#let’s answer a text. let’s write a little. let’s do fucking anything challenge.

[ghostzzy]

slept like shit last night, spent the entire morning sick to my stomach and fighting my own ribcage, spent the entire afternoon helping my mom move furniture, spent the entire evening with a migraine

[joelscruff]

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

--

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

--

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[mustainegf]

I’ve been craving dilf Kirk!! Can you write a smut where reader has been a bit of a brat and he puts her in her place 🥹

Kirk pls me next pls Kirk pls

𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 ²⁰¹¹

My attitude towards Kirk lately had become very… bratty. I'd pout around whenever he had gigs scheduled and couldn't spend the whole day with me. I'd text incessantly for updates on what he was doing and demand that he answer right away. I'd been far from perfect, and deep down, I knew it.

One evening, after yet another screaming battle about his touring schedule, Kirk called me into his bedroom. The moment I came through the doorway, his glowing brown eyes snapped onto mine.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the edge of the bed. His tone brooked no argument, and I didn't even think to disobey. As soon as I settled, he moved and grasped my wrists, pinning them above my head against the mattress.

"You've been acting like a spoiled little brat lately," he growled. "I think it's time someone taught you some discipline."

I knew Kirk well enough to understand that when he got stern, it often preceded something intense, and not just emotionally. He leaned in close, his lips grazing my cheek as he whispered:

"I'ma fuck you so good tonight, baby. I'll show you exactly how a good girl should behave."

Though a rebel to most people, his dominance was exactly what I needed from Kirk: for him to take control, to remind me who really was in charge.

With one smooth movement, he let go of one of my hands to jerk down my shorts and panties in one smooth motion. The cool air hit my exposed pussy, eliciting a loud gasp from me. Kirk didn't waste any time, sliding two fingers down and pressing inside of me with no type of warning at all, really opening me up for what was to come.

"Fuck, you're already dripping for me," he muttered, curling his fingers deeper. His touch was punishing.

I pushed my hips back into his fingers. His other hand slid up my spine to grab a handful of my hair and pull in a gentle but firm way. It was a sensation I loved, one that always left me whimpering.

"Kirk," I moaned, unable to retain anything. My own voice filled the room. I could feel my walls clenching around his probing digits, begging to cum even though we’d hardly begun.I

"Be a good girl for me…" His thumb found my clit, circling it in tight circles as his fingers continued their brutal assault on my gummy depths.

With a deep groan, Kirk suddenly pulled his fingers out of me, leaving me hollow. I didn't get a chance to protest as he pushed me back onto the bed again. His eyes burning, glued over my naked body.

"Now, let's see how sorry you can really get," he grumbled. Kirk shed his clothes really fast, bulge prominent in his jeans, and crawled all over me, caging me under his larger frame once he was fully nude.

"You have two choices here," Kirk growled, grinding his erection against my sensitive folds. "Either you beg me to fuck you senseless until you learn your lesson… or I'll tie you up and use you however I please."

I knew better than to challenge him further with his cock rubbing against my heat. Instead, I chose option A for the path of least resistance.

"Please, Kirk," I begged, reaching up to lace my fingers through his dark curls. "Fuck me… Show me how much you hate my attitude." There was no mistaking the desperation in my voice as my body started shaking.

An evil grin shot over Kirk's handsome features at my plea. In one move, he peeled off my shirt and bra, baring my breasts to his hungry eyes. He palmed them roughly, tweaking on my nipples until I cried.

"You want me to fuck you hard? Punish you for bein’ such a brat?" he asked, each question followed with a nip along my neckline. I could only nod frantically.

"Then say it," Kirk demanded. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you."

His cock beat against my thigh, its heat practically searing into my skin.

"I want you to f-fuck me, Kirk," I breathed. "I want you to fuck into me until I s-scream. Use me like the naughty girl I am." My hips bucked upwards involuntarily, needing to feel him inside me. "Remind me of what a bad brat I've b-been. Make me feel it."

"That's my girl," he praised, his voice low and rumbling. "So eager to be used properly." With that, he aligned himself with my entrance, the blunt head of his cock nudging my slick folds.

Kirk snarled, slapping my ass hard enough to leave a bright red print there.

“This is exactly what you deserve," he added, his merciless rhythm resuming. His cock pumped into me time and time again, filling me.

He stopped for a moment, letting his words hang heavy in the air, then slammed back in. "You love it. Don't you? Beg for it," Kirk ordered. "Beg me to ruin your pretty little cunt."

"P-Please, Kirk," I whimpered, opening my legs wider in invitation. "Please... Fuck me until I c-can't walk straight. I need it, I need you so badly."

With a growling grunt, Kirk rammed into me, filling me to the hilt in one smooth motion. I screamed, hooking my nails into his shoulders and clinging to him for my life.

"Yes!" I cried back, bending my spine to meet his strokes. "Harder, Kirk!"

He did so at a ruthless pace, pistoning in and out of me and his movements shook the bedframe.

"Fucking brat," he growled, accenting each word with especially cruel strokes. "Thought you could act up and get away with it, huh?"

I could only gasp and moan. The headboard smacked against the wall with each impact, the sound mingling with the obscene squelch of flesh meeting flesh.

"I'm close," I panted, and my inner muscles had already started fluttering around his shaft. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

The dual stimulation of his cock driving into me and his fingers torturing my clit was too much. I balanced on the edge of cumming, my whole body was squeezing.

"You're gonna cum for me," Kirk ordered. "You're gonna drench my cock with your sweet juices because you need to be taught a lesson."

With one last roar from Kirk, he bottomed out inside me a final time, his length stroking that spot way deep inside that made stars burst behind my clamped shut eyelids.

I shook and screamed, trying to grip onto him for support as inner walls clenched and spasmed around Kirk. My bones to jelly and my mind to mush.

"S-shit!" I managed to gasp out, and my entire world was reduced to that incredible feeling. "Kirk…fuck."

Kirk grunted, He pounded into me a few more times, milking every last drop of pleasure from both of us before finally pausing deep inside me. He fell on top of me with a shuddering breath, his weight pressing me into the mattress.

A moment later, he pulled out slowly, letting my sensitive flesh relax, before he slid entirely off the bed. I watched him, still dazed while he cleaned himself up and then turned to me with a smirk.

"Learn your lesson, brat?" he asked darkly.

Lying there, almost immobile, I could only offer a weak smile. "Yes… yes Kirk…," I whimpered. "I’ll be good..."

[akirathedramaqueen]

A little bit of mumbling about the Full Moon episode and Stolitz drama

ALERT: multiple Helluva Boss spoilers, so, please, be advised

Yea, it's another episode of "I can't get over relationship issues of a red lizard and a tall owl", so buckle up, and let me give my share of thoughts about how important was what we have seen in the "Full Moon" episode.

I appeciate if you read it, because it's quite big and I realise, that not much people like longreads, but I desperately wanted it out, and I wanted to try to engage with HB community, as I saw so many wonderful points, analysis, and observations out here.

So... let's go, I guess!

The Growth Concept

Once, my therapist told me, that sometimes, the only way to grow and do better is to face a challenge you cannot avoid anymore, albeit desperately would want to. We do not grow, when everything is convenient and stable, no matter whether "stable" means stability or stalling. We grow, when life pushes us to do so, when we have nowhere to run anymore. When there is... when there is just no other way.

The Full Moon meeting, albeit infinitely sad and hurting, was the challenge for them to become the better versions of themselves. Stolas caused the rumbling, something you cannot take back anymore, something which couldn't be returned to status quo. It was very brave of him to do so, to give the chance to be open and vulnerable for a change.

"It's... we're not... it's not a... It's a transactional fucking, you see" - S1EP5. As you may witness here, in S2EP8, exhibit A is clearly not happy with the transactional deal ending in his favor

But could it be better than that?

Even before the episode came out, I don't think anyone had expectations for the meeting to not turn out ugly. Trailer already hinted at that, and, besides, their earlier interactions gave nothing of "let's communicate" vibe.

Stolas was not clear about wanting to talk their issues out, the viewer was the only one who knew he longs for that. Yes, you may say that Stolas *suggested* to discuss what happened at Ozzie's, as we have seen at the end of the "Western Energy" episode, but immediately retreated after, I am sorry, a simple question "why?". It does not mean "no", yet, Stolas instantly gave up and fell into one-side poor explanation of what he thinks happened, not giving Blitzø space to engage.

People also like to mention Blitzø's one-liners of an answer, implying him not wanting to do anything with Stolas, but I want to point out how Stolas himself bolted out of every opportunity to meet. Blitzø never said "no" clearly, and still Stolas cut every opportunity out.

Notice also how Stolas's messages are much more complicated and over-explaining, while Blitzø's are extra short and on point. I think it also shows in how different environments they were raised in, with Stolas knowing royal etiquitte, where everything is a sub-text, intrigue, rules, and no one is quite clear on intentions, and Blitzø not giving second thought about what leaves his mouth, or, in the case of messages, textbox. It's not only in their ability to simply write grammatically accurate, it's in their style of communication, culture even, where the problems of Stolas is to play the politics, and Blitzø's problem is to simply stay on float for another day.

And Blitzø? Hell, my poor man is deaf, blind, mute, and emotionally illiterate. It took Fizz 40 seconds to crack the case open in the "Oops" episode, and Blitzø didn't even pick up on it, despite being said twice he is wrong about Stolas. He would never come to *that* conclusion himself, even if the whole show cast will scream "STOLAS LOVES YOU" in his face. How can you expect him to even try to comprehend hints in behaviour and messages? And don't be fooled by his "it's only transactional, you see" moments - when he never says he is into Stolas, the show gave us plenty material to doubt that statement. He averts his gaze, saying "it's only a deal", hence he lies. He blushes when seeing Stolas's human form, hence he likes him. He is offended and hurt by Ozzie's accident, hence he cares. He crawls himself on knees and is not bothered by chains, hence he wants to belong to Stolas. He doesn't voice his desires once, but you know they are there.

So, no, before that night, they had no chance of getting better, because they were too deep in their own trauma and world view. I want to make that clear, just in case if someone still wishes it went better.

And that leads us to the Full Moon, where all cards were out

There is plenty of analysis already all over the Internet on every frame of the show, how beautifully it's written, and how masterfully it was performed, when you can see so much in each tail flinch, each face expression, each movement, and each word. I won't go into that, I think I would be rather repeating things said so many times by so many observant fans.

What I want to add, though, is... The fail was unavoidable, but necessary. It was not preventable because of many things, also explained many times... But, shortly, just to carry on the point, you cannot undo years of trauma, self-hatred, and abandoment issues in one night. You cannot revert all of the mess they already created with the whole deal thing.

But you can face the issue. You can stand up to it. You can break the wrong and to try to rebuild to do it right.

And that's what Stolas did. He stood up not only to his fears, but also to Blitzø's, and his desperate attempts to retain status quo.

Stolas challenged both of them.

And a small note: another thing which went wrong is how much of a shock it came out to Blitzø. Stolas was ready to face the challenge, because he couldn't take it anymore, he planned that night for weeks. Blitzø was not ready for that at all, but Stolas pushed him to the point of no return, and Blitzø was forced to adapt to the new reality in seconds.

Their reactions make so much sense. While Stolas was ready, there is a difference between being ready to face it, and being capable of facing it gracefully, and Blitzø... well, he didn't even have a minute to internalize all what's going on, and Stolas being for once extremely clear in intentions didn't help, because trigger already kicked in.

But is it that bad, really?

No, I don't think so. In fact, that fight they had was even good for them.

As tragic as it was, they got something out of it. Now there is no space for doubts about them having feelings for each other. Sure, they might be adamant about other wrong assumptions, that their partner now hates them and they are trash of a hellbeing, or whatever else they heard instead of what's actually been said, but, again, there is no doubt it's fucking serious. They cannot pretend or hide anymore that this is "just a deal".

That exchange opened the space for them to grow. Despite me feeling like I was stabbed after watching the episode, I am... even glad it turned out this way, because now, when all the words are said, all crutches broken, old wounds are opened and actively bleeding, there is a chance for them to heal, and to learn how to walk, not allowing their trauma to shape who they seem to be and inhibit their real selves.

There is now hope for them. You can clearly see them being vulnerable in the last trailer, and being together, on one couch, at least... one can only hope that they will have the capacity of having just one more proper talk.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, I know I speak too much, and no, I am not okay, but I hope it was at least a bit entertaining for you :d Also, English is not my first language, soooo... cut me some slack with grammar and consistency, please, haha

Happy to carry on the great mission of overanalyzing every bit of information we have about them XD

[sansxfuckyou]

Compact Confessional

Summary: Mysterion is holding something from the rest of the Freedom Pals. They should respect his privacy, they really should- but they only take it as a challenge.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, privacy breach, betrayal of trust, swearing, feral behavior (in Kite), the authors attempt at humor, heavy guilt, interrogation, it gets worse but then it gets better guys, I promise

Authors Note: hurgh K2, with the additional flavor of kitesterion because I went batshit over the AU to an insane degree. I have no clue when the Ao3 port is dropping. Sorry if some of the colored text, isnt colored. And fair warning, this badboy levels around 10K words, tumblr starts to lag around 7.5K for anyone curious. it is almost 3 AM (do artists ever stay up insanely late to finish big projects and get so sleepy they forget the hotkey for the eraser tool? I wouldn't know, but somewhere along the line I kept trying to write segue way with a Q because I was fucking disoriented) I need to go to sleep right the fuck now

Mysterion is keeping something from the Freedom Pals, he's keeping something from all of them. Maybe if he was willing to talk about it with someone everyone wouldn't find it so intriguing. Maybe then everyone wouldn't want to know what it is that's so fucking important that no one is allowed to know about it.

Super Craig tries to act like it's nothing super big, aware that if everybody paid no mind to it that it might come out faster. Tupperware followed suite with the idea, Wonder Tweek tagging in as well. Other members of their franchise were a lot less… subtle, about their interest in Mysterions secret, whatever it is. The Coon is practically begging him every single day to tell him what it is, Call Girl even joins in. Toolshed is pretty sure the both of them are just making things worse it they want Mysterion to come clean.

Human Kite is the only one that refuses to meddle at all, even Doctor Timothy has tried getting a peek in Mysterions mind. The alien is the only one that sits there and listens to him bitch about how annoying they are. The only one that pauses to look and listen and take in every visual and audible cue because that's what he's known to do since he first landed way back when. It tells him a lot about his teammates if nothing else.

Still.

Mysterion- no, Kenny McCormick is hiding something from his friends. And given the fact that it's barely coming out even when he's in a state of delirium or terribly wounded, it must be something big.

It's starting to piss off Kyle a little bit.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit man," Kenny said as he pulled on his orange parka. He opted to leave his bleached cargo shorts and purple everything else in a pile on Kyles bedroom floor. It was easy to do that when the alien offered to wash them, "Chilling with Cartman all the time definitely does not do wonders for ones mental health."

Kyle gives a laugh, the kind that leaves teeth too sharp on full display. "Totally, I swear to fuck that asshole needs therapy," He stills his tail from wagging like he's a little kid, except, when he was a little kid he tied his tail up so it wouldn't be exposed in an all too human world. An extremely uncaring world for anything different then what they know as normalcy.

"He needs so much therapy," Kenny answered with, "See you tomorrow?"

"On our patrol, I'll make sure your suit is washed," Kyle said, throwing an arm to the side, an invitation for a hug. He wouldn't be sad if Kenny didn't take it, but he still can't help the way his heart skips several beats when he gets one. An anchoring tightness enveloping him, squeezing a comfortable amount on his rib cage that would hurt if he was human.

"Thanks Kyle," Kenny said quietly, head propped near Kyles shoulder but not quite tall enough to rest it on top. He pushes himself on his tippy toes to press the top of his head to the bottom of Kyles chin. He takes a dramatic step back and maybe Kyles tail is swaying a little bit with a silky soft comfort residing on his skin. He clasps his hands together, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah man, see you then," Kyle said, the instant he realized his tail was doing the thing he stilled it entirely. He felt a slight singe of cyan embarrassment. Stupid alien anatomy. Giving away how he feels.

Kenny pivots on his heel and gives a wave, "See ya man!" His steps are light and Kyle is watching with maybe a little bit too much intent.

He has zero legal rights to do so, but emotional and psychological rights? He has plenty. The first one being that he might've imprinted on Kenny the second his family landed on earth. He might've latched onto both Mysterion and Kenny like an orphan duckling in his childhood era of existing- so much so that he couldn't help the absolute giddiness when he learned they were the same. Maybe he got a little bit too attached to Kenny compared to everyone else in a human sense. But in an alien sense, in his instinctual sense, he was the perfect amount of attached considering how he thought of Kenny.

The second reason he stared was because Kenny had an undeniably amazing ass. That wasn't just personal opinion either, they held a vote after a particularly odd argument in the Freedom Pals lair. Kenny won by an absolute fucking landslide in the votes and voter fraud having taken place can't be confirmed or denied by anyone.

Except for Doctor Timothy of course.

And if there is a god, Kyle is praying everyday that the human one makes sure that Doctor Timothy doesn't look into the legitimacy of the votes.

Kyle barely drags himself back from his thoughts, he's been told he can get lost in them sometimes. His tail is wagging again, the multicolored diamond-like frills undulate a little bit. He swings the front door shut reluctantly when he can't see Kenny anymore. He tugs off his gloves and tosses them in a pile alongside his hat, letting the splotchy cyan coloration of his skin show. He makes his way up to his bedroom, but he finds his impossibly human little brother standing in his doorway.

"Ike, get out of the way," Kyle said sternly, giving a bit of a growl under his voice. His adoptive brother just quirks a brow in that annoying manner he learned from the humans.

Ike clears his throat, "No."

"Well why not?" Kyle questioned, growl snuffed and replaced with something louder and more resonant, it vibrated in his brothers flesh. It was something that Ike long since lost the ability to be intimidated by.

"When are you gonna stop inviting over your little posse of partners eh?" Ike asked, crossing one arm over the other. His tone was nothing but accusatory, Kyle saw through it.

"Are you jealous?" Came Kyles instant reaction.

"No," Ike responded with far too fast to be true.

"I'll play some video games with you on Thursday," Kyle offered.

Ike moved out of the way, "Enjoy wallowing in your disgusting room bud."

Kyle ignored him with nothing more than an eye roll, he made a point of slamming his door shut. He kicked aside a small heap of whatever, a mix of something or other he'd been intending to clean up. He gently picks up a small stack of comics Kenny had lent him and places them on his desk. Right beside the Mysterion charm. And the Mysterion action figure. And the other pieces of shitty Mysterion merchandise he had bought.

Okay, yeah, maybe he had a little bit too much Mysterion merchandise. He was just trying to put some extra cash into Kenny's pocket for when money is tight around the house. He just wanted to make sure his best friend was living a decent life, it wouldn't be enough to give him the life Kyle knew Kenny deserved, but it would help.

He takes hold of Kennys outfit and empties the contents of the pockets into a small bin. Loose change, granola bar wrappers, pocket knife, lock pick, the usual stuff he carried around for hero duties and then some. Kyle shakes the hood loose of any twigs or leaves and something large enough to clatter as it hits the metal netting of the bin falls out. His pointed ear gives a flick at the noise, he's dropping to the ground and pulling it out in a second.

He's completely enveloped in the mystery of what was hidden in Kennys hood because A: fucking genius hiding spot, and B: this could be what Kenny was hiding. It could be exactly what Kenny was trying so hard to keep under the radar, what he successfully kept hidden from everyone's prying eyes.

He came up with a tape, jet black, scratched plastic and a cracked see through window bit. There are silver markings across the black, seemingly unpredictable and laid out with either sharpie ink or a paint pen. The paper label is coffee stained and reads the date, recorded last month (why it's still on Kennys person is odd). The log number is left blank, presumably stated in the recording.

It was a jackpot and somewhere in the back of Kyles mind he knew he should ignore it. He knew this was shattering every rule in the book and that he'd be shattering his friendship with Kenny, Mysterion and Human Kite would probably stop being a dynamic duo at that.

But, he needed to know.

He absolutely fucking needed to know.

He wouldn't dare speak it too anyone ever, and he'd return it to the hood right afterwards. He wouldn't even tell Kenny that he listened to it, he'd just sleep at night knowing exactly what Kennys secret is. And that would be more than good enough for Kyle, he wouldn't need anything else.

He reaches blindly for his cassette player, the one he's held onto since he was young. One of his earliest earthly possessions, one he still cherished and used every day. He popped out the cassette already inside and gently placed the pilfered audio into it. He eagerly grabs his earbuds before pressing play.

Professor Chaos is pretty fucking sure doing this shit is helping out my mental state or whatever He doesn't know what he's dealing with He doesn't know that he's playing with fire trying to get me to spill my guts on his fancy therapy chair But, here I am, sitting on top of the police station fully decked out in my Mysterion persona just chatting it up with myself again

I already know exactly what the problem here is Chaos, the center of this massive shitfuck that even paid therapy couldn't fix!

I've probably said that a million times in every one of these stupid fucking recordings... shit I forgot to do that log date ha!

Ahem, log three, topic. Whatever comes out of my fucking mouth.

Kyle presses pause hesitantly.

Oh god.

This is an audio diary, just for spilling Kennys guts.

And he's listening to it.

He should stop. He really, truly, should.

But he doesn't.

Instead he presses play.

Where were we? Right, right, just saying whatever shit that comes to my mind . . . I'm pretty sure that Kyle thinks I can't see him stare at me whenever I fucking bend over or walk away I'm not complaining, I'm flattered really But jeez man just say it outright if you think I have a hot ass

The pause button is slammed this time.

Kyles face is burning up because Kenny knew apparently, he knew that Kyle stared at him at every chance he gets. He feels his stomach twist a bit because oh man, he got caught staring and Kenny didn't even mention. The usage of 'you' makes Kyle feel even more called out on the matter.

He could drop out now, maybe that's the secret, that Kenny knows he stares. He could sleep at night saying that's the thing he's keeping hidden.

I can't talk much if you put everything into consideration But still! Human Kite himself staring at my ass . . . That's fucking awesome if I'm being honest I would hope I'm being honest cause who else is gonna listen to the truth aside from this stupid tape

Like, I'm just doing whatever and I can feel it He is staring holes into me, somedays it's like he's hitting me with those fucking laser eyes! That'd be hilarious actually One second I'm loading a dishwasher and the next my ass is on fire because he couldn't help but stare The Coon would be laughing about that till he's dead

So would Toolshed

And Call Girl

And Mosquito

We'd all get a good laugh out of it

Except for Human Kite

I think he would die of embarrassment if he lit my ass on fire It'd be adorable Bright blue face, ears drooping the slightest bit, maybe his tail would do something I don't know He'd probably say sorry a lot All I know is that after I'm done putting out the fire I'd say "it's fine!" And then I'd think about how cute he looks for weeks on end

Fuck he's absolutely amazing in every sense of the word God, I'm supposed to use these to rant about my shitty family Not gush about my partner in heroics . Oh well

He's perfect! I swear on my mothers grave he is everything That grin he gets whenever he's about to blow someone sky high I can see almost all of his fangs when he does it, which are fucking scary by the way But I'll be damned if it isn't a little bit hot to think about He could kill me and I'll love him He could do absolutely anything to me and I'd still want him so fucking much

And!

And, and, and There's this little thing he does whenever he gets happy Where the weird bits on his tail like, shake? They move, his tail also wags But the frills don't move unless he's actually happy He can fake the wag but he can't fake the frills moving

It's so fucking cute and weird and different I love it

Anyways! This is South Parks number one worst superhero coming to you live from the top of the police station!

. . .

Shit I think someone heard me

Kyle is paralyzed as the tape ends, letting every single word soak into his brain. His tail is doing the thing, it's wagging. Every nerve in his body is alight and he feels his stomach twisting into knots. His claws are digging into the plastic of the tape player as he just stares. His eyes end up resting on his desk, his laptop, with all of his external attachments.

There's a rush to his movements as he grabs it and the oddest, most useless, thing he owns. A reverse recorder of sorts, a simple thing he crafted but never thought he'd have a chance to use. He flips open the top and jams the plug into it's socket before sliding the cassette as gently as possible into the gadget. He should not be doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this.

But he can't keep the cassette to keep hold of the audio, he needs too extract it if he ever wants to hear it again. Which is wrong, and bad, and he absolutely needs to stop but he isn't. He's clicking 'extract' and watching that loading bar fill up gratingly slow.

He places down his laptop gently and balls up the fabrics before leaving. There's a twist of wrong in his gut, but he ignores it as he swings open the washing machine door. He knows how fucking wretched this is, that he'll be absolutely ruined if anyone finds out. He won't be able to live down the shame of having anyone catch word that he knows the secret. That he knows what it is that's keeping Kenny wound up so tightly.

He'll just keep his mouth shut.

Real easy.

Real simple.

-/-/-/-

Kyle might be abusing the knowledge he garnered from the tape, maybe a little bit. He might be curling up next Kenny a little bit more than often, hunched under a flowing purple cape like a cougar despite the height difference. Just maybe he's resting his head atop Kenny's a little bit more than usual, purring a little bit louder whenever he comes into contact with Kenny.

He really doesn't care though, maybe there's a twisted sense of catharsis he gets from the knowledge that yes, it's reciprocated, despite doing nothing to change it. Being awkward homies acting like there's nothing going on below the surface is entirely acceptable and everything that he's wanted from Kenny the second his family landed. Definitely. Absolutely. He didn't imprint. He absolutely did not imprint. He killed off that instinct way back in fourth grade.

Right after he met Kenny.

One second too late. And he is one hundred percent sure everyone in his family can see it, even Ike! Except, the little shit will hold it over him if he gets a chance. Taunting and teasing that Kyle imprinted on his best friend instead of literally anyone else. Of course, the asshole knows better what with every member of his family sporting claws made to rend flesh.

"Kyle!"

The Broflovski perks up a bit at his name being called. Stan sits down across from him, sliding his safety glasses off as he does so.

"You good man?" Stan asked, Kyle nodded.

"I'm great, amazing even," Kyle said, he gestured vaguely as he spoke.

Stan stayed silent for a moment.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, "I think I fucked up the first day I landed."

"That was years ago, and just now it's affecting you?" Stan asked. He kicked up his feet to rest on the table.

"Yeah, and Kenny's sort of being an ass. He can trust us, he can trust us more than anyone else in this fucking town!" There's an exasperated exhale as he comes down from the near shout, "How come he's not telling us?"

Stan shrugged, "That's his business, if he doesn't want to tell us, just respect that."

"But-"

"Respect it," Stan pressed, "He might fess up to you first if you just give him time."

"I doubt it," Kyle muttered, barely loud enough for Stan to hear. His tail is snaking around his waist tightly. Tight enough he can feel it sting just a bit.

"Dude. Firstly, calm down," Stan said, Kyle glared at him. The ravenette simply gestured to the prehensile appendage squeezing the air from Kyle's lungs. He drops it, "Secondly, you're his best friend. If he's telling anyone it'll be you."

Kyle gave a hesitant nod, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Stan gave him a grin, comforting, grounding. He dropped down his feet and leaned over the table, holding out a hand. Kyle placed his atop Stan's, his hand was larger. Cyan tinted fingertips tapping along an open palm, "It's fine man, he'll tell us soon enough. It's not like he can keep a secret forever."

"No, you're right man. He can't keep a secret from us forever," Kyle said, a small grin on his face as Stan tightened his grip.

"Now stop stressing so much," Stan said, "Go get some calamari or whatever."

-/-/-/-

Kyle finds the next tape in a vent on top of Unplanned Parenthood while he's on a mission. He's quick to slide it into his pocket before Mysterion can notice. He can't just, jeopardize this discovery, he isn't even sure if he can call it a discovery if he's sure of what it is.

A shoulder collides with him and he stumbles just a bit. His arms are quick to push Mysterion right back up again. There's a crack down his lips and he looks to Kyle, "Get your head in the game, Kite!"

A blast of something or other comes straight at them and there's a brief second of hesitation before Mysterion is tossed out of the way and Kyle is ducking. The blonde is easily caught again and placed down, "Gladly," He takes Mysterion's hand, "Show me how?"

There's a smirk, bone chilling to many but it only makes Kyle's stomach flutter. Mysterion tightens his grip briefly, "Let's go then."

He's quick to launch Kyle forward with a running start, the alien tackling down whichever thug is on them now. Claws detract and tear through silver hued gloves as he snarls, easily dwarfing the goon. They're shaking as Kyle bares his fangs, tail thrashing about and body hunched in a predatory stance. Is he snarling? He is, he's proud of it too as he brings himself to be face to face.

He rears back on his knees, clawed hand raised and ready to slash. He goes to tear open their throat, but a grasp at the back of his collar prevents him. It short circuits him a little bit as the fabric of gloves press against cool skin.

"My friend here isn't exactly human," Mysterion said calmly as he released Kyle's costume. He stayed still and glanced up to Mysterion.

There's a shaky nod from the thug.

"Now, you have two options," Mysterion said. His tongue briefly slid between lips to capture the blood seeping from the crack. He circled around the dropped person a bit more, "Number one, you leave. You run to Canada, and never bother us again."

No response.

"Number two, Human Kite kills you. Right here," Mysterion snaps his fingers and as practiced Kyle gnashes his fangs with a growl, "Right now."

"I'll run! I'll leave!" The convict practically screamed.

"Fine, Kite?" Mysterion said. Claws come down atop the goons eye, deep enough to scar and maybe to go blind in one eye. Kyle stands up, red contrasting the cyan of his fingertips, he watches them run and revels in it.

Once they're far off, darting down staircases and running through the streets, does Mysterion take a seat. He drops down on the roof and Kyle takes a seat beside him, frilled tail wrapping around Mysterion's waist. A hand comes to push back the hood and he leans his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude, being a hero is so sucky," Kenny said with a light laugh, "I just wanna get killed sometimes."

Kyle gives a hum.

"I just come back anyways, but we seriously haven't faced anyone actually dangerous in years," Kenny said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke to drive in the point.

"Definitely," Kyle said, Kenny dropped down onto his back. Kyle leans back to meet him in eye contact.

"I miss when this shit was fun," Kenny said, a sigh on his voice as he spoke.

"I think that most of us do," Kyle answered with. His tongue, forked, flickered out for a brief second.

"You're just like a snake man," Kenny said.

Cyan rose to Kyle's face, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, your tongue. It looks like a snakes, forked," Kenny said, he did the spock thing with his hands as if to display forked. He stuck out his tongue at the same time, "It's really fucking cool. You got some scales right? And those weird little ridges on your back? All of those are snake-y things, Kyle."

"Yeah, cause I'm a freakish little dude," Kyle said extravagantly, as if to make his point he gave a set jazz hands, gloves off to expose to smallest bit of cyan webbing. He sticks out his tongue between too sharp teeth, "Absolutely monstrous."

"I'd hardly say 'little' is the word for you, ya six foot monster," Kenny taunted back, "And I love ya for that man."

Kyle barely beats down the intensifying flush on his face, "Well, won't stop me from being at least a little bit snake like. It's more fun to be a weird creature than a human anyways," He drops down and nudges Kenny's shoulder with his head until he sits up and nudges off the silvery cape. A hand rests in a tangle of red curls for a brief moment before the alien curls around Kenny's back.

"You're also very... Cat. Very feline. Very not human," Kenny said, words teasing but loving nonetheless.

He rested his hand on top of Kyle's head, gently sifting through a sea of red. He leaned back on his friends torso a little bit as he brought a second hand to run through Kyle's hair. He shifted around a bit to rest almost on his knees, facing Kyle just a bit more. His side pressed to Kyle's lower rib cage, his hands didn't leave the redheads hair for a second. He slid down his friends face just a bit, callused thumbs briefly brushing over the ever sensitive auricle fins he had. Were they fins? Not quite, just cyan flares at the base of pointed ears.

He let his fingers scritch just past the back of Kyle's ears, resting atop the buzzed patch of hair. Olive green eyes fluttered shut as Kenny just rubbed right there, the sweet spot. He slumps into Kenny's hands, chin resting at the heel of his palm (he can't see the gentle smile on Kenny's face).

The blonde nearly explodes when Kyle starts to purr. It starts soft, but it slowly grows, shaking Kenny down to his core with his side pressed against Kyle's diaphragm. Or his lungs. Or his whatever it is that makes that wonderful rumbling sound giving Kenny enough serotonin to live forever. He already will, but this is making that eternity sound a lot more bearable. Then he hears a thudding- three, soft thumps before it resets and happens again. His tail is wagging, Kyle really likes being scratched behind the ears apparently.

Kenny's pretty sure he's falling asleep with the pads of his finger, despite being rough and scratchy, gently rubbing behind his ears. He lifts his fingers for a second too long and Kyle opens up his eyes, "Why'd you stop?" He sounds groggy and disappointed, he stops purring.

Kenny picks up the motions, "You were falling asleep," He tosses his cape over Kyle's form.

Kyle lazily blinks, one eye, then the other. He shrugs the best he can, "And?"

"Good point," Kenny said on a hum as he twirls a finger through curls, a light tug.

Kyle's tail starts to thud again and he's sure the afterglow of this will never fade.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's feeling a little bit guilty about tuning into this tape.

Not nearly enough to make him stop though.

He drops down on his bed comfortably, he doesn't even bother to put in his earbuds. His parents are out for the weekend, his brother is at Kenny's to hang out with Karen, presumably fishing. He knows that he's bound to get a call from Ike sometime in the night for a ride, for Ike, Karen, and maybe even Kenny if it's really rough. But, he'll have enough time to listen to the entirety of it.

He presses play.

I think shits getting worse I'm not using these things properly I should be using these for literally anything else! I could talk about how much I worry about my sister, or my money problems, or whatever!

But I'm still using these tapes for just a few little things

Mostly talking about Kite Not gonna use his actual name this time cause someone heard me last week I'm pretty sure I ran them out of town For good

Do I feel bad about that?

Absolutely not

Gotta protect a mans privacy, even if that means blood and intimidation Which uh, I swear it didn't involve blood This time at least

Now, log number... nine? I'm pretty sure this is number nine I would go back and check 'em all out again, but I lost one of them No clue where the little fucker went But it's gone

Kyle pauses the tape. There's missing ones- he needs to find it before Kenny does. He can just put it back later, like he'll do with this one after he's done thoroughly listening to it. He put back the last one, slid it back into the hidden pocket and acted like it never happened.

Of course, since then he's always checked the hidden pocket whenever he got a chance to do so. But, he's been unlucky in terms of finding any up until this one which leaves him with the idea that the rest have been planted around town. He shuts off his rampant train of thought- he is not going to try and sleuth out all of the tapes. He still has some respect for Kenny's privacy, he still has some intention to keep their friendship intact, and most importantly, he still has full intention of never acting on any of what he hears in said tapes.

That would give away that he's been listening to them, a risk he can't take. He clicks the button again.

Look, I always knew Kite was a weird one Everyone does The guys alien, so we cut him some slack on human things that go mostly unspoken

Conversational subtext, call frequency, having beer on ice- simple shit

And in turn, we also try to learn a bit about his species culture I don't even know if species is the right word Does that make me racist? Are aliens even a race to be racist against? Could I even discriminate if only... Three, exist on earth?

So many questions, so little time

Of course, there isn't exactly a lot about his kind I doubt there's a lot of his kind His mom keeps making quips about how all of them would come to earth if it was easier to integrate But honestly? If you just got rid of the alien extremities I would not be able to tell that Kite isn't human

Same with his parents The lot of them blend in perfectly Don't know why she stresses so much And even if they didn't, they have a human to vouch for them A bunch of humans actually

There's a brief pause where Kyle let's himself think about that for a moment. He's never had a chance to think about it before. He doesn't really dwell on it for longer than a minute, flipping himself onto his stomach. His tail lazily sways back and forth as he listens/

I think I got off point there

Allow me to relocate and get back to what I was supposed to be talking about

. . .

There is a fucking line, Kite! You stay on your side of the line! You can't just walk over to my side! Just waltz on over like you own the fucking place! And just, act like it's no big deal! You just sit down right next to me. Like. Right next to me, are thighs are fucking pressed against each other and you lean into me! You just, push your head up against my shoulder like a fucking cat until I give you attention

Which I always do I'm weak

And then you start purring, and your tail does a dumb little wag! And I'm sitting there, begging and pleading, that I don't do something dumb You're putty in my fucking hands Asking me to just shower you in attention! I do, I always do- I always sit there and give you attention

Whatever it is you want I'd give it to you I'd do it for you Anything, for you

The voice softens just a bit, lowering itself. He sounded so very, very mad. Not even mad, just agitated. His voice is heady, wrapped into the narrative he's spinning so accurately. Kyle feels his stomach flip at the words droning so deeply into his skull. The notions made his skin tingle, heart pulsating so very fast he wouldn't be shocked if it exploded all at once.

But no! I stay on my side of the line Like a good boy

Because I don't wanna freak him out Or scare him off

I feel like such a fucking perv And I am a bit pervy I am fully aware of the fact that I am known to stare if someone fine is walking by

But.

To stare at Kite? To want Kite?

It definitely caught me off guard

And he isn't human He doesn't get it I touch him I feel like I'm dirtying him Even if it's just a high five! I have too much on mind for this shit

I see that idiot and you know what I wanna to do?

Do you even wanna to know what I want do to him?

Kyle slams the pause button, he can feel his nerves shoot up in shock. His tail has went from lazily thumping back and forth to wagging like that of a dogs. The minute ridges on his back are shaking, just a bit. He may be mildly cold-blooded, but right now he really can't tell.

He looks down at his hands and they're entirely cyan, normally just a little bit at the tips. The hue shoots up his forearms. He can practically hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the sound bangs back and forth in his skull.

Oh.

Oh he's opened up a massive can of worms with this tape.

He keeps listening

I'd just

.

I would-

.

Fuck man I can't even say it out loud I don't know what I was thinking!

I'm sitting on top of city hall and I was about to go off about how I'd fuck him!

Could I even fuck him? Are the species compatible? Do aliens even have reproductive organs?

They must They totally do How else do they, how do they reproduce? Eggs?

. . . Nasty

But I would fucking worship him I would do whatever he asked me too Even if he's too unversed in human reproduction to ask me too fuck him up I'd still do what he asks me too

You wanna go out at that new pizza place that charges by the minute? Let's go darling

You wanna go check out the newest arcade cabinet? Baby, the cars already running

You want me to get your logo as a tramp stamp? I might not do that one actually . That's a lie I'd do anything for him

. . .

God, I'm such a mess I need real therapy

Kyle has long since buried his face in a pillow to muffle his screams (although they're closer to high pitched squeals) and cover his ears. He feels like he's running a fever, a really, really bad fever. Every square inch of his body is on fire and he can't care much that he's clawing into his pillow, downy soft feathers spilling from gouges.

He's drawing a blank.

A complete and utter blank.

He hears the click signalling it's over and he feels his stomach twist in regret.

It's a lot easier to hide that you know something if said something isn't... that, whole thing that just happened. His ears are ringing a little bit as the words ping around the sides of his head, like a game of Pong. The pillow is still keeping his face covered as he rolls onto his back, then his side, then his front, and his side again, knees pressed flush against the wall. Fuck, he feels like he's sixteen all over again, and that was just three years ago! He's too young to be having moments like this.

He mechanizes his breathing, eyes wide open as he stares at the darkness of the space themed pillow case in front of him. Sheer darkness with the occasional blip of a lighter hue. His tail is still thrashing, whipping back and forth madly, he's sure it would scuff the wall if it hit it.

He has to come down from his safe space eventually. Even if that safe space is merely a pillow pressed to his face.

He tosses aside the pillow and rolls onto his back and just stares at the ceiling.

His entire existence has officially been flipped on it's head.

He hears his cell phone ring and he reaches for it, answering before even checking whose calling. He gives a cracked, "Hello?"

"Dude are you good? You sound like you've just been crying," Came Kenny's voice, concern laid on thick.

Kyle nearly hangs upon the spot but instead he bites his tongue and doesn't say a word.

"Look man, dads being a bit of an ass, and Ike was wondering if you could come pick him up for the umpteenth time," Kenny said. He gave a hum, "Could Karen tag along?"

"Totally man," Kyle answered with as he sat up, trying so hard to still his tail. It swiped back and forth atop the blankets, he felt a little bit wrong about not telling Kenny what he knew right now. But, this is a bad time to do that, any Kyle can lie his way out of it again. He hesitates before adding, "You need an escape too?"

"It'd be nice, but you already sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you perhaps 'jacking it', my fine, alien friend?" Kenny asked tauntingly, his smugness was palatable.

Kyle wished he could just say 'yeah' and move on instead of carefully think over his next words. Life would much simpler if his head didn't catch on the usage of 'fine' in referral to himself. His mouth felt dry but he choked out some words anyways. "Dude, what makes you think I even have a dick? I got that weird ass alien biology, don't I?""

There's a laugh on the other side, "Hey man, not all of my shots are gonna be spot on. But really, if you don't want me over I won't come," There's an tenderness to his voice and the contrast to the almost gritty and desperate tone he had on the tape gives Kyle whiplash.

"You can if you want too, but I'll probably pass out pretty fast," Kyle lied. He'd just lay in bed, wide awake, for potentially hours with Kenny on the floor beside him. That's how it usually went at least.

"Going full on feral like you did earlier takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Kenny asked.

Silence.

"Silent treatment, did I strike a nerve bud? Regardless, we'll be out front in ten," Kenny said, "I can make you some hot coco if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Was Kyle's weak response.

-/-/-/-

The night was a lot more tense than either of them wanted it to be.

They usually shared a hug before actually getting into bed and trying to pass out. And if not that then Kyle would subtly demand some time to just, co-exist, in very close proximity to each other. In even more minimal situations, they would just share some words of 'love you bro' and call it a night.

None of that transpired.

"I can just go home man," Kenny offered at the break of two AM.

Kyle rolled over to the edge of his bed, leaning over it just a bit, "It's fine."

"Is something wrong? Cause like, you've just been acting... off, lately," Kenny said gently as he propped himself on his elbows, both resting on his pillow.

"Nothings wrong," Kyle said, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, "I am gonna ask my parents some questions when they get back."

"About what?" Kenny asked quietly, as though he were afraid of shattering the night if he spoke too loud. The navy walls cast deep blue across the room, reflecting the moonlight in a comfortable darkness.

Kyle stayed silent.

"Alien stuff?" Kenny asked.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, alien stuff."

"Fun," Kenny answered with a scoff. He dropped back down again and turned to face Kyle, Kyle's bed frame at least, "But for real, you're just- somethings going on in your head. I can tell."

Kyle shrugged, "It's stupid."

"I won't judge man, you're my best friend," Kenny said. And he said it in such a way that for a brief second Kyle forgot about the tapes entirely.

"How are you supposed to talk to someone about something you don't want too?" Kyle asked, trying to withhold and give equal amounts of information.

Kenny paused, "Work out the words in your head. Practice once or twice, maybe even record it. Figure out what needs to be reworked. Write it out if you must- just get it out of your head."

Kyle nodded.

"Trust me man, the second it's out of your head and off your shoulders, life will be easier," Kenny explained reassuringly, "Even if it's only for a second or two."

"Thanks bro," Kyle said quietly.

"Least I can do," Kenny said.

There's a beat of hesitance, "Love you man."

"Love you too," And then Kenny turns away from him, tugging the blanket up to his shoulders.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's pretty sure that Kenny is onto him at this rate, but, he tries to ignore the terrible slithering sensation that he's been caught.

He just focuses on whatever comes next.

This time it's none other than The Coon himself deciding he needs to bring something up with Kyle. Silence drenches the room in the worst way possible as he sits across from the hybrid. Furred ears are swiveled to face Kyle and it makes him feel impossibly nervous, he knows that Cartman can hear his heartbeat. Can it hear pick up speed when Stan sits down beside him, even more so when Wendy joins.

And then Clyde, Timothy, Jimmy- all on one side of Cartman.

Tweek and Craig sit down on the side with Wendy and Stan, Scott as well.

"We know you figured it out, Kyle," Cartman said calmly, tone frigid in a way that makes Kyle feel paralyzed. The hybrid clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table.

"Figured what out?" Kyle snaps back with, trying his hardest to muster the usual snarkiness he has around Cartman. Bute he fails, miserably at that. He just sounds pathetic, grasping at straws if nothing else.

"Don't play dumb," Wendy said, she sounded sharp. She may be tough as nails, and normally Kyle respects that, admires it even, but when it's directed towards him? He gets why people run from Call Girl.

"Why in the cosmos should I tell the likes of you?" Kyle answered with, feebly trying to defend Kenny's privacy.

A privacy that he had already thoroughly breached and ravaged, alongside the unspoken trust they had. He had wrecked it, ruined it, destroyed it- but he could salvage it from the fact Kenny didn't know that Kyle knew.

"You can trust us, Kyle. We're your best friends," Clyde said. And he was right, he was so right.

Kyle's tail snaked itself around the chair leg, "Really guys, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"His secret, Kyle," Cartman said, "Tell us."

"I," He hesitated, "I can't."

"You've already fucked up your relationship with him enough, Kyle. I got Wendy to do a deep dive on your species, and of the few things she could find, she discovered this," Cartman said. He raised a folder, an awful beige and orange hue, and slid it over to Kyle.

The alien hesitantly took it. It was three pages thick, presumably doubled sided. He opened it and skimmed through the headings, he knew every single trait in and out. He paused at the highlighted one, "You're joking."

"This is serious man," Stan said, "We wouldn't just accuse you of imprinting of Kenny without any basis."

"That's stupid. He's my best friend. That's all, that's our dynamic- the kind of dynamic that rakes in loads of cash," Kyle defended with, hoping that pressing on Cartman's one pressure point would make him let up. He slammed the folder shut and slid it back, "Even if I did imprint on him, it would ruin the franchise and never be reciprocated."

"Then tell us what the secret is, you have nothing to lose, no? Just a friend, they come and go on earth," Cartman said. He was calling Kyle's bluff, did he even realize it? He probably did, or if he didn't, he'd snoop until he did.

"Ask Professor Chaos instead, he knows more," Kyle said, trying so, so hard to deflect. The tension pooling everywhere under his skin was agonizing. He needed an out so bad, he needed an escape so, so fucking bad.

Cartman scoffs, "Already done, he said he was sworn to some oath of secrecy, sent us to you."

Kyle stays silent, forcing eye contact with the sleaze in front of the him. The trash eater himself, scraping tactics from the bottom of the barrel.

"Just tell us, no harm will come from it," Cartman said sternly.

"It'll destroy my friendship with Kenny," Kyle snarled out.

"No new harm will come from it, we all know the damage has been done my friend, it's just yet to be discovered," Cartman said, words cutting into Kyle like a knife.

He bites his tongue, Cartman's right, "Give me a week to collect more information on the subject, then I'll report back with the news."

There's a smug and satisfied grin on Cartman's face as he leans back, "See? That wasn't so hard, was now?"

Kyle stands up and pushes away from the table, "I'm going."

"Don't forget about your patrol with Mysterion tomorrow evening, Kite!" Cartman calls out, head leaned back on his chairs backrest.

Kyle's tail is swaying angrily, "Fuck off."

His fangs are grinding against each other as he storms off, if it weren't for the fact he was in suit he would punt the closest chihuahua like a football. Or do something else just as dumb. Maybe kick a fire hydrant and hope it doesn't dent, or punch a tree. Something to make the tense feeling uncoil, to let himself just relax for one second.

He doesn't deserve that though.

He's been uprooting the very foundations of his friendship with Kenny, all because of some morbid curiosity. And Kenny doesn't even fucking know. Kyle is just getting away with it cause he's being awfully slick with how careful he is to put everything back exactly where he found it.

The worst part is how long it's taken for him to feel genuine guilt about it if nothing else. He's such a fucking snake, biting onto his relationship with Kenny and refusing to let go. Sinking fangs deeper and deeper, searching for more even though it's cannibalizing itself. And the first taste is all that it takes to get someone hooked, shame that the thing he got a taste of was metaphorical guts. Kenny just hasn't realized he's stuck in this ouroboros of a relationship.

Despite that, a really twisted and messed up part of him persists in wondering when he'll find the next tape.

-/-/-/-

He finds the next tape almost a week after the interrogation.

Although, we're using the term 'find' rather loosely here. Instead it sort of, fell directly into his lap. And despite knowing better and not wanting to go any further, he still held onto it and didn't let go.

"Thanks for washing my gear man," Kenny said as he stood at the door, Kyle held the bundle of purple fabrics in hand.

He gave a smile, as convincing as he could manage, "No problem man, least I can do."

"See ya tomorrow bro," Kenny said before pivoting on a heel to leave which struck Kyle as odd. The blonde usually loitered for a little bit, chatted casually about whatevers on his head. But none of that came today.

Still, Kyle closed the door and walked down to the luandry room before shaking out the purple. There was that clatter, plastic against unfinished flooring, it was just concrete at the moment. He tossed in the clothing and flipped on the spin cycle with a bit of lavender scented soap. He slid down the front of the washing machine and stared at the tape.

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

He does.

He grips the tape and slams it into the player and hits the play button before he can further question his actions.

I know you're hearing this, Kyle I don't know how long you've been listening to my diary for But it's you It has to be you

Kyle swears his heart stops dead in its tracks. He barely registers that the grit Kenny forces when he's acting out Mysterion has disappeared. That this is just Kenny now.

Who else would be messing with my tapes They're never just right when you put them back You leave scuff marks on the plastic I can fingerprint things, Kyle

I planted this one And log number twelve The rest though? I don't know how many of those you've heard

I'll admit I never meant for number three to fall into your hands I just thought you'd be kind enough to not listen in

. . . How wrong I was

And it's a real shame too You better not have told the rest of the team, Kyle I will make you regret every single breath you've taken if you have

But, that's only if I can get that intel from the gang Do be warned that Cartman is very easy to persuade It won't take me much longer than ten minutes to make him crack

The rest will go even faster Although, I'd give Wendy much longer Craig? He'll be shattering in seven minutes, tops Tweek? Three, maybe four Stan? He trusts me more than you'd expect, he won't even fight

I hope I was right about you being smart, Kyle

Kyle's blood turns to ice.

He is so fucked.

At least he didn't tell Cartman.

You already know my big secret And you have two options, Kyle

Option one: Meet me at Starks Pond tonight to confirm how you feel about the contents of these logs. I'm probably sitting there right now

Option two: Don't. This horrible relationship limbo can remain just like this, on my end I've been stuck here for years

Look, Kyle, what you've done here You're forcing my hand I don't have any other options

Do what you want

I clearly can't stop you

The tape is flung from the cassette player to the other side of the room, it hits the wall and cracks. A thousand regrets pool in the pit of Kyle's stomach and he wants to vomit. He also wants to curl up in a ball and die. Or live in Cartman's basement instead, those are all good options.

But in the same breath...

He's being given a choice when he was sure this whole thing he had with Kenny would simply implode, collapse in on itself and die. He has one chance to make this better than it is. He'll never be able to make this right, but, he can at least try and reinforce the breaking pieces before it's entirely broken.

He picks himself up off the ground and starts on his way up the stairs. He freezes at the door, is he gonna do this? Is he gonna go out to Starks Pond and talk like he should've far too long ago?

Yeah, yeah he fucking is.

The real question is if he's actually gonna say whats been fueling his co-dependency with Kenny for so long.

He isn't sure if he'll manage to fess up to the stupidest biological function he has. He'll try, he'll make an attempt to explain exactly what's been conspiring inside of his head without him even realizing for so many years. He'll at the very least get out a couple words to explain the dumbest thing he's been roped into by his own genetics and unfortunate timing.

-/-/-/-

The ever-present snow and ice crunches under Kyle's boots, but that's the last thing he's focusing on. His eyes are trained ahead of hi as he walks along the edge of Starks Pond. His tail is still, a very rare occurrence.

When he reaches the edge of the pond that Kenny's standing at he's lost his words. The blonde is just staring at him, looking for tells. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his orange jacket, bright orange, pumpkin orange. Kyle can't focus on anything.

"It worked, you nosy little shit," Kenny said, words weaponized with ease.

"Yeah, it worked," Kyle said. He took a step closer, "I'm sorry," and then another, "For everything really," A third step and Kenny tenses, flinching back just a bit. In turn Kyle steps back.

"For what? Did you tell them?" Kenny asked defensively. He sounded scared more than anything else.

"I know better than that Kenny, they did interrogate me though," Kyle explained stiffly.

Kenny gives a hum, "That gets that problem out of the way."

Kyle nods, "Yeah, that it does."

"So, you listened to three, nine, twelve, and seven, right?" Kenny asked.

"Sorry," Kyle said.

"At least have the decency to dignify me with an answer man, you just fucking ruined me. I had to record that final tape five times before it was good enough to use. I swear to god, normally I'd cut you some slack and now you know why, but not this time," Kenny spat sharply, "So, you listened to those tapes, right?"

"Yep, the four that you listed," Kyle said, his attempt to stay professional just made him sound stiff and disjointed.

This time Kenny faltered before speaking, "And your opinions on them?"

"Positive," Kyle answered with faster than a bullet. His tail flicked as he spoke.

"Anything else?" Kenny asked, desperation heavy on his voice. Thick like molasses.

"I think I imprinted on you- which means something different then it does for the ducks!" Kyle was quick to backtrack on his words, Kenny just looked intrigued, "My species has a 'thats the one' instinct. If we find the right person, it activates, and according to my parents at least, it's usually subliminal. When we landed, I imprinted on you- so, to me, you're the one. And for all I know, unless you die and stay dead, that stupid ass hormonal flux won't go down."

Kenny stayed silent.

"I'm stuck fixating on you until one of us dies, my kind mates for life, and unless I submit myself to experimental science the animal part of my brain is gonna keep screaming that you're mine. Which is kind of annoying, and dumb, and gets in the way- and I didn't even realize it until I found that first tape. I've just been infatuated with you since grade four and I don't know how to make it stop," Kyle spilled, some words meshing together in a blend of syllables. Cyan progressively rose to his face the entire time he spoke. He dropped down to the ground, facing away from Kenny and towards the water, "I'm so fucking sorry Kenny."

Kenny took a few tentative steps closer to where Kyle sat, his tail lay curled around him yet limp on the ground. His ears were drooping a bit and he looked ashamed of himself, a little bit distraught at that. "I'm not gonna disown you, Kyle. That'd just be fucking stupid."

"I didn't mean to ruin your life man, you could've been scoring. God, I probably scared off so many people without even realizing it," Kyle choked out weakly. He pressed his nails into the heel of his palm, "I swear I didn't mean to imprint on you. I swear man- I can try and suppress it."

"It's fine, Kyle," Kenny said as he crouched down beside Kyle. He bumped their shoulders together.

No response.

Okay, that was worrying. It struck a particular chord in the depths of Kenny's chest. One very, very similar to the 'my sister is hurt' chord, which unlocks a specific subset of reactions. Those reactions include:

A: Unbridled violence on whoever caused this B: Giving tried and true advice C: Terrible jokes and playful punches D: Just listening with or without a glass of warm milk

None of those options seem optimal, so Kenny improvises.

"I mean, the whole 'imprint' thing doesn't bother me," Kenny said as he sat down behind Kyle. His knees were bent and he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude I fucking ruined your life," Kyle got out quietly, his tail snapped to punctuate his sentence. It wrapped itself around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Beg to differ," Kenny said as he slowly raised his hands up. He gently placed them at the base of Kyle's skull, he tensed but didn't move. Kenny slowly rubbed circles in just behind Kyle's ears in the hopes it would calm him down.

Kyle leaned back into Kenny a bit, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Half of those tapes were me going off about how much I adore you and want you, Kyle. I know you have a brain in there, put it to some use," Kenny said, a small grin on his face as he spoke. He could feel Kyle start to purr, "Just think about it."

Kyle paused for a moment, to just let all of the data sink in. He felt like a total idiot when the conclusion formed in his head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Kenny answered with, "Good thing."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Kyle said with a laugh on his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter around Kenny's leg, constricting, like a snake, "Can't wait to confirm my families suspicions."

"Do they think we're a thing?" Kenny asked as he combed his fingers through Kyle's hair.

Kyle nodded, "Probably, apparently I've been signalling some very, very vulgar and subtle things to you with my tail for the past six years. I didn't even notice my tail was moving half the time, but it was- mom and dad had to explain that to me which was fun."

"Did you stop?" Kenny asked.

"Naw, definitely not," Kyle answered with smugly, "You never knew anyways."

Kenny gives a hum, "I would say I was giving some vulgar signs myself, but humans don't have a good way to do that discretely."

"I've noticed," Kyle said, "I can read half of you like books with all the tells each of you have."

"Guess Ill have to be even more mysterious so the guys don't catch on," Kenny said as Kyle started to purr, the vibrations rapidly picking up in volume. It felt nice.

"They aren't idiots dude," Kyle said, "They'll catch on soon enough."

"Or we could just walk in there holding hands one day, wait for someone to point it out and go 'yeah we're dating now' and just act like nothing has changed," Kenny said, "Even if we don't go to the movies or eat out at restaurants- that'd be funny."

"We'll see what happens first," Kyle answered with. He holds his breath for a beat, "Love you, Kenny," There's a veritable depth to the words now.

"Love you, Kyle," Kenny answered with the same as he always has, Kyle just never noticed the subtext. He presses a brief kiss to Kyle's forehead.

-/-/-/-

Stan is the first one too notice that Kyle and Kenny are different. A good different though. They're more synced up on the field, better at silent communication, just predicting each other in general. It definitely benefits the team as a whole for the crime-fighting, but whether or not the development is good for the franchise is a whole other story.

He's the first one to ask around about it too.

"Hey Wendy, Kyle and Kenny-"

"Are acting off? I noticed," Wendy said, cutting Stan short with ease. She glanced up from her phone, "I'm already scouring about for details."

"Anything actually come up?" Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head, "Nope, you'd assume that there'd be something; but most searches are coming up dry."

"Worth a shot," Stan said with a sigh.

"You should go ask Craig, he's pretty close to Kenny," Wendy offered up and before she could finish her sentence Stan was looking for Craig.

He was sitting at his desk as usual, cruddy costume and all.

"Craig whats up with Kyle and Kenny?" Stan asked.

And without skipping a beat Craig answered with, "They're homosexuals, Stan."

"What?" Came Stan's dead response, words hollow and in disbelief.

Craig nodded to the aforementioned duo walking in, "Go ask why they're holding hands."

Stan faltered.

"Listen, if you're afraid I'm right you should've asked out Kyle sooner to avoid it," Craig blatantly accused, the words forced the air from Stan's lungs like a sucker punch.

Now aware that Craig is going to keep mentally gut punching him, Stan just heads on off to Kyle and Kenny. They are indeed holding hands, and Kyle's tail is wrapped around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Look, you two," Stan began with.

"Yeah man, what's up?" Kyle asked, and he's hiding a grin poorly. He's sure that it adds to the confusion Stan is displaying.

Kenny was right.

This is pretty fucking funny.

"How come you guys are holding hands?" Stan asked quietly.

"Kyle imprinted on me," Kenny said bluntly, "We're dating now."

"How long has this been going on for?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "A month, we were waiting for you guys to notice."

Craig gives a smug, "Told you so!" from his desk.

"Were you guys betting on what was happening?" Kenny asked, an undertone of a snicker to his voice.

"No, even if we did Craig would've won," Stan said spitefully.

Kyle grins a bit, "No need to be sour man, you can still break the news to Cartman, I'm sure it'll be hysterical to see his reaction."

"Dude. Let's go find Cartman," Kenny said eagerly, he was practically vibrating where he stood. Hes grinning that gap tooth grin, "I need to see his reaction right now."

"Wanna tag along?" Kyle asked, holding out a hand to Stan.

He refrained from taking it, "Totally man."

Craig sidles up beside the three of them, "I got a camera to record it."

[sunshinyminho]

control

⇢ pairing: lee know (skz) x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

⇢ summary: after losing a bet you made with your boyfriend, you almost forget about what he has in store for you…until minho decides he wants to play when you’re having a night out with friends.

⇢ word count: 5.8k

⇢ rating: 18+

⇢ warnings: public masturbation? (reader is in public with a vibrator inside), very slight exhibitionism, somewhat dom!minho and brat!reader for a little bit but it’s nothing too major,  more use of a vibrator, reader gets teary eyed a few times but doesn’t actually cry, oral (f.), hair pulling, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, reader rides on top, partially clothed sex, dirty talk, minho says fuck a lot - like a lot a lot, slight marking up, cumming inside, cockwarming? (you’ll see at the end), they cuddle and are very soft and in love ok

⇢ release date: december 27, 2021

A/N: hi!! this is my first nsfw skz fic, it was a bit of a challenge but overall i’m happy i was able to write it. if you read it, i hope you enjoy it!

“Baby, you feeling ok?”

Minho’s arm around you tightened, pulling you closer to his side. You glared daggers at him, having just been abruptly cut off during your conversation.

Before you could answer, another wave hit you. Minho looked at you with concern, but you noticed the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Hey, you good?” Jisung stared at you from across the table, food forgotten momentarily as he focused on you while you tried not to squirm in your seat.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, no, I’m fine! Just an upset stomach is all.”

Jisung’s frown didn’t disappear but he didn’t question you further. He instead turned to face Jeongin so they could continue the conversation the 3 of you had been holding.

You gripped the table with your hands to steady yourself, hoping no one could hear the vibrations from under it.

Minho leaned in, looking to the others - you hoped - like he might whisper something sweet in your ear. He instead tugged on it gently with his teeth, hidden from view partially by your hair. You shivered under his touch, making him chuckle.

“You know you can fold anytime. Just say the word and we’ll be out of here.” Your boyfriend placed a kiss on your temple before he sat back in his chair, arm still tight around you.

A quick glance around the others at the table let you know that they either weren’t paying attention or didn’t care either way for Minho’s display of affection.

Your friend group had grown quite used to your antics as a couple, more-so on Minho’s side than yours. He wasn’t always big on PDA, but every now and then he’d steal a kiss in public or hold you closer just because he wanted to.

And you loved it.

What you didn’t love however was the smug smirk on his handsome face while you sat there suffering at his hands. The vibrator was working mercilessly inside of you, and it was still on the lowest setting.

Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, Minho fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you mumbled so only he could hear it.

The tiny smile he gave you indicated that yes, he had heard you, and yes, he indeed did dare.

“Hey Hyunjin, did you ever get that text I sent you yesterday?”

You saw Minho scrolling down his phone screen and before you could react your body was wracked with more intense vibrations, so strong that you had to lay your head down on the table.

He’d been at this for the better part of an hour, starting off slow and only teasing you a little bit - before finally deciding to go all in on making you suffer from pleasure that you couldn’t do anything about.

“The one about movie night?” You could still hear Hyunjin’s response, albeit faintly. “Yeah, unless it was a different one- is she ok?”

You were approaching a level of sensitivity that wouldn’t bode well for anyone in the restaurant if you kept it up. Generally you could keep quiet if needed, but the sensations you felt were getting harder to handle.

And it only got worse when Minho kicked it up another notch.

You could hear the faint vibrations clearly from where you sat, but at this rate you didn’t even care anymore. Your legs started shaking and you only noticed when Minho placed a hand on your knee to keep you grounded.

You either needed to leave or you needed to cum; you really needed both, preferably the former before the latter.

You tried to disguise any noises that might slip out as coughs, turning your head to the side so you could look at the man currently holding the control device for your torture in his palm.

Tears had started to gather at the corners of your eyes from trying to hold back. When Minho looked at you, all you had to do was mouth ‘please’ before everything stopped, just like you knew it would.

Minho carded a hand through your hair while he waived down your waiter.

“Sorry guys, I think we’re gonna have to head out early.” He was looking into your eyes with mild concern, but also what you thought might be a sense of pride. Almost as if he was saying ‘you did good, I’m proud of you’ since you held out as long as you did.

“No worries,” you heard Jeongin say from across the table, “we’re almost done anyway. You guys be safe going home, ok?”

“Take care of her, too,” Jisung spoke up, still clearly worried about you. It almost made you feel bad about what was going on-

-until Minho spoke up in a tone of voice that only you knew too well.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take great care of her.”

He spoke with an edge to his tone, one that let you know he wasn’t done with you today, not by a long shot.

But, to everyone else, it seemed like a perfectly normal reaction for a concerned boyfriend to have.

Minho paid for your food before you said goodbye to everyone. You barely looked at your friends’ faces for fear that you might blush with guilt or possibly embarrassment.

All of those feelings were gone, however, when you both got in the car and Minho was leaning over the console to pull you in for a heated kiss.

“Fuck, you did so good for me.” He sounded breathless from the one kiss alone, but you knew it’s because he had to have been worked up for most of that time as well.

You moaned into the kiss, making him stutter in his movements. He placed a hand on the side of your neck to hold you in place, ravaging you like you were the best thing he’s ever tasted.

And, if anyone asked him, he might even say that you were.

“It was driving me crazy, seeing what that was doing to you,” he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, pupils blown wide as he looked you over.

“Made me want you so bad, baby,” he started kissing you again, this time trailing down your neck, causing you to let out small pants at the feeling.

“Minho,” you whined out his name, rubbing your legs together as you squirmed in your seat.

“Always want you,” he placed a kiss on the column of your throat, fingers now ghosting along your thigh. “But fuck, there’s something about seeing you so helpless for me-”

“Baby,” you whimpered, once more trying to get his attention. You were still sensitive, and the vibrator was still inside of you. But you were very aware that the both of you were in public, and the parking lot couldn’t do much to hide you in the daylight.

“Hm? What is it, love?” He leaned back to kiss the tip of your nose; such a sweet innocent, action, despite the way his eyes stared at you hungrily. “What do you need from me?”

His hand started inching higher, daring to toy with the edge of your skirt. You stopped him by placing a hand on his wrist, a signal he immediately obeyed.

“Not here,” you managed to choke out. You wanted him, god did you want him, but you’d rather continue this in the privacy of your shared apartment.

It wasn’t that the idea of being at Minho’s mercy in public didn’t excite you; quite the opposite, actually.

But with how desperate you were for him now, you didn’t want to hold back, and you knew your fear of someone seeing or hearing you would inhibit that somehow.

“Not here?” He repeated your statement with a questioning tone, making sure he heard you correctly so he could gauge what exactly you wanted.

That was another thing you so loved about your relationship. Minho may typically have more control when it came to intimacy, but he always, always made sure you were ok with everything before he proceeded.

You nodded, hand gently closing around his wrist. “Home. Please.”

He smiled. “Yeah? You wanna continue this at home?”

Another nod, before you were leaning forward to press your lips to his again. “Please. You can have me anyway you want me,” you whispered into the kiss, “and I can be as loud as you want.”

Minho grunted against you, squeezing your thigh once before he retreated back into his seat.

“Buckle up, baby.” He grinned at you as you situated yourself in your seat.

You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever gotten home faster.

The door to your apartment was barely shut before you were being pushed up against it. Minho had his hands on your waist, holding you against the door while he claimed your mouth in a filthy kiss that had your mind reeling.

You giggled when he pulled away slightly, not missing the smile that formed on his handsome face. “Someone seems eager.”

“I think I only broke 2 traffic laws heading home, no big deal.” His quip made you laugh as you locked your arms around his neck, preparing for what you knew was coming next.

Minho picked you up and wrapped your legs around him before he carried you through the apartment, mouthing at the now exposed skin of your shoulder since your shirt had shifted.

He laid you down on the bed without much preamble - as per usual when you both were ready to go - before he was hovering over you, one hand holding himself up while the other caressed your face. You leaned into his palm as you looked into his eyes, admiring how his blonde hair framed his face in such an angelic way.

Minho kissed you once more, slowly this time before building up the intensity. His hand travelled from your face to the side of your neck, resting there as he drummed his fingertips along your skin.

“Fuck, I want to take my time with you,” Minho groaned, applying the faintest amount of pressure where his fingers rested against your throat. “But seeing you so desperate for me earlier…”

His hand was gone within a second only to find another spot on you to tease, this time making its journey upward as he slid his hand under your skirt.

His fingers flitted across the outside of your panties, making you gasp at the contact against your still clothed clit. Minho smirked, full of that confidence that aroused you to no end.

“Can feel how wet you still are, even now. And I’ve barely touched you.” He started tracing his thumb around your most sensitive spot in agonizingly slow circles, drawing out whines from you before you could stop them from happening.

“Minho, please,” you tried begging. He’d already tortured you enough earlier – at least, you thought so.

“Please what? Hm?” He had started to push your panties to the side for better access but stopped as he waited on a response. “What can I do for you, love?”

There it was again, the petname you adored with every fiber of your being. If you focused on it too long it could distract you from your mission.

That mission currently being pushing your boyfriend just enough so he’d fuck you how you’d been wanting him to the entire day. And you knew just the way to do it.

“Make me cum,” was your simple response.

Minho arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Minho hummed, thumb now stroking the inside of your thigh, further from where you wanted him.

“Oh, I know I heard you. I was giving you a chance to change your answer.”

You pouted, feigning innocence. “But you asked me what you could do for me.”

“I did, but you know how this works, love.”

You met his challenging stare head on, adding your own smirk for good measure.

“Don’t think you can do it?” You pushed further, not missing the way Minho’s hand gripped tighter around your thigh. “Afraid of a little competition?”

Minho sputtered out a laugh. “Competition? What the fuck do you mean competition?”

You shrugged, delighted by the way he was absentmindedly caressing your thigh a bit rougher than before.

“You know no one can fuck you like I do,” Minho was bunching up the end of your skirt, ruffling the fabric as it inched higher up on your body. “No one even comes close.”

“You’re right.” You saw a smile start to form as you gave him the satisfaction of agreeing for just a moment before you went in for the kill.

“That vibrator sure was doing a much better job earlier than you are now, though.”

To your surprise, Minho’s smile widened wickedly as he chuckled. “Oh, you fucking brat.”

Before you had time to backpedal, he was yanking your panties down and you felt him prodding at your entrance.

“This vibrator?” He poked the end of the toy that was still inside of you, and even though it wasn’t turned on, it still had an effect. One that was heightened by your already being aroused in the first place and even more-so now with Minho being on the other end of it.

He pushed it in further, making you let out a gasp. “I asked you a question, love.” Another prod that left you squirming. “And I expect an answer.”

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered out.

Minho hummed as if he was lost in thought, focusing on the toy as he moved it around gently. “So this is what’s been causing you so much pleasure today, hm?”

You simply gulped instead of answering.

“Maybe I should just turn it on again and leave it inside of you, huh? Let it take care of you instead, is that what you want?”

You started shaking your head vigorously. “No, please-”

Your plea was cut off by the vibrator whirring back to life, this time at a higher setting than Minho had put it all day. You hadn’t even noticed him grab his phone to turn it back on, and it had you arching your back of the bed instantly.

“Minho-” you moaned out his name, unable to contain yourself any longer. With how worked up you’d been earlier, your previously denied orgasm was creeping up much faster than you’d hoped it would.

“That’s it,” he crooned softly, a drastic change from his previous demeanor. “Let me hear you.”

Your legs were trembling and all you could do was whine, gripping the sheets as the vibrator moved wildly inside of you against that spot that made you fall apart.

“Seeing you hold back earlier, fuck that really did something to me,” he continued, pulling your skirt up higher so the material pooled around your waist so he could get a better view of you. “Love seeing you like that and knowing it’s because of me.”

You weren’t capable of saying much at this rate outside of incoherent babbling, so all you could do was continue to lay there and take it.

“It is because of me, isn’t it?” He turned the vibrator up once more, to what you were sure was probably the highest setting. To make matters worse, he started rubbing your clit at a speed you weren’t expecting, nearly making you scream.

“Or is it all because of this thing?” He accentuated the last word with another thrust of the toy, and you had just enough of your wits about you to give him the answer you know he wanted.

“It’s you, it’s always you-” you managed to choke out. Your eyes were closed but the feeling of Minho sliding his hand up your shirt had you opening them once more.

“That’s better,” he murmured as his hand worked its way higher up your torso. When he reached the edge of your bra, he stopped for a moment.

“Hm,” he brought his other hand to the hem of your shirt, no longer pushing the toy into you. That didn’t do much to help with the way it moved furiously inside of you, but all of your attention was on your boyfriend now.

His other hand that had been roaming your skin now also tugged at the bottom of your shirt. “Think this might be in the way, love. What do you think?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling a chuckle from the blonde beauty still hovering over you.

“Sit up for me, baby. Think you can do that?”

You hesitated for a moment, only because you weren’t sure if your current predicament would allow you to follow his instructions. “I-I don’t know-”

“It was more of a rhetorical question,” Minho interrupted, “because I know you can do it. You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

The soft look in his eyes was enough for you to know that this was all your call, despite his aura of dominance he was giving off. If you truly didn’t think you could do it, you wouldn’t. But-

-you loved to please Minho, so you’d gladly give it a try.

You shifted into a sitting position, resting against the headboard.

And, as you expected, the shift caused the vibrator to hit a different spot inside of you, and it was one that nearly sent you over the edge.

“Oh my god-” you moaned out, lost in the feeling of Minho’s mouth against your neck, his hands pinning you down by your waist to keep you from squirming so much.

“Good girl, I knew you could do it.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before he started trailing down your chest, and every touch he was leaving on your skin left you feeling hot in the best possible way. “How’s it feel?”

Your back arched when you felt him graze his teeth against your nipple through the fabric of your bra. “Feels good, but-”

“But what?”

“I want more.”

Minho hummed like he was thinking it over. “I know you want more, but do you deserve more?”

While your brain buffered as you tried to think of an appropriate answer, he continued his journey down until his head was between your legs.

“I asked you a question, love. Answer me.”

He was mere inches away from where you wanted him, but you knew he wouldn’t move unless you spoke again.

“No.” Your breathing was coming out in small pants and the vibrator was as fast and ruthless as ever. How you hadn’t cum yet was beyond you, honestly.

“Hm?”

“No, I don’t deserve it,” you whined. “But please, Minho, do something.”

You chanced looking down just in time to see that devious smirk you adored, the one that you knew meant Minho had something in store for you.

“You know how hard it is to resist when you beg so nicely for me,” he started, giving your clit one quick lick that left you gasping. His fingers threatened to leave imprints with how hard he was holding onto your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.

“And as much as I love to hear it,” a slower lick this time, as he spread your legs wider.

“Right now I’d rather hear you scream.”

Minho’s wish was granted as he set a brutal pace from the jump, flicking his tongue against your clit in that way that you loved, the way that could have you cumming in minutes despite you holding back.

And with how tightly wound you’d been for hours now, you knew it would hit you soon and hit you hard.

This wasn’t something you’d tried before, having a toy inside of you while your boyfriend ate you out. But now that you had tried it, you’d be sure to ask Minho if you could do it more often in the future.

At least, you’d ask him when you weren’t currently screaming his name and fighting against the hold he had on you.

“Fuck, Minho,” you choked out. You received a groan in return, one that had you opening your eyes so you could look at the beautiful view in front of you.

Minho’s stare was fixed on you, intense and full of purpose. You reached a hand down to tug gently at his blonde strands, feeling some satisfaction at how it caused him to briefly falter in his movements.

When he got back on track, you couldn’t even form words anymore. All you could muster were moans that kept increasing in pitch, signaling that you were close. Usually you might even warn him, but you were too caught up in your own pleasure to consider it.

And just as you were about to tip over that edge-

-everything stopped.

Minho had pulled away, and it took you a second to realize the vibrator wasn’t on anymore either. Coming down from the high you’d been so close to experiencing was nearly enough to bring you to tears, just because of how close you got.

You looked down again at your boyfriend, positive that he could see your shock at his betrayal written all over your face. If he did, it didn’t faze him, seeing as he returned your stare with an adoring one of his own.

“Why,” you pouted, “I was so close-”

“I know, trust me. I know your body better than anyone else.”

“But why,” you tried again, thinking that maybe pouting might work this time.

Annnnd of course it didn’t.

Minho chuckled as he crawled back up the bed so he could kiss you, and you were able to taste yourself faintly on his tongue.

“You were a brat, baby, in case you don’t remember.” He caressed your cheek. “Did you think I’d just let that go?”

You huffed out a sigh. You absolutely knew he wouldn’t take that lying down, that was one of the biggest parts of your dynamic.

You would push him, and he would put you back in your place – all within your limits, of course.

So yeah, you knew this was a possible (and the most likely) result from your behavior earlier, but your mind had been clouded too much by the idea of finally being able to release all the tension that had been wound up inside of you.

And now you would do what you did best in these situations: backpedal.

“I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Minho’s palm drifted to where it rested against the side of your neck, eyes searching your own. “You’ll be sweet for me now?”

You nodded, immediately rewarded with that smirk you loved so much.

“Good girl. You wanna cum, yeah?”

Another nod, this one more eager than the last. Minho laughed as he stroked your hair.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. And since you were so good for me when we were out earlier,” he paused for a moment, eyeing your bra strap that had started to fall down your shoulder, “I’ll let you choose how you do it.”

This surprised you. Usually, you’d be getting fucked into the mattress by now, but he was letting you choose.

You wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Wanna ride you,” you murmured against his lips, waiting for a kiss. “Can I?”

You felt him smile as he connected his lips with yours, just how you wanted. “Always.”

In a flurry of movements, you and Minho worked to both shed the rest of your clothing, as well as the cursed vibrator. As you were about to take off your skirt, he stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to focus on his eyes but the sight of him now naked in front of you was proving to be a very big distraction, the biggest of which was right between his legs.

He was so hard – almost painfully so, it looked like – and you couldn’t wait to finally feel him inside of you-

“Leave it on.”

Minho’s demand and the tone of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts instantly. The intensity of his stare had you dripping with more arousal, and you could feel it sliding down your thighs.

“My skirt?”

“Yeah. Don’t take it off.”

Well, this was new.

“Why?”

“Because,” Minho answered as he tugged on your arm gently, “I wanna see you how you look in it when you ride me. Now c’mere.”

Minho let you get situated on his lap while you giggled a bit at his answer, curious about what came over him. He helped you line yourself up, ready to sink down onto him whenever you desired. You didn’t yet, despite how bad you wanted to, only because you wanted to tease him just a little longer.

What you weren’t expecting was for him to sit up more and wrap one of his arms around you, the tip of his dick just barely pushing past your folds.

“Also,” he breathed out, holding the back of your head so he could bring you down for a kiss. Right as your mouth was hovering over his, he finished talking.

“Because I fucking said so.”

In the same instant that he kissed you harder than he had the whole day, he shoved himself inside of you, making you stifle your moan against his lips.

You broke apart to catch your breath, and Minho instantly took advantage of this by wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples. Your hands entangled in his hair as you started setting your own pace, relishing in the way he grunted at your ministrations.

When you sped up, he pulled away from your breast with a pop, moaning at the feeling of you wrapped around him.

“Fuck, baby,” he leaned his head back, “just like that. Fucking love when you ride me like this.”

“Yeah?” You taunted him by clenching around him, enjoying how he was crumbling fast underneath you. “Want me to make it feel even better?”

Minho could usually keep up his façade of wanting to always be the one in control, but he could only do it so long when it came to you.

Right now, he was ready and more than willing to let you take control, let you have all of it. Especially if you kept riding him like this, he’d let you do whatever the fuck you wanted.

All he could do was nod in response to your question as he held you closer. But when you started to unwrap his arms from around you, he looked up at you confused.

“Lay back for me?”

You questioned him so sweetly, how could he ever say no? Maybe on a different day when he was feeling more like he wanted to wreck you he’d challenge you on that, but today he was feeling some kind of special way.

You had way more power over him than you ever realized, Minho figured.

He laid back, head resting on a pillow as he hands fell to your waist instead. Once he felt the fabric of your skirt underneath his fingers, he let out a groan.

He didn’t know what it was about you being partially clothed that was driving him crazy, but right now it made him feel fucking feral.

With the change in position, you had more leverage now to pick yourself up to where only the tip of his dick was still inside of you before you slammed back down again. You began to set a more ruthless pace than what you typically did, and the reaction was immediate.

Minho fisted the fabric around your waist and pulled on it to anchor himself, lost in how good you felt around him. The way it brushed against his thighs with your movement only heightened his arousal and his own high would approach much faster than either of you were used to if you weren’t careful.

“God, fuck, baby,” Minho moaned out. “Feels so good, been so hard for you all day. Kept thinking about fucking you senseless – shit – you don’t know what you do to me.”

Minho’s filthy words had you quivering on top of him, speeding up in the process but also somewhat losing your balance. With how your thighs were shaking you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to hold out.

As always, your ever-observant boyfriend noticed your change in movement, even while he was lost in his own pleasure.

“Lean forward for me, love.” He pulled on your skirt, urging you to move up. “I got you, let me help.”

You leaned forward to where your upper half was nearly laying on him, and at this angle you had the perfect opportunity to latch onto his neck – something you knew he loved just as much as you did.

Minho’s fists wound tighter around the fabric while he let out a loud moan, bucking up into you more now that you’d calmed your own hips in the new position. He was pulling so tight on your skirt that you felt it almost digging into your flesh around your hips, and it encouraged you to try harder for a little longer.

“Holy shit,” Minho was groaning at the sensation of you sucking on his neck. You were probably trying to mark him up, he realized, but right now he couldn’t give any less of a fuck.

“Always feel so fucking perfect around me, I love you, fuck.”

He kept mixing his praises with all the right words that he knew got you going, and with how frequently you were clenching around him now, he knew you had to be close like you were earlier.

“My perfect girl, love you so fucking much. Always take me so well, take whatever I give you, so wet and tight for me-”

Minho was getting lost in all the sensations he was feeling at the moment – the overwhelming pleasure you were giving him and the love he felt for you being the most prominent.

“Are you close,” you whimpered against his neck. You didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to hang on at this rate, teetering on the brink of your orgasm once more today.

On most occasions if you finished before him, you’d still let him fuck you until he was done as well, since it usually didn’t take long. Today, however, with how much you’d already endured, you weren’t quite sure you’d be able to.

But thankfully, you didn’t have to wait for long.

“Yes, fuck, I’m close. Gonna cum so fucking hard for you, baby.” Minho finally let go of your skirt to wrap his arms around you again. He increased the speed of his thrusts, leaving you with nothing to do but lay there and take it.

“First, I need you to cum around my cock like a good girl. You gonna do that for me?”

You nodded as you buried your head in his neck, ready to snap at any second. With one final push you’d be there-

“Go on, cum for me. Let me feel it, let me feel you.”

That was all you needed before you were cumming hard, nearly spasming in his hold while you whispered confirmations of your love for him against his skin. As sensitive as you were though, you kept going, determined to make your boyfriend feel just as good as you just had by his actions.

Minho was holding you securely in his arms so you couldn’t move much, but you were able to move your head enough to where you could give him a kiss. He was staring up at you with barely open eyes, brows furrowed in a beautiful way.

He tried to meet you halfway, but before your lips met, you whispered sweetly to him instead.

“Cum inside me, baby, I know you want to.”

Minho’s head fell back and dug even deeper into the pillow, eyes screwed shut as he moaned louder than you think you’d ever heard him before.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking cum, shit – I love you-”

You silenced him with a searing kiss, swallowing all the noises he made as you felt him release inside of you. He continued thrusting a few more times before he stilled, panting heavily once you pulled away from each other.

You rested your forehead against his while he calmed down, his eyes still closed but the prettiest smile stretched across his face.

The two of you remained unmoving until Minho started rubbing your back. You rested your head on his chest, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you how he also touched your skirt a few times as his hands moved up and down your back.

“So, the skirt was a good idea?”

You felt his chuckle more-so than heard it as it rumbled through his chest. “The best idea.”

“Never knew you were one to like fucking with clothes on.”

Minho shrugged. “Neither did I, but I guess seeing you in it awakened that part of me.”

“Love that for me.”

He laughed again, this time ruffling your hair as he did. “I love that for us.”

It was quiet for a few minutes after that, the two of you just enjoying each other’s presence. Minho was finally starting to soften inside of you, but neither of you were in a major hurry to move.

“I think that’s the best punishment for losing a bet that I’ve ever received,” you teased when you spoke again, snuggling closer to him.

Minho didn’t miss a beat.

“Bet I can change that.”

“Oh no, we are not doing this again.” You pretended like you were trying to get away while you squirmed in his arms, and he responded by merely strengthening his hold around you. “I need a recovery period of a few business days, at least.”

“Oh please, you’ll be begging me to fuck you again tomorrow, if not earlier than that.”

You hated how confident he sounded…but only because he was right. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it though.

“Yeah, well…that vibrator is going to be an occasional addition. I don’t think I can handle that as a common occurrence.”

Minho laughed and kissed the top of your head. “Noted.” He was silent for a moment more before he continued. “Hey.”

You looked up at him, feeling a warmth spread throughout your chest at the way he was staring at you like you were his whole world.

“I love you, you know that right?”

You grinned, nodding before he even finished his sentence. “I know. I love you, too – and more.”

Minho quirked an eyebrow before his smile widened. “You wanna bet on that, love?”

You reached up with no hesitation to place a gentle kiss on his lips, already knowing your answer.

“You’re on.”

thank you so much for reading!! <3

⇢✨m.list (18+)✨

[moralesmilesanhour]

Heyy, how ya doing? I wanted to make a platonic request with Miles and a black female reader who have been best friends since preschool, and usually they both don't argue but lately the reader has been going through some things and tries to go to Miles for advice or comfort but he's always so busy with being Spiderman. One day Miles gets upset and confused when the reader makes a negative comment towards him which leads to an argument and the reader asking him, "where were you when I needed you the most?!". What would they both do to make up after this?

This was definitely a new challenge to write as I'm not exactly accustomed to writing conflict. I had a lot of fun! (Or as much fun as you can have writing angst lol)

Out of habit, you pick up your phone and check the long line of texts left unanswered. Then three dots appear, and your stomach jumps.

“Wanna hang out at your place? I’ll bring pizza,” the text read. All you can hear is the thumping of your own heart, and you gnaw on your bottom lip while your fingers hover over the little keyboard.

yes | ok | sorry

“ok,”  you reply, opting for the reply that was easiest to reach.

Hardly ten minutes pass before you hear an elaborate rhythm being tapped out on your front door, and some part of you feels irritated that it only took ten minutes. Shaking the thought away before it can ruin your night, you get up to let Miles in.

“Hey!” you grin at your friend with tired eyes.

Miles throws back a “‘sup?”, as he preoccupies himself with hauling the two boxes of pizza he'd bought into the living room and setting them both on the table. 

He still has the damn suit on. Lazily hidden beneath a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, like he couldn’t be bothered to put the thing away for even a moment.

“You didn’t have to rush over here,” you comment in spite of yourself, taking a seat on the couch.

“So you wasn’t about to blow my phone up if I didn’t rush over here?” Miles teased.

Something ugly threatens to climb up your throat and leave your mouth, so you swallow to keep it down. It takes nearly all of your energy to keep it from clawing its way back up from your stomach. 

Too tired to come up with a clever quip, “Fair enough,” is all you can say, your expression unreadable.

Concern begins to color Miles’ features and the smile melts away, but he says nothing.

You ever-so-smoothly change the subject, “So, what’s new? You look tired.” 

He’s fucking Spider-Man, of course he’s tired.

“Not much,” Miles answers through a bite of pizza. “Same old shit: Green Goblin, robbery, shoot-out, repeat.”

“Must get annoying.”

“Yeah…” he trails off, without a single bit or pun.

“And you?”

“And me? What about my boring ass?” you attempted to joke. Judging by Miles’ raised eyebrow, it didn’t quite land. 

“I mean, how are those college apps going?”

You had gotten off the phone earlier from a screaming match with your mom because Spelman was too far away, and Princeton was too expensive, and applications were due in a matter of months.

To put it nicely.

“Good.”

“...just good?” 

Oh, now  he wanted to ask questions.

“Yup,” you replied snappily. 

That something clawed its way out of your stomach and lodged itself in your chest, making your breaths short and quick. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

 “It's going fine.”

Miles decides to press further, “You alright? You seem really off right now. If you wanna tell me anything–”

“What, so you can dip out the window while I’m talking, then leave my texts on read?” you scoffed. 

You’d let it escape you, and there was nothing you could do now to go back and wipe the hurt expression off of your friend’s face. So you let it sit there, right between the two of you on the couch while the uneaten pizza went cold.

“I can’t always answer you while I’m getting hurled off the fucking Empire State Building,” Miles retorted. 

“But you could swing your black ass over here in ten minutes for some pizza and vibes, right?”

“I’m trying to hang out with you when I can, Y/N!”

 You had both risen to stand in front of the couch.

“You only talk to me to HANG OUT, Miles, that’s the fucking problem!” you finally exploded. Hot tears stung your eyes.

“What even is the fucking problem?!?”

“Where were you when I needed you the most?!?”

Miles fell silent as your words hung in the air. He flopped back down onto the couch with a thud, no fight left in him. 

You didn’t know whether to keep standing or to sit, unable to look to Miles for an answer as a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek before you could catch it. You sniffled to stop the snot from dripping down your nose and embarrassing you further.

“Look, sit down,” Miles sighed. He said it like ‘siddown’, so you knew he was serious this time. He wrapped a long arm around your shoulder, and you let him pull you closer until there was no space left between the two of you. 

You sat in silence like that for a couple minutes. Miles’ thumb rubbed little circles into your arm, just like when you lost your first volleyball game back at Visions Academy. The captain had yelled at you before stalking out of the gymnasium, with the rest of the team full of lanky girls followed closely behind. You could only think about how they all towered over you, and were prettier than you thought you would ever be. Miles saw your lone figure sitting on the bench and immediately left his front-row seat in the bleachers. You heard his sneakers squeak across the floor as he bounded over to you to wrap you in a warm hug. 

“I’m sorry,” present-day Miles breaks the silence. You open your mouth to apologize as well, but sobs pour out of you instead, wracking your entire body. He waits until the sobs become labored breaths before he continues. 

“I…don’t really know how I’m supposed to do this.”

“‘This’?” you ask, after a final sniff.

“Being there. While being…” Miles gestures towards himself.

You want to give him an answer, a game plan. But for the first time in your life, you draw a blank. So you give him the next best thing:

“Answer me when I text once in a while,” You smile weakly and smack your friend’s arm.

Miles returns the smile and shakes his head.

“I’ll try.”

[quindolyn]

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone  of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

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[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[sparkbeast20]

Get me a picture of Solomon Shirtless

“The first person who can get me a picture of Solomon shirtless, I’m officially yours.”

The room fill with sound of spilt takes, things falling, and hand slamming on the table. All the brothers turn to you, some widen eyes and others mouths open.

Lucifer asks you why would want a picture of Solomon.

Your simple answer “I want to see his pact marks” you got up and walk out the room, leaving them with “I’m dead serious”

Lucifer

· Child’s play

· He calls Solomon over to discuss “human” topics

· They were in the library with books display about pacts and effects.

· He’ll asks Solomon about his pact marks.

· But Solomon natural self, asks Lucifer to make a pact with him.

· Lucifer refuse, and ask about a certain demon he “knows” if Solomon made a pact with that demon.

· His say yes, unbutton his uniform, and points on the pact mark.

· Lucifer quickly brought out his phone and took the picture.

· But Solomon hands were in the way.

· Darn, he wasn’t quick enough.

· Solomon tells Lucifer, he’ll let him take a picture, if he says please.

· I WILL KILL YOU.

· he wants this to be over so, he took a deep breath, gives Solomon a fake smile and said please, through his teeth.

· With that, Solomon opens his uniform and let Lucifer take one photo.

· Thanking Solomon, and walks away.

· He asks you to meet him in his study.

· You came, sat on the chair right in front of his desk while sat on the opposite side.

· He brought out an envelop with the picture, and slowly bringing closer to you, but quickly taking it back.

· His ask to you to only seeing it once, you nod and he gave it to you.

· You took it out of the envelop, take a long good look of it, then tearing it in front of him.

· Shock Lucifer was about to get up, when you place a hand above his

· squishing his hand tell him.

· “You won Lucifer, I’m all yours”

Mammon

· He will get that photo at all cause.

· A loud knock at the doors of Purgatory Hall.

· Poor Luke had to get up to answer the door.

· He opens it to see Mammon with a camera that he “borrowed” from Levi or Asmo.

· He asks where’s Solomon with an aggressive tone.

· Luke tells him to go home, but Mammon just repeats the question.

· Luke just wanting to go back to bed, he points Mammon to Solomon’s room.

· Solomon making potion, heard his door kick open, he turns to see Mammon in the middle of the door frame.

· “Mammon! What are doing here- “

· “Take off your shirt”

· “What!”

· “I need a picture of your pact marks”

· “NO!”

· Mammon ran toward Solomon, he quickly dodges the demon, he grabs a potion and throw it at Mammon.

· He got hit, but for whatever he powers through the effect of the potion. (Power of love, I guess.)

· AH! It hurts but I NEED THAT PHOTO

· And he starts throwing potion, this fight took why too long.

· Early in the morning, you heard a knock on your door, you got up and walk over there.

· You open to see a tired Mammon, half of his hair colored, his shirt and pants is complete mess.

· Before you could say anything, handed over the camera with Solomon picture display on the screen.

· He drags himself to your bed and complete collapse on it.

· You called to him, he looks up to you, you’re still looking at the photo, then you look at him, with the camera screen face him.

· With one press of a button, you deleted the photo right in front of him.

· Mammon jaw drop, but you sat next to him.

· Cupping his face, rubbing your thumb on his cheek you tell him.

· “Congratulation Great Mammon, I’m all yours”

Leviathan

· He didn’t believe it at first.

· But when he saw his brothers is thinking, especially Mammon, he knew this was for real.

· Then a light bulb lit up in his head, his face grows devious smile.

· He has a plan.

· He invited Solomon over to help him with something.

· He opens the door to Levi’s room to see, a green screen and four sets of cameras all facing the center of the room.

· Levi greets Solomon, and tells him that he needs someone to model for his 3D character his making.

· Solomon agrees, but Levi say that he has to be shirtless for first part.

· Solomon asks why.

· He answers because the character has to have a default look, so he can add outfit in the future.

· With that, Levi got the photos, and proud of himself for not making things awkward.

· But he didn’t expect for Solomon to stay and watch how to make a 3D model.

· Oh I didn’t think this through.

· After a couple of hours of faking doing 3D model in a computer, the results were horrible.

· Levi feeling embarrass, he hides his face on the desk with his arms covering his head.

· Solomon tells him to find a different hobby, and leaves.

· It was the middle of the night when you heard a knock on the door.

· You told them to come in.

· The door open to revel Levi exhausted and red on the face, he raises his hand with the picture of Solomon.

· You got up, walk over to Levi.

· The two of you walk to your bed and sat down, you took the photos.

· You stared in each photo, then tear it in to pieces.

· Levi was about to scream because of your action, when lean your head on his shoulder, nuzzling it.

· Then you when near his ear and whisper.

· “Lord of shadow, I’m all your”

Satan

· He got angry a little bit about the task.

· there’s has to have a reason.

· Being cautious he messages Solomon about this.

· A laughing emoji pop up, then a text “they’re that desperate”

· Rage did begin to describe how piss of Satan was.

· Solomon had the gall to call you desperate.

· Later the evening, Solomon was in the common room of Purgatory Hall.

· Still thinking about his text with Satan, when he notices the window is crack open.

· He walks over, he was about to close it, when a hand grabs his wrist.

· Solomon looks out the window to see Satan in his demon form, mouthing “TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT”.

· At breakfast, everyone was eating and planning, when suddenly Satan walks in with a smile on his face.

· He saw you eating your breakfast, he walks over place the picture of a scare shirtless Solomon next to your plate.

· You almost choke to see it.

· While everyone else is shock and disappointed that Satan manage to get the picture.

· You grab the picture off the table, took a long good look then tear it.

· Most of the brothers were shock, and Satan was about to break something, when you gesture him to come closer.

· He leans near you, then you whisper in his ear.

· “Thank you, Satan I’m all your”

Asmodeus

· That’s easy, Solomon wouldn’t say no to him, right?

· The next day, Asmo want to Purgatory Hall to get the pictures he needed.

· But when he asks where’s Solomon, Luke said that his hiding from him and his brother.

· Oh so, he wants to this game… well challenge accepted old friend.

· Asmo use all his socials give out a message.

· “If you spot Solomon, DM me his location”

· Within the hour, Asmo knows where Solomon is.

· But every time he gets close, Solomon manages to get away.

· After 20 attempts of catching Solomon, Asmo finally cornered him, but at a cause.

· Determine, tired and anger, a messes Asmo tells Solomon to give up.

· Knowing Asmo rage can rivel Satan, Solomon gave up.

· After taking the photo, Asmo asks Solomon why he was hiding.

· Solomon simple answer “I like a challenge”

· You were in the common room, when Asmo show up with the photos.

· He was is a mess when gave you the photos.

· After giving them a good stare, you rip up the photos.

· Asmo gasp, then quickly engulf in your embrace, and tell him.

· “I’m all yours, Asmo”

Beelzebub

· He’ll just ask him, what could go wrong.

· He just when over to Purgatory Hall to get the photo.

· When he saw Luke and Simeon speed walking away from their dorm.

· Are they going out somewhere?

· The door open, Solomon welcome Beel.

· I have a bad feeling.

· Once inside, Beel when straight to the point, and asks Solomon a picture of his pact marks.

· He would gladly accept, but he has to finish his dinner all on his own.

· Sweat drip down from Beel’s forehead, he knows where this is going.

· With one final breath, Beel tells Solomon that he’ll help him with his dinner.

· Solomon smile and asks Beel to follow him in to the dining hall.

· Dizzy, Beel awakes up from a food coma.

· He saw Solomon taking picture of himself in the mirror.

· He turns to greet Beel, and hand over his phone.

· However, Beel asks him one more thing.

· “Sure, what is it?”

· “Tell me all about your pact marks, while I write the down”

· You were at the kitchen making cupcakes, when Beel comes in.

· He gave you the photos and notes about the pacts.

· You folded the note and hide it in your pocket, but the photos you tear it up.

· Beel’s jaw drop, but you place a cupcake in it, and gave him hug.

· “You did so much Beel, I’m all yours.”

Belphegor

· He thought to himself “just a picture, hm easy”

· When luck comes his way, Belphie saw Solomon at their gate.

· Solomon was about to enter woods nearby, Belphie asks what he was doing here.

· He said that, he was get some ingredients for a potion his making.

· Belphie tells Solomon, he’ll help him in exchange he wants one photo of him showing his pact marks on his torso.

· Solomon agrees, and the two when into the woods.

· The first thing they need was salamander slim.

· However, those things are slippering every time Belphie grab on to it, the Salamander slide out of his hands.

· After 5 attempts, they manage to get the slim.

· Then a certain fur from a cougar fang.

· Belphie got scratch.

· Then finally 10 seven leafs clovers

· Fuck! those things are rare, are you insane.

· After hours of looking, they found ten clovers.

· Once they got out the woods, Belphie brought out his phone and gave to Solomon.

· “Deals a deal I don’t want to see you shirtless so, take them over there”

· You were in the music room listening to favorite songs, when Belphie walks in, phone in hand.

· He sat next to you and gave you his phone with the picture.

· You look at the picture, while you took of your earphone off.

· Belphie widen eyes when he saw you delete the photo.

· You hand over his phone back, with an angry look on his face grab hold on the phone, but you didn’t let go.

· Instead, you place your other hand over his, rubbing it, he looks back to you.

· You smile and grab his hand, and tell him.

· “Wonder work Belphie, I’m all yours”

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

Epilogue

You were leaning in bed with the winner, the room was peaceful and quiet, you turn over him seeing his calm and happy.

A moment of silent was break by a sound from your D.D.D, you grab it and got out of bed, you bend over to kiss him on top of his head, and told him that you were going to the bathroom, he sleepy nod, then you walk out.

You close the door of the bathroom, and see how texted you.

Solomon

That was really daring of you to ask them that.

I told you, I’ll get you back

But I didn’t expect him to that.

I always make things hard for your “champion”

You really did, but that not what a reply to you.

Oh! What is it

I want to thank you

Thank me for what, I gave him a hard time, well hard time for him.

Exactly, he when so far to get a picture of you Shirtless.

He was confused at first but I show him that I don’t need a picture of some else.

So, Thank you, Solomon I got a Boyfriend out of it.

[shoyosthighs]

1 Month Challenge

Hinata Shoyo X f!reader (SMUT 🔞)

Sum: A challenge came up by Hinata before he leave for a month of intensive volleyball training 🤭 (timeskip MSBY Hinata)

Warnings: +18 MDI, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral receiving (both ways), hard edging, dirty talk, daddy shoyo, 69, hard orgasm deny, creampie, basically really filthy smut

Word count: 2504 words

Author’s Note: Its been 8 years since I last written smut HAHA please spare me 😭 Im loving timeskip buff hinata currently and this plot is something similar I saw on p*rn so I decided to write it 🤭

________________________________

“Sho! Have you packed all your stuff?” You shouted from the kitchen from you and Hinata’s apartment. Preparing breakfast for him before he leaves for his intensive training in Brazil with the MSBY team in an hour.

“Yes baby” Hinata whispered in your ears from behind while snaking his arms to your waist and pressing you to his chest. “Can you pass me the soy-sauce, I made your favorite” you kiss him on the cheek while preparing his favorite Japanese rice with raw egg and soy-sauce.

“What did I do to deserve you baby” he wipe his fake tear smiling at you while passing you the soy-sauce.

“Baby girl, remember to take care of yourself okay? I will be back in a month. I know your college exams are coming soon but without me reminding you to eat you wouldn’t eat, so please remember to eat okay?” You nodded while pouting, didn’t really want him to leave.

“I will tell Yams to check up on you too” he side-eye you, knowing you will forget to take care of yourself once you indulge yourself into studying. “You’re so nagging haha” you pass him a cup of ice chocolate while ruffling his hair.

“Anyway baby, before I leave let’s come up with a challenge?” he asked while helping you wash the dishes and drying it. He pulled you to the couch and sat down while pulling you onto his lap, straddling him.

“What’s up your sleeve again?” You run your hands cupping his head from behind and play with his fluffy orange hair. “You see, I will be gone for a month and we won’t get to fuck” he said in a teasing voice. Knowing him, your high sex drive boyfriend for 2 years he will be having this dirty thoughts 24/7.

“And yeah what about it?” You rest your cheek on his chest and hug his waist instead. “Don’t touch yourself for a month, and when I come back I will breed you till morning” he smirk at you. “Hey not fair, what about you?” Knowing his horny ass he will probably run to the bathroom to finish himself off, “Both of us, it’s a challenge for both of us”

“I am up for it, but can you?” You tease him back. “You bet” he kiss you on the lips while carrying you into your shared bedroom, breeding you for the last time before he leaves for training.

It was already the 3rd week since Hinata has gone for his intensive training in Brazil, he had been sending you photos of himself shirtless almost everyday, but a prominent outline of his hard dick is seen on this jersey pants in every picture.

my ninja sho❤️: Im sooo horny baby🙁 i wanna ruin you so bad 😘

you: shoyo… HAHAHAHAA just how hard are you 🤣🤣🤣

my ninja sho❤️: Just you wait, 1 more week and you won’t be able to walk after im done with you 🙃

you: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Truth to be told, you was so close to touching yourself and relieving yourself, but you really wanted to see how long can you hold onto it. You busied yourself with studying, playing the new game you downloaded, eating lunch and having tea time with Yamaguchi in the cafe that you, Hinata, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima like to hang out in your free time. Yachi and Kageyama joined sometime too but Yachi has moved to Osaka for college and Kageyama was busy with travelling because of his volleyball career.

“So how are you coping without Shoyo?” Yamaguchi stop scrolling his phone, looked at you while sipping his frappe. “What do you mean?” You acted blur, you know what Yamaguchi was implying. But you didn’t want to remember anything of Hinata that will get you riled up.

“Oh come on, you two are the second horniest couple I have know. Well Tsukki and (tsukki’s gf name) being the first” he laughed since all of you had been friends since high school years.

“Not saying anything~~~~ don’t ask anymore before I tell your girlfriend you wanna get it” you smiled not hiding the intention of killing. “Jeez ok ok im kidding” he laughed while seeing his girlfriend of 4 years outside the cafe. You and Yamaguchi then meet her outside and walked home for a movie night.

Hinata had just landed into Japan, after getting into the van with the team he texted you to let you know that he will be home in 2 hours. You were eating dinner when your phone pinged, you replied him with a ‘Okie hurry up 😭’ you had missed him, 1 month without hugs from him was quite depressing for you, the house seems quiet without him singing loudly while showering.

You had brought a white crotchless underwear to surprise him, you quickly showered, change into an oversized white t-shirt and slip on the lewd panties. You turned on the tv while watching the 7pm show that you had been chasing since last week.

Time passed by quickly but you were getting sleepy, so you grab your blanket and wrap yourself on the couch snoozing off for a bit, thinking to have a 10 minutes nap before Hinata comes home. But your snooze was interrupted by Hinata’s loud “MY LITTLE BABY!!! YOUR FAVORITE ABS IS HOME!!!”

You jolted awake and rush to jump onto on Hinata, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Luckily your shirt was long to cover your ass because Hinata’s quick reflex supported them before you could fall. “I miss you so much baby” you whispered lightly while peppering kisses around his neck.

“I miss you so much too” he put you down on the floor and wrap his arms around your waist and kisses your forehead, nose and lips. After the small reunion, Hinata was in the shower and you were on the bed thinking about the steamy night that was about to happen. Just before Hinata went to shower he whispered “Prepare to be ruin by my cock tonight my little slut” this little cheeky tangerine, you thought as you clenched your pussy getting excited.

Hinata’s hands were running up and down your body as soon as he came out of the bathroom naked, “What? Im gonna fuck you anyway, why bother wearing clothes hehe” he chuckled when you glance at him in disbelief. He was kissing you slipping his tongue in to taste you while pulling off your t-shirt, he knew you didn’t wore any bra so he when straight at sucking your nipple while toying the other, his other hand going straight down south, wanting to feel how wet you are outside your panties but was caught by surprise when he touched skin.

“Do you like my surprise?” you said softly to his ear. He glanced up at you, “You are driving me crazy holyshit” he pushed you down onto your shared bed, brought both your legs up and spread your thighs wide to look at his surprise. “You are so fucking wet, you’re literally drenched” he move down collected some of your arousal and show it to you, “Sho, stop it. It’s embarrassing” you cover your face with both hand. Who knew not touching yourself and not cumming for 1 month made you this wet just by kissing your boyfriend.

“If you don’t move your hands away now, you won’t be getting any dick tonight” he said sternly. You were quick to remove your hand and he chuckled at how desperate you are. “You better not hold back your moans if you want to get fucked tonight you little slut” he turned your hip sideways, slip your panties off and slapped your ass, you moaned feeling yourself clenched again. “Do you hear me?” Hinata slapped your ass again when you didn’t answer, “Yes daddy” you whimpered, feeling extremely horny by how Hinata is treating you. Its really been awhile.

Hinata placed you back on your back and spread your legs again, hands holding onto the back of your thighs and diving into your drenched pussy, “Oh fuck daddy it feels so good” you clench your fist onto the bedsheets, back arching. You had been eating pineapple for the past 3weeks in prepare for today, “Why do you taste sweeter than usual baby? Did you had pineapple or what?” He lifted his head up to look at you, man the sight of him wet chin, wet lips full of your juice. You just nodded and clenched your pussy feeling the lost of touch, Hinata look down and the sight of your cunt clenched while juices dripping down made him want to just take you right here right now, but he steadied himself and dive back down to your pussy slipping his tongue into your tight pussy, tasting everything you have to offer.

Not even a minute had pass but you were writhing under Hinata, “Im gonna cum daddy” you whimpered, arching your back and grinding your hips into Hinata’s face desperate for the first orgasm after a month. You almost screamed when Hinata lift his face off your wet aching pussy, “Tonight you are gonna cum on my cock and only my cock” you whimpered a small yes daddy, panicking a little. When Hinata is serious he won’t hesitate to deny you orgasm and you wouldn’t want that.

“Now come and suck daddy off before I fuck your brains out” he lay next to you and you didn’t hesitate to take his already hard cock around your hand slipping the head to your parted lips, Hinata glances sideways to see you still dripping from your pussy, he tapped your ass and you turn back to look at him, lips still on his cock. “Sit on my face” knowing he loves 69 you quickly lift one of your legs and drape it over his head. Shifting your drenched slick infront of his face you move your mouth down to take Hinata’s warm cock into your mouth, “Oh fuck, your mouth feel so good” at this point Hinata wants to see how long he and you could stand denying orgasms before snapping.

You were a hot mess above Hinata, he had denied your orgasm 5 times while you had denied him 3 because you took slower stroke to work him up. Your pussy is literally drenched and sticky, you really couldn’t take it anymore its starting to hurt and you really need to cum, “Daddy please fuck me I need your cock” you turned behind and look at him. “My favorite” he lift himself up and you got on all fours facing the headboard, back arched with your cheeks squish onto the pillow. “Please daddy i am so wet for you, I had been a good girl, I want your cock please”

Hinata thinking he too couldn’t hold it back anymore line up his cock up your pussy lips rubbing up and down to tease you for a bit, he chuckled when you whimpered another please daddy and slip in all the way. You were so tight despite how wet you was prior to the foreplay and its driving Hinata crazy by how warm and wet you felt. “Holyshit baby you are so tight and warm”

You couldn’t think straight, all you could think was if Hinata were to move a few times you will cum soon. He slowly slip out dragging his thick cock veins around your walls and then slamming it back, “Fuck daddy im gonna cum” he continue to slam his cock into your pussy and then pull out completely and look down at your pussy, you were literally sobbing by now you clenched onto nothing and grind your hips wanting Hinata to just fuck your brains out.

You subconsciously slip your finger between your legs to relieve some tension on your pussy but Hinata hold your fingers by your folds, using his hand he guide it and circle it on your hole, you whimpered at how drenched you were, “Look at you wet and horny for me, since you’re being such a good girl daddy won’t hold back anymore okay” He line his rock hard cock back on your pussy and slip in, “I want you to cum hard on my cock okay” he leaned down and you nodded, preparing for his brutal thrust. At his 5th thrust your pussy had clamp down his cock and had you squirting all over your leg, you didn’t had the chance to tell him you were coming, Hinata had to pull out and watch you squirt all over the bedsheet and thinking how fucking hot you were currently.

“Look at you, so desperate to cum that you squirted all over our bed. What a little slut” he was gripping your ass and had continued his fucking your brains out. Your pussy is clenching onto him for the 4th time cumming hard on his dick and he had emptied 3 load of cum into your womb by then, holding you down while shooting his load into you. He weren’t kidding when he say he wanted to breed you.

Your lower half was sore by midnight, Hinata was now lying down with you on top of him grinding and whimpering at how hard he still is, both of your cum making your lower body full of white stains. “Sho- I-I can’t-t im gonna cum again” you grind harder onto his cock while throwing your head back, “Me too baby” he thrust up and hold your hips making you fall to his chest taking in the loud skin slapping and wet squelching sound you both produced, “Shoyo omg please please please harder im so close” he feel your walls clenching hard on him again and you cum hard onto his cock again for the nth time tonight while he shoot his almost nonexistent cum into you again, he really unloaded everything with nothing left. Soft moans filled the room as you lift yourself off his finally limped dick and plopped yourself beside him catching your breath.

“Stay here while i prepare the bath for you okay” you gave him a tired smile and close your eyes for a bit still feeling your body hot from the activity. Hinata came back and gave you a kiss on your sweaty forehead and carried you bridal style to the bathtub filled with warm water with your favorite bath bomb scent.

(EXTRAS)

Hinata was at the MSBY locker room the next afternoon for their short meeting/training regarding an upcoming match. He was shirtless was trying to put on his training jersey when Atsumu gasped, “HOLYSHIT SHOYO WHAT HAPPEN TO YOUR BACK?” All he could do was smile sheepishly and said “My little cat scratch me”

You weren’t spare either, you had to call Yamaguchi telling him you were sick the next morning because of how sore you were and you were literally limping even going to the bathroom. And had to cover the hickeys around your neck before going to school.

(A/N:It’s literally almost 4am here and Im also drenched after writing this fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY 😭😭😭 reblog and comments welcomed ❤️)

[dollslayer]

Charity Case

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU, enemies to lovers

Summary: You loathe Bucky Barnes and his cocky attitude but you find yourself doing him a favor. Is he really as insufferable as he seems?

W/C: 3,830

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, uhhh kissing, that's it!

A/N: Here it is! My entry for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k challenge!! My quote was "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?" (in bold). I love the Heathers so I'm excited!! Hopefully I did this prompt justice. As always, if you liked it please reblog/comment! Cheers! I do not consent to my work being reposted/translated on any platform.

Main Masterlist

____

Steve was running late again. You try not to chew your nails off in frustration but he’s definitely testing you. This is the third time in the last two weeks that he’s late to meet you. When he hasn’t been late he’s cancelled all together. Always with a half-ass apology of ‘Bucky needs me’. As if.

You’ve been friends with Steve since your freshman year creative writing class when the only open seat was next to him. Ever since that first day you two had been close. But not as close as him and Bucky. Childhood friends attending university together, thicker than thieves.

You always felt like Bucky was maybe a little jealous of the friendship you and Steve have. Maybe you’re a little jealous too but you’re almost positive Bucky is more jealous of you than you are of him but that’s beside the point. On top of his jealousy Bucky was just annoying. He had a girlfriend but he was always flirting with every girl he met, yourself included. Not to mention he was cocky as all hell.

Steve vouches for his character, swears that it’s all an act and he’s actually very sensitive underneath but you don’t buy it for a second. If you were his girlfriend you’d have dumped him a long time ago.

You don’t have time to dwell on your annoyance too much because Steve is rushing through the doors of the coffee shop. He looks around for you and when he finally finds you the look on his face is relieved. As he gets closer it’s clear that he’d been running to get to you in time. He’s sweaty and a little out of breath and if you weren’t so annoyed with him you’d have found it endearing that he ran here.

“There you are,” he huffs out, “I’m so sorry, I was with Bucky and I lost track of time.”

You purse your lips and hand him a napkin which he takes with a gracious nod before wiping the sweat from his brow. You hand him the iced coffee you’d ordered for him too. The ice is slightly melted from sitting there but he looks so refreshed to be drinking it.

“Figures” is all you say with a huff. If he hadn’t been doing it so often you would’ve been a little kinder about it but you were just irked.

“Seriously, I’m sorry. Nat just dumped him, he's been having a hard time” Steve explained.

“Is it because he flirts with anything that moves?” You scoff.

Steve scoffs in return “He does not! He’s just… outgoing. But no, they had their own problems.” You raise one eyebrow at him. “Okay the flirting had something to do with it but there’s a lot going on there.”

“Whatever, let’s just study for this exam while we can”.

____

You and Steve spent the next two hours cramming for your midterm together. Things were going well and you’d nearly forgotten that you were mad at Steve in the first place. Nearly.

You were so deep into your notecards that you didn’t hear the door open behind you. A voice that could grate on only your nerves. A voice that if it didn’t belong to such a bastard, might even be kinda sexy. The voice breaks your focus completely when it calls out.

“Hey, Steve, are you done already or what? Oh hey, what’s up, beautiful?”

You set your notecards down on the table maybe a little harder than you should. You shoot Steve a glare because you thought it would just be the two of you. Really? You cut in before Steve can answer his friend.

“No, Bucky, he’s not. Can we help you?”

He smirks, giving you his full attention. He knows he has you now, knows you took the bait and he’s goaded you to the point of backtalk. He pulls up a chair to the table and wedges himself tightly between you and Steve. The sound of the chair legs scraping the floor as he scoots closer to you rings in your ears and makes you cringe. You look at Steve again only to find him avoiding your gaze.

“Well, sweetheart, me and Stevie boy here have plans later. Gonna do some gaming and order a pizza, really embracing the bachelor lifestyle.” He raised his eyebrows at this and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I heard Nat dumped your ass, actually, is that true?” You asked with a fake sweetness.

“Why, you interested?” He rebuffed.

You bristled at his quick response and muttered your annoyance under your breath. You chose not to respond. Instead you decided to address Steve.

“Steve, I didn’t realize that you had plans”

“Oh… yeah, loose plans…” He answered distractedly while pretending to be reading a text on his phone.

You decide to call it a day. You were getting seriously fed up with Steve’s passive behavior in all of this. Thankfully you didn’t have much to pack up, so once you slung your backpack over your shoulder you looked up at the pair to bid them goodnight.

“Well, Steve, this was… enlightening. Bucky, eat it. Goodnight fellas, have fun with your ‘bachelor lifestyle’” You said with air quotes. Turning on your heel you left before either could respond.

____

You had left the coffee shop that evening pretty upset with Steve. Of course it’s fine for him to have other friends but lately it was like he only cared about Bucky and all of your plans took a backseat to theirs. You decided you weren’t going to be the one to text Steve first, since he was being a bad friend. He could be the one to initiate plans.

He did just that when he caught you in the hallway after your midterm a week later. He jogged up to you once again and tugged on your sleeve to get you to stop.

“Hey, how do you think you did? Bet those notecards paid off, right?” He half-joked. He looked sheepish. Nervous almost. You figured it was because of what happened last time you met.

“Yeah, Jesus Christ! I’ve never been so grateful for little pieces of paper.” You scoffed. You decided to keep it light between you. You were still upset with him but his tone leads you to believe he was gonna apologize.

“Right?” He laughs nervously, “So listen, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk lately… Maybe we could get something to eat at Nick’s?”

Nick’s was the local greasy spoon on campus and they had the best breakfast food you’d ever had. You eyed him suspiciously but accepted.

“Alright, but you’re buying. And there better not be any visitors!” You add as you bound down the hall ahead of him. He knows you mean Bucky and he’s not worried because Bucky won’t be showing up today. He’s more nervous about what he has to ask you.

____

You’re sipping on pop as you play with your straw wrapper. You look up at Steve and notice he’s fidgeting a lot more than usual.

“What’s up? Why are you so twitchy?” You question him.

“Me? I’m not twitchy! I was just thinking that’s all” He quickly defends himself.

“Well that was the last midterm of the semester for both of us, I think it’s safe to say you can relax.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Steve concedes quietly.

You and Steve eat in near silence, neither of you mind though because it’s comfortable. You worked on your hashbrowns when you looked up and noticed that Steve had barely touched his food. He was still fidgety, he looked nervous.

“Hey, you’ve hardly eaten anything, what’s the matter?”

He looks a little embarrassed, like he’s been caught. Or like he’s about to come clean about something.

“Look, I wanted to say sorry I know I haven’t been the best friend lately with everything going on with Bucky. He really is having a hard time since the breakup y’know… he’s lonely”

“Right” You laughed, “I’m sure he’s soo lonely.” You rolled your eyes and picked up your fork.

“No really, he just needed a friend to be there. I think he does need to get back out there though.”

“With how smooth he thinks he is, I'm sure he’ll have a date by the end of the night. I wouldn’t worry about it, Stevie.” You responded.

“I’m serious! As much of a player as he comes off he needs to be with someone he already knows. He’s actually really sensitive.” You interrupted with another laugh. There were many choice words you’d use to describe Bucky Barnes but ‘sensitive’ is not one of them.

“But anyway, I was...kinda hoping you’d do me a favor…” Steve trails off.

Based on the conversation you just had you’re cautious. You eye him warily but motion for him to continue.

“Well, like I said Buck’s having a hard time and he needs to get back out there but he doesn’t feel comfortable hooking up with a stranger. I was thinking maybe.. You guys should hang out?”

Steve refused to look at you as he finished the question. The look on your face was a look of confusion and shock.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” you asked in disbelief. “I mean seriously, I’m nice but not that nice.”

“Look-”

“No!” You cut him off, “You know I can’t stand that prick. Also why would I want to put myself on the long list of women he’s probably tried to fuck? I don’t buy this whole ‘sensitive’ thing for a minute.”

“I’m serious, Nat kinda crushed his heart when she left. He acts cocky but it’s a front. I just think he needs to see someone to get it out of his system. You’ve got more in common than you think. Just hang out with him once. Don’t think of it like a date, just a really really big favor. Please?” Steve begged.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “You. Owe. Me. So. Much”

“Really?” He asked hopefully.

“Really. But I’m not gonna bang him. Hard no on that” you said.

“Yeah, yeah of course! No problem! I’ll give Bucky your number!” He reached across the table and grabbed your hand. His hands were kidna clammy but you let him.

“Seriously, thank you. I know you think he’s some jerk but I promise he’s a good guy.” Steve adds, “A-and don’t think of it as like a date, even, y'know? I think honestly he could just use another friend. Think of how good it could be if we could all hang together some time?”

You shook your head and chuckled at his optimism while you stabbed another bite of your meal.

____

‘What’s up, sweetface?’ Gross.

‘Okay, sorry. Hi, how are you?’ Better.

‘I’m alright, you?’

‘Good. Steve tells me you’re a huge trivia nerd. Wanna go to Sally’s tn?’

‘It’s a date’ Shit. Didn’t mean to say that. Fuck. Quick- say something that will deflect before he responds!

‘And since it’s a date you’re paying’ That’ll have to do.

‘Ugh fine. Here’s hoping you’re a cheap date at least. I’ll meet you there at 9’

____

What do you wear for a date with someone that you despise? It’s just bar trivia so it’s nothing special but somehow the jeans and flannel you’ve been wearing all day don’t feel like they make the cut. You rip your closet apart trying to find something before you settle on black skinny jeans and your favorite sweater with some boots. Casual but not too casual.

You spend the whole walk there dreading the night ahead of you. Knowing that you wouldn’t even have Steve as a buffer between you made the whole evening seem daunting. At least you had trivia to distract you. You decide to give Bucky the benefit of the doubt tonight for Steve’s sake. You try to remember Steve’s insistence that Bucky’s a good guy and you have a lot in common. We’ll see about that.

When you arrive at the bar you find Bucky already waiting for you at a high-top table with two PBRs and a shot of brown liquid. Please don’t let that be whiskey. He sees you coming and smiles that damn-his-good-looks smile at you while patting the open chair next to him. The closer you get you even see that he got the whiteboard already for trivia.

“Please tell me that’s not Jameson or Fireball” you greet him.

He laughs a little and shakes his head. “Better - it’s Jack. Sorry, doll, but I already opened the tab. This is what we’re drinking” He nudges one of the shots closer to you and motions for you to pick it up. “Come on, we gotta start the night off right, bottoms up!”

Before you can gag at the thought of drinking whiskey you grab the glass and face him. You both knock your shots on the table before clinking them together and swallowing them in one go. You grimace at the taste and feel the warmth flow all the way down your throat. You quickly take a sip of your beer to rid yourself of the taste.

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re grossed out.” Bucky coos at you.

You’re embarrassed and annoyed but it goes away quickly.

“Shut up, Barnes”

You give him a light shove and he pretends like he’s about to fall off his stool, making you laugh. For someone that’s only ever annoyed you he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of being likeable when it’s just the two of you.

“You ready for me to carry you through some trivia?” You joked.

“Hey, now! I know...stuff” he concluded.

“Mmhmmm, I’m sure you do. Don’t worry, I’ll answer the questions and you just sit there and look pretty” you reach over to pat his face lightly with a wink.

Bucky grumbles before taking another sip of his beer.

You settle in for a long night when the host announces the first round is starting.

____

You managed to steal the first round without breaking a sweat, second round was a little rocky until it came down to you and one other couple. You knew the third round would be tricky but the way Bucky was cheering you on you were determined. To no one’s surprise Bucky had been completely useless so far but to his credit he was trying. At least he was a supportive teammate.

Things were going well until the third round was announced: Old School Videogames. You didn’t know shit about old school videogames. Or regular videogames. The extent of your video game knowledge started and ended with Mario Kart.

When the third round was announced though Bucky hit the table in excitement and cheered.

“Woo! Fuck yeah!” He pats you on the shoulder, “I got this, don’t worry. I so fuckin’ got this!”

He was a few drinks deep but he was so confident and he was your only hope so you went with it. He looked like a little kid the way he was practically giddy.

“You had better! There’s some serious prize money riding on this round.” You said in warning.

“No, no. You don’t understand that I’ve GOT this. Your turn to look pretty, not that it’s gonna be all that hard for you, sweetface” Bucky grinned at you over his beer as he took another sip.

Your cheeks felt heated and you tried your best to hide it by taking another drink yourself. Bucky’s flirting has never worked until now. Must be the alcohol.

“Shut up, Barnes” you mumble.

“Y’keep saying that but what I really think you mean is ‘I love you, Bucky you’re so strong and handsome~’” He imitated in a high pitched feminine voice.

You shoved him for real and before you could say anything else the third round was starting.

____

Bucky wasn’t kidding when he said he had this. He had won the round in a clean sweep and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed. Who knew this man harbored so much videogame trivia? When the host handed you the prize money he just waggled his eyebrows as if to say See?

“I gotta hand it to you, Barnes, I had no idea you had that much videgame wisdom rolling around up there. The only videogame I ever play is Mariokart so I’d be toast without you.”

“Mariokart? That’s it?? No problem, doll. It was nice to contribute.” He chuckles at that.

You divvied the money up and handed him his half.

“Guess I’m not such a cheap date afterall, huh?”

He chuckled as he took his half from you.

“I’m gonna go pay the tab with our winnings, I’ll be back”

You picked up your phone while you waited for him to find some missed texts from Steve.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Are you guys doing okay?’ ‘I haven’t heard anything so I’m assuming you haven’t killed each other. Have fun, text if you need a ride home.’

You almost rolled your eyes at Steve’s insistence but found yourself smiling instead. You’d text him back when you got home.

Bucky was walking up to you once more and you smiled at him slightly.

“You said you’re good at Mariokart?”

“I didn’t say I was good at Mariokart, I said that I played it. Why?”

“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could go back to mine and I could whoop your butt”

You weren’t going to say yes but now he was goading you and you took the bait without hesitation.

“Oh, you’re on, Barnes. You’re so, so on.”

His smile grew wider when he heard your response. With that he placed his hand on your lower back and ushered you out of the bar.

____

You played two tournament cups worth of Mariokart and Bucky had indeed whooped your butt. You don’t know why you were surprised, with how much gaming he and Steve do it’s no surprise he’s a natural. You still had fun though. Just when you were about to propose a third round Bucky got up and headed to the kitchen without a word.

He came back with two glasses of water and handed you one. He sat down on the floor next to you and you set down your controller.

“Here, drink up.”

You were taken aback a bit by the kind gesture but accepted the glass just the same.

“Thank you, I might regret saying this but, you’re not so bad when you’re not being insufferable, Barnes”. You told him

He smiled and shook his head as he drank his water.

“Thanks, I guess”

“How come you can’t be like this all the time? When it’s just the two of us you’re so kind and you’re even… I don’t know, funny maybe. Why do you get all cocky whenever else I see you?”

He looked down into his glass at your comment and you watched his brows crease in thought.

“I don’t know, it just sort of… happens, whenever I’m around other people I don’t know that well. I don’t mean to be a dick or anything but it’s like I can’t help myself. People expect me to be a certain way and I can’t help but fall into it sometimes. Nat hated that about me, it’s part of the reason why she dumped me, actually”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that. And I’m sorry about the breakup, too. I know you guys were together for a while.” Bucky only shrugged at this and downed the rest of his water.

“It is what it is. I’m ready to be over it, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I gotta say, you’re not so bad either when you’re not getting all defensive and in my face. You’re actually pretty funny”

Your turn to become flustered at a personal analysis.

“Thanks, I guess I don’t mean to be so defensive either, it's just my response to most other people. I feel myself slip into it and it can’t be helped.” You explained.

Bucky nods at you, not knowing entirely what to say in response.

“I like spending time with you” He says leaning closer to you.

You swallow thickly, not sure what to make of what you feel knowing his face is so close to yours.

“I… like spending time with you too. You’re not what I thought.”

“Me neither,” he shakes his head, “You’re something else.”

With that he leans his head closer to yours and you feel yourself close your eyes and move your lips to slant perfectly into his. You’re kissing Bucky Barnes. The Bucky Barnes you can’t stand. That Bucky Barnes. You’ve decided that his tongue feels too good in your mouth to care now.

His hands come to frame your face and bring you in closer. His hands are warm and calloused but they feel like comfort. You can’t help but to melt. You moan into his mouth and it seems to spur him on. He pulls you into his lap and you let out a noise of surprise that’s muffled by his mouth on yours.

Your hands come to caress his sides and you take your time feeling every muscle and ridge. Your hands idly make their way under the hem of his shirt and his skin is just as smooth as you’d expect. He sighs into your mouth and it takes all of your strength not to fall apart right there. You feel yourself getting lightheaded and have to pull away for air. When you do you rest your forehead against his and the only sound is both of your breathing.

You finally brave a look at him and he has the softest smile on his lips.

“Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to get so carried away but I’ve been waiting for a long time to do that.”

This catches you off guard.

“You have? Wait, did you like me? But you flirt with everyone!” You explain.

“With you, I flirt with you. You just can’t stand me” he laughs out, “Nat dumped me for a couple reasons but that’s one of them she told me I needed to get my priorities straight and I gotta say, I’m thankin’ her for sayin’ it ‘cause she was right.”

You don’t know what to say or what to make of any of this. All you know is that you want to kiss him again, so you do. You grab him by the collar and pull him into you again. He lets out a startled noise but kisses you back all the same.

You don’t care what you used to think of Bucky Barnes and you don’t care about what’ll happen after today. Right now all you care about is feeling him in sync with you for the first time. You could live in this moment forever but right now will have to do.

[vibraniumwing]

only girl in the world.

a sam wilson x fem!reader wherein the reader cleans the apartment due to jealousy.

WARNING: NSFW (18+, minors DNI. ), praise kink, oral stimulation (f receiving), fingering, vaginal penetration (wrap it before you tap it lovelies), light choking, swearing, the setting is set somewhere in between AoU and CACW so like around the time in Ant-Man ?? also slight au ( i think )

A/N: so this is for @anchoeritic's 3k writing challenge! seeing that she’s a fellow sam wilson simp, i chose him for this fic (and we are seriously lacking in sam wilson content i hate this) and because it’s sam’s birthday we’re gonna celebrate >:)))) icb he’s an aries though. uGh

prompt/scenario: character A catching character B singing

word count: 3.7k

---

Dating a superhero meant there was a lot of restrictions; cuddles and movie dates with them are fleeting moments since you never know when they would get a call about a grape-headed alien terrorizing the planet and you couldn’t flaunt them as much as you wanted to because your safety would be greatly affected if their arch nemesis finds out about your existence.

But regardless of it all, you were thankful because Sam never made you feel less of what you really are to him. A lot of your friends who know about your relationship with The Falcon were envious about how mature the both of you are, managing to balance both of your work lives and your personal ones at home; none of them really knowing how immature the both of you are behind closed doors.

Making this another reason why you loved the privacy being hidden from the public eye; you felt like you were in your own coming-of-age, rom-com movie with Sam with all the hidden rendezvous at The Washington Mall at midnight and drive around the empty streets of the city just until the crack of dawn or just stay at home and cook countless of meals, teaching each other recipes from both sides of your families

It was the relationship anyone could have ever dreamed of.

---

“You’re not making this any easier for me, baby girl.” Sam said, sighing inwardly as he stuffed his duffel. He was going over to New York for a few days, probably on another mission with the Avengers (or training with them) and you weren’t having any of it; wanting nothing more than to have him home and with you for a few more days一 possibly forever if that was even possible.

You groaned softly at his response, sitting on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest as you watch him ready his things for yet another mission. “Then don’t go” You simply told him, face holding the same sad expression as your lower lip was jutted out in a small pout as you looked away, not waiting to tear up once again; him leaving for missions was always the hardest.

A chuckle left his lips, setting the suitcase down on the carpeted floor of your shared room before claiming his spot next to you; the dip of the bed from his weight caused you to look at him. “You know I wouldn’t dare to leave if I had the chance to, right?” He asked, his scooting closer to you and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “But I always come back, right? Because you’re my home.”

You relaxed under his touch, stretching your legs unto the bed and wrapped your arms around his muscular frame, hugging him close to you in fear that he might disappear all of a sudden. “I know, but do you really have to go?” You murmur, hiding your face against his neck, the way your breath falls on his skin causes goosebumps to rise on his own.

“I have to, they need me, sweets.” He explains, wrapping his arms around your own frame and squeezes gently, enough to convey that he’ll be fine; that he’ll be safe and unharmed after all of the fighting he has due.

“I’ll be back in no time.” His reassurance made you sigh inwardly, knowing that you can’t convince him otherwise. Sam was always just like that, once something is set on his mind on something, he won’t stop until he gets it done. He rarely second guesses what he wants and he does, you’re the person he talks to.

You didn’t speak anymore, opting to let the warmth from his body consume you and lull you into sleep, his hand tracing small shapes into your back as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep, baby. I love you.”

---

The sunlight that peeked in through the sheer fabric of the curtains was enough to wake you up, reaching over to Sam’s side, expecting to feel him there but instead you were greeted with the sound of paper crumpling from the side of your hand. Stirring awake, you sat up and grabbed the note that was folded neatly.

“I’ll be back soon, baby girl. Don’t miss me too much, I love you.” You read outloud, adoring how neat his handwriting was, hugging the paper to your chest before whispering, “I love you too” before placing the note by your bedside table, rolling out of bed to get on with your day when your phone dinged. Looking at the lit up screen, you smiled at the message from Sam.

[ from: birdman lover ]

- It hasn’t even been a day and I already miss you.

- This’ll be a long week.

- Have a great day though.

- I love you.

---

- Steve’s still clueless on how phones work but he’s getting there. He “greets you a hello”.

The rest of the week was your normal routine, aside from the occasional texts and calls you would get from Sam whenever he had the chance to check his phone; telling you how much he missed you and sharing stories of what’s going on inside the compound. It was like he never left, the only difference being he wasn’t physically there to give you the affection.

Saturday morning soon rolled around and you were bouncing off the walls excited that you had to wait just one more day before Sam could come back home; come back to you. You practically bounced off the walls as you did all your errands一 mainly you getting your car cleaned and your weekly Target run一 and your day was all rainbows and sunshines.

Until it wasn’t. You were scrolling through your Instagram when you saw a picture that made your blood boil immensely. It was a photo of an actress (who was extremely good looking) in the arms of The Falcon. You had to take a few moments in to fully register the fact that the woman had managed to snag a photo with him, “He’s even hotter in person.” You read the caption out loud, eyes rolling in irritation, even replying to some comments from her fanbase, making it seem like they were dating.

You rarely get jealous about anything with Sam, being so secure with your relationship with him but seeing someone who has a platform freely post him made you writhe in your seat about how you should be the one flexing him like that, not her or anyone else.

You opted to call your lover to tell him how you feel but there was this side of you that didn’t want to go through a whole discourse with him through the phone so you went with the better option, cleaning the fuck out of your apartment until your agression washes away.

Plugging your phone to the sound system, you started off with Rihanna’s Only Girl in the World before grabbing the broom from the small closet in your apartment's kitchen, starting to sweep the floor. “You’re a bad bitch, Y/N. Now go clean,” You hyped yourself up in the mirror before strutting back to the living room to sweep your emotions away.

Unbeknownst to you however was the fact that Sam was well on his way home. He got to go back home earlier than expected and he didn’t tell you, wanting to give you a surprise. Jogging up the stairs of your apartment complex, he was practically rushing to make it your door so he can finally kiss you.

Finally finding the keys to your shared apartment, he opened the door and slowly creeped in, expecting to see you seated on the couch but what he saw was something else. He was stunned beyond words to see you clad nothing but his shirt and a messy bun while holding a broom, singing your heart out.

“Want you to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world” you sang out loud, holding onto the broom as if it was a mic while you danced, awkwardly body rolling to the beat. “Like I’m the only one that you’ll ever love, like I’m the only one who knows your heart” You continued, starting to “sweep” the floor again while grooving to the beat of the song, not noticing Sam who was silently watching you.

“Like I’m the only one who’s in command” Your voice blending into the music as you rocked around the room, singing your heart out to the chorus. “Cause I’m the only one who understands how to make you feel like a ma一 Sam!”

You dropped the broom, jumping up in the air as you turned around to see your boyfriend leaning by the wall, watching you with an amused expression while holding his arms out to you. “Are you just gonna stand there or come here and give me a hug?” He questioned, raising up an eyebrow at you.

Wasting no time, you paused the song before making your way over to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as you hugged him. “How long have you been here? Why are you here already? Shouldn’t you be coming home tomorrow?” Your bombardment with questions made him chuckle, his arms going under your thighs to support your weight, walking towards the couch and settling the both of you on there.

“I wanted to surprise you, baby. We finished a little bit earlier than expected so the moment we got back to the compound I was well on my way home.” He answered, one of his hands retreating from your backside to sneak up and cup your jaw, thumb tracing it gently. His eyes were locked with yours, filled with adoration and love as he continued, “turns out you have a surprise of your own for me. What’s got you cleaning so aggressively?”

You laughed, the anger you had just moments ago melting away as you lean into his touch, “It’s nothing, Sammy. Just me being a little jealous, is all.” You explained, finding it easy to admit your feelings. Your relationship with him was just like that; centered on honesty, understanding, and love. The reason why you’re so assured with him.

“Jealous? What’s got my baby jealous?” His brows were furrowed at the answer, mind trying to remember his actions prior to this conversation to see if he had done anything wrong but came up with nothing. “Did I do something?” He questioned, sitting up a bit as the conversation got more serious.

“I just saw this picture of this you and this actress posted on her instagram and一” you paused, finding it silly now that you’ve even been this jealous about this in the first place. “一I just got jealous that she could post you on their social media so freely. Kind of made me realize that I’m still not existent in the eyes of others; I should be the one posting you like that. Kind of made me realize that I’m not the only girl in the world that wants you.” you finished, not wanting to look into his eyes anymore at the sudden sadness from being hidden.

Normally, you wouldn’t even bat an eye on it but seeing how broken you were, Sam was shattered that you had to go through that thought. “There’s no need to feel ashamed that you got jealous, Y/N.” He said, the hand that was on your jaw now going under your chin to make you look at him again. “I know I insisted that I hide you from the public eye so you can be safe from harm and I’m sorry that because of it makes you feel like this.”

He sighed softly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. “But if you’re ready to be introduced to everyone, even to the team, then I’ll be more than glad to show you to the world.” Sam said, his lips just millimeters away from yours, “The only girl I’ll ever love.” He finished, locking his lips with yours.

You swore on the fact that Sam’s lips were made for your own, the pace slow and sensual, enough to relay that he was sticking to his words and that you didn’t need to worry about anything. His plush tiers felt soft against yours, his teeth sinking into your bottom one, nibbling against it softly before swiping his tongue against it.

“Does my angel want me to show her how much she really means to me?” He whispers, pressing one more kiss to your lips before pulling back, locking his gaze with yours, pupils blown with love and adoration clouded with a hint of lust over the thought of seeing you squirm under him.

Given the fact that you were sitting on his lap, you could feel how hard he was under you. “You feel that, darling? You do that to me.” He groans as you shift, the friction causing his dick to twitch inside his tight jeans. “Be a good girl and use your words, baby.”

“Want you, Sam.” You say, mind too aroused and clouded with perverse thoughts due to the lack of touch you had from him this week to make a concise sentence. “Want you to make me feel good, please.” You beg, brows furrowing lightly in need as you watch him study your expression, a small smile forming on his lips as he easily hoists you up, arms gripping your thighs.

“How can I resist such a good girl begging for me to make her feel good?” He questions, gracing your lips with another chaste kiss as he carries you into your shared bedroom, placing you on the bed as he hovers above you. “I’ll make you feel so good tonight, sweets.”

His lips are then on yours again, his lower half grinding on yours a few times to rile you up, making you elicit a few moans that caused him to go overdrive. He grunts, taking in the scandalous sounds you make before sitting back up, taking the shirt off from your body, throwing his head back at the sight of you clad in only your underwear. “You do know how to make me go wild, baby doll.”

You smiled at him, happy that you were able to make him go haywire at just the sight of you not even fully naked. “My clothes never seem to stay on with you around anyways.” You answer, making him chuckle lightly as he started to attack your neck with kisses, nipping at the skin quite harshly making you hiss in pleasurable pain.

“You look better naked” was all he said before taking in one of your breasts, tongue swirling around the hard nub as his hand teased the other, fingers pinching on it lightly making you take a sharp gasp. He did this for a few moments before kissing his way from the valley of your breasts all the way down to the top of your panties.

Sam looked up at you with a devilish grin upon the realization of what lingerie you were wearing, “My angel looks so good.” he praises, taking a moment to admire your already fucked out appearance with lips swollen and hickey littered skin. He was quick to take off your underwear, eyes filled with hunger at the sight of your soaking cunt.

This feeded his ego to no ends, seeing you so needy for him. “I haven’t even touched you yet you’re already so wet for me, baby girl.” he commented, hands caressing your inner thighs teasingly as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you.

The way his rough and slightly calloused hands were in juxtaposition to the smoothness of your skin granted goosebumps to run along your skin, the cold air of the room adding on to your arousal. “Sam, please. Need you.” You begged once more, attempting to close your legs for some needed friction but his sudden grip on it making you think otherwise.

“Almost there, baby. Patience.” He said, bringing two digits to very lightly graze upon your slit before bringing it up to your lips, his thumb tapping your bottom lip, “Open up, sweets. Wanna see you taste yourself first.” He ordered, wanting to see you suck on his fingers.

Wanting nothing more than his touch, you easily obliged and took his fingers in without him prying them open. Your eyes were locked with his as you sucked on it, setting a blaze inside his eyes that you haven’t seen before, that lone making your stomach twist in knots.

As soon as Sam was satisfied at how wet you made his fingers, he finally gave your throbbing pussy the attention it yearned for. Inserting the two digits inside of you with ease as he slowly started to pump it in and out of your heat while his thumb rubbed circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were a moaning mess under his touch, back arching at the slightest touch he would do to your clit. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure he was providing you. “F-fuck!” You breathlessly moan, hips bucking up as you wanted more of his touch.

Sam then leaned, tongue lapping up your sweet juices as he sucked on your aching clit, the gentle suckling was sinful to your ears. He moaned at the taste of you, its vibrations against you making you whine at the contact. He curled his fingers inside you, easily finding your sweet spot upon seeing how you writhed under his touch.

With Sam’s tongue abusing your clit to no end and his digits mercilessly pumping in and out of you, the tension was all too much to handle that the knot that was in your stomach finally broke. “Go on, baby. Come for me, why don’t you.” He said, feeling how your walls were clamping up around him. The euphoria that followed made your legs tremble as you reached your high, shamelessly moaning Sam’s name mixed with profanities as he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

“Such a good girl for me” Was his words, rising up from his position. You watched as he licked up every last drop of your cum off his fingers, rolling off the bed to rid himself off from his own clothes, your mouth practically watering at the sight of his rock hard length that sprung out from the tight confinements of his boxers.

You were gonna reach out to feel him when he stopped you, “No, baby. Tonight, it’s all about you, remember?” he said, stroking his length a few times, thumb circling around his tip that was glistening with pre-cum as he got back on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. “You ready?”

“Y-yes, Sam.” and upon hearing your answer, he eased into you. Both moaning at the longing of feeling each other intimately. No matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you still couldn’t get used to his size. He filled you up quite easily, his hips meeting yours as he filled you in deep.

Ever the gentleman, he waited for you to give the signal that you were ready and upon your nod, he started to move slowly, wanting to ease you into the pace.. Sam’s groans were music to your ear, “So fucking tight, angel.” He said, one of his hands reaching up to wrap around your neck, pressing against its sides lightly.

“F-faster, Sam. Please” You said and he complied, like your words were pressed a switch in him, he started to relentlessly slam into you, fucking you into the bed and into oblivion. His other hand was on the headboard, palm spread out to gain some support, the bed shaking violently as he continued.

“Let me hear those moans, angel. Let everyone know who you belong to.” Sam said, the hold around your neck tightening slightly, wanting to see you slowly gasp out for air as you let out those heavenly yet sinful sounds, “Who do you belong to, baby?”

“Y-You, Sam!” You answer, feeling your body writhe as another orgasm was already brewing at the pit of your stomach. “F-fuck, I-i’m yours!” You continued, eyes practically rolling to the back at the immense amount of pleasure you got from him drilling you into the mattress.

With those words that left your lips, he started to pound to you even rougher, not caring if the neighbouring apartments heard your cries of pleasure or the squeaking of the bed. You were his and it was his very intention to let everyone know that. “That’s right, doll. You belong to me.” he said, his eyes on your fucked out face. “Mine to fuck and mine to love.”

Feeling the knot in your stomach about to burst, your hands were gripping the bed sheets as you cried out in pleasure, “I’m gonna cum!” body unable to handle the amount of pleasure being handed to you as Sam continued to fuck you out, riding out your high until his own climax hit with one final slam, moaning as he filled you up with his own cum.

Pulling out slowly, Sam took the time to admire his own cum mixed with your drip down from your cunt, a feeling of satisfaction spread through his chest at the sight of you. He leaned in to kiss you once again, this time it was soft and just filled with love, hand running along your sides gently, “Such a good girl for me.” he whispered, pressing one last kiss before he stood up and walked over to the bathroom.

You attempted to follow him, but ultimately failed as your legs were shaking too much from your recent orgasm. You could hear Sam chuckle as he re-emerged from the other room, a wet washcloth in his hand as he approached you. “Let me take care of it, alright princess?” He said softly.

He then started to clean you up, making sure to whisper soft praises about how you took him so well and of how you were so good for him. The moment he was done, he mindlessly threw the cloth into the hamper, collapsing on the bed and took you in his arms, eager to cuddle you. Sam pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. You’re the only girl I’ll ever love.”

You hummed softly, making yourself comfortable in his arms, reaching up to steal a kiss from him, “I love you too, Sammy. I’ll always love you.”

---

TAGLIST: @harrysweasleys @selenasprompts @weasleytwins-41 @anchoeritic @darthwheezely (hello fellow the falcon simp)

if your name is in bold, it means that i can't tag you for some weird reason. join my taglist! find the link in my main masterlist!

[bi-bard]

back when I was livin' for the hope of it all - Dean Winchester Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: back when I was livin' for the hope of it all

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Song Drawn: august

Word Count: 498 words

Warning(s): break-up

Summary: Sometimes, waiting isn't worth it.

Author's Note: Why does Dean Winchester work so well with Taylor Swift songs?

Also, this came out way shorter than I thought it would.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

I wish that I had never memorized the sound of that car.

I wish I could block off the part of my brain that listens for it.

But I couldn't, and now I had to deal with my head instantly turning when I heard the car's engine.

The goddamn impala.

A younger me would've been ecstatic. It was Dean. He was back and maybe he would stay for just a little while longer. I would let him through the door and say hell to the consequences.

And Dean would stay for the weekend before running off on more hunts with no phone calls until he was on his way here again.

The more I thought about the pattern, the more my stomach churned. How had I stayed in that situation for so long? Committing so fiercely to a man that never showed an ounce of care for me?

He had called me that day. Like usual.

Except, I didn't answer.

I ignored the call, waiting for his voicemail, and texted him not to come.

I had hoped that he would get the message.

The rumbling of the impala's engine told me otherwise.

I put down my cup and took a deep breath.

If I didn't draw the line now, would I ever be able to do so in the future?

I rolled my shoulders back before storming toward the door.

I pulled the front door open just as Dean raised his hand to knock.

"I told you not to come," I said instantly.

"Over text," he replied. "I thought you were possessed by something."

"Anything would've lured you in, not pushed you out," I shrugged. "Have to kill the great Dean Winchester."

His jaw clenched. He knew. He knew that I was pissed.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"I don't want you here," I replied.

"What?"

I sighed and looked down.

"What's going on," Dean pushed.

"I'm done," I said. His eyebrows furrowed. "You show up and you sit here for a few days and then you run away again with no promise of you're coming back. I... I can't wait around for you anymore. I need to move on."

"You don't mean that-"

"Yes, I do, Dean."

He reached over to grab my hand but I pulled it away from him.

"I want you to leave," I said, trying to keep any emotion away from my face. "Now."

"(Y/n)-"

"Dean, go," I shook my head. "You fucked this up. It's done."

Dean nodded and started walking away.

Right when he was at the car door, he looked back at me, "Call me if you need anything."

I nodded.

I waited until his car had left my driveway before I went back inside. As soon as my door closed behind me, I let out a loud sob. Even though I knew this was the right thing, I couldn't help but feel the pain from it all.

I had to say goodbye and each moment of it was killing me.

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[mypoisonedvine]

hi could u maybe do a highschool au where they are of age ofc with either Steve or Carter bullying the reader? <3

yes, yes I can!  going with carter for this once cause that’s my baby

You didn’t understand why he refused to just leave you alone.

Up until fourth grade, adults always said it was just because he had a crush on you.  You never knew what to do with that.  What difference did it make if he had a crush on you?  He was making your life hell and no one cared.

Then from fifth to maybe about seventh, it was some stupid psychology thing about how he was probably working through his own insecurities.  And that did add some context but it wasn’t enough to make you sympathetic to him.  After all, he had given you plenty of insecurities and you weren’t out there bullying anybody; what gives?

And then from then on to high school, it wasn’t about anything except power.  “Don’t react, that’s what gives him power,” that was the company line.  And to be fair, by now you were pretty good at ignoring him, but he was also pretty good at seeing through your attempt to feign disaffection; by now, he knew that he got to you, and he knew how to do it perfectly.

More than anyone else may ever have in the history of everything, you were excited for the last day of high school.  You were finally fucking done, and you could leave this shithole behind and never see any of these people ever again-- Carter Baizen especially included.

You knew that he would probably be the worst he’d ever been, one last hurrah to try to twist the knife before he lost his favorite punching bag.  But you couldn’t even care, because for the first time, he didn’t have tomorrow.  It was just one day.  After basically your entire life with him there to cut you down, you could survive one day.  He couldn’t do a single thing to surprise you now, you’d seen it all from him, and tomorrow you were done, forever.

Everyone else was emotional: signing yearbooks, hugging goodbye, promising to write and call and text.  You were just trying to lay low (like always) and make it to the end, a rare sense of hope starting to warm your chest.

It was all pretty quiet until lunch, where he went off-campus to get a cherry slushie only to come back and promptly spill it down the front of your shirt.  The others laughed, and for the first time... you did too.

Apparently, you could still surprise him.  His eyes went wide with confusion and rage when you began to laugh and look down at your ruined shirt.

“Refreshing!” you beamed.  “Sorry to see your eight dollar extra large slush go to waste on my hand-me-down shirt that’s worth even less.”

He sneered, but couldn’t seem to find anything sassy to say.

“Speechless?  That’s new,” you rolled your eyes.  “I’ll go clean up and change, and check up with you when I get back to see if you thought of any good comebacks yet.”

A few of the others dared to gasp in awe at your bravery, or even laugh at him, but his glare shut them up quick.  You turned on your heel and made your way to the gymnasium locker room, where a shower was calling your name to wash the sticky, sugary drink off of your skin.  You didn’t have time to dawdle before your next period, but maybe a tardy on the last day of school wouldn’t be the end of the world.

The shower was relaxing, especially with a new weight lifted from your shoulders; that look on his face when you laughed with him... priceless.  Almost worth all the years of torture.  

Your giddyness faded when you heard a sound from the other side of the flimsy plastic curtain.  Just as you opened your eyes and leaned out from the stream of water, a hand yanked the curtain aside and you screamed, instantly getting pinned to the tile wall by Carter himself.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled.

“Get the fuck out!” you yelped, but he covered your mouth with his hand and glared down at you.

“You stuck up little fucking cunt,” he continued.  “Who the fuck do you think you’re messing with, huh?  Since when do you think you can talk to me like that?  Nobody talks to me like that!”

You shuddered and sobbed and struggled against his grip, but he held fast and you were just too weak to challenge him at all.

“All these years, you never stood up to me,” he recalled, his rage softening into almost a wistfulness.  “You never talked back.  You never even tried.  You just... let me do it.  And the craziest thing of all, you never said what I know you wanted to say.”

Your struggle slowed to a stop as you looked up at him, eyes wet with tears (and yes, all of you was wet from the shower, but this was different).  His gaze was dark and penetrating; his face was stoic.

“You never asked me what you wanted to ask, all this time,” he continued, nearly whispering.  “And now it’s almost all over.  It’s the last day of high school and I think it’s time that you do it... go ahead.  Ask.”

He lowered his hand from your mouth and you took a soft but gasping breath as you searched his face for... something; you didn’t find it.  Swallowing, you meekly spoke aloud the question that had been weighing on your heart from the day it all began, the question you had wanted to scream at him every hour of every day for most of your life: “Why?”

His tone was somber and gentle as he answered, “because I love you.”

The kiss was actually soft at first, until you realized it was happening and started to fight him again.  But he was totally undeterred, holding you by your face and kissing you deeper, ignoring entirely your fists beating on his shoulders and trying to push him away.  You hummed angrily against his lips, your grunts of protest lost when he forced his tongue into your mouth.  

“I love you,” he repeated against your lips, pulling you closer until your naked body was pressed against his clothes, soaked by the shower.  “I love you, so much.  Let me show you the right way.”

Forcing himself on you on the shower was absolutely not the right way, and you were so confused, so paralyzed, so terrified of him that you simply went limp and gave into it.  The good news for you is that you got the answer to your question, the one you had never let yourself ask.  But he won in the end, because he got back the only thing he needed to own you completely: tomorrow.