surge of determination coursing through you as you follow his line of sight to the woman who had been eyeing him earlier. She's still watching him, her gaze lingering a little too long for your liking.

"Fine then," you declare, your jaw set in determination. Without another word, you reach out and grab Minghao by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Before he can protest, you press your lips to his in a firm, possessive kiss.

For a moment, Minghao freezes, his hands hovering uncertainly in the air. But then, as if realizing what's happening, he responds eagerly, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as the kiss deepens.

You trail kisses along his neck, feeling a low hum of satisfaction reverberate through him. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as you continue to explore the sensitive skin of his neck with your lips.

When you pull back slightly, his eyes meet yours, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths. You reach up and gently tug on his bottom lip, a silent invitation for him to surrender completely to the passion between you.

Minghao's lips part in response, his eyes darkening with desire as he leans in to capture your mouth in another searing kiss. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, the intensity of the moment threatening to consume you both.

As you finally break the kiss, your lips swollen and tingling with the taste of him, you look at his face, satisfied with your handiwork. His lips, jaw, and neck are adorned with smudges of your red lipstick, a visible testament that being arranged or not, he is your husband.

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you reach out and grab Minghao by the tie, tugging him gently but firmly in the direction of the exit. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but he follows your lead without hesitation.

As you walk through the party, you make no effort to hide the fact that you're leading Minghao out by his tie. You want everyone to see, especially that woman who dared to flirt with him earlier. With each step, you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing that you're marking your territory, making it abundantly clear to anyone watching that Minghao belongs to you.

People turn to look as you pass by, their curious glances met with a confident smile from you and a sheepish grin from Minghao. You hold your head high, your grip on his tie unwavering as you guide him through the crowd.

Finally, you reach the exit, and with one last glance around the room, you pull Minghao outside, the cool night air washing over you both. Alone at last, you turn to him with a victorious smirk.

"Well, that was fun," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you release his tie. "But I think we've made our point. Shall we get out of here?"

Minghao chuckles, shaking his head in amusement as he takes your hand in his. "Absolutely," he replies, a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. "Anywhere you want to go, Mrs. Xu."

As soon as you step through the door of your home, you're wrapped up in a frenzy of passionate kisses with Minghao. Clothes, shoes, and his tie fly off haphazardly as you stumble towards the nearest surface, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Between kisses, Minghao pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I didn't know you were that jealous," he murmurs, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You hiss in response, your breath catching in your throat as his lips trail along your skin. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, your voice tinged with frustration. "I was just...rescuing you, you bastard!"

Minghao laughs at your outburst, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, just like a predator," he teases, his hands roaming over your body with a newfound confidence.

You scoff at his comment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "You've seen nothing yet," you reply, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Minghao's eyes light up with excitement as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Yeah," you confirm with a smirk, pulling him in for another kiss.

But then, his hand moves to the top of your head, gently guiding you downwards until your knees find the ground. You look up at him with a mixture of desire and anticipation, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you eagerly await his next move.

With a shaky breath, Minghao pulls himself free from his pants, his cock standing proudly before you. You wrap your hand around it, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath your touch. A wicked grin plays at your lips as you tap the tip of his cock against your face, biting your lip in anticipation.

Minghao lets out a shaky moan at the provocative sight before him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you. "Fuck, you're so damn sexy," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You smirk up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you tease him with your lips. "Mmm, maybe," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction. "But I want to hear you say it. Tell me how much you want me, Minghao."

His breath hitches as he meets your gaze, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guides you closer to him. "I want you more than anything," he confesses, his voice thick with desire. "I need you, baby. Please, show me how much you want me too."

You eagerly lower your mouth onto Minghao's throbbing cock, sucking greedily as you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. You can feel him thrusting his hips, the need for more driving him to move against you.

Your hands slide down to his thighs, giving him the freedom to move as he pleases. His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he sets the pace, his hips rocking against you in a rhythm of his own making.

As you take him deeper, you close your eyes, relaxing your jaw to accommodate his length. Minghao's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure, his words a gentle reminder of his concern for your well-being.

"Tap if you need to breathe," he murmurs, his hand tightening in your ponytail as he continues to move his hips.

You press your hand against his thigh in affirmation, letting him know that you're okay as you continue to take him deeper, your throat working to accommodate his length. Minghao lets out a low groan of pleasure, his hips moving in tandem with your movements as you both chase the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Between thrusts, Minghao's voice fills the air with a husky whisper. "God, you feel so fucking good," he moans, his words driving you to take him even deeper. "You're amazing, baby. Just keep going, just like that."

As Minghao's cock throbs in your mouth, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Drool drips from your chin, a testament to your eagerness and arousal, as you continue to take him deeper, your mouth working tirelessly to please him.

With each throb of his cock, you can feel the tension building, the heat of his arousal radiating through you. Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in a haze of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Minghao's cock pulses in your mouth, you know that you've pushed him to the edge, his release imminent. With one final throb, he cries out your name, his body tensing as he spills his cum into your waiting mouth.

You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him. You moan softly as Minghao's lips meet yours again, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, and he slowly guides you towards his room.

As you fall onto the bed, Minghao's fingers trace lazy patterns along your inner thighs, making you squirm beneath his touch, unable to hide your arousal as he gazes down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

"You're so wet…" he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to tease you with his fingers.

Minghao's lips curl into a smug grin as his fingers trailing lower until they reach the damp fabric of your panties. With agonizing slowness, he begins to peel them away, revealing your glistening folds to his hungry gaze.

"Tell me what you want, baby" he whispers, his voice a low growl in your ear as he leans in close. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

You arch your back, aching for his touch as you meet his gaze with a sultry smirk. "I want your fingers inside me, Minghao" you breathe, your voice dripping with desire. "I want you to make me come so fucking hard"

Minghao's eyes darken with lust as he hears your words, his fingers finding their way to your slick entrance. With a wicked grin, he plunges his slender fingers deep inside you, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, he finds it – that deep spot that sends electric jolts shooting through you. Your pussy clenches around his fingers in response, a desperate attempt to hold your orgasm.

But Minghao isn't finished yet. With a wicked grin, he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers his intentions. "You're not going to cum yet," he murmurs. "Let me hit that spot with my cock, then you can cream around it as much as you want."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, with the promise of what's going to come. With a nod of agreement, you bite your lip in anticipation, eager for the moment when Minghao will fuck you with his cock.

As Minghao positions himself above you, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of pleasure to come, you sneak a peek at his cock. It's long, with bulging veins and dripping with pre-cum, making it clear he's rock hard and ready to go. The contrast with his slender body just makes it look even bigger.

Before you can even think of a response, Minghao speaks up, his voice low and husky. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, his eyes smoldering with desire.

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can get a word out, his cock is stretching you out, leaving you breathless and speechless as he fills you completely.

As soon as Minghao finds your g'spot, your pussy immediately tightens around him, milking him with such intensity that he has to hold himself back from coming right then and there. His pretty moans only serve to heighten your own arousal, making it even harder for you to hold back your impending orgasm.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he tries to control himself. He hopes that you'll stop clenching, but as soon as he hits that spot again, he hisses in response, the sensation driving him wild.

Realizing that he's in danger of cumming too early, Minghao decides to focus on fucking you in just the right way, hitting that spot with precision and intensity. He squirms, desperate for you to climax first, knowing that your pleasure will only fuel his own.

With each thrust, each movement, the pleasure builds between you, reaching a fever pitch that threatens to consume you both. Minghao's hips move in a steady rhythm, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you with each thrust, his own pleasure mounting with each passing second.

And then, finally, it happens. You reach the peak of ecstasy, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as pleasure washes over you in relentless waves. Your pussy clenches around Minghao's cock, milking him for all he's worth as he loses control, his own release crashing over him in a tidal wave of pleasure.

With a tired groan, Minghao collapses beside you, his body spent from the intensity of your shared passion. He turns to you with a lazy smile, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

"If I'd known all it took to get you to kiss me was making you jealous, I would've done it ages ago," he teases, his voice laced with amusement.

You roll your eyes, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I wasn't jealous," you protest, crossing your arms over your chest.

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his expression incredulous. "Imagine if you were then" he scoffs, his tone teasing. "I don't think we'd be here right now if you weren't just a little bit jealous."

You huff in mock indignation, but deep down, you know he's right.

ou nudge Minghao playfully, a smile dancing on your lips. "Well, lucky for you, a little jealousy was all it took," you quip, teasing him.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling as he gazes at you. "I guess I'll have to remember that for next time," he replies, his voice tinged with amusement.

You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, so there's going to be a next time now?" you tease, raising an eyebrow.

Minghao grins, leaning in closer to you. "Count on it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he brushes his lips against yours.

[aduh0308]

see if i can help~? [choi yeonjun]

summary: you were never afraid to talk about anything personal with yeonjun, which was why it wasn't a big deal when you told him you've been having trouble pleasuring yourself lately... it just doesn't feel as good anymore. what you weren't expecting, however, was him offering to help, saying he can make you feel as good as you want to... and why would you say no? genre: b2l, smut (p with like a lil plot), non-idol au warnings: dom!yeonjun x sub!fem!virgin!reader, soft!dom and slight hard!dom yj, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, vaginal penetration, dacryphilia, slight dumbification, unprotected sex, creampie + breeding kink, bulge kink, slight praise kink, hand holding, alcohol consumption, reader hasnt shaved, reference to reader getting off to the thought of him previously, calls her doll and baby, edging, nipple play for a sec, handjob, slight sub!yeonjun, hes a crybaby lol, semi-public sexy time scene, she calls him 'pretty' and 'pretty boy' and 'good boy' word count: 6.3k 🎧 — gentleman (gallant) + jenny (studio killers) + all mine (plaza) + so high school (taylor swift) taglist: @agustdiv1ne @beom-pyu @yxnjvnnie @junsmintchoco @liverspaghett @sayitdido @fairyofshampgyu @tyungelic an: happy bday yj~~ is this the beginning of adas comeback? who knows 🤭 (this is for all y'all waiting for this since july 2023, i sincerely apologize) + thank you so much to @chyuuiung for being such a sweetheart and proofreading for me ❤️

Your phone rings and you sigh at the obnoxious song your best friend had replaced the default for months ago. You still haven't changed it, but you're not completely sure why. You obviously don't love the song, but you do love your best friend, and you guess it's just because it reminds you of him that you keep it.

And... it's him calling now. You pick up your phone in your palm, swipe the 'accept' button, and hold it up to your ear.

"YN. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!!"

You flinch, holding the phone at arms length. Ears ringing, you yell into the speaker, "STOP YELLING JJUN!!"

"YOU'RE YELLING TOO, IDIOT!" You can hear him even from this distance.

"I'LL STOP IF YOU STOP."

"Fine. Truce accepted." Yeonjun sighs into the receiver, pausing for a moment. You're just about to ask why he's calling when he speaks again, like he spaced out for a second and then brought it back. "You still have to come over, though."

You stare at the state of your desk. A deadline for your college assignment is almost upon you, and you've got multiple papers and electronic devices spread out before you. "Why.. Jjunie, I've got so many things I need to do..."

And this time, you should probably ACTUALLY do them instead of having your hand down your pants.

"Yn.. did you forget what day it is?" His voice is quiet, soft but prodding slightly, and you can't help but feel guilty when you check the date. You had forgotten.

It was your 8th friendiversary, the anniversary of the time Yeonjun had decided to talk to the cute girl who was practically in charge of his Lit class. And every day since then he's stuck by you like an actual idiot.

"Yeonjun, I'm really sorry, I- I forgot and I've got a whole lot of stuff I need to do... I don't know if I can make it tonight."

Your heart is tight in your chest and you put a hand in your hair, looking down at your papers.

"One night, Yn. One night is all we need to celebrate, we do this every year, can't you take off 24 hours?" You can hear the plea in his voice, and it makes you take a deep breath.

You close your eyes and think this through. The paper is due in three days, you're more than three quarters done and that took only four days, that leaves enough time to finish and proofread and...

"Fine. Alright. I'm coming. Give me 15 minutes?"

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he responds. "See you then."

And 15 minutes later, you're there, on his couch and sipping his wine.

"Tell me what you've been up to, Jjunie. Haven't seen you in at least a few weeks," You grin, smiling at him over your glass.

"You know... Work, school, just the usual."

You raise your eyebrows teasingly, then wiggle them. "Any special girls you have your eye on?"

You say it in a joking way, but deep inside, you hope the answer is no. But you're not exactly sure WHY that would be... you've never been opposed to his previous girlfriends before. In fact, you liked most of them.

Yeonjun lowers his gaze to the floor with a shy smile before looking back up at you, and that's the moment you know. "Well... actually... there IS this one girl I've been thinking about recently."

You smile, because that's what you did every time you've had this conversation previously. "Yes? Who is she?"

His cheeks go pink and he waves you away. "No one. I- No one."

Well, that's different. Usually he told you without hesitation, some girl from uni or a coworker or even someone he met online. But now he's being a little suspicious...

You don't push it, though. That was an unspoken rule between the two of you: you don't push the other person to tell you something unless it really, really matters.

"Anyways, what about you? Any boys on your mind?"

You press your lips together and think for a moment. "Ye- No... wait yes, no, no never mind. I wish though."

Yeonjun raises his eyebrows at you and smiles slightly, adjusting his position on the couch next to you to cross one leg over the other. "And how come you wish?"

His movement had brought him a little closer to you, and, much to your confusion, you can feel your heart rate speed up.

You ignore it and mimic his position. "Cause. I've got a little bit of a problem, and sometimes I wish I had someone to help."

"Problem?"

You stifle a giggle and take another sip of your wine. "Of the sexual variety."

"How so?"

Yeonjun's face is devoid of anything uncomfortable, and you shrug. "Getting myself off doesn't feel as good as it used to. I don't know, maybe I just need to switch it up but... whatever, it probably sounds dumb." You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the nape of your neck.

"Do you have any toys you could use?" he asks, and for a moment you think he's making fun of you, but the way he holds your gaze with his is dead serious.

You nod. "I've tried... it didn't work very well. Just felt like one dull thing the entire time. I KNEW that I came, it just didn't feel like it, you know?"

Yeonjun nods. "And you don't have anyone to fuck you?"

The way he says it is so casual it makes your cheeks grow hot. Almost embarrassed at your inability to find a sexual partner, you shake your head. "No." You're not even sure if he knows you're a virgin.

Yeonjun looks down at his drink for a moment, other hand fiddling with the hem of the black tank he's wearing, the one that makes you focus a little too much on his collarbones whenever he wears it. Then he looks back at you, cheeks a little pink.

"Do you... want to, um, see if i can help?" he asks, and you understand why his cheeks were flushed. Your own are hot, and you swallow slightly.

To be fair, it's not like you don't want him to. Your eyes trace the obviously attractive lines of his body and when he catches you looking, his eyes go wide.

He rushes to apologize for his words, but you shake your head quickly. "No, you're good, don't- don't apologize, of course we can, I mean, you're hot and you're offering and I-"

Yeah, you decide to shut your mouth here, which is probably the smartest decision you've ever made, because holy shit, you just told your best friend you think he's hot.

And he noticed. Now he's smirking at you, eyebrows raised and the most cocky look on his face.

To your surprise, he doesn't say anything else, simply moving to a separate position on the couch and spreading your legs slightly. One is off the couch, the other over the back, and it's uncomfortable but not so much that you mind.

Yeonjun's laying between your legs and he looks up at you from beneath his lashes. Your already speeding heart beats even faster at the look he gives you, tongue swiping over his lips just once.

"Tell me if you change your mind?"

Him checking in is sweet, but you can tell you're dripping right now, and prolonging this is only making you more impatient. You give him your most annoyed expression and he laughs, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your jean shorts. Yeonjun tugs them off with one movement and you can feel his torso tense with a short breath.

You almost giggle to yourself at the way his eyes blow out at the visible wet spot in your panties. You slide them off yourself, watching his reaction again to your bare pussy in front of him, a swallow cutting off whatever words he was going to say.

And all of a sudden, you're hit with a wave of insecurities unfamiliar to you, especially unfamiliar around Yeonjun. 'Does my body look weird to him? Will he not like it? Oh shit, I haven't shaved down there in months, what if he backs off because he doesn't like body hair...'

You try to clear your thoughts, focusing on his expression alone. Lips pushed out in a pout, black hair swept out of his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. You bite your own lip and move to close your legs. "Jjun... is it bad?"

His gaze snaps up to yours so fast its unsettling, eyes going wide once more. They narrow slightly as a smirk finds its way to his perfect plump lips. Ah shit, now you were simping for his lips. Again.

"No, not bad at all, just thinking about how long my best friend kept her pretty pussy from me..."

His words leave you speechless, immobile as he pushes your legs apart once more, slender fingers on your now bare thighs making you tremble. Yeonjun just smiles up at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "For someone saying she wasn't sensitive enough, you sure do get wet so easily, don't you, n/n?"

"Fuck you, Jjun, it's not usually like this."

You scowl down at him, because it's never like this... you can feel your slick dripping down to your ass. Shit, he's got you all a mess.

But your words are apparently the wrong thing for the situation, because the look on his face is nothing but cocky. "Am I that hot then? Hot enough that I've got you dripping and I haven't even touched you?"

You can't meet his eyes. Because the answer's yes, it's always been yes.

Since you met him that day 8 years ago, you've had at least a minor crush on him. It would wean itself whenever he had girlfriends-- you're not a homewrecker. But it was always there to some extent, presenting itself through hot cheeks at his compliments, racing heartbeats when he got too close.

As of late, though, your little crush presented itself through your hands shoved down your pants at night. You know it's bad, gross, perverted even, but you can't help it. He came over to your house and you listened to music in your bed together? You're laying in the same bed at night, playing the same music, toying with your clit.

You've even gone so far as to spell his name out against your sensitive bud with circles of your fingertip, gasping out "oh fuck, Yeonjun, don't stop..." as you cum.

You absolutely never expected any of that to come close to coming true.

And now, here he is, between your thighs, awaiting your response with an expectant look.

"I...-" You cut yourself off out of need to preserve your self esteem. "Will you shut up and just touch me like you're supposed to?"

Your gaze settles on the ceiling, unable to give another glance to the sight between your legs.

"Jjun, I swear to god, if you don't— oh, fuck!"

Your hand shot out to grab his hair without a single thought— his tongue had found its place between your folds so fast that your thighs jolted together involuntarily.

"I fucking hate you, why would you just start there? You know I'm— fuck— know I'm a, Jjun, stop!— you know I'm a virgin, n-never..."

He barely listens to you, eyes on your pussy, and just laughs. Laughs when your head lolls back against the couch cushion, your legs shaking. Your grip on his hair doesn't cease, it only tightens the more his tongue laves your soaked cunt.

Yeonjun is your opposite— a master at this, you have no idea how many girls he's fucked before, you know you're not his first. But right now, his face between your legs while he absolutely devours you, you couldn't care less.

He knows exactly where to do what, catching your clit between his lips with a hum. Obscene sounds are all you can hear as he laps at your wetness, acting like you're the best thing he's ever tasted.

His hands are gentle on your thighs, pushing them farther apart to taste you even better. They meet your stomach to push you back down when your hips shift up to rut against his face, and the feeling makes your stomach twist in pleasure.

"Pretty doll's so pretty under me, don't worry, I'll make your first time so good, promise.." Yeonjun's tone is a purr against you, and you whine. He only coos, "Awh, baby, did you think I wasn't gonna take care of you? Gonna make you feel so good, like you've never felt before.."

You look down at him, tears filling your waterline. "Jjun, feels good 'lready, don' know if I can take more..."

"I've got you, alright? You can let go for me baby, never gonna hurt you."

Your mind is fuzzy, pleasure rolling up every limb of your body in soft tingly ways— Yeonjun's lips have you a goner so easily it's almost embarrassing. Not gone enough, however, to skip over the fact that his hips are rolling against the cushions in a rhythm not unlike the one he was eating you out with.

"C-can you use your fingers, please?" you gasp, rolling your hips against his face with so much desperation its almost embarrassing.

But the familiar tightening sensation in your stomach is building, and when the finger Yeonjun's nestled between your walls curls in towards your stomach, your walls are fluttering around his single digit.

A broken whine leaves your lips when the sensation is ripped away from you. Yeonjun looks at your shaking form with a look that makes you melt— eyes soft on yours, lips pulled into a small smile. Lips that are connected to your cunt with a single string of your arousal.

"Why'd you stop, was close..." Your dignity is gone by now, and you have no qualms about sounding pouty and needy to him.

"You're not gonna cum around anything other than dick your first, alright? Gonna make it worth your while," he hums, standing and pulling the hem of his black tank over his head.

Your lips form a small o of surprise. It's not like you haven't seen him shirtless before. You have, plenty of times. But fuck, he really isn't that scrawny boy from grade 11 anymore.

Smooth honey-gold skin, ripples of muscles under his skin cause slight shadows on his torso and arms. His shoulders are broad, broader than you've let yourself realize, and you find yourself holding your breath when he slips his thumb under the waistband of his grey sweatpants.

They're low on his hipbones, which are angular and prominent, reminding you of sex. That could also just be the fact that you're in such a deep stage of need that you can't think straight.

In one deft movement, his sweatpants are off and on the floor, and why the fuck was he wearing Calvin Klein underwear? You swallow once, still laying akimbo on his couch, and he looks over at you with a shy smile.

The sheer quiet uncertainty of his expression causes something to possess you to say, "You look hot. Like really fucking sexy. " You chew your lip when he smiles slightly, his ears pink. "I think you should fuck me now."

Yeonjun laughs out loud at that. "I'm not even naked yet, you're so impatient.."

"Please?"

"Fine..." He moves to tug his boxers off, and you could slap yourself at the little involuntary noise your throat makes.

Oh.

Now you understand why he only laughed at all the jokes you've made about him being small.

He's definitely not small— bigger than average, with a very slight upward curve and a prominent vein winding its way up the underside. His tip is flushed the pink of his lips, leaking dribbles of precum down the side of his shaft.

No wonder he pulls.

His eyes meet yours, he lets out a quiet giggle at your slack jaw. "Is it okay, then?"

You nod once, calm yourself, and whisper, "I don't think it's gonna fit."

"Told you I'll take care of you, won't hurt you, I promise."

Yeonjun joins you on the couch once more and you can't resist anymore. Pressing a desperate kiss to his lips and pulling him closer by the smooth of his shoulders, you can feel him smile against your lips. His are soft and plush and feel like heaven. It's not like you haven't kissed him before— you were 20 and lonely and it was a particularly rough night, not a great combo.

But this is different.

His mouth is warm and inviting, his hands gripping your arms to pull you closer, and you let out a soft whimper when he draws you into his lap. His dick is pressed right against your clit, unbearably tempting and you mumble, "Please, Jjun, need you..."

Yeonjun holds you with almost uncharacteristic sweetness as he moves you under him, and you press your face to his neck, leaving soft kisses to his moles.

His tip grows your entrance and he lets out a soft moan, first erotic noise of the night, and a noise that sends you reeling. Pushing past the tight rim of muscle, he pauses to allow you to get adjusted.

Yeonjun rolls his hips against yours, never letting more than an inch of him inside you for fear of hurting you, and you cling to him, because holy fuck, this was not what you expected.

Fucking your best friend is an interesting experience.

Legs wrapped around his back trying to pull him closer, he only smiles, laughing at your needy whines.

"N-need, please, Jjun, can take you, promise..." Teary eyes meet his hooded gaze as your babbles are met with silence. He presses a kiss to your neck to quiet you, cockhead repeatedly pushing itself inside your gummy walls while you beg underneath him. His thumb presses against your clit and the touch is some relief— but little.

He tsks in your ear moments later, "Need to prep you baby, alright? Gotta get you ready for your first time, 'specially since it's with me, don't wanna ruin this pretty pussy just yet..~"

Yeonjun loves the way you writhe underneath him, trying to force your hips closer to his. It makes his own reserved pleasure that much better.

Your shirt is hiked up from the friction between you two, and he pulls the soft fabric up all the way, practically drooling at the sight of your tits. "Such a pretty body, doll, can't believe no one's gotten to take you yet, 'm lucky it's me.."

You can only nod quickly, gripping his forearm for some sort of grounding sensation, because you can feel the drag of his cock along your walls and it's fucking glorious.

"Jjunie, please, can take you, can take it, I'll be so good for you, take it all, I promise..!"

Your head rocked back, Yeonjun smiles softly, pressing his forehead to yours. "Don't wanna hurt you, too pretty, don't wanna make you cry," he mumbles.

You shake your head hard. "Won't hurt me, can do it, can do it, please."

You watch him wrestle with this mentally, and notice the exact moment he loses it all.

Kissing you hard, tongue meeting yours and taking your breath away, his hips inch closer and closer to yours until your skin is against his. His body is warm against yours, and there's a slight tremor in him that throws you off a little.

Yeonjun's not faring well with you around him. He knew you were going to feel like fucking heaven when he was inside you for the first time, but he needed to seriously work if he wanted to give you more than the five minute fuck his body was going to currently allow him.

When his body is finally pressed flush to you, your mouth drops open in a silent scream. He feels even better than you imagined— filling you up in all the right way like he's the fucking last piece in a jigsaw puzzle. He presses a kiss to your cheek with a pout, eyes wide and concerned. "'s it too much? Please tell me, baby, only wanna make you feel good."

"Feels so good, Jjun, so full, filling me so good..." You manage a cocky smile through the sheer pleasure running through your video. "Told you I could take it..."

Yeonjun huffs out a small breath of laugh, face in your neck, and sucks a purpling hickey onto your skin. "Not even moving yet, want me to?"

"Yes please, need you so bad, needed this for so long..." you mumble out, cheeks going hot.

His face flushes adorably, hips rutting against yours with a newfound desperation you hadn't expected. "Can feel how much you need me," he grins. His pace is faster now, quarter notes compared to the half notes from previous. "Can you feel how much I need you?"

You can. Can feel him trembling above you, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead, tears wetting his lashes at the pure feeling of your cunt clamped down around him.

Your staccato gasps of "oh— oh— oh—" are music to his ears, and Yeonjun makes it a silent mission to hear absolutely every noise you're capable of making.

The head of his cock finds the spongey spot inside you with ease, and the squeak that falls from your lips sends him reeling. The first few tears slip down your cheeks when he abuses that spot over and over, and when he notices, Yeonjun has to look away. Pretty best friend, fucked out on his cock, crying for him... He holds your hand with a gentleness so unexpected you whimper, and he smiles again, kissing up your neck.

"Jjun, need, more— oh fuck— need more, s' close, please, give me?"

The look on your face decides for him, so pure and innocent, and he's fucking into you at a pace so animalistic you're practically screaming, mouth perpetually hung open.

The high that throws itself over you is so intense that you hit it with a noise thats almost a yelp, shaking under Yeonjun. He holds you close, balls deep in you, fingertips on your clit spelling out over and over again something you realize to be his name.

It seems to last forever, as if you're frozen in time itself, alone with Yeonjun's sweet scent winding itself around you.

With a jolt, you're back, pressing a hand to your stomach, where you can feel a small bulge under your fingertips. "Oh shit."

"What?"

He freezes, and Yeonjun's tone is panicked, and he looks down at you with such pure worry, like he's afraid after your peak that you've suddenly realized you made a mistake.

"Feel," you hum, taking his hand in yours once more and pressing it to your stomach, palm down. "Can feel you."

Yeonjun's eyes go wide and he sucks in a breath so sharp you can hear it. He presses his hand even harder against you before quickly yanking it away. "Can't think about that too much, gon' cum too quickly..."

Too quickly? He's been fucking you for 10 minutes, and he's worried about cumming too soon?

"Can.. Can you make me cum again?" You whisper, cheeks hot again, embarrassment winding up every limb in your body. "Never felt like that before..."

Your best friend looks down at you with such endearment in his eyes that your current position is almost funny. "I'll make you feel even better, promise."

His hips meet yours with a new frequency, faster and harder than before, and once again, you're reduced to a mess of babbles and whines under him.

Your head grows fuzzy, only focusing on the repeated action of his dick inside your pussy. Which sounds simple, but it was genuinely perhaps the best thing you've ever felt.

His breathing heavy, Yeonjun is focused fully on your body and the pleasure his ministrations are causing. A small smirk toys with the corners of his lips as you look up at him, mewling, eyes glassy with tears.

"Yeah? Feel good, doll?"

You nod again, swallowing hard, and he sighs out a laugh. "Looking so pretty under me, glad I'm making you feel good, making your first so good, aren't I?"

His pants paint the skin of your neck and make you tingle deliciously, the idea that you're managing to make this beautiful boy feel just as good as he's making you feel.

You tighten desperately around him with every action, and when you do, looking up at him, you can see Yeonjun's losing himself just a little. His eyebrows are furrowed like he's holding back, lips pursed out in a pout more focused than annoyed, and you grip his wrist with a choked noise when his slightly calloused fingertips meet your clit once more.

"'m so sorry, baby, can't do 't anymore, pretty pussy's taking me so good... gon' take you with me, alright?"

You can only smile up at him through your pleasure-induced tears. "Go ahead, can take it, take you s' good.."

Yeonjun's otherwise perfect thrusts fade to imperfection as he nears his high, writing his name on your clit once more, over and over, like he's claiming you as his. His whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, like he's glowing from within. "Yeah? Gon' be a good girl 'nd take all of me?"

"Can do it, can take you, wan' it s' bad.." you're slurring your words at this point, grabbing onto him out of desperation to keep yourself grounded in reality.

His pelvis ruts into you so hard you gasp, second high somehow even better than the first, and you're left out of body until the feeling of his warm cum painting your insides brings you crashing back down.

Yeonjun's shaking above you, and you chase his lips to press a consoling kiss to them, carding a hand through his hair as he calms down.

Rolling off of you, he takes a moment to catch his breath, eyes locked on his cum dripping out of your abused cunt. His gaze flicks up to meet yours a second later, and he smiles to himself at the fucked out look on your face. Thank god he did you right.

He gets a phone call moments later, and sits to answer it with an apologetic look at you. "Yes?" His tone is devoid of feeling, but softens when he hears the voice on the other end. "Yes, it's all right, I'll be over later, 'kay?"

He hangs up after a moment and looks at you with a tentative look, waiting for something from you. When he doesn't get it, he says, "You can, um, use my shower, if you want?"

As you look at him, the weight of everything that just happened crashes down on you. Oh shit. You just fucked your best friend. You fucking lost your virginity to your best friend. You just let him cum inside you. You're fucked. Literally. And then he was on the call with someone else, some other girl, and this is probably the worst situation you've gotten yourself into

You sit abruptly, avoiding his eyes. "I have to go."

Yeonjun's expression is nothing short of confusion and hurt when you stumble, off balance, to pull on your underwear and shorts once more. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Not the fucking pet name. Not again.

You shake your head. "I have to go. This was a bad idea."

And without another word, you're walking out his door.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You avoid him as best you can, but it isn't easy when he's so desperate for some sort of answer from you. 10 missed calls and 17 texts later, you find yourself back in the same room as him, much to your chagrin.

It wasn't on purpose! Your friends had decided that your monthly hang out was happening a week earlier than usual this time, and inside Taehyun's living room, you sit as far from Yeonjun as you possibly can.

Dinner is already torture, but after?

You avoid eye contact with him, avoid talking to him, hell, you avoid looking at him at all. Sitting between Beomgyu and Kai, Yeonjun's on Beomgyu's left, perfectly out of your eye line.

You and Kai yapping about Animal Crossing, you can feel Yeonjun's eyes on you, and you try your hardest to act normal. It's hard enough to be able to smell him in the room, soft and subtle but so unbearably there.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, and you hold your head in your hands, hip leaned against the counter.

Maybe you're being overdramatic. It's not that big of a deal to lose your virginity to someone who you've known for 8 years. You're sure it's happened to someone before. It's normal! It's just sex, after all, you don't have real feelings for him, definitely not.

But he's just dyed his hair red, and the thoughts running through your head are not friendly ones at all.

You feel insane. You shouldn't be simping after someone who you've known for so long. It would ruin everything between the two of you, wouldn't it?

You move to turn on the faucet. Washing your hands for no other reason but hope to get rid of the feeling of Yeonjun on your skin, you dry them on one of the hanging towels and open the bathroom door.

Oh, fuck this.

Yeonjun stands right outside the door, leaning against the wall, and when it opens, he straightens up to look at you. "Yn.. can we talk? Please? I-I need you to tell me what I did."

Something in his eyes makes your heart break in two. He looks so confused, so unaware of exactly how you feel, and you run a hand over your hair. "Jjun. You've been my best friend. For eight years. And I let you take my fucking virginity. What do you think you did?"

"Did I not fuck you good?" His voice is small, tentative, and you sigh in frustration.

"No, you fucked me just fine."

"Then what's the problem?"

"That's the problem, Jjun. I let you fuck me because I've wanted this for years, and it was a mistake. I don't want to lose my best friend because I told you I couldn't get myself off."

He runs a hand through his newly-red hair and visibly collects his thoughts. After a moment, Yeonjun says, "Do you not like me?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

His cheeks are red, and there are tears beading in his water line, making his eyes sparkle. You purse your lips out in confusion, and he continues.

"Do you think I'd fuck you if I didn't have feelings for you? Do you really think I'm that much of a whore?" His voice is quiet, searching, and you're genuinely surprised. "Did you even think about the fact that I didn't tell you who I was into? Because it's you, dummy. I volunteered to take your virginity because I've been wanting to be the one who gets to do that since that day you kissed Taehyun. And I realized that I didn't want you to be with anyone other than me."

He rubs the nape of his neck with a small smile through the tears in his eyes. "It's selfish, probably. Isn't it? To want to be the only one for you?"

Your eyes are blown out wide, lips parted in surprise. "What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me before you fucked me? Or during? Hell, even after instead of making me feel fucking crazy for liking you?"

"You didn't say anything, did you?" Yeonjun smiles slightly.

You press your lips together. "You offered in the first place! I didn't have to say anything."

"Fine. I'll say it now. I like you. I want you. I've thought about you at 2am every night for the past 2 years. I fucked you because I want to date you."

His eyes have a softness to them, akin to the way he looked at you when you were under him, and you don't have the words to respond.

You're pressed up against him in seconds, arms around his waist, lips on his with such urgency that you feel him laugh against you. Yeonjun kisses you back with the same pure passion, hands finding their way to cup your cheeks, and suddenly it feels like all is right with the world.

The atmosphere in the room is soft, intimate almost, when you find yourself on Taehyun's guest bed with a giggle. "You're so pretty, fuck.." you exhale, laughing when he grips the plush of your thighs to pull you closer.

You're positioned on top of him, heart going fast, and you're half subconsciously running your hand up and under his shirt.

He lets out a pretty gasp of a moan when you pinch at his nipple. "Don't, can't fuck with them out there, never gon' hear the end of it..."

The tears from before are finally slipping down his cheeks, and you press a kiss to his cheek to stop them from rolling off his chin. "Won't fuck you, but let me get you off, please? Wan' show you how much you mean to me.."

A soft exhale slips past his lips when you settle behind him, legs looped around his. Your head rests on his shoulder— you can hear his heartbeat through the cotton of his oversized shirt when you run your hand over the front of his pants. You tug the waistband of the loose athletic shorts down slowly, watching his every reaction with a soft smile on your face, and oh, the way the corners of his lips turn up so prettily when you run a soft hand over the entirety of his length.

"Always loved you, did you know?" you mumble, finally tugging him out of his pants with a whine from him.

"Didn' know, wish I did, woulda— fuck, s-slow down— woulda fucked you soon-ner..."

"Shush pretty, don't want them to hear, you can't be quiet 'nough, can you?"

He shakes against you when you slide your fist up his dick again, faster with each repetition, head hanging to his chest as he accepts what you give him, rendered putty beneath your hands. Yeonjun's noises are choked, slipping past the restraints of his lips no matter how much he tries otherwise. His head rocks all the way back when you speed up, and the sight of his collarbones on display has you reeling, wanting to give him everything he deserves and more.

"Doing so good for me, pretty boy, aren't you? So pretty with your new hair, did you do it for me?" humming against his neck while you suck dark hickeys, just high enough above his neckline for them to be visible. He just nods, gripping your free hand in his, and you look down at his dick in your hand with a smile.

Tip peeking through your fingers every time the side of your hand meets his pelvis, you notice a small birthmark on his pubic line and make note of it with a grin. His soft whines meet your ear like a melody from angels. "M— 'm so close, don't stop, don't stop, n/n, please!"

Yeonjun's small cry as he reaches his peak wrenches through your body as if he's touching you, and you let go of his hand and hold up his shirt to keep him from making a mess of it. "There we go, so pretty, what a good boy, love you..." You jerk off his softening cock, milking him completely, and only when his overstimulated mewls reach your ears do you stop.

The boy in front of you is a mess, sweat making his neck shiny, cum painting his tummy in ropes of white, tears streaking his cheeks, lips swollen from the tug of his teeth. But he looks so pretty, eyes glazed, a pleasured smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you.

"Love you too, s' glad you love me back."

You're leaning your forehead to his, going in for a sweet kiss, when you hear, "Guys, where'd yn and Yeonjun go?" from the hallway.

All in a frenzy, you jump up, tripping over your feet on your way to grab something to wipe Yeonjun clean, and you get to him just in time for the door to open.

Soobin stands there with his eyebrows raised, looking at the two of you on the bed, Yeonjun's hot cheeks, and the rag in your hand. He slaps a hand over his mouth before turning on his heel. "Found them!"

"Fucking hell," you mutter, straightening your own clothes while Yeonjun stands on shaky legs, tugging you into his arms.

"Doesn't matter, they were all bound to find out, was too loud anyways..." he smiles, nuzzling your neck, then drags you out and to the others.

Soobin's actively whispering in the ear of Beomgyu when the two of you walk in, and Taehyun shoots an annoyed look your way.

"My guest bed? Really?"

Yeonjun shrugs, checks the time, and grabs your hand again. You're still not used to this sensation— his hand is warm and soft, fingertips slightly calloused, and it fits perfectly with yours, like he was made for you. The thought makes you dizzy.

"This was fun, guys, but we have somewhere to be..." Yeonjun's saying to the others when you tune back in to reality. You gape up at him, but he just smirks down at you.

"In each others pants, most likely," Beomgyu mutters under his breath, and you roll your eyes.

But Yeonjun only winks, pulling you behind him out of the house and into his car, mumbling something about how he'll get yours later, and before you know it, this time you're in his bed.

Yeah, you're not getting any sleep tonight.

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You

SUMMARY: Heavily based on/inspired by Enough for You by Olivia Rodrigo. After months of chasing storms and harboring unspoken feelings, the moment of truth finally arrives. When Tyler returns to the team with someone new by his side, it shatters the hope you secretly held onto. In the aftermath of his abandonment, you're left grappling with heartache, wondering why you were never enough for him. As Tyler tries to make amends for leaving, the conversation takes a painful turn when he confronts the feelings he never knew existed. But some apologies can't fix what’s been broken, and all you want is to go back to the way things were—before you let him into your heart.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unrequited love.

WORD COUNT: 6.3k (sorry, not sorry)

Note: This is angsty as hell! I've been going through some heavy stuff in my personal life that has me feeling extra angsty. This fic is filled with angst and heartbreak so just be aware. This is how I'm coping with what I'm dealing with in my own life. Hope you enjoy xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87

The bathroom mirror reflected a version of yourself you’d rarely put on display. Your hair was curled just the right way, and your makeup, while subtle, was meticulously done. You hadn’t planned on going all out like this initially, but after scrolling through pictures of girls Tyler had been seen with—girls with flawless hair and expertly done makeup—you couldn’t help but wonder if that was what it would take for him to notice you.

Tyler Owens. The name that had taken up too much space in your mind for the past several months. He was more than just the leader of The Wranglers team or your boss; he was the man you’d fallen for. Hard. And you didn’t just want him to see you as a friend anymore.

The rest of the team was downstairs already, probably gearing up for the day’s shoot. Normally, you’d be there early too, grabbing coffee with Boone or discussing ideas with Lily. Today, though, you needed these extra few minutes. Maybe, just maybe, today was the day Tyler would finally notice you.

You gave yourself a final look, smoothing down your shirt, and headed out of the room. By the time you reached the lobby, the team was already gathered, discussing plans for the day. 

Boone was the first to see you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Whoa! Look at you! You clean up nice,” he teased, though his tone was genuinely complimentary.

Lily turned at the sound of Boone’s voice and smiled. “You look amazing! What’s the occasion?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you shrugged it off. “No occasion. Just felt like switching things up.”

The compliments kept coming. Dexter, who was typically more reserved, gave you an approving nod. But the one person you hoped would notice? He hadn’t said a word.

Tyler stood off to the side, his focus on something entirely unrelated, fiddling with his storm-chasing gear on his truck. He didn’t even glance your way, and your heart sank a little.

Boone, always quick to read a room, smirked and nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey, man, what do you think? She’s looking good today, right?”

Tyler paused for a brief moment, barely looking up from his equipment. His expression didn’t change as he muttered, “I’m not really the compliment type, Boone.”

Your stomach dropped at his response. You had been hoping—no, counting—on some kind of reaction, but his indifference stung more than you’d expected. You tried to brush it off, hiding the hurt with a forced smile, but inside, the disappointment was palpable.

Lily shot you a sympathetic look, sensing the tension. 

Boone, never one to let an awkward moment slide, gave Tyler an exaggerated look of disbelief. “Not the compliment type? Man, give her something. She looks great.”

Tyler shrugged as if the whole thing didn’t matter. “She always looks fine,” he said simply and then turned his attention back to his gear.

Fine.

The word echoed in your head, and for the first time that morning, you felt foolish for trying so hard. You had put in all that extra effort to be noticed, to be something more in his eyes, but apparently, "fine" was all you were.

You forced yourself to join in the conversation with the others, but the sting of his words stayed with you. As the group began to move toward the parking lot to load up the vehicles, you fell into step beside Lily. She bumped her shoulder against yours lightly.

“He’s an idiot,” she whispered, offering a small, supportive smile.

You tried to laugh, though it came out hollow. “Yeah, well, I knew that already.”

But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The Wranglers’ convoy made its way out of town, the early morning sun casting a golden hue over the horizon. The team was running on fumes, both literally and figuratively, so when Boone pulled into a gas station, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. While the others went about refueling the vehicles and stretching their legs, you spotted a small coffee shop across the street.

A chance to bring back some caffeine, but more importantly, a chance to do something for Tyler.

Without thinking twice, you hurried across the road, the familiar smell of roasted beans hitting you as soon as you stepped inside the shop. The bell above the door chimed, and the barista greeted you with a smile. You rattled off two orders: one for yourself and one for Tyler—black coffee, extra shot of espresso. You didn’t even need to ask what he wanted; you’d known his usual for months, committing it to memory in a way that only someone who cared a little too much would.

Within minutes, you were heading back to the gas station, clutching both cups in your hands. A tiny flicker of hope sparked inside you—maybe this would be the moment Tyler noticed. Maybe the fact that you remembered his drink order without needing to ask would mean something to him.

You spotted him leaning against the truck, his arms crossed as he waited for the tank to fill. His focus was elsewhere, probably already thinking ahead to the day’s chase, completely oblivious to the fact that you were heading his way with a small gesture of care.

“Here,” you said, holding out the cup toward him.

Tyler looked down at the coffee, momentarily confused before taking it from your hand. He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he hadn’t expected it.

“Black coffee. Extra shot of espresso,” you said softly, your heart picking up speed as you recited his order, hoping the words would register with him. Hoping that he’d realize you didn’t need to ask because you already knew.

He paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to yours briefly before he gave a slight nod. “Thanks,” he muttered, bringing the cup to his lips and taking his first sip.

That was it. Just a nod. No smile, no acknowledgment of the fact that you’d remembered his exact order, nothing. The flicker of hope you’d felt moments earlier dimmed into something closer to disappointment.

You stood there, feeling a bit like a fool for expecting anything more. After all, this was Tyler Owens—the same Tyler who never gave out compliments, the same Tyler who always kept his emotions locked up tight. Why had you thought this would be any different?

You shifted on your feet, holding your own cup a little tighter. “I thought you might need a pick-me-up,” you added, trying to keep the conversation going, hoping for... something.

He nodded again, glancing back toward the others as Boone finished filling up the tank. “Appreciate it,” he said flatly, his focus already shifting away from you and back to the task at hand.

You forced a smile, though the sting of his indifference was hard to ignore. You weren’t expecting grand gestures, but maybe just a little more than a nod. With the wind knocked out of your sails, you turned and headed toward the other side of the truck, sipping your own coffee, the bitter taste mirroring the feeling settling in your chest.

Lily caught your eye from where she stood talking to Dexter, and she shot you a questioning look as if to say, How’d it go? You gave her a small shake of your head and shrugged, silently communicating that it hadn’t gone the way you’d hoped.

The team loaded back into the vehicles, ready to hit the road again, but as you climbed into your seat, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all. The weight of always trying, always hoping—only to come up short.

And the worst part? No matter how much it stung, you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop caring, couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, one day, Tyler Owens would notice you the way you’d been noticing him all along.

The Wranglers team hit the open road, the small town shrinking behind them as fields stretched out on either side of the highway. You sat in the front passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, a map spread across your lap, though you both knew you wouldn’t really need it. Tyler had been storm chasing for years, and he could practically navigate these roads in his sleep. Your job as navigator was mostly just for show, a formality, but you took it seriously nonetheless—just like being the DJ.

Tyler drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the console between you, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The rest of the convoy followed behind, the team moving as one unit, always in sync, always chasing the next storm.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through your Spotify library, stopping at the playlist you had saved specifically for moments like this. The one titled simply “Tyler.” A collection of his favorite songs, the ones you’d spent months curating, learning the words to, and playing on repeat just to feel a little closer to him.

You had watched him during countless drives, noting which songs made him tap his fingers against the steering wheel, which ones he hummed along to, and—on rare occasions—which ones he’d actually sing under his breath. The playlist was like a map of his soul, each song a clue to who he was beneath the surface.

You pressed play, the first song filtering through the truck’s speakers, a familiar beat that you knew he liked. Your heart raced a little as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he’d notice.

The music filled the space between you, the silence replaced by lyrics you knew by heart—not because they were your favorite songs, but because they were his.

Tyler’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look over, didn’t comment. He just drove, his eyes fixed on the road as if the music were simply background noise.

You shifted in your seat, trying to hide your disappointment. Maybe he hadn’t realized yet. It was still early in the playlist, after all. You tapped your fingers against your knee, silently mouthing the words to the song, hoping that at some point, he’d notice. That he’d realize you weren’t just playing random songs—you were playing his songs. The ones that made him smile or relax, the ones that you knew by heart because of him.

Another song began, this one more upbeat. You couldn’t help but glance at him again, waiting for some kind of reaction—a nod, a hum, anything to show that he recognized the playlist as his own.

But if he noticed, he didn’t let it show. His face remained unreadable, his focus unbroken as the miles ticked by beneath the tires. He was calm, in control, as always.

You felt the familiar pang of disappointment settling in your chest, but you pushed it down, telling yourself not to get your hopes up. Tyler wasn’t the type to express things outwardly. You knew that. You’d known it from the beginning, but still... a part of you had hoped that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

You swallowed the feeling, keeping your gaze out the window, watching the landscape blur past. The music continued, your playlist running through the songs you’d carefully chosen, each one holding a piece of him. You wanted to believe that, at some point, he’d hear it. That he’d realize how much you’d been paying attention all along.

But for now, the road stretched on, and Tyler remained as distant as ever, his silence louder than the music that filled the truck.`

A week later, after a long day of chasing storms, the team had found their way to a small bar on the outskirts of town. The neon lights flickered in the windows, casting a soft glow over the worn-out booths and the dartboard that had seen better days. You followed them inside, but your mind wasn’t on the drinks or the games of pool and darts that the others had already started.

You slipped into a booth in the corner, away from the noise, with your bag slung over your shoulder. From it, you pulled out a book—the book. It was a self-help book you’d noticed Tyler reading last week when he thought no one was watching. You had immediately ordered a copy, telling yourself that it was purely out of interest, but deep down, you knew why. You hoped that if Tyler saw you reading it, he’d think you were smart. Maybe even that you shared the same interests. Maybe he'd even come over and talk to you about it.

The cover felt smooth under your fingers as you opened it, pretending to lose yourself in the words, but really, your eyes kept darting toward the team as they laughed and played darts a few feet away. Tyler stood at the dartboard, one hand gripping a beer, the other lazily aiming for the bullseye. His concentration was unwavering, just as it had been all day on the road, but you couldn’t help but glance his way every few minutes, hoping—wishing—he’d look over and see you.

You settled back against the worn leather of the booth, opening the book to where you’d bookmarked a random page. The words blurred slightly, not because you weren’t capable of understanding them, but because your mind wasn’t truly on the text. Instead, it wandered to the what-ifs, the scenarios where Tyler would walk over, slide into the booth across from you, and ask what you thought of the book. Maybe he’d smile, that rare but breathtaking smile you’d seen a hundred times, and the two of you would actually talk. Not just the usual team banter or logistics about the next chase, but really talk.

But as the minutes passed, the background noise of laughter and clinking glasses felt like a reminder of just how far away that possibility was. Tyler was still over by the dartboard, chatting with Boone as they took turns tossing darts. He hadn’t even glanced in your direction since they’d arrived at the bar.

You tried to focus on the book again, reading the same line twice before finally giving in and glancing at him once more. Nothing. No flicker of recognition that you were there, no acknowledgment of the effort you had put into reading his book, hoping it would make you stand out.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned your elbow on the table, resting your chin in your hand. Maybe you were trying too hard. Maybe all the little things—the playlist, the coffee, the book—were just things he’d never notice. Or maybe, and this thought stung the most, maybe you were invisible to him in that way. A friend. A coworker. But nothing more.

You looked down at the book again, reading a few more lines as if they could somehow distract you from the tight knot forming in your chest.

A few minutes later, Boone called out to you, holding up a pool cue as if inviting you to join their game. You shook your head, waving them off with a small smile, holding up the book as an excuse. Boone shrugged and turned back to Tyler, who was lining up his next throw.

For a split second, Tyler’s eyes flicked toward you. Your heart jumped, but before you could even process it, he threw the dart and turned back to the game as if the moment had never happened.

The diner was warm, the kind of warmth that came from too many bodies crammed into small booths and the lingering scent of coffee and fried food in the air. You sat across from Boone, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone cold, staring blankly at the chipped rim. The conversation around you was a low hum, drowned out by the thoughts racing through your head.

Tyler had left without a word this morning. Just gone. No explanation, no heads-up. Just a quick exchange with Dexter about her—Kate. The girl from Storm Par. The girl who’d seemed to have swept Tyler off his feet in the last two days. You hated to admit it, but the jealousy gnawed at you, each thought of them together, of him abandoning the team, felt like another crack in your resolve.

Boone nudged your arm, drawing you back to the present. “You alright?” His voice was low, concerned, but you just nodded, forcing a smile.

“I’m fine,” you lied.

Across from you, Ben, the British journalist tagging along with the team, was flipping through his notebook, occasionally scribbling something down. You could tell he was enjoying the chaos of American storm chasing, but his eyes kept flicking toward the empty seat next to you, the one Tyler should have been occupying. Everyone had noticed his absence, but no one had said much. Not directly, anyway.

Lily leaned over, her elbow brushing against Dani as they huddled together over their phones. “He’ll call,” Lily said with forced optimism, glancing at you. “Tyler sometimes does this—goes off on his own for a bit. He’ll be back.”

Dexter and Dani nodded in agreement, but Boone wasn’t so convinced. You weren’t either. Tyler wasn’t just gone. He was with her, and it stung more than you cared to admit.

Night came, and still no word from Tyler. You’d tried calling him once, your stomach twisted in knots, but there was no answer. No response. You wanted to believe Lily and the others, that he would come back, but every passing hour chipped away at that hope.

The next morning, the skies had shifted. Clouds churned ominously in the distance, the kind of promising sight that normally would have Tyler barking orders and loading up the gear. But today, there was just a quiet, palpable tension as the team stood in the parking lot of the motel, debating whether to head out without him.

“I don’t know,” Boone muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the horizon. “Feels wrong going out without Tyler.”

You felt the same. It felt like a piece of the team was missing, the driving force behind it all, but the skies were waiting. And so was Ben. You glanced at the journalist, who had been watching you closely, eager for the action he’d come all the way from England to document. You couldn’t let his time go to waste.

“We have to go,” you said, your voice steady, even though your insides were anything but. “We’ve got the van and the RV. We can still get some good footage, even without Tyler’s truck.”

The team exchanged glances, unsure. But you stepped forward, taking the lead. “Lily’s drone can get us the close-up shots we need, and we’ve still got the cameras. We can’t afford to wait. We’ve got to keep the channel going, and we need content.”

Dexter raised an eyebrow, impressed by your sudden shift into leadership, but Boone still looked hesitant. “What about Tyler?” he asked, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

You forced a calm you didn’t really feel. “Tyler will catch up with us when he’s ready. Right now, we can’t just sit around. The storm’s not going to wait for us.”

Boone finally nodded, and with that, the decision was made. You piled into the van with Lily and the rest of the crew, leaving behind the uncertainty of where Tyler was, or when he’d come back. Ben hopped in last, his camera at the ready, his excitement barely contained as you pulled out onto the open road.

As you sat in the passenger seat, guiding them toward the brewing storm, a familiar weight settled in your chest. You were used to being the one behind the scenes, managing social media, making sure the team’s content reached the masses. But now, as the makeshift team lead in Tyler’s absence, you couldn’t help but wonder—if he ever did come back, would things ever be the same between you two?

Your fingers hovered over your phone, tempted to try calling him again. But instead, you locked the screen and turned your focus to the skies ahead. You had a team to lead now. Tyler’s absence hurt, but it wasn’t going to stop you.

The morning air hung heavy, thick with the kind of heat that settled into your bones. You were leaning against the side of the van, arms crossed over your chest, trying not to let the frustration bubbling under your skin show. Boone stood beside you, his phone buzzing on the dashboard where he’d tossed it. You both glanced at the screen as Tyler’s name flashed across it.

Boone let it ring, his jaw clenched tight. After a few seconds, it went to voicemail. Neither of you said a word, but the tension between you spoke volumes. Tyler was trying to reach out, but neither of you were ready to hear him out just yet.

Moments later, Lily’s phone chimed. She didn’t hesitate, picking it up and putting it on speaker before Tyler had a chance to duck out. "Hey, Tyler," she greeted, her voice neutral.

"You ready for the next chase?" she asked, her tone deceptively light, but you could hear the undercurrent of curiosity.

But before she could say anything more, Tyler cut her off. “No, we’re gonna need you guys for something.”

Lily raised an eyebrow, and Boone shot you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing in confusion. You mirrored his look. We’ll? What did Tyler mean by that?

Lily pressed, “Do we need to drive all the way to Sapulpa?”

Tyler’s voice was quick to respond. “No, no. We’ll come to you.”

That we echoed in your mind, sinking deeper with each moment of silence that followed. You exchanged another look with Boone, but neither of you said anything. There was an uneasy feeling settling in, but none of you knew exactly what to make of it.

Minutes later, a text from Tyler buzzed through to your phone. You looked down to see the name and address of a trailer company. “What is this?” you muttered, sharing the text with Boone and the others.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Dexter said, climbing into the van with a shrug.

When you arrived at the lot, confusion still lingered in the air as the team climbed out of the van. The parking lot was full of trailers, rows upon rows of them in every size and shape imaginable, glinting under the afternoon sun. The purpose of being here was still unclear.

Then you spotted Tyler’s truck pulling in. The familiar hum of the engine sent your heart rate spiking, but it wasn’t just him that got out.

Kate. She emerged from the passenger side, her face lit up with that same easy smile she’d been wearing ever since the two of them had met.

You felt the knot tighten in your stomach, the same one that had been there since she’d entered the picture two days ago. Dani was the first to break the silence. “You finally made it,” she called, a hint of relief in her voice.

Tyler gave her a smile as he stepped up to the group. “Ben, you stuck around,” he greeted the journalist, shaking his hand as Ben nodded.

“Turns out there’s more to this story than I thought,” Ben said, eyeing Tyler with curiosity.

Tyler grinned. “We got a new ending for you.”

Meanwhile, Dexter raised his hand in a mock salute toward Kate. “Look who it is. City girl.” He shot her a grin that was almost welcoming. Almost.

Lily wasn’t far behind. “What’s up, Kate?” she asked, sounding a little too casual as she strolled over to them.

Kate smiled, sliding easily into conversation with Dexter and Lily like she had been part of the crew all along. You watched as they started chatting about storm footage, Lily showing her clips on her phone from the chase the team had gone on without Tyler and Kate. It wasn’t just that they were talking, though. It was the way Kate’s eyes lit up at the footage, the way she leaned in closer, asking about Lily’s drone.

"Can you rig that drone to collect data?" Kate asked, her interest piqued.

Lily nodded, explaining how Cairo, her drone, worked and all the modifications she’d made. Watching Kate take such an interest in the team felt like watching her slip further into Tyler’s world. A world that, for so long, had felt like yours.

Tyler, meanwhile, was making his way over to Boone, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy," he began, his voice sincere. "I’m sorry."

Boone didn’t look at him, his jaw set. "Man, you abandoned me," Boone muttered, his voice tight with hurt. "I don’t know nothin’ about no makeup-"

Tyler cut him off with a smirk. “How about we launch some new rockets?”

Boone’s expression shifted, the tension breaking as he perked up. "You said rockets?" His tone was a mix of surprise and cautious excitement.

Tyler nodded, a grin forming. “I did.”

For a moment, it felt like the old Tyler and Boone—the way they always found common ground no matter what. But that still left you.

Tyler turned toward you, taking a few steps in your direction, his face softening. "I’m sorry," he began, but before he could get out anything more, Dani and the salesman walked up.

The apology hung in the air, unfinished, as you stood there, watching him. He hadn’t called you, hadn’t reached out directly. And now, standing in front of you with Kate by his side, the apology felt... hollow.

The van's engine hummed steadily as you followed behind Tyler’s truck, the road stretching endlessly ahead. You hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the trailer lot. The silence between you and Lily was thick, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. Outside, the sky was bruised with the remnants of a setting sun, casting long shadows over the landscape. But inside the van, it felt like the world had dimmed.

Your eyes were locked on the truck ahead, on the faint silhouette of Tyler’s head just visible through the back window. You knew Kate was sitting there, right beside him, and the thought twisted in your chest like a knife. You blinked, trying to hold it together, but the tears came anyway, silent and hot as they slid down your cheeks.

Lily glanced over at you, her brows knitting together in concern. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, giving you space. But you could feel her eyes on you, the way she hesitated before speaking.

“Hey…” her voice was soft, cautious. “You okay?”

It was a ridiculous question, really, but it was all she could say. You shook your head slightly, trying to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of your jacket, but they kept coming, harder now.

Lily sighed, her hand reaching across the seat to give your arm a gentle squeeze. She didn’t need to say it—you both knew. She had been the only one who knew. The only one you had confided in about how you felt about Tyler. She had believed, just like you, that maybe he’d wake up and see what was right in front of him.

But now... now it was clear. He had found someone else. Someone more exciting, more interesting. Someone like Kate.

The tears fell faster, and you pressed your fist to your mouth, trying to keep the sobs at bay. But your mind wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t let you escape from the reality of it. Tyler hadn’t just left you behind. He had abandoned you without a second thought, without even realizing how much it hurt. One second he was there, and the next he was gone. Gone like you meant nothing.

And you were left wondering what you’d done wrong. Why you were never enough.

Lily’s voice broke through the whirlwind of thoughts. “You know… none of this is your fault, right?”

You let out a shaky breath, but didn’t respond. How could it not be? You must have done something—been something—wrong for him to walk away like that, like you didn’t even matter.

“He’s a fool, you know,” Lily continued, her voice firmer now. “I really thought he’d pull his head out of his ass eventually. Realize what’s right in front of him.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “He never even saw me.”

Lily didn’t argue, and you were grateful for that. Because it was true. Tyler hadn’t seen you—not the way you wanted him to. You had spent so long hoping, waiting for him to notice, to realize that you loved him more than anyone ever could. But he didn’t. He found someone else instead, someone new and shiny like Kate.

Your thoughts spiraled further, the pain gnawing at you from the inside. You could barely breathe through it. God, Tyler couldn’t have cared less about someone who had loved him more. Loved him with everything you had.

“I’d say he broke my heart,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “but I think he broke a lot more than that.”

Lily’s hand was back on your arm, squeezing tighter this time. “You deserved better. You still do.”

You nodded, though it didn’t feel like that right now. All you’d ever wanted was to be enough for him. Just enough to be seen, to be cared for the way you cared for him. But that had been too much to ask.

The miles passed by, the road stretching endlessly ahead, just like this ache inside you. You watched the truck in front of you, the taillights glowing faintly as Tyler drove on, oblivious. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you at all—or if he was too caught up in Kate’s orbit now to even notice the wreckage he’d left behind.

You turned to look at Lily, her eyes full of empathy. “I don’t think I ever stood a chance, did I?” you asked quietly.

Lily’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head softly. “No. I don’t think it was ever about you. He’s just… lost. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

You nodded, feeling that hollow truth settle in your bones. You weren’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he didn’t see you or the realization that you might have been waiting for someone who was never really yours to begin with.

The air was still, thick with the calm before the storm. The team had scattered, gathering near the RV to eat lunch and regroup before they moved on. Laughter echoed from where Dani, Dexter, and Lily sat in lawn chairs, enjoying the brief pause in the chase. Ben, Boone, and Tyler stood near Tyler's truck, their conversation drowned out by the low hum of the wind sweeping across the open field.

But you weren’t with them. You hadn’t been all day.

You sat alone in the van, the door open, your legs pulled up to your chest as you rested your forehead on your knees. Your eyes were closed, trying to block out the ache that had settled deep inside your chest. The tears had dried, but your face still felt tight from the tracks they left behind. You just wanted to disappear, to not feel the way you did.

Tyler’s laughter drifted over from where he stood with the others, and the sound made your heart twist painfully. He had no idea, no clue what was going on inside you.

Until Lily caught his eye.

She saw him glance toward the van, saw him hesitate, his body half-turned as if he wanted to approach but wasn’t sure if he should. She knew it was only a matter of time before he’d find out—before your carefully hidden feelings were laid bare. The thought of you sitting there, hurting like this, was eating her alive.

With a deep breath, Lily made the decision. She walked over to where Tyler stood, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Tyler, can we talk for a second?”

He glanced down at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

Lily glanced toward you in the van, then back at Tyler. Her voice dropped to a more serious tone. “It’s about her. I think... I think you need to know something.”

Tyler’s expression changed instantly. His eyes followed hers to where you sat, and he felt the weight of her words before she even said them. “What is it?”

Lily sighed. “She’s not just upset about the team. About you leaving. It’s more than that.” She hesitated, then spoke more quietly. “She’s been hurt by you bringing Kate on board. Especially without saying anything.”

Tyler frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “Hurt? Why would—”

“She cares about you, Tyler,” Lily interrupted. “More than you realize.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood there, frozen for a moment, processing what Lily had just told him. “Wait… you mean…?”

Lily nodded. “She’s had feelings for you for a long time. And when you left, it broke her. Then when you came back… with Kate...” Lily trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. The silence said enough.

Tyler felt the weight of it all settling on his shoulders. Guilt gnawed at him, the realization sinking in. He looked back toward you, sitting alone in the van, your back to him.

“Damn…” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” Lily replied softly. “But now you do.”

Tyler gave her a nod, his jaw clenched as he turned and started walking toward the van. His footsteps were slow, hesitant. The closer he got, the clearer it became—he hadn’t just hurt you by abandoning the team. He’d hurt you far worse without even realizing it.

He stopped halfway to the van, watching you. He could see it now—the tension in your shoulders, the way your head was bowed like you were trying to hold everything inside. It gutted him. But he wasn’t sure if approaching was the right thing to do.

After a moment, he made the choice. He walked the rest of the way to the van, coming to a stop just beside the open door. You didn’t look up at first, didn’t acknowledge his presence. But you knew he was there.

He sat down beside you, careful not to sit too close. The silence between you was thick, heavy with everything unspoken.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler started, his voice low. “For leaving. For abandoning you guys. It wasn’t fair to put all that on you.”

You still didn’t look at him, but he saw the way your hands tightened around your knees.

“I saw the footage,” he continued, trying to offer something, anything that might make it better. “You did great. You really stepped up. Led the team better than I could have.”

You said nothing, just kept your gaze down, the ache in your chest only growing with each word. None of this was what you needed to hear.

Tyler let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look… I talked to Lily. She told me…”

At that, you finally lifted your head, your heart lurching at the sound of those words. She told him. You felt the sting of betrayal—Lily had said too much.

“Tyler, don’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

But he didn’t stop. He needed to say it, needed to acknowledge it. “I didn’t know, okay? I didn’t know you felt that way. And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

You closed your eyes, your breath shaky as you tried to keep it together. “Please… just don’t.”

But he pressed on, his voice softer now. “I do care about you. I really do. But not in the way you want me to.”

Those words felt like a slap, and you swallowed hard, fighting the tears that threatened to fall again.

“I don’t need your apology,” you finally said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong. “I don’t need your pity either.”

Tyler’s brows furrowed. “It’s not pity. I just… I want to make things right.”

You shook your head, letting out a bitter laugh that was more of a sob. “You can’t fix this, Tyler. You can’t just… say you’re sorry and make it all go away.”

He watched you, pain flickering in his eyes. He hated that he had done this to you, hated that his actions had caused you this kind of hurt.

“I never asked for much,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to be enough. Enough for you to notice me. To see me.”

Tyler looked away, guilt settling in his gut like a lead weight. “I’m sorry.”

The words fell flat. Meaningless.

You turned away from him, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that felt so shattered. “It was just a stupid crush anyway,” you muttered, forcing a small, hollow laugh. “I’ll get over it.”

But both of you knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t just a crush. It had been so much more than that. And now… now it felt like you had lost something you couldn’t get back.

Tyler sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “If there’s anything I can do—”

“There’s nothing you can do,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe there was a chance.”

He stayed silent, not knowing what else to say. He had broken something inside you, and no amount of apologies would fix it.

You wiped your eyes, standing up from the van. “I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, though it was more for yourself than for him.

And with that, you walked away, leaving Tyler sitting there, watching you go, knowing he had lost something he didn’t even realize he had.

[alchemistc]

Tommy doesn't quite startle, when Evan reaches out for his hand, halfway down the block on their way to the little park tucked in behind a row of boutiques, but it takes him a moment to accept the touch, Evan's pinky sliding over the back of Tommy's hand as their shoulders bump together, the both of them a little too giddy to blame the coffee alone.

Evan makes an aborted movement like he's second guessing the attempt, and Tommy twitches his hand back just enough to snag his fingers.

At his side, Evan ducks his head, cheeks pinking, lips rubbing together, smile going wide and bright.

He feels overheated in his hoodie, but now their fingers are interlocking, and Evan is shifting his weight to adjust the angle of their arms, and Tommy can just deal with the warmth, actually.

His sister's wedding. They're both insane, Tommy decides, right then and there, and if this continues - if this continues, Tommy's just going to take his cues from Evan.

(I am all in, Tommy thinks, in Scott Patterson's voice, and then drops that thought like a hot fucking potato. He tables it, at least. For later.)

"I - uh - I told Eddie, about - well I told him." Evan grimaces, but he holds up their intertwined hands for a moment, a clear gesture about what, exactly, he'd told Eddie. Tommy wonders exactly how much he'd said. He wants to climb in behind his eyeballs and pick at his brain, which is so beyond the pale of weird and intense. Evan still thinks he's cool, somehow. That won't last. "I hope that was okay? I know you said you're out, but I guess he didn't know, so -."

Tommy squeezes the hand tucked into his. "That's fine, really. He'd have figured it out on his own, eventually. It's not like I hide it."

(Anymore.)

It's - that's a huge fucking leap from "I'm an ally" actually, less than a week out from shifting his eyes around the room and spouting nervous nonsense about picking up chicks. His sister, his best friend - Christ, he's really going for the speed run on accepting his sexuality.

The wedding, Tommy had discovered, down to the dregs of a truly middling cup of coffee he kept sipping at to try to hide his own nerves, was another three weeks away, but a month of lead time between his first kiss with a man and introducing that man to all of his family and friends as a date - yeah. Tommy wouldn't trust it for a minute if he hadn't spent weeks picking Christopher's brain for hints as to exactly what was up with Evan Buckley, if he hadn't already heard from Eddie exactly how quickly they'd jumped into their friendship.

Tommy's whirlwind thoughts stutter to a halt. "Wait. Did you know?"

Evan blushes, again, ripening the apples of his cheeks. "It's - okay so I didn't know, know, obviously, but - I mean - you were flirting pretty hard."

Tommy laughs. "Evan."

"You were!" He sounds a little incensed, like he's actually offended Tommy thinks he can't clock a flirt, and Tommy can't quite resist the urge to squeeze at his hand, again. "You aren't exactly the first guy who's ever flirted with me, Mr. Kinard." He says it prim and proper, chin raised, lips pursing after the pause, and Tommy is - shit, he's smitten. He also has no fucking clue how Evan never pieced together how hard he was flirting back. God, even Mr. Kinard has his stomach fluttering, a little.

"Just the first one who's ever reached out and slapped you in the face with it."

Evan's grin goes blindingly bright, eyes still a little squinted under the sunlight making the shots of red in his hair a little more obvious. "It was a very gentle slap. You could - you could slap a little harder, next time."

Jesus.

He's not even a hundred percent sure what the implication is there, but he can at least roll with the tamer one. He tugs, a bit, on their intertwined hands, just hard enough to knock their shoulders together again. He's a solid weight against Tommy's side, the bulk of him a little mind numbingly hot, in his bright white shirt and the dark wash jeans Tommy'd taken his time checking out when Evan went to toss their coffee cups. "You still owe me a beer, Buckley," he tells him, and Evan tilts his head up to check the angle of the sun, doesn't even bother to point out that Tommy'd barely let the check sit on the table long enough for Evan to pull out his wallet.

"I mean, it's a little early."

"Raincheck, again?"

Neither one of them has anywhere to be for the rest of the day. They'd both made that clear, when the coffee started to get low but the conversation didn't wind down, and Tommy - Christ, Tommy is more than willing to let himself get swept up in this, for the next few hours, for the day maybe, even. The weather is comfortable, and the company is adorable, and in response to Tommy releasing him from the pressure of being out too soon he'd sped off to his sister and his best friend for - for answers, most likely, for advice on how to turn things around. My sister says... he'd started, before Tommy'd had enough of wondering.

"Let's see where the day takes us," Evan says, another squeeze to Tommy's hand, and Tommy takes the weight when Evan checks his shoulder back.

-----

The day takes them twelve blocks up the road, Tommy pressed to his own kitchen counter, lips swollen and flushed when he finally parts for breath, Evan Buckley's dick pressed against his thigh as he whines at the loss. Tommy's hands are bunched up under the fabric of Evan's shirt, the wide expanse of skin beneath them sun-warm and smooth, and when Evan blinks back at him and digs his nose into Tommy's cheek, Tommy has the wild thought that he could do this forever - just this, rocking together in the shifting late afternoon light coming in from the gauzy white curtains over his kitchen sink.

They'd made the journey here under the pretense of grabbing a few waters, maybe making some late lunch, figuring it out from there, but when Tommy had bent over the low shelf in his fridge Evan had cut the distance between them, caged Tommy in and made good on his threat to show Tommy he could slap back, if he wanted.

They've been lazily making out for - long enough that the water bottles he'd scrambled to set aside are now sweating condensation. He'd lost his concept of time somewhere around the point Evan had grabbed for the back of his thigh and rocked against it for the first time.

"We should figure out something for dinner," Tommy announces, lips still close enough to Evan's still parted ones that he's speaking mostly into his mouth.

"Uh-huh."

"Evan," he intones, just a hint of admonishment, and Evan blinks, and gathers himself. He's - he's still got his thigh wedged between Tommy's, can clearly feel exactly how much they'd both gotten themselves worked up. Tommy's a little obsessed with exactly how unperturbed by this Evan is. Thirty some years without realizing he was attracted to men and now he's spent a good few minutes actually nipping at the cleft of Tommy's chin, purposely shifting his face against Tommy's stubble-roughened cheeks while he sucked at Tommy's earlobe.

"Somewhere with beer," Evan provides, decisive, and Tommy can feel exactly how wide his smile goes.

"I'm actually in the mood for wine, tonight," Tommy shoots back, and the moment shifts, mood slowing as Evan pulls back - just a little, just enough for each of them to take stock of exactly how disheveled they both are.

Evan's mouth is pink pink pink, his own stubble not quite enough to hide the beard-burn that had spread down his neck when Tommy found himself momentarily fascinated by the dip of his collarbone, the rush of his pulse when Tommy mouthed at the tendon of his neck. Besides the awkward bunching at the back, his shirt is all out of whack, one side of his collar flipped up, the neck shifted to one side, and Tommy vaguely remembers sliding his hand in there, at one point, swallowing the heavy groan that had elicited. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes bright and still a little wild. Tommy can't be any better.

"There - there is actually a little wine bar around here I've been meaning to try," Evan says, clearly trying to refocus, shifting his weight around in a familiar way that Tommy finds achingly endearing.

Tommy thumbs at Evan's bottom lip just to watch the way he has to fight not to be drawn back in.

"Let me change," Tommy says, hands shifting to Evan's hips to press him back, and away.

"You - you're fine. Like this."

Tommy's smile is soft, and he reaches out to smooth down Evan's collar. Evan's eyes seem to be stuck on the flash of skin behind the open button of his Henley, the knowledge of which he is absolutely going to use to his advantage.

"This isn't exactly date attire," Tommy impresses upon him, and Evan's brow goes adorably crinkly.

"Tommy, we've been on a date the entire day."

Tommy's mouth does something uncontrollable, the smile breaking containment on one side, then the other, and the hand still tucked next to Evan's collar shifts across his chest. Beneath his ribcage, Tommy's heart does something he absolutely refuses to acknowledge until he's had a moment alone to his thoughts.

"I didn't wear this to impress you," he admits, although he gets the feeling Evan absolutely had dressed to impress. "Sorta thought I was getting a very polite let down, this morning."

"So, this is, what, your sulking attire?"

"Certain I was gonna sulk, hmm?"

"I mean, I'd have been a little insulted if you didn't at least mope, a bit. Maybe a little wallowing."

"You caught me. This is my brooding sweatshirt."

It's absolutely stupid, how much it makes his heart race to see the grin blooming across his face. Tommy needs a moment.

He brushes at Evan's shoulder as he passes him, fighting the urge to press his lips to his cheek.

"I'll be right back. Bathroom's down the hall on the left, if you need it."

In his room, with the door shut behind him, Tommy takes a long, long moment to stare at his bed, silently trying to convince himself not to throw his whole body dramatically across it like some regency era heroine. The bathroom is right next to his room, and Tommy can hear Evan drifting down the hall towards it, at a pace that suggests he's taking the time to take in the artwork and picture frames hung on the walls. It makes something ache, in his chest, in his throat, and Tommy shakes his head on the way to his closet, getting tangled in his sweatshirt when he tries to tug both it and the Henley up over his head at the same time.

He's forgotten how clothes work. Maybe. Probably.

In his walk in, once he's figured out how to get everything off without blinding himself or taking out a light, he takes a moment to stare at himself in the mirror hung by the door. His hair is a fucking disaster. His face is - embarrassingly smiley, Jesus Christ.

There's a mouth shaped bruise forming at the bolt of his jaw, and Tommy should absolutely be embarrassed about that - he's a forty year old man who just spent a good hour necking in his kitchen.

Fingers trace the edges of it and he can't muster up anything less mortifying than smugness.

He manages to get his hair in some semblance of order - doesn't bother with product, for absolutely no reason at all (certainly not to tempt Evan into running his fingers through it some more) - and finds a collared shirt in a light, hazy blue that he knows brings out the slashes of green in his eyes.

He leaves the top three buttons undone and calls it good.

Evan's back in the kitchen by the time he makes it out of his room, snooping in Tommy's fridge, and he doesn't even have the grace to look apologetic about it when Tommy taps his fingers against the doorframe.

The fridge closes on its own, Evan's mouth dropped to an intriguing O shape.

"Uh - oh," Evan says, mouth actually snapping shut as he takes Tommy in, eyes dipping up, down, catching on the skin below his collarbone. He swallows. Fuck. "This - uh. Okay. Color me impressed."

"Yeah?"

"You know you look good," Evan whines.

He's done something to fix his own, hair, too. Tommy leans in the doorway, arms crossed, one foot tucked over the other, and actually takes the time to stare back. Tommy's hands had worn through the product - there's a little bit of a curl, in his hair, that Tommy would give a lot of his earthly possessions to see in its natural state. There's still some color in his cheeks, and it's spreading as Tommy checks him out. He's fixed the neck of his shirt, and against the stark white of it, his tattoos are drawing Tommy's eye. He wonders how many other ones he might uncover, one day. "You too," Tommy finally says, when Evan looks like he might vibrate right out of his skin at the attention. Evan beams, and spins the keys in his hand around on one finger.

"You ready?"

Absolutely fucking not, Tommy thinks to himself, but he nods, and lets Evan lead the way back out his front door.