#love how i was like I'm not going down that road with the maybe neither line

[camillabanilla]

The Quarry:

It's just. Okay. The potential queer relationship was honestly one of the best parts about this game. Like there's so much build up for it, like all these great and sweet scenes, and then it all gets nullified at the very end and the whole thing feels gross. Is that queerbaiting? Maybe? Like why bother in the first place tho. What were the writers thinking? "Hey let's establish a queer love triangle where one of the characters has a really sweet moment of vulnerability only to wipe everything away cause a white girl entered the chat and she's known the male lead for like two hours"

Like WHY.

Kind of a downgrade for Ryan's and Laura's characters tbh.

On the other hand, that throws the conversation that Kaitlyn and Dylan have on the way to the scrapyard into a different perspective.

Gotta say...I'm a little bit soured on The Quarry now. Just because of one dialogue option lol.

I'm not sure if I want to hold on to all the established relationship stuff in the first 7 chapters and pretend that conversation never happened or accept that the pairing isn't going to happen? I think I'm bitter because I thought I was being handed a nice queer relationship but instead it's something that isn't well defined and "up to interpretation" and it makes me tired. Im not naive enough to think that every single interaction or flirtation needs to lead to something down the road and that this is a horror game but still. Stop being cowards, give us a gay relationship where they walk off into the sunrise together.

[shojizbae]

Mothers Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.

Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.

"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep

"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off

"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."

"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."

"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."

"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."

"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods

"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.

"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.

"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.

"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."

"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."

"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.

"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.

"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."

"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.

"That's good."

"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.

"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"

"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.

Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.

"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.

"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"

"Me and my frie-"

"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."

"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."

"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."

"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.

"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.

"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.

"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself

"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"

"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.

"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"

"No,"

"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles

"Mom, I think that's enough."

"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.

"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"

"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.

"I'm trying, Mom," he whined

"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses

"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.

"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"

"No, ma'am."

"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.

"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me

"Well, then, date my Spencer."

"Mom!" he protested

"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.

"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated

Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.

"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.

"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.

"Would you object to a date?"

"Tonight?"

"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"

"You want to do that?"

"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles

"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter III: So High School

“Bittersweet sixteen suddenly”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know l'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses and touches but no smut (yet…maybe) ; Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence.

wc: 2.7k (they just keep getting longer and longer)

“Okay. Classes are canceled, if anyone asks, you’re sick. I called Emily, let her know we won't be working tonight. Uh, what else- oh! I got us a reservation at the Glass Garden. I think that might be fun, and I got us a table at a restaurant that has really great reviews,” he called from his place on the sofa. Hearing the bathroom door open, he turned, his breath catching in his lungs. In the backlight of the bathroom, Spencer Reid almost believed he’d seen an angel standing in his living room in a sundress.

“Oh- um, you look really pretty- not that you aren’t always pretty, obviously you must know that you’re beautiful but I just—in comparison to when you were crying… you’re…” Any attempt to save himself from the awkward hole he’d dug himself into died on his tongue as Y/N giggled. Her laugh was like a ray of sunlight, melting parts of Spencer’s heart he’d long forgotten.

“Okay, so I’m sick,” she gives him her best fake little kid cough, causing him to roll his eyes. “We’re off duty and you made us plans…oh, and I guess I clean up pretty good for a girl who just had a meltdown against our front door.”

“Very well… for a girl who had a meltdown against our front door,” Spencer nods, his cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that’s been plastered on his lips since she entered the room.

Once they were off campus, the couple let out an exhale neither were aware they'd been holding, away from prying eyes allowed to simply exist as individuals for the first time in weeks.

“You said we’re going to a glass garden?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the sleeve of the cardigan Spencer insisted she bring as they make their way down the highway.

“Yes! The Chihuly Garden,” she smiled, loving the way his features lit up with such excitement. “It’s supposed to be this insanely beautiful collection of really intricate and colorful glass sculptures. I’ve always wanted to see it but we never have time when we’re in the city for a case. Actually, I saw one of the artist's pieces in London—god, it had to be almost twenty-five… years ago.”

Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, the excitement in his voice dying with the last words, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His age was showing, and this feeling was something he’d never experienced before. For nearly twenty years, Spencer had been the youngest person on the team. Even at forty-two years old, he still was the baby until Y/N joined. Was this how everyone else felt, talking to him about ‘the good ole days’ for all those years?

Y/N glanced over at him, a soft sympathetic smile taking her lips. In the three weeks she’d spent in such close proximity to Spencer, she’d picked up on a few of his tells. Right now, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, convincing him he’d ruined things and debating addressing the difference in their ages.

“Spence—”

He didn't respond, his mind still running rampant until he felt the pressure of a hand on his thigh, pulling him back to reality and causing him to inhale sharply, his eyes frantically shifting between the hand, the road, and the woman in his passenger seat.

“There we go…” Y/N mumbled, giving his thigh a little squeeze before pulling her hand away and back into her lap. “You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You don’t need to freak yourself out because you’ve got a couple of years on me, Spencer,” she said with a little more confidence than Spencer was used to hearing from her.

“And besides, I’ve always had a taste for older men,” she shrugged, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his now flushing cheeks. Spencer couldn't even bear to look at her, his heart racing as he tried to remain focused on the road. Was Y/N actually flirting with him or was she teasing him? Surely it had to be a joke.

The remainder of the drive was uneventfully quiet, with the couple only really speaking to point out the landmarks they’d passed until they pulled into the tiny parking lot beside the Space Needle. As soon as he’d killed the engine, Spencer was out of the car, running around the back to grab Y/N’s door. She smirked, eyeing the older man up and down as he playfully caught his breath from the minimal jog.

“Shall we, M’lady,” he mumbled awkwardly, offering her a hand as she slipped out of the car.

“get my car door isn’t that sweet. then pull me to the back seat”

“Who said chivalry was dead… Keep it up, we won't be making it out of this parking lot,” her brow wiggled rather suggestively as she watched Spencer gulp, his palm beginning to sweat against hers. “Come on, lover boy. I need that big brain to tell me all about the pretty glass.”

Their afternoon was spent hand in hand or arm in arm, the two only separating long enough for one of them to take a photo of the other. Spencer claimed he ‘needed a good photo for his office’. Y/N thought it was cheesy, but she’d giggle and pose wherever he directed her, and he’d try to do the same for her; though, his poses were far more stiff and awkward, but somehow, that made them all the more endearing.

They spent hours observing the installations, with Spencer rattling on about the different techniques used for each detail and Y/N occasionally offering her own commentary about how the art made her feel. To any passersby, they looked like a happy couple that had known each other for years, not two FBI agents playing make-believe for a while.

The restaurant Spencer had picked for dinner was across the park from the gardens, so there was no sense in moving the car. The once bright late summer sun had fallen victim to the Seattle clouds that were beginning to roll in as the couple meandered through the park. Spencer’s eyes trailed the younger woman’s face; he could tell she was contemplating something.

“What is it?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N glanced up at him, her hand falling from his grasp as she twisted her fingers anxiously, waiting for Spencer’s nod of approval. When it came, she paused, taking a deep breath.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, do you know that you completely changed my life?”

Spencer froze a few paces in front of her, brows knit together as he tried to decipher whether or not this was part of her act as the loving wife or if he actually, unbeknownst to him, had an effect on this young woman’s life.

“You taught a seminar in Nevada five years ago, breaking down the relationships between psychology and philosophy in human behavior.” Y/N’s gaze dropped, the summer breeze exposing the blush creeping up her ears. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in the class; I was an English major, but my roommate dragged me along… and maybe it was the way you taught, your excitement I guess? Or the way that it felt like you actually cared. I could’ve listened to you talk for hours.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “After that seminar, I marched myself down to the counseling office and became a psych major… added a year and a half to my college experience, but given that I’m about to walk into a very expensive restaurant, married to the professor who changed my life? I think it just might’ve been worth it.” She let out a breathy chuckle, her eyes searching Spencer’s for any indication of discomfort before dropping her gaze back to her hands, mindlessly fiddling with her wedding band. “Sorry, I just really needed to get that off my chest.”

“tell bout the first time you saw me”

For a moment, Spencer sat awestruck. He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but the newfound warmth in his chest made it nearly impossible to speak. So instead, he took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he nodded, guiding her down the path to the restaurant in silence until they reached the door. He hesitated just outside, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

“Thank you… just… thank you.”

Dinner went smoothly, with the only minor hiccup being Spencer’s tangent about the bread basket and his qualms with group food. But other than that, the two simply enjoyed each other’s company, the sound of rain echoing against the roof as they ate.

As the couple exited the restaurant, they were met with the heavy downpour of a summer night storm. Y/N sighed, pulling her cardigan around her a little tighter, her lips pursed as she looked up at Spencer, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets. There was no way they were getting to the car dry, he knew that as a fact. So, with a little sigh and a nod to Y/N, he stepped out from the covered awning, arms outstretched as he let the rain soak him.

“Oh, so you’re crazy!” Y/N called, her voice hardly audible over the downpour, making no attempt to move. After a minute, Spencer jogged back to her, his arms wrapping around her middle as he lifted her, kicking and laughing, carting her out into the rain. She wiggled free of him, a smile plastered on her face as her hair began to drip.

 She spun around, embracing the fact she was now thoroughly soaked, a girlish giggle passing her lips as she tucked wet hair behind her ears “Ya now, even soaking wet, this may just may be the most successful date I’ve ever been on.”

Spencer quirked a brow, his head falling to the side like a puppy’s. “Your dating pool is really that bad?” he mused, remembering what it was like to be in his twenties awkwardly trying to make meaningful connections with people

“I don’t even really date; the men—no, they were boys—that have come into my life only ever want to waste my time, so… It’s like a twisted game of kiss,marry, kill? Except everyone sucks and there is a good chance someone is going to actually be crazy enough to kill you?” She shrugged, taking a moment to stare up at the sky her lashes heavy with raindrops

“So what’s it gonna be?” she called, her head turning to glance up at Spencer, the challenge in her eyes illuminated by the gas lamps lining the pavement. “You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes darkened, accepting her challenge with a mix of desire and determination as he stepped closer. Wordlessly, closing the space between them, his hand gently cradling her jaw, his touch an even balance between tender and possessive. He leaned in, devouring her lips, capturing her in a kiss that was anything but tentative. The kiss was electric, a rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the damp fabric.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers gripping the damp fabric that clung to his chest, pulling him closer still. She melted into him, the feel of his lips moving against hers sending shivers down her spine despite the warmth that blossomed in her chest. The rain pounded around them, soaking their clothes and plastering her hair to her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Spencer held her, the way his mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless.

“I’m betting on all three,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dripping with desire.

         “All three…” he repeated, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his hands still cradling her face. “I am way too old for you…” he muttered breathlessly, his head shaking as he brought it down to rest against hers.

“The bureau seems to disagree,” her retort was quick, her lips ghosting over his. “And like I said earlier, it doesn’t bother me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” She kissed him one more time, hard and quick, before bolting through the park towards the car, leaving Spencer standing in the rain like a lovesick kid.

Spencer watched her go, his heart pounding hard and heavy against his ribs while his mind raced a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of the fact that his ‘wife’ just might actually like him.

“Are you coming or what?” The rain had died down enough for Y/N’s voice to travel with ease. Spencer ran his hand through his wet curls, pushing them off his face before breaking into a jog up to the car. When she was within arm's reach, Spencer pulled her close, just taking a moment to hold her, fantasize that this life they were leading could be his reality.

Y/N wasted no time, her lips finding the curve of his jaw with ease, her hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. Spencer let out a groan, his head turning just enough to grant her better access to the sensitive skin at his neck, carefully guiding her back against the car door before returning his hand to her jaw, drawing her lips up to his.

There was a moment of bliss, where this was the only world that mattered, just a couple of lovestruck kids, then the shrill tone of Spencer’s phone cut through the air.

“Let it ring,” she all but whined.

“That’s Emily’s ringtone—” he groaned, fishing the all too loud phone out of his pocket and sighing loudly before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s not really a good ti-” he stopped, his gaze flicking down to Y/N, her frame pressed against the car door, another sigh leaving his now slightly kiss-bruised lips as he untangled himself from her. “No, I understand, I hear you. We’re heading back to the house… we’ll be there to meet the officer.” She took that as her cue, silently slipping into the passenger seat. Spencer stayed outside, pacing the length of the car, nodding to himself as Emily continued to talk.

“I’ll let her know.” His voice was muffled from behind the window. “Yup. Okay. We’ll call you if there’s any update. Good night.” Y/N watched as he hung up the phone, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned, striking the back door in a heated flash of anger, before he stalked around the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

It’s silent for a moment, the car tense with now long-forgotten lust as Spencer tossed his phone into the center console.

“There’s another couple. Same MO, same calling card.” She could see the frustration bubbling to the surface again as Spencer’s knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel. “Local field agent is going to bring the updated file and the crime scene photos to the house…”

“Spence, this isn’t your fault—”

“I never said it was,” he bites back, sending Y/N shrinking into her seat. “I’m sorry… I just— I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I know there was nothing we could’ve done. But it's still frustrating.”

She nods, now her turn to comfort him, her hand hesitantly reaching out across the center console to pry his from the wheel, gently squeezing. “I know, Spence. I know. We’ll figure this out, build our profile, but unfortunately, we just need a little more time. Hopefully soon enough, this unsub will take the bait and it’ll be us against them…” She chuckles softly, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “God, that’s morbid… thinking it’ll be a relief to have a murderer place a target on your head…”

“You get used to it…” he said, any warmth in his voice evaporated as the engine roared to life.

the brink of a wrinkle in time

taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts

I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! xo

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?” 

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra. 

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still. 

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something. 

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted. 

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction. 

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up. 

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence. 

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.” 

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did. 

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

[steddieas-shegoes]

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

[paradiseprincesss]

please we need more Jim the delinquent season!!! please I beg idc if it's smut or fluff or both... Lol btw I am invested in your fics... Wait ngl smut sounds lovely...

perfect for you - jim (the delinquent season) x reader

masterlist

notes: hello lovely anon, i can definitely do that for you! fluffy and smutty jim content is a need. ugh, what i would do to call him mine.

summary: you've always found your best friends dad attractive. unbeknownst to you, the feeling was mutual on his end, especially after his divorce. one night, your best friend goes somewhere, leaving you and her dad alone together.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, kissing, age gap (everyone is legal), reader is implied to be around 20 and jim is in his 40's, bestfriends dad! trope, p in v, aftercare <3

cassie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. the two of you had met in elementary school, and your friendship lasted a lifetime. now, both you and her were attending college together; all grown up. purposefully, the two of you aimed to get into the same college as neither of you wanted to spend time apart from each other, even when it came to school.

you'd known her for ages, and you were super close with her family. likewise, she was close with yours, as you'd basically grown up together. however, cassie's parents divorced just over a year ago, so much to your dismay, you didn't get to see her mom as frequently anymore. she'd moved out even before her divorce was finalized, and you'd only see her occasionally now.

cassie decided to live her with her dad, jim, as he owned a lovely house quite close to campus, and you also lived just down the road. it was convenient for the both of you. jim was never very talkative, definitely more reserved than his ex-wife ever was, and you'd only really gotten to know him more after the divorce.

even though you'd known him for a majority of your life, you clicked with cassie's mom much more - isn't that how it always is, though? regardless, you would still come over frequently to cassie's place, as the two of you always worked on assignments together. even though she majored in something completely different than you, that didn't stop either of you from bonding over the college experience together.

for the first couple months after the divorce, jim was quiet. he would make small talk with the two of you, maybe ask how your lectures went but otherwise he would keep to himself.

during one particularly hot summer day, jim was having a few of his friends over to watch some sort of sports game, while you and cassie were upstairs working on homework. that same night, cassie got a text from a guy she was interested in from her class who'd asked her out, and you encouraged her to go out with him.

jim and you had talked a bit more frequently at this point in time, since he was finally coming out of his shell more. you didn't blame him after the whole thing with his marriage ending and all. that being said, you felt comfortable just chilling at her place as you'd most likely end up going home pretty soon after she'd left anyway.

plus, this wasn't out of the ordinary for you nor her. she'd often stay at your place for a few days at a time sometimes; the two of you were close like that. you'd do the same, staying over at hers for a few days as well, neither of your parents minded. it had always been this way, even when the two of you were growing up.

"are you sure? i can always tell him i'm busy." she asked you, touching up her makeup.

"oh my god, cass. just go, you've liked this guy for so long!" you insisted, giggling.

"yeah, i know," she laughed, "my dad has his buddies over to watch the stupid game, though. you can go home if you want, but if you get tired feel free to crash at mine tonight."

"i live down the road, but i will definitely keep that in mind." you say with a laugh, shaking your head.

"yeah but your basically my sister, so i don't care if you sleep here or whatever." she says, applying some lipgloss as she fixed her hair.

"go have fun tonight," you say to her, "and text me all the details."

"obviously," she says, turning to face you, "do i look good?"

"duh, like always." you say, glancing at her but returning to your notes as you scribble more stuff down from your textbook.

"if all goes well...i'll text you in the morning." she laughs, and you shake your head laughing along with your best friend.

that night, cassie did in fact have a great night - so great, in fact, that she ended up staying over at that guys house. however, she wasn't the only one who ended up sleeping in someone else's bed that night.

one thing led to another while cassie was gone for the night, and somehow you ended up in jims bed, tangled in the sheets and wrapped up in his arms. sleeping with your best friends dad was not something you planned on doing, but it sort of just...happened.

his buddies has gone home for the night, and you wandered downstairs so that you could quietly leave and return back to your house; but you noticed everyone had left already.

"you didn't go out with cassie?" jim's voice called out from behind you, and you turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"no," you shake your head, "i have a final next week, i needed to study for it."

"ah, smart girl." he said softly in that accent that made your knees weak. for a moment, he was quiet. just staring at you while you stared back, unsure of what else to say.

"do you need help cleaning up?" you ask politely, since it wasn't too late. it was only quarter past eight, and he looked a little tired.

"don't worry about it." he smiled, and you shook your head.

"least i could do, i'm always over here anyways." you insisted, making your way to the kitchen.

there were only a few dishes scattered around, along with some empty beer cans and a few cups. you helped him put the food on the counter away and cleaned some of the dishes. after the two of you were done, he looked at you with a soft smile.

"you've always been so helpful," he smiled, "i appreciate it."

"it's no problem." you say back, watching him lean against the counter.

he doesn't respond, but instead just looks at you under the dim kitchen lighting, and his baby blue eyes pierce right through you.

"do you have a boyfriend? remind me, i forgot." he asked suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heating up at his rather...innocent question.

"n-no, i don't." you say with a nervous laugh.

"c'mere." he said and for a second, you thought you'd misheard him.

"what?" you asked quietly.

"come here." he repeated.

hesitantly, you make your way closer to him and look up at his blue eyes. he glances down at you, still leaning against the counter with his hands gripping the edge.

okay - if you were being totally honest right now, you had always found your best friends dad to be really attractive. but he was married for the longest time and he was also the father of your lifelong best friend! it was wrong on so many levels, but it appeared that neither of you seemed to cared.

suddenly, his hand was making it's way onto your waist, and you almost felt the need to pinch yourself in case this was all just a very vivid dream you were having.

"the walls are thin, you know," he said softly, rubbing circles into your waist with his thumb, "i heard you last week, on the phone to your friend or whoever while cassie was picking milo up from the vet."

your heart dropped. last week, cassie had to pick her dog up from the vet, and you were home alone with jim for around half an hour. within that half hour, another friend of yours called and somehow, the topic landed on jim. well, more like you'd told your friend you were staying at cassie's for the evening, which led to the friend asking about her parents divorce, which then led you to say some interesting things about jim.

"if he wasn't cassie's dad, i'd be all over that." you said to your friend as the both of you giggled over the phone.

"yeah, i've seen him. like, damn." your friend said, making you laugh once more.

"you have no idea what it's like when i come over, i literally have to force myself to focus on something - anything else." you tell her, but then you heard the front door open. "mhm, yeah. okay, i gotta go. bye."

with that, you ended your phone call - not realizing jim had been grabbing the laundry from the washer out in the hall. he heard everything, and he couldn't lie; it really turned him on. he always knew it was wrong, but he was definitely attracted to you. it started out innocent, like for example, it started when you had turned nineteen. he would think you looked really pretty when you wore a certain outfit, or when you did your hair a certain way.

then, as the next year or two went by, he found himself noticing other things about you. like how perky your tits looked in a certain shirt, or how badly he wanted to see you bend over when you wore a specific skirt. he tried to shake the thoughts of out his head - but it was no use.

"i-i didn't-" you stammered.

"shh," he assured you, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. honestly, i wish you'd said something sooner."

"...you do?" you asked, a little taken aback by his words.

"i do," he said softly, "so why don't we both stop pretending like this isn't bound to happen."

his hands trailed along your waist and your hips, before his grip on them became tighter. pulling you close, he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face. the both of you leaned in - but you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him.

"jim, wait," you say, looking up at the older man in front of you, "i-i can't- i don't do casual hookups. their just not-"

"your thing, i know. i wasn't trying to imply that this was just going to be that," he assures you once more, "i want you in more than just that way."

"o-okay," you almost whisper, "me too."

he doesn't offer a verbal response, but rather gives your ass a tight squeeze whilst his lips came crashing down on yours. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck as he backs you up into the kitchen counter. recklessly, his lips still locked with yours, he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island. for a moment, both of you break away from the kiss with pink-tinted cheeks.

the thrill of kissing a man so much older than you (who also happened to be your best friends dad) was getting you worked up, and judging by the tent in his pants; it was getting him worked up, too. gently, he helped you out of your hoodie and sweats. you felt a shiver go up your spine as your ass rested on the cold granite of the counter, and he bit down on his lip at sight. with all your clothes discarded, you sat pretty for his taking on the counter with your pink, lacy bra and matching pink thong.

"look at you," he groaned, "so pretty, princess."

clearly, neither of you could even wait to take it to the bedroom. so, with adrenaline running through your veins, you help him out of his sweater and he reaches for his belt buckle. he pulls you into another heated kiss, this time one of his hands coming up to your throat to give it a soft squeeze. as he choked you gently, you moaned into his mouth, the action driving him insane.

he pulled away from the kiss and you felt his tip poke at your folds. you look down for a moment, and you could see him stroking himself with one hand as he lined his cock up with your entrance while the other hand rested gently around your throat.

before he put it in, he looked at you to make sure that this was okay, though he didn't say a word. you gave him a small, affirming nod and he rubbed the head of his cock against your wetness before plunging his cock in, taking you on the kitchen counter.

you let out a gasp as his veiny cock filled you, and he groaned at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. his hand quickly came off of your neck and down to your waist, his other hand doing the same. as his hands found purchase on your waist, he started to move in and out slowly, letting you adjust.

"j-jim," you moaned, throwing your head back, "ugh, feels so good."

"yeah?" he groaned, thrusting in and out much faster now, "d'you hear how wet you are, princess?"

when he mentioned it, your cheeks burned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from his cock pounding your cunt. you could hear it - your pussy was dripping, and it was evident by the squelching sounds in the quiet kitchen.

"s-so wet, just for you- fuuuuck-" you whimper as his cock hit all the right spots inside of you.

one of jim's hands snaked up to your breasts, roughly kneading it and making you moan. you drooling hole started to squeeze down onto his fat cock, making him lose his breath. the both of you were chasing your highs and getting closer by the second.

"f-fuck, you're so tight, m'gonna fill this tight little pussy up." he decided, fucking into you deeply as he took you on his kitchen countertop.

"so close, jim, s-so mmph, close!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure consumed you and the coil inside of your stomach snapped.

"thaaaats it," he praised, "keep squeezing me like that, princess."

you bit your lip and moaned at the way he was talking, and he felt himself tip over the edge as he spilled into you with a groan. his hips continued to buck into you for a few more moments, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your aching cunt.

after you both came down from your highs, he pulled his softening cock out of you. he watched with a sigh at the sight your pretty pussy which was now dripping with his cum. swiftly, he got a towel and started to wipe it up for you. he was taking his time and making sure you were taken care of afterwards, of course.

"how are you feeling?" he asked softly, wiping his seed that was dripping out from your cunt.

"a little sleepy," you admitted with a half-lidded smile, "and a little hungry."

"how about i run you a bath?" he suggested, laughing softly, "and then i'll order us some takeout from that italian place you like down on 47th and main."

"you know my favourite takeout place?" you giggle.

"obviously i do," he admits with a chuckle, "you told me a few months ago, remember?"

"well, yeah. i just didn't expect you to actually remember." you say with a sigh, and he pulls you into a chaste kiss.

"of course i remember, how could i forget?" he smiles after giving you a small peck, "so, does that sound good? a bath and your favourite takeout? then you can sleep in my bed tonight with me."

"first of all, that sounds wonderful, baby," you say, casually throwing the pet name in, "and secondly, can you join me in the bath, pretty please?"

he smiled as you called him baby, "i can't say no to that, princess."

"good." you say, beaming up at him.

true to his word, he did run you two a hot bath which you both enjoyed. after your steamy bath, he ordered your favourite food and the two of you laughed and cuddled on the couch whilst sharing a bottle of your favourite wine. after the two of you finished, you were both sleepy. as you and jim slipped into bed, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, giving you a kiss on the head before you both fell asleep.

the next morning, the two of you were still tangled in the sheets together, cuddled up in the blankets all cozy. cassie had returned sometime in the early hours just before sunrise, and as she made her way up the stairs, she noticed her dads bedroom door was cracked open slightly. she paid no mind to it - until she caught a glimpse of you in his bed with him.

doing a double take, she poked her head into his bedroom to find the both of you peacefully asleep. your head was resting on his chest as his arms were draped over you, the both of you looking so content.

cassie smiled and shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she made her way back to her own room. contrary to what most peoples reactions would be; she wasn't mad. in fact, she kind of saw it coming in hindsight and hey, if you made him happy and he was good to you, then so be it.

though the both of you seemed oblivious to it, everyone else could see that you were perfect for him, and he was perfect for you.

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[aangelinakii]

TALK.

— swimming... fountains?

summary : the two of you had been best friends since god knows when. maybe things turn out differently when you pull him in.

not proofread !

for as long as he could remember, dick grayson was utterly in love with you. from the way you held yourself, to the way you smiled at him, and down to the jokes you teased him with that he wouldn't let anyone else slide with.

ever since you were kids, you consumed his every thought. but what he didn't realise, was that you felt the same.

of course, it was a situation of miscommunication; simply just being too afraid to bring it up to the other, and not being able to read the hidden feelings of one another.

as nightwing, trained detective, dick knew how to read people. he could match a villain to their alter ego by simply passing them in the street on his way to grab a sub sandwich for lunch, but with you it was just different. maybe because it was a matter involving himself, as opposed to simply onlooking others. he felt conscious of his role in your life, and didn't want to manipulate things to follow his wishes.

put simply, he respected you immensely, and didn't want to force you into a situation he was scared you didn't want to be in. perhaps that was why you were better off as best friends.

on days neither of you had anything to do, you walked through the various parks of gotham, usually talking about how the past week had gone, or how the how many days that had passed between seeing each other had gone.

today, the two of you did just that. it was normal, nothing to be thought of it... right?

"i dunno, bruce has been stricter on us recently," dick chimed up in response to your question about his recent patrols. "so i don't really know what's going on."

pursing your lips, you gave a shrug. "even from when i've met him, he doesn't seem too lively. maybe he's just going through something."

"that's what i'm worried about."

and dick gave a sigh, one that held more weight than he was letting on. clearly this was something bigger than either of you two knew.

for a moment, you sized him up, watching as his eyes trained on the pebbly ground ahead. with the back of your hand, you nudged his arm, causing him to perk up.

"hey, how about we get some ice cream? maybe even sundaes from that shop on fourth?"

at this, his eyes lit up, stormy skies clearing with the reemergence of the sun, along with his charming smile. you knew he would be more than happy to, even if he didn't say so.

before you, the water fountain was approaching, with each step the two of you took. as it came up, you brought your foot onto the ledge, and began to walk along it.

as if like clockwork – because of the amount of times he had been with you as you walked along the fountain – dick held his hand out to your, soft palm up to the sky. in his field of work, it was a miracle he could keep his hands from getting calloused.

without having to think about it, you placed your hand in his, fitting like a puzzle piece; like a glove; lock and key.

"i already know what i'm going to get," dick piped up once again, his other hand snug in the pocket of his jeans. "rocky road, vanilla, and strawberry. maybe some butterscotch and marshmallows. i might gain a few, but i'll work it off tonight, anyway."

a laugh brushed past your lips, and you opened your mouth to reply. but any words about to escape slipped past without a sound, for your foot slipped. the fountain's ledge was slightly wet, probably from where a bird wanted a quick bath, or someone playing fetch with their dog actually threw the ball in and water splashed everywhere.

whatever it was that had happened, you were falling, no birds or dog toys could change that. and when you looked over at dick, mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock, he was falling, too.

with a deafening splash! the two of you were splayed out in the water fountain, gasping at the chill, trying to push yourselves to sit up.

"oh my god!" you gasped, pushing your soaked hair out of your eyes, which were wide as they looked over at dick, who seemed just as shocked as you. "are you okay? i'm so sorry!"

"no, no, i'm fine," dick replied, running a hand through his raven hair, looking around at the situation as if not truly believing he was sitting in a water fountain, where literally anybody could walk past and find him. if he found any front pages with his photo on them, he would not be too happy.

on his knees, he waded over to you, and your eyes noticed the way his white shirt grew translucent in the water.

"you," he began. "are you okay? you're not hurt, are you?"

for a moment, you were worried maybe you were, but the adrenaline coursing through your body had deafened the pain, and you frantically moved to inspect if you still had all limbs.

opposite you, a chuckle brushed past dick's lips. "you look fine," he hummed. and when you looked up, his expression was soft; almost more stripped, more genuine, with the droplets of water lingering on his cheek and eyelashes.

"fine?" you repeated airily, the ghost of a disbelieving laugh running out with your breath. "like, i'm fine, or i don't look damaged?"

if you blinked, you would miss it. dick's blue eyes roamed your appearance briefly, the smile lingering at his lips. "yeah, you're fine," he replied casually.

he sat on his knees before you, not seeming to mind the cold water seeping through his clothes – which were probably more expensive than your rent – just smiling up at you, the chill causing a light flush to creep onto his cheeks. after a moment, his smile faltered, and he seemed to grow self-conscious.

"i want to talk to you about something."

you gave a laugh. "really? is this really the right time for that?" you questioned with a half-chuckle, eyes glancing around at the situation the two of you had found yourselves in; sitting pretty in a water fountain, where people were beginning to take notice. but hey ho, it was gotham; stranger things have happened.

dick paused, and, passing over a few beats, gave a bashful shrug. "i don't know. it might be. i don't think there would ever be a right time for this."

with a furrow of your brow, you narrowed your eyes at him. "what's up?" you hummed, repositioning yourself to sit more comfortably on your knees, the water rippling around you.

his mouth opened, readying to speak, but he looked away, seemingly thinking over his words, judging by that inquisitive glint in his eye. but he finally looked back at you.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?"

at his words, the corner of your mouth twitched, aching to hold back a smile. "yeah, of course. i appreciate you too, dick."

"like," he continued, chuckling softly, "i'm not even mad that you ruined my clothes by pulling me into a fountain in the middle of the park. seriously. not even mad at all. if you were tim, i would be holding your head under the water right now."

you gave a nod, eyes flickering to the side. "where is this going?"

dick exhaled through his nose, expression hardening as he looked over at you. "i think you're great. i think you're great when you fall into a water fountain and bring me with you; i think you're great when you send me a text before i go on patrol telling me to 'keep safe'. i think you're great when we go on walks, and when we go share an ice cream sundae, and when you remember my subway order—"

"how am i supposed to forget that you like your subway melts with way too many pickles to even be normal?"

and he laughed, that softness that you just adored shining through once more, causing you to crack a grin as well.

"what i'm saying..." dick began once his chuckle had trailed off, eyes gazing into the trickling stream pooling from the statue in the centre of the fountain. "i guess... maybe i wish we weren't friends."

almost as soon as the words left his mouth, your eyebrows creased and your jaw dropped. "what– that doesn't make sense—"

"i'm in love with you, (y/n)," he finished, cutting off your confusion with barely a full sentence, his lips trembling. "okay? is that okay?"

how could you even reply to that?

noting your lack of response, dick continued to talk, trailing off awkwardly. he was ready for your years of friendship to be over.

"i just suppose we tell each other everything, and i kind of felt – i don't know – guilty that i was leaving this out. especially since it involves you. i know if you ever had a problem with me you would tell me, and the same for me with you, but i could never have a problem with you, i just thought it was the same sort of principle, i dunno—"

warmth clashing against the chill of the water, soft skin meeting soft skin. only for a moment. and it was over.

you pulled away, eyelids fluttering open to look at your best friend expectantly. best friends can't be best friends after this.

he felt for you the way you felt for him.

after every patrol, no matter how tired, he always made an effort to knock on the window of your bedroom, and bring by one of your favourite snacks, or even just to tell you about how it had gone; you adored it, the way he was so thoughtful. you thought he was just doing it because that's what best friends do.

he used to help you study for tests, and make sure you knew the content back to front before you went in.

some nights you would dance in the kitchen to your favourite oldies whilst cooking a dinner to watch in front of a good film; and it was those moments that you felt really connected him to you. but you thought it was just what best friends did.

as you looked up at him, lips thinning anxiously, dick's face softened, eyebrows upturning, the corners of his mouth pulling down.

"you just... kissed me," he breathed, his breath fanning your tingling lips. "why did you just kiss me?"

"why do you think, doofus?" you scoffed playfully, bringing a hand to softly nudge his shoulder, despite the bashfulness evident on your face. "i think i'm in love with you, too."

[sansaorgana]

Hey! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if you would be open to doing a John egan x reader but reader is really close with gales girl Marge and kinda takes care of her while the war is happening and neither of the guys know till they come back and release that Mabye reader moved across the street from Marge and how much she’s been helping Marge, I think it would be interesting to see a domestic and fluff relationship between the two girls and + the men being involved

hello, honey! 💘 thank you so much for your request 😘 it was a very interesting scenario, I love the idea of women helping each other in difficult times 💪🏻💪🏾 not gonna lie, though, I was so jealous of Marge while writing it 🤣 I'm a hopeless case when it comes to Buck, I swear 🙄

Nothing was easy when the boys were away. Handling everything on your own and worrying about your husband at the same time was driving you crazy. You could only imagine how the women left alone with their children had to feel like. You weren’t sure if you’d handle that.

Some women handled the new reality better, some had a more difficult time to adjust. Marge was one of them and as Bucky’s wife you felt responsible for her just like you knew that your husband felt responsible for her boyfriend. They were closest friends and you were aware that if it was Bucky who had stayed in The US, he would take care of Marge because she was important for Gale. But it wasn’t him here, it was you.

You had only met her a few times before John went to Europe but she was sweet and she had wanted you to remain friends like your men were. You would call each other every week and talk on the telephone, trying to cheer yourselves up. But when both of your men had found themselves in the POW camp, you noticed that Marge was getting worse.

You packed your bags and decided to move in with her for some time. She was living alone and spending her whole days worrying. You couldn’t let that happen.

“They are together there, darling,” you squeezed her hands in yours when you were sitting together on her couch. “Think about that, it’s quite lucky that they’re together even there,” you didn’t know how else to cheer her up.

“But God only knows how long they will be there…” She sniffled her tears back. “What if we never see them again? How do they treat them?”

“We can try to write them letters, how about that? I know that the Red Cross helps with delivering them. Maybe they will get ours,” you proposed and she nodded, hesitantly.

“You know, Gale asked me to marry him in his last letter before he went down,” she confessed and you gasped before hugging her tight.

“Oh, congratulations! Then you absolutely have to write to him! You can’t leave him waiting!” You encouraged her and she broke a smile.

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Of course,” you winked at her. “You know, some part of me is less worried now when I know John’s in the camp. At least he doesn’t fly anymore,” you told her. “I only hope he behaves well there because you know what he’s like. If he acts up too much, they can hurt him.”

“I’m sure that my Gale is watching over him and doesn’t let him act stupid,” Marge squeezed your hand and you nodded. She was right. The boys were looking out for each other. Just like you and Marge.

A few weeks later you already decided to stay in the same town where Marge lived. There was a house down the road for sale and you decided to move in there. You knew that John wouldn’t get mad about it and he’d like to live closer to his friend, too. You were sure he’d follow Buck wherever he’d go so you just didn’t listen to your family telling you it was an impulsive decision. It was not. Marge needed you and you needed her.

In the meantime, Buck had his birthday in late December. Marge was very sad about it so you came up with an idea of baking him a cake and decorating it with candles. You invited a few close friends and took pictures of his birthday party to show him when he’s back. She wrote to him about it in a letter that she hoped the Red Cross would manage to deliver. You did the same thing in September 1944 when it was your husband’s birthday and then again in another December for Buck again. This time it was more sad, though, when you both realised that it was his second birthday in the POW camp already. You were slowly starting to lose hope to ever see your husband again, too. But you tried not to show it and be strong. For Marge.

In the letter you wrote to your husband, you mentioned that you moved closer to Marge and that you were looking after her. But you didn’t tell him everything because there were things that men would not understand. And there were things men should not know. You didn’t want them to worry even more but there were nights where both of you would just hug each other and cry. You tried to remain strong for her, to be the responsible one. But it was so difficult. You would let a few silent tears flow, trying to cheer her up although the words you were saying were not believable even to you.

“Germany is losing this war, Marge, we’re gonna see our boys again, soon,” you rubbed her back on those nights as you were sitting by the fireplace.

“What if they get rid of their prisoners? They’re not good people, they don’t respect the laws,” she sobbed.

And what could you answer? You felt the same, you were worried about the exact same thing on all the sleepless nights, clutching on the sheets and praying to all the gods above you to keep your men safe.

“It just won’t happen,” you told her as if you were a god yourself and you knew. But you didn’t, you couldn’t know. She chose to trust you because she desperately needed to be assured.

Sometimes you wished it had been you being held by her. Sometimes you felt weak, too. But you chose to look after her and you would not back out.

In the summer of 1945 they finally came back and you threw a small party at Marge’s house to greet the boys home. Everything had been arranged by just the two of you – flowers, decorations and food. You had lots of fun preparing it together, excitedly awaiting to see your men again.

Of course you feared they would be different now. They had spent so much time in that camp, there was no way they’d come back the same. But you promised each other to always be there for the other one; to help and support when needed. You were like family now.

At the first sight they seemed the same – except for the eyes, they were sadder now. But your John was still playful as he spun you around and rubbed his nose with yours. He made a few teasing comments and inappropriate jokes that would make Gale roll his eyes and sigh. Gale seemed to be the same as well – kind and charming as always, with only a few new scars on his cheeks that Marge kissed all over.

But you knew it was just an act. You knew because the way you behaved oh-so-normal around them was an act, too. You were smiling and joking around with your husband like in the old days, but in fact you just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry out all the ugly tears you had been holding inside for the past two years. 

When all the guests left, you helped Marge in the kitchen to wash the dishes before you and John would go home, too. You were talking with each other softly about some silly things when Gale and John entered the kitchen and leaned on the wall as they watched you.

“What is it, boys?” You asked them with a soft smile.

“Just admiring our wives, can’t we?” John winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a wife yet,” Marge teased.

“Soon you will be!” You reminded her excitedly and she giggled.

“I’ll go to the garden to see if there aren’t any dishes there,” she told you and you nodded. Marge went outside and you went back to drying the plates with a cloth.

“Thank you,” you heard Gale’s voice behind you as you flinched.

“Gee, you scared me. For what, Buck?” You asked.

“You were taking care of her,” he looked into your eyes deeply and for the first time this evening you could see all the hurt and pain on his face that he had been trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, don’t even mention that,” you told him as your voice broke. “You were looking after my Bucky.”

“And he was looking after me. Every day,” Gale nodded and walked away from you as Marge entered the kitchen again with a few plates and glasses.

You glanced at your husband who went oddly silent. He only watched you with sad eyes and you realised there were things about that war they would not tell you nor Marge in a long time. Perhaps never.

You finished the dishes and said goodbye to Marge and Gale. They were not married yet so he was supposed to rent a place nearby for a few weeks until the wedding but on that night he wanted to stay with her and you couldn’t blame him. You waved at them for the one last time and took John’s hand to go back to your house.

You opened the door and turned the light on with a relaxed sigh.

“I hope you like it, John. I had to manage everything on my own,” you told him.

He had been in the house early in the morning after his arrival but soon after you had left for the party at Marge’s house.

“Yeah, I can see that. Some things need to be fixed,” he pointed out and you shook your head at him as he grinned widely and pulled you closer for a hug. “I will repair them, don’t you worry, sugar.”

“Good. But overall you like it, yes?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful. But I’d live with you in a tent by the river, you know that? Everything would be beautiful with you in it,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips and you threw your hands around his neck. “You’ve been a brave girl. I know what you did for Marge,” he whispered.

“I’ve already told Buck that it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” John insisted. “I know how much it had to cost you. Taking care of her when you needed to be taken care of, too. I know,” he caressed your cheek gently. “I’ve been taking care of him. Yeah, he was the one to keep me out of trouble but I’ve made sacrifices for him that only I know about,” he confessed.

For a moment, you felt jealous of Buck Cleven.

“I guess we are just good friends,” you tried to make a lighthearted comment about it. “They’re very lucky to have us.”

“Mhm, incredibly lucky,” John chuckled and leaned in once again to rub your nose with his. “I missed you terribly. Every day and every night. I’m not as good with words as Buck is, I’ve never been the romantic type but I hope you know that I mean it. I love you,” he whispered and you cupped his face with a smile.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t fall for you because you were a romantic or good with words anyway. I fell for you because you were my goof. My class clown,” you assured him. “And I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… Terribly. Awfully. Dreadfully,” you kept saying these words and laughing through the tears of joy as he laughed, too.

“Okay, enough, I get the picture,” he pecked your lips. “Your goof is back now,” he assured you and you caressed his hair with your fingertips.

“I’m glad,” you nodded. “But if my goof needs to be sad sometimes or wants me to hug him and tell him it’s going to be alright, I don’t want him to keep it a secret, alright? I’m here for you, baby, for better and for worse,” you promised.

Bucky pulled you even closer for a very tight hug as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling your soft skin. You put your arms around him and squeezed him in a loving way.

“I’m grateful, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “but now it’s time for you to be taken care of.”

MASTERLIST

[amiserableseriesofevents]

breaking down mid-hug because they just needed this so much please 🥹🫶🏻

Months later, here I finally am 😅

Thank you Ali for this ask, I hope you'll like this little thing 🥰🥰

Such stuff-verse, post fic, set during the months following the last chapter

The phone rings. One, two, three, four, five rings.

A click. Voicemail.

Sigh.

“Hi dad, it's me. How are you? Mum told me you're ok but I'm, ah, just checking in. So, the show went well! Very well actually, you can read all of it in the paper if you want, they're saying great things about us. About me, specifically! So, yeah, maybe this has been the right time! Pity you missed it, uh? I'll let you know the next dates, maybe you'll catch it. Well, call me when you get the message. Goodbye dad, see ya.”

—

Four rings, voicemail.

“Hi dad, it's me. I had a ticket saved up for you on Friday but they told me no one showed up to collect it. I knew it was a long shot but I really hoped you could finish working a little sooner that night to see the show. I know it's something you don't really like but I think you should give it a chance. It would mean the world to me. I have to go now, talk to you soon. Goodbye.”

—

Straight to voicemail.

“Hey dad! Ellie just told me you went visiting her at Uni last week. I live just two hours away from her now, and on the road back to Wisconsin. I guess you didn't know if I was at home though, with all the touring and stuff; next time I'll tell Ellie to let you know if I'm around so you can come say hi, ok? Love you, talk soon!”

—

“Hi dad, it's John. Long time no see, uh? I don't know if mum told ya but we've just finished touring with the show and I'm going to say hi to Ellie at Uni. I was thinking maybe I could come visit you and mum for a day or two? There's a few things I'd like to talk to you about, if that's ok with you. Call back when you get the message, will you? Ok, bye.”

—

Gale's doing the closing round at the Abbotts when John arrives, sneaking in through the exiting crowd. He finds him waiting in the lobby, his face strangely devoid of feeling, eyes vacant as if he's thinking hard about something; Gale smiles when he sees him, the weight of the few days spent apart lifting from his shoulders. “Hey, stranger,” he calls with a fond smile, half expecting John to run up to him and crush him in a hug, or squeeze his cheeks and kiss him; he does neither of these things though, he just snaps his attention to him and offers a tight smile.

“Hey Buck. Need a hand with something?”

Perplexed but trying not to show it too much, Gale leans in to peck his boyfriend on the lips. “Nah, I've already done everything. I was just about to close up and meet the others at the pub, would you like that?”

A night out with friends and a beer always lifts up John's morale, even if he's tired; this time though, he grimaces a little at the offer. “I was just thinking maybe we could stay here for a while? You know, just like old times; I've really missed you, and this place, I'll admit it.”

There's definitely something really wrong, but before alarm bells can start going off inside his brain Gale nods, reaching out tentatively to move an unruly comb away from John's forehead and exhaling softly in relief when he leans into the touch. “Yeah, sure. I've been missing you too,” he says trying to steal something more than a tense smile from John. “Let me just close the front door and then I'm all yours.”

They go sit on the couch in the dressing rooms, all the lights in the building out except a small one in the corner; John looks awfully pale in its dull halo, with shadows under his eyes and that same, void expression that scares Gale a little. He racks his brain trying to figure out what's wrong: John went to visit his sister at Uni, and him and Ellie have a good relationship as far as Gale knows.

He sits next to John on the couch, puts a hand on his knee as gently as he can — I'm here if you need me, please tell me what's wrong, he means. Communication isn't their strongest suit, sure, but he hopes John will understand anyway.

“I saw my dad while I was there,” John says after a while, still staring ahead and not looking at Gale. His hand on John's knee twitches slightly in surprise but that's all the reaction he allows himself, waiting for John to go on.

“I've been trying to reach him for months, since The Tempest opened but he would never pick up, only send me straight to voicemail without ever calling back. This time he did, he called back and took me out for dinner; I was so excited about it, I though my mum had finally talked him through and he wanted to know more about the show, or the next one, whatever,” John continues. His brow is twitching like it often does when he's angry but his voice is still and cold as ice, scarily so. Gale hums softly, to let him know he's listening.

“But that wasn't it. The dinner was just an excuse to tell me that he'd been pulling some strings and he'd found me a job, a proper job, in one of his pals' companies. He said since I'm not a kid anymore I have to stop with these stupid ideas and find something that actually allows me to earn some money and be a normal, independent adult. I tried to explain to him that things are going well now, that we've been making money with the company, I even mentioned how we've invested in the Abbotts but he just- he just wouldn't listen. He didn't care. He said it's stupid and that I'll never become one of the greats because I'm not good enough for that, and stage actors don't make as much as movie actors anyway so it's been the wrong choice from the beginning. And when I told him I wouldn't accept his offer he told me to stop calling him every time I have a show, whining and begging him to come, because he'll never set foot in a theatre to watch me making a fool of myself.”

John's breath is coming harsher and faster now and Gale can't do anything but squeeze the hand on his knee, his insides boiling with rage towards John's father; how dare he make John feel like this, like nothing?

Gale knows the full extent of the effort John puts in his craft, how much he studies, how hard he works for it. He knows all the sacrifices he's made in the past year and what he achieved, how brave he's been even if he was terrified of failing, how happy he is now that everything paid off, how good he is. And his father dared make him feel like all that he's done means nothing?

He wonders how it's possible for a man like this, so mean and close minded, to have brought into the world someone like John — John who is kind, John who loves with all his heart, John who believed in Gale's dream even when he didn't have it in himself to do so.

“Oh darlin',” he says when it becomes clear that the story's over, that John has no more words to spare for it. “I am so sorry he told you all that. You know it isn't true, right?”

John still doesn't answer.

“John, darlin', he doesn't deserve to have you feeling like this. He doesn't want to come see you? Screw him, his loss. There's no seat here or in all the theaters in the world for someone who doesn't support you, it's not worth it,” Gale continues. It's easy for him to say, he's given up on his family years ago, suffered at the hands of his father's hatred many times and he likes to think he's mostly over it. But he still remembers the first times, the fear of having made a mistake leaving them behind, the sadness he felt every time he couldn't call them to celebrate a good grade or to seek comfort during rough times; it breaks his heart to know that now John will have to feel this way too, even if he still has his mom and sisters, because he believed his father could change his mind.

John exhales, shakily. “I just didn't think he could be this mean,” he says. Gale takes it as his cue to snake his arms around John and hug him as tight as he can, rubbing a comforting palm up and down his back

John holds him back, ever tighter, and buries his head in the curve of Gale's neck; it's something he always does when he's upset and can't face the outside world, Gale's smell and his soft skin a source of comfort better than any other. It's grounding, usually, but this time the scent of home is the thing that breaks the dam and he starts crying, softly at first and then louder, hands gripping at Gale like at a lifeline. Anger, frustration, and disappointment shake him, the sting of tears itself irritating because it's not fair that he has to feel like this because of something he loves so much, it's not fair.

Gale keeps holding him, murmuring kisses and sweet words in his wild curls, uncaring that John's tears are soaking his t-shirt. When the crying subsides he gently lifts John's face to take a proper look at him, then wipes the tears away from his cheeks.

“'M sorry,” John croaks out. Gale leans in to kiss the salty traces off his skin, red and irritated and hot.

“There's no need to,” he speaks, softly. “You can cry if you need to, I'm here for you. Even if your father will refuse to, we're not gonna stop believing in you. I'm not gonna stop encouraging you to do theatre, and I'll always be there by your side. Ok? I love you.”

John's eyes swell up again at his words, and he goes back hiding himself in the comfort of Gale's embrace; there's no safer place for him to be, Gale has made sure of that. He'll use his love to shield him, however possible, from the pain and the grief of mourning someone who's still very much alive.

For tonight, he'll hold him there however long John needs. Even until the end of the world, if that's what it takes.

[zeroclockk]

— ⋆˙⟡ Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter four

- Handling It₊˚⊹♡

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down. “How do you know? He doesn't turn into Dad. How do you know he won't lay an unwanted hand on you,"

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 7.3k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes, mentions of abuse and past SA⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

Time passes quickly at Jungkook’s place, or maybe just with Jungkook. It’s so effortless that sometimes I wish everything would go so smoothly.

It’s probably one of the only moments in my week that I feel properly comfortable. And it’s an awful shame that, that comfort has to come to an end. Before Yoongi goes all crazy mode again.

“Noooo I don’t wanna go,” I’m in this mood, where I just want to do nothing and where there’s just a small sadness settles within my chest, it makes me clingy. Only around the right people, if I were to be around Yoongi right now I’d probably be pissed off getting yelled at.

And how much I hate it, every good has to come to an end. And after The Titanic, some lazy monopoly game -that I won- so does this night.

By the time we spent 3 hours and 16 minutes watching The Titanic, I still hadn’t cheered up. So we moved to plan B, choosing a movie that’s not on the “classics” list. I picked one of my favourite animated movies, ‘I Want To Eat Your Pancreas’. Needless to say, it didn’t make it through the movie with dry cheeks.

And neither did Jungkook. I saw he was trying to act tough, but I caught him blinking a tear away.

He hadn’t watched it yet, it was a movie from my favourites list I’d been dying to watch with him. It always hits a soft spot.

“You gotta go, Bun,” It’s awful how he’s right. If I don’t go home now I’ll get in trouble, again. Going to the gym is more fun than going home, and I seriously hate the gym. "Uhg you want me gone so bad," I'm sprawled out on his carpet nearly dragging him down with me, as he tries to drag me inches closer to his front door, holding me by my wrists.

"Yes, leave," He drops my wrists back to the ground, really I could just stay on the ground here if it meant I didn't have to go home. though I have to give in before it gets too late. With a huge sigh, I get up to my feet grab his hoodie from the couch, and take it with me.

"Later Koo," I give him a high five, dragging one foot in front of the other as I get to the front door.

It is quiet out, there's a cold chill that settled inside Jungkook's stairwell. Pressing the down button on the elevator.

My earphones are completely tangled, I should probably save up for some AirPods. I've borrowed Jia's AirPods before and I basically fell in love with them ever since. With music now settling in my ears, I step inside the elevator.

It's awfully quiet out on the road. It's one of those nights where you feel like others can just feel the sadness radiating from you, even though you're not even sad. You just have this strong load of nothingness, sure it might have a little depressed hint to it, and sure I feel like if I missed my bus right now, I'd break down crying.

But luckily I don't, It's perfectly timed actually. right as I step out of Jungkook's building, my bus appears around the corner. Not paying attention to anyone that's around me, there's exactly one person who highlights the place. Just after I checked in and turned to the bus aisle to get seated, Taehyung is sat there, right at the end of the bus.

I debate for a second if I should sit next to him or not, but the moment he makes eye contact with me it just feels weird not to. I shoot him a small tight-lipped smile whilst making my way over to the seat next to him.

"Hey," I tell him as he waves a little at me, giving me one of his gorgeous smiles. "What are you doing here? I've never seen you take this bus before," I try to sound the most genuine not to be rude, I mean I am genuine. I've seriously never seen him on this bus before, and I take this bus a lot. It's the only bus that goes from the city to the suburbs, Or the only one that goes from Jungkook's apartment To mine.

"Oh well, you know... There's this awesome girl that just has been ignoring me for two days now, I was going to check up on her," He tells me, and then I'm sat there thinking I had a chance with him. But then he gives me this look, eyebrows raised, eyes slightly in a pouty look. is he talking about me? I mean, I haven't used my phone since my fight with Yoongi, so that includes not responding to him.

I point at myself with raised eyebrows, nonverbally asking if he was going to my place. Which he responds to with a small smile followed by a nod of his head, confirming my assumptions.

"Ah well, my phone got partially smashed and, I swear it’s getting worse by the hour... I haven't charged it since, sorry," I apologize. "How'd you even find out where I live anyway?" None of my friends have ever been to my home, Jungkook's first time was today. Taehyung doesn't know Yoongi so it couldn't have been him either... But my thoughts are cut off by his response "Oh! my brother's dating Ashley,"

of course, I know Ashley, she's been to my house plenty of times... I think. I don't know, She's a really good friend of Yoongi's. They've known each other for as long as I've existed. Even after all the years they've been friends, I haven't really gotten to know her. She comes by sometimes, so I only see a glimpse of her. The past couple of years have been pretty quiet, though I see her texts sometimes and I see her Instagram stories.

Though whenever I have women's problems, where Yoongi doesn’t know what to do. Hell call her up and ask her for advice, or to come by and handle the situation.

This one time I thought I was having my first period and I just needed pads, he called Ashley to get some and explain to me how they work.

Then this other time my boobs first started coming through and I needed to go bra shopping. Yoongi and I made it to the store but the second he saw a bra, he magically turned into Ashley. Yoongi was nowhere to be found unit later that evening, with a cake to celebrate the birth of my boobs. Yeah, I wish I was lying.

There settles an awkward silence between me and Taehyung, it's late in the evening so we're the only two on the bus besides the driver. the drive doesn't take long, it's about 12 minutes from point A to B.

It's by the time we hit the start of the suburbs that a thought pops into my head. All scenarios flash through my brain if I had stayed home today. Taehyung probably would've stumbled upon Yoongi, I don't want to know how things would've ended then. I know it would be bad but...

I shouldn’t be worrying about this, I don’t forbid him from seeing girls. Ignored their existence even, not that there ever were many girls at the apartment. I’m too scared to even let people in, too bothered by a stupid reputation nobody cares about.

I don’t care if he’s banged some girl he doesn’t know, I don’t care if he’s going to propose to someone next week. Okay well, that’s a stretch. The point is, it doesn’t matter to me what he’s doing with who and where, neither should he.

Now it's only two stops away from my destination and I'm freaking out. "Uhm Taehyung, I really don't mean to be rude but.. you have to get off," which obviously leaves him confused, I’d be too if this random person from school told me to ‘get off’ for no valid given reason.

"What? Why? It's late I thought I'd walk you home," Gosh, bless him and his sweet heart.

"Although I'd seriously love for you to walk me home, Yoongi is going to kill the both of us if he sees us together, so please do me a favour and get off. I promise I'll make it up to you," I plead. He must see how panicked I look, cause his expression softens and he gives in whilst I apologize to him profusely.

He waves it off as an 'I'ts fine' and then goes to stand outside, watching the bus pass by leaving him behind.

I shoot him one last apologetic smile, gosh I feel guilty. The first thing I’ll do when I get home is text him because this is just a shitty thing to do without a proper explanation. He doesn't know Yoongi, he doesn't know how the situation sits, I hope he'll be understanding.

With a big sigh, I try to relieve the stress off of my shoulders, I spot someone in the corner of my eye that looks all too familiar. Walking on the sidewalk past the next bus stop that the bus reaches. I'm so glad I pushed Taehyung off of the bus cause, speaking of the devil, Yoongi is walking home. I quickly press the stop button and run off the bus trying my best to catch up to Yoongi.

"Heyy Yoongelss!," I sound totally fine, not suspicious at all. I probably sound mostly out of breath, from the run over here.

I can see him raise on eyebrow squinting his eyes a little at me. "where have you been!!," I try my best to show my interest in him, getting all spotlights to go his way.

"Uhm, I just got back from Seokjin and Namjoon’s place," he explains. Seokjin and Namjoon are his friends from college. Aside from Ashley, I was confused to see he actually has friends.

Ashley was our childhood neighbour, she's always just been here. Not a moment has she ever bothered me. But his other friends? They're dicks. I've only met them very few times, They always make fun of my being Yoongi's little sister, with emphasis on little. It’s unfair really! I’m not even that tiny, they’re just freakishly tall. I'm sure they're nice once you get to know them.

"You hungry?" With all the fights between us these past few days, I feel like we need some quality time. "Sure let's go," He takes the turn towards our street, which has a convenience store on the corner.

Both getting ourselves some noodles and a drink, coincidentally both having the exact same order as we meet at the tables. Yoongi sitting opposite me, he's quiet.. he isn't much of a talker anyway, we both enjoy our quiet times. but I came here to talk so...

"Yoongi, I'm sorry if I disappointed you..," Deep down I know I didn't do anything wrong, he's the one who got mad in the first place. All I ever do is care, mentally and physically. I care so much for him, all I ever do is for his convenience.

"No, I should apologize," Is he, serious? I don't think I've ever heard him apologize before, even if he should've, he finds it difficult to admit his faults. "I shouldn't have been so harsh on you.." he starts. "It's just.." He sighs deeply, he is having a hard time saying whatever he's about to. It must've been bothering him a lot.

"Nayun.. Before you were born, Dad was living at home like.. consistently. And he wasn’t as bad as a father as what you know him as. When you think of Dad you just think of this abusive asshole who left us and probably some really traumatic things. When I think of Dad… I see my Dad, the guy who used to play basketball with me, take me to school, and read me stories to bed until mom got pregnant with a girl... and when I see you with guys, all I can see is what dad turned into and how these guys could too,"

Wow, he's never opened up this much. I never knew Dad wasn’t like that before I was born, I guess it explains a lot. But still, this doesn’t justify the way he’s been acting, for like ever.

I don’t really know what I should do with this information, I don’t know if I’m better off knowing it or not. All these years Dad was just like that because he was Dad, and now I feel responsible for it. I’m not the only one who suffered from his abuse, Yoongi did too. If I wasn’t born, maybe Yoongi would’ve had a proper dad.

But then also, why did Dad didn’t like me? Why does he resent me? He couldn’t just pretend I was a guy, yes sure it would’ve fucked me up in different ways, but I think I prefer that over the things he’s done instead.

Instead, I wound up with an evil baggage of daddy issues, the version that includes the sexualized version.

“I can handle myself Yoongi,” I look down at my noodles, chopsticks ready to grab some. Instead, I bite down on my lip and pick at the separate strings of noodles, suddenly my appetite has completely gone out the window.

I was ready to sit down with Yoongi and have a heartfelt conversation, make up even. It’s every time that Dad gets mentioned, it runs my mood entirely. I hate that man from the bottom of my heart. I hate him so much, each time he leaves I hope he’ll never come back. It even gets so fucked up that sometimes I dream of police coming by the house, telling us the ‘bad news’ of him being in an accident. And I hate that I still care so much, I still love him deep down.

“How do you know?.. huh? How do you know that this guy that you’ve been seeing that's just oh-so-perfect. Doesn’t just turn his back on you and turns into Dad,” His voice raises.

“How do you know that one day you won’t end up with a guy that hits you every day uses you for his needs, and doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings on it,”

“How do you know he won’t just go at it without checking up on you asking you for a fucking green light knows when to keep his hands at home,”

It’s a chapter I put past me a while ago. It wasn’t even a heavily reoccurring event anyway, I’ve moved on that’s the point. Yoongi and I both went through tough stuff with him, I know he wants to protect me. But all I really need from him is love and support. To get through everything together, but I’m afraid that’ll never go through to him.

“You know how much it hurts me? Looking at you? All I can think of are the sounds from your room and I couldn't do anything, you didn't do anything,” He sounds angry in a way, it’s not said softly or calm, he doesn’t take his time saying what he said no it’s rushed. His words poke right through me, it hurts. How does he think he can just say that, he's being so unreasonable.

And there goes my entire appetite, in with the tears. Great... I don’t like crying like this in front of Yoongi. It’s okay when he’s yelling at me, or smashing things around me, being in a fit of rage. Not when he’s being honest, emotional, and nonviolent. I can’t say his voice gets the memo too.

Yoongi hadn’t bothered keeping his voice on a socially acceptable level, I could see the cashier looking at me with a funny expression that told me he was assuming way too many things from this conversation alone.

What makes it worse is that he doesn’t know how to act, he just sits there staring at his noodles looking all stupid. I don’t want to cry but the tears just keep coming, I don’t make a single sound. I must look stupid along with him, swallowing my tears back as much as possible. But it’s hard, there are far too many to swallow back, frantically wiping away my tears with the sleeve of Jungkook’s hoodie.

I want to get out of here, I just feel out of place. But I just can’t go running to Jungkook every time something bad happens. He shouldn’t be the one who cheers me up and he shouldn’t be the one who has to sit with my feelings.

But he’s also always been there for me, still after everything he tells me he’ll be there for me whenever. So you can call me selfish for this but, I’m going to take his word for it and go over to his place. It’s either that or go home and after this conversation that’s the last thing I want to do.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff back my tears, stabilizing my voice as much as I can. “You can have mine,” I push my bowl of ramen towards him, getting up from my seat and practically barging out of the convenience store.

He looks dumbfounded as I pass by the window he’s sitting at, and he just continues eating his stupid noodles. I try my best not to cry during the bus ride but it somehow just feels so much longer than usual.

After what feels like an eternity, I just stand there, in front of his apartment complex. Trying to muster up the courage to knock on his door.

I’ve calmed down a little, I’m not crying anymore. Though my mind seems to be racing at 100 miles an hour, I’m never this hesitant to go up to Jungkook’s apartment. So whenever I do, it’s a cry for help -to myself that is-. It makes me nervous, cause I feel like a bother to him. He’s made me sure I’m not, so I set it aside the best I can and knock.

There’s a long moment of silence after I knock on his door, is he home? My phone is dead so I won’t be able to text or call him and I don’t have a spare key either so.. oh my god what if he’s in there with someone? Maybe he’s just asleep I mean it is pretty late.

Suddenly everything I’ve set aside comes rushing back to me almost twice as hard as it did before. I panic, I shake my head at the thought of me standing here as if I’m not literally in that situation right now. I really need to get out of here.

In a fit of confusion and regret, I barge back to the elevator, pressing its button which definitely takes longer than usual to work.

But then finally the doors open, ready to step inside eyes glued to the ground.

“Nayun?,” It's a male voice, familiar even, but it's not Jungkook’s or Yoongi’s. And Yoongi is quick off the list cause, he wouldn’t be confused about me being here and I would’ve just known if it were him. I quickly look up from the ground to identify whoever’s speaking to me.

Suddenly my panicked thoughts, have turned into a panic attack. I take a step back, breathing getting more difficult than usual. It’s as if talking about him, has summoned the devil. I can’t think straight anymore, the world suddenly spinning around me. Everything had been feeling like an eternity, but this moment right here is something I’ve never in my life witnessed before.

Not a moment where he walked inside of the living room that had me this shocked, not a moment where there was cash left on the table with a note to another disappointment that he was gone for a weekend that left me this devastated.

What is he even doing here? He has no use in a neighbourhood like this, it’s not the way he works like he’d always tell me. That even though we live in a dump, always shitting at how disgusting we live and never taking action to make the situation better.

“D-Dad? What are you doing here?..” I stutter, barely being able to form proper sentences. My mind is blank for a second, time pauses and all I can think about is him, quickly followed by how disgusting he is and how he still walks around freely and everything just crashes down on me. There’s so much happening at once, I just feel helpless at this point.

He’s about to take another step forward until he’s cut off, making him step back staying put in the elevator.

“Yun, I found it. You don’t have to buy new ones let’s go” a voice says from my left. I look at where the voice is coming from, registering his features. It’s Taehyung again jumping out from behind the corner, right beside the elevator. He doesn’t see my father, nor does he see Taehyung.

There are so many questions going on inside of my mind, but I don’t have any time to act on them. Telling Taehyung it’s ‘great’ even though there’s nothing about today that is ‘great’ before I walk with him not thinking twice about whether I should tell my Dad goodbye or not. Or even hear him out.

I follow Taehyung up one more floor, into his apartment. Quite literally shaking from what just happened, and he tried to take care of me so well. He sits me down on his couch, takes my shoes off, and gets me a glass of water. Tells me to breathe in and out, tells me everything is going to be okay.

Something in me tells me he has done this before.

I could ask him one hundred questions right now, give him a thousand explanations, or freak out and run. But the first thing that comes out of my mouth is; “How did you know..?”

“I didn’t,”

“Let me explain,” he gestures for me to sit down on his couch.

He explained to me how he was walking up the stairwell and saw me walking through the hall, great time to have glass doors. He was going to call out for me until he heard me and my dad. Assuming the panic in my voice wasn’t something positive and felt like I just needed to get out of there.

“I hope it wasn’t the wrong move to make,” he asks looking somewhat apologetic, just in case.

“No, no you were great. I think with the bus and everything I owe you an explanation as well” I saw looking down at my hands fiddling with the hem of my sleeve.

I try to give him a light explanation, which is difficult since the story has so much to it. Sparing him the details of my childhood by just telling him he’s a very bad Dad, that I hadn’t seen for an entire year. That Jungkook lives downstairs and that, that’s why I was there in the first place.

“Oh and about the bus... You know Yoongi? Ashley’s friend?” I ask him, to which he nods in agreeance.

“Yeah well, that's the brother I was talking about, and.. we just had a big fight about how he doesn’t let me date and such,”

I can hear him sucking in his breath through his teeth at the mention of Yoongi being my brother, I guess his name has come across some time.

“I swear he can be really nice…” he chuckles at that, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

He walks over to his fridge holding up a Coke, looking at me with a questioning look to see if I want one as well, then hands it to me.

“So you live here?” I ask him.

“Ah no, my sister just moved here recently,” That makes sense, I’ve never seen him here before and I’ve been in the building plenty of times.

“She’s out for the weekend, I promised to watch her cat,”

My face immediately switches into a pouty face with big, big puppy eyes. “You have a cat? I love cats!”

He nods excitedly before he starts calling out pet names, making squeaky noises with his mouth to lure the cat to him.

He disappears into the hall for a second before his head peaks through the open doorway “Found her!” I immediately stand up walking towards him, into a bedroom.

I don’t see a cat at first, but upon better inspection, there’s a little tiny bump under the perfectly made-up duvet. I fold over the covers to reveal the cutest little cat I’ve ever seen. Okay well not the cutest, coco will always be no.1.

It’s a really small fluffy cat, she must still be a kitten. “What’s her name?” I ask between my awh’s and baby talks to the cat. I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Bada, because of her eyes” I look back at the cat, she has have most crystal blue eyes, or, I guess ocean blue.

I lie down on the bed petting the cat's head before she rolls around exposing her belly, and stretching her little arms and legs out. I think I might melt from cuteness overload

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing,” I must sound so stupid, but it’s a cat! I can’t help it.

“Not to me she isn’t,” Taehyung says from behind me. “I’m taking you’re not a big cat person?”

Couldn’t be me. don’t get me wrong I like dogs, but you actually need to walk them and stuff. I like affectionate cats that are a little lazy, you can just cuddle with them and their playtime can be done from the couch.

“I actually own a dog, his name is Yeontan he’s like really cute and fluffy,” he tells me walking over to the edge of the bed with his phone out and showing me a picture of his dog.

I got to give it to him, he is cute.. most small dogs look like little rats but if they’re fluffy they’re a lot cuter.

“Okay, I guess he’s cute but.. over a cat?” I pick up Bada and hold her up next to my face, her arm right under my chin as I look at Taehyung with a pouty face.

Talking like a little kid “How could you have me?.. I don’t bite you’re just biased,” which makes him chuckle. He looks gorgeous, his laugh is so adorable and cute it instantly makes me smile along with him. Just looking at each other for a few seconds, smiling like two idiots.

“Uhm do you have a charger perhaps? I should probably bring my phone back from the dead,” I ask breaking our little stare-down. Which leads us back to the living room.

He searches for a charger because it’s not his house, it gives me a moment to inspect the room a little bit. I see a picture of Taehyung and what I assume must be his sister, stood on the TV stand.

She’s really pretty, she looks like Taehyung. Their family must be blessed with good genes. His sister has light brown hair and a bright smile so big her eyes are closed shut, a peace sign next to her cheek as Taehyung stands next to her poking out next to her, holding two fingers behind her head to imitate bunny ears.

Next to it is a smaller picture frame that holds a picture of what I’m guessing is Taehyung his sister and his little brother as kids, I can’t help but smile at it as I pick it up.

“Oh gosh that is so embarrassing, put that down,” he laughs seeing what I’m holding when he walks up to me, handing me a charger.

“Noo! You look cute,” I smile looking up at him over my shoulder, I feel like I’m about to faint as he looks back at me. He’s close, so close.

His hair falls over his forehead, lightly touching his right eyebrow. not a pimple or a pore to be seen, but the slightest little stubble peeks through on the bottom of his chin. his deep brown eyes have a subtle glint in them, I swear it's shaped like a four-pointed star.

My eyes falter down to his lips and I can see him inching closer, ever so slowly. Until I break it, clearing my throat and taking the charger from his hand. I mean I’d kill to kiss those gorgeous lips, but not today. I’ve been on such an emotional rollercoaster it just feels wrong to let those take over pleasure.

"Where's the outlet?" he takes a step back clearing his throat as well, his eyes scanning the room. "Yeah there," purposely not looking at each other. I walk in the direction he pointed at plugging in my phone, before sitting down on the couch.

And now it's back to awkward silence again. I slide my hands across my thighs and knees, lips forming in a tight line. He doesn't say anything either, sitting down on the couch next to me leaving more than enough space between us.

"You wanna watch a movie? Or should I get you home?" He asks me, so so polite, but going home? yeah hell no, that's not happening today. I think I'm going to text Jungkook when my phone charges to see if he's home and then sleep over at his place.

so movie time it is, it's great to spend some quality time with Taehyung. "Yeah no a movie sounds good" I patiently watch him as he turns the TV on navigating to Netflix.

"Fall?" he suggests. "hmn no," he continues scrolling. "Oh! Perks of Being a Wallflower?" I suggest. but he declines and says he didn't like it that much. "Me before you?" he looks at me, at this pace it'll be a continuous loop of this and that. but I've seen it already, and to be honest I don't want to watch it again.

"OH! She's the man! I love that movie!" I see the hesitant look on his face, but something in him makes him go with it.

I tuck my knees up on the couch, inching a tiny bit closer to Taehyung. I don't know what happened but by the end of the movie I was cuddled up into his arms, I heard him laugh during the movie. he turned the TV off, taking his arm off of me.

"Did you like it?" I look at him hopefully, awaiting his approval of the movie. if he doesn't like it I don't know what I'll do. "It was.. good! I liked it," he smiles. this is one of the movies in my top 10 list, god top 5 even! And he thinks it's good? he liked it? This is a great movie, an awesome movie.

I stare at him in awe, unbelievable that he just said that. I shake my head in disagreement, though he picks it up the right way laughing along with me.

"Thank you for having me over," I thanked him, it was late already when I got here. after a whole movie, I really should get going.

I thank him once more unplugging my phone from the charger seeing it's nearly 2.30 in the morning. He walks me out, my eyes linger across his features once more as I stand outside of the door. It takes everything in me not to kiss him right on the spot. "I'll text you," I smile widely at him.

I don't text Jungkook I'm only one floor above him, and I'll pass his door anyway. I make my way downstairs knocking on his door for the second time this night. He's probably still awake, playing overwatch or something.

And the door opens this time. But I don't see Jungkook, no. Mingyu opens the door ever so cheerfully, welcoming me in without a doubt. "Hey, Mingyu! Jungkook home?"

"Sorry Yun, I don't think he’ll be home tonight but you're free to take his room," that’s embarrassing. Mingyu knows absolutely nothing about me, and yet he just knows I need a place to sleep. "Thanks. I’ll... text him,"

His room is neat, bed made perfectly. I hold my phone up to my ear. Ringing, once, twice, trice, like four hundred more times I don't know. it feels like an eternity until it goes to voicemail, which leaves me with a text.

no matter how close Jungkook and I are, it's still weird to sleep in his bed without him knowing.

Hey Koo, I'm staying over at yours just so you know.

What a rough night, I went from crying at home to being emotionally rescued by Jungkook. Then going home meeting Taehyung on the bus, just to rudely push him off of it. Meeting up with Yoongi five seconds later, fighting once again, getting back to Jungkook’s apartment where I found my Dad after a whole year to once again be rescued by Taehyung this time. Followed up by Mingyu letting me into Jungkook's apartment and now we're here.

I don’t think it's a crime to say that I'm tired, and I just want to sleep the night away. I'm actually doing fairly well for the rollercoaster I've been on, Taehyung really helped me out tonight.

I scavage around Jungkook’s dresser to find a black shirt, placing it on the bed. taking my makeup off in the bathroom, Jungkook was right this morning. I really do look terrible. Gosh, I went to Taehyung's like this? I hope he didn't wear his contacts.

Back in Jungkook’s room, in his shirt that's far too big on me. I settle down in his bed, off to fucking, unicorns, and elves or something. I'm going to dream so, so well, Jungkook's bed is like a cloud in physical form. And before I know it I'm off to dreamland.

at least that's what I think, I sent Jungkook that message 15 minutes ago tops. And he walks in, doesn't even say anything but cuts right to the chase and kisses me with force, hungrily whilst cupping my cheeks.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you all day Yun, you drive me insane," he says between kisses, trailing down my jaw and my neck as I give him more space to mark me even more than he already has.

he moves onto the bed, pushing me further back against his pillows. his lips work me so good I think I’ll get addicted to it soon.

He takes off his shirt, pulling at the hem of mine placing small kisses all over my face. His hands are all over me, massaging my thighs, trailing up over my hips to hold my waist whilst the other one is holding himself up as he hovers over me.

He just knows what to do, gets me so wet so easily. Skip the foreplay, fuck me right now. mainly because this foreplay feels like it's taking forever, I just want him out of his jeans right now.

I move my face away from him, pulling the shirt off that I'd been wearing. The sight of my bare chest is all it takes for him to start unbuckling his belt, his abs on full display, oh lord I love this sight. wish I could marry this sight.

His hair falls in front of his face trickling his nose, gosh he looks so goddamn handsome.

My eyes shoot open and I'm met by the sight of Jungkook's PC setup. What the fuck, did I seriously just have a sex dream about Jungkook?? my best friend? My head shoots to the door as Jungkook walks in, the real one. He peeks his head through to see if I'm asleep or not.

"Jungkook?.." I nearly whisper. He takes this as his queue to come in, dimly turning on the lights. rushing over to my side of the bed, crouching down next to me as I swing my legs over the edge. knees facing his chest, taking my hands in his.

"Are you okay? what happened?" He looks panicked, I feel guilty. he must think something major is going on because I'm staying over. well maybe because I came by at 2.30 in the morning, or a combination of the two.

"Where did you come from? You’re out of breath," Though I feel guilty I can’t help but suck in a deep breath, this stupid dream is making me delusional into thinking I’m attracted to him.

"Yun, You're here at 2 in the morning what's going on"

"I'm fine really," I assure him. I don't know if I want to break down in his arms or pretend like everything is fine. I don’t want to burden him each time with my issues, we barely ever talk about him and his situation.

but he insists no matter how much I hold on to the 'I'm fine act' he doesn't let it pass until I spill everything out.

"Okay.." I sigh letting my shoulders drop, here it goes.

"So... I left your apartment and when I got on the bus, Taehyung was sitting there. I push him off of the bus and at the next stop I meet Yoongi, we go out to eat. he tells me he hell basically never let me date and that I'm the big cause of turning Dad into what I turned into. well, he didn't tell me that exactly but that's what it felt like okay. Anyways, I ran off and came back to your apartment but nobody opens so I went to the elevator where I saw my Dad, I nearly got a panic attack but then Taehyung was there yelling out something about a store and I needed to come back so we go to his apartment upstairs, sorry I mean his sister's apartment that has a really really cute cat by the way a-"

"Yun, Yun," he waves his hands around a little cutting me off. "Your Dad was here? in my building?" he asks, his brows furrowing a little as his expression turns into a combination of complete shock and something that makes me think he isn't processing this properly.

"Yeah, But it's fine! Taehyung and I watched a movie and I actually feel way better right now," that's not a lie, I do feel better. I was shocked at first and yeah I might've had a slight panic attack, but now it just feels numb. I see he's doubting me, eyebrows raised with a questioning look on his face. "Seriously" I assure.

"Alright," he stands up his hands ghosting mine before he walks over to his dresser grabbing the pyjamas that are folded on top of it heading back to his door. "Let me know if you need anything m’kay?"

I nod with a small smile, more like the corner of my lip inching up for a split second. He walks back out, turning the lights off before he shuts the door.

It falls silent. I grab my phone off of the nightstand to check the time. 3.40 am. I should really be going back to sleep. I lay back down on my back, staring at the ceiling waiting to fall asleep again. I close my eyes but all I see are flashbacks of the stupid, stupid dream I had. I shouldn't think about it, nope.

Lasagna, yes I'll make lasagna tomorrow *Jungkook’s abs* no no no. Okay uhm, Karaoke. I should practice my singing. Yeah! That IU song has been going well, I should learn the second verse. Or maybe something with a higher range, I mean certainly the f#5 was harsh on me first but I think I've got it. Maybe I could up it a notch by going for like a G5. I know Sia's chandelier is also *Jungkook* no no no. No!

Maybe something sad? Today was sad! shit, what if Yoongi texted me? I flip my phone over to look at it. 3.50, that took me ten whole minutes to think about? Woah.

I unlock my phone and I see exactly one message. From the group chat, something about Kai and his slutty waist or something, I don't know. But nothing from Yoongi, glad to know my brother cares so much. Who am I kidding I should be glad to be free from him for a second.

He worries about the wrong things, worries about things that aren’t there. Talking to guys is forbidden but walking off in the middle of the night where anything could happen, that’s okay with him? I could’ve been kidnapped countless amounts of times, I guess he’s used to me running off.

Wait, what if Dad went home after he saw me? what if he's there right now? I don’t know what a disaster it could be back at home. I don’t know if when I go home tomorrow I'll stumble upon a murder scene or a trashed house, or a bleeding out Yoongi with a drunk mom and dad in the room or-

I sigh deeply, this is too stressful for me to think about at the moment. Hey well, at least I'm not thinking about Jungkook's big, big strong veiny hands anymore. oh, what is wrong with me?

That's why I decided to get out of his bed and go over to the living room. He's sitting on the couch, TV on. I can see there's a soju bottle on the coffee table unable to tell if it is full, empty, or partially drank.

The back of the couch is facing the bedroom doors, he can't tell I’m here.

"Koo?" I sound quiet but it's still enough to make him turn around and look at me. "I can't sleep" I haven't properly tried but my mind is racing from thought to thought and when I do actually sleep all that I can seemingly think about is Jungkook and his crazy good abs.

he nudges his head for me to come towards him. he adjusts his position to lie down completely on his back, with his neck looking for support on the armrest whilst holding out an arm for me to join him. so I do, lying down on his chest and closing my eyes as I lay down.

His attention stays stuck on the TV, now with a lowered volume. My back is facing the screen anyway, the only thing I pay attention to is the rising and falling of Jungkook’s chest and his heartbeat beating in an exact pattern. That is until I hug his waist and let out a big sigh of relief. It goes from a steady pattern to a moment of nothingness until it switches back to its original pattern.

“Thanks for letting me stay,”

“Anytime,” His hand falls on top of my arm that’s hugging him, the pads of his fingers lightly tracing figures on it.

“Hope I didn’t intrude on your plans,” I look up at him.

“Never,” he smiles.

“I was watching football with Eunwoo, Guesung and Minghao. Mingyu was supposed to be there but he had to pick his girlfriend up from the airport,” he explains.

I hum at that readjusting my head back to its original position, on his chest. “Sorry for giving you a heart attack,”

“Yun,” He moves his hand under my chin lifting it up to look at him. “Promise me that next time you fight with Yoongi, or see your Dad -no matter if something happens or not- You’ll call me,”

“Sure? Yoongi loves arguing,”

“You know what I mean,” he says, taking his hand away from my face. “Promise me,”

“Okay…”

“Say it” He insists, making me smile.

“I promise” Now I can sleep, in peace.

prev | next

[vintageaustin]

goodbye kiss

austin butler x reader.

summeray: the reader and austin meet again, and spend one night together

warnings: angst cussing alchol depresion pregnancy cheating mention of sex not acteul sex tho

authors note: i personally really love this and i hope you guys do as well, enjoy kids, there are so many songs combined into this song let me know if you can find them!!

Massive thanks to @austinbutlerslovers and @elvismylove04 for the help🩷

It was Friday night, and like usually, you felt alone. You didn´t mind feeling alone, but... there was something about being so lonely that you didn´t even notice you were crying till now. The road was long, sure, and you tried to have fun in the meantime.

So even though it was a whopping 57 degrees in Vegas, you decided to go out and maybe look for someone who was just as damaged as you are. You liked taking a walk on the wild side. It made you feel alive, and feeling alive was better than feeling nothing at all.

Your heart broke with every step you took. You had never really been in love, you thought as you wandered the streets of Las Vegas, except for that one boy. You were hoping that at the gates they´d tell you that he was yours. He was born in August. You just met him too soon.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you bumped into someone. I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, you said softly. The stranger chuckled, and you, on the other hand, still hadn´t looked up. "It´s okay." He laughed gently. That voice that laugh, you recognized it. 

"A-austin, you whispered as you looked up. There he was standing in front of you, but something was different; it was like the light faded from his eyes. He wasn´t doing okay, and well, neither were you."W-what are you doing here? You stuttered, and he smiled softly looking.

Down at you, ¨I was looking for you" he whispered.

You looked at him a bit, taken aback. "For me?" you asked, kind of confused. To be fair, you and Austin broke up a while ago. Though you never stopped loving one another, you never really talked again after you broke up. "You're dad, he, uh, he called me." You looked at Austin and turned around, walking away.

"You´re dad!?" The little voice in your head was screaming. You hadn´t talked to your parents in ages, and now they send your ex-boyfriend over to check up on you??. How sick is that!? Your thoughts got interrupted as Austin called you multiple times, "Angel!? Wait up, cmon, let me explain!" he said. And you shook your head. "I don't wanna hear it aus, you either don´t mention them and we have a fun night and forget about this tomorrow, or I leave," you said, kind of cold and huffed. 

Looking at those striking blue eyes, Austin chuckled and nodded. "Wanna get drunk in my hotel room then?" You smiled softly and nodded as he grabbed your hand and started running down the street to the corner store. The two of you got a cheap bottle of vodka and whiskey. Then make your way back to his hotel room.

And you couldn´t help but think maybe the two of you lived in silence for too long. You were broken, and he ran allong like he was supposed to, and maybe the days the two of you had were gone, rock and roll sent the two of you insane back then... You couldn't help but wonder if it would do that again.

You got snapped out of your thoughts as Austin spoke up. "Do you want a drink?" he asked as he took a hold of your waist gently. You nodded and smiled. I'd love to" hear you whisper as Austin leaned closer and smiled. "I got you," he chuckled, kissing your cheek. He went over to the mini bar and poured the both of you a shot. As you got half way through the first bottle,.

You and Austin were talking about your lives now and reminiscing about the good old days. Those 20 minutes felt like forever, but you learned a lot about him. You learned he had a girlfriend, yet he remembered the day he wrote "mine" on your upper thigh so well.

This night was doomed from the start; you shouldn´t be here; he was taken, and this was wrong; no words could save this; he was drunk, and you were pissed. You sighed softly and got up. You walked over to the door and leaned against it. "I should go." You said soft enough that he could tell that you were hurt. As you looked up, he was walking over to you. "Angel," he said barely in a whisper as he looked into your soul with those striking blue eyes.

He made you look up at him as he took a hold of your chin. "Don't leave," he said barely in a whisper. "I just got my angel back,” he mumbled as his eyes fell down on your lips, and he started leaning in closer and closer until you felt his soft lips on yours. The kiss was rough but sweet. Was this your goodbye kiss? You thought to yourself.

One night, after that, you go your way, and I´ll go my way, you said, and Austin nodded and picked you up. Kissing you again, he laid you down on the bed. He was so gentle with you, and the both of you were so drunk. You knew it was wrong, and so did he, but you loved him, and he loved you.

So one thing led to another, and you woke up in Austin in his arms the next morning. You looked around and sighed softly. "Shit" you muttered and looked over at Austin, who was sleeping peacefully. You got up carefully and took a quick shower before getting your clothes back on. 

You wrote him one last note before you grabbed your stuff and left his hotel. "I hope someday we´ll meet again—forever, your angel." that´s what she wrote.

He tried calling you; he tried finding your apartment, but there was no luck.

You knew one day you'd meet again because, a month after you slept together, you found out you were pregnant.

[luminouslywriting]

The Snow Stork (since several of you asked about the car and being snowed in haha)

Summary: In which a snowstorm leaves John Brady and his wife stranded in a snowbank and things get a little heated. Warnings apply and remember kiddos, I don't write full smut haha! Written in headcanon style! Feel free to keep sending me asks or requests! I'm having so much fun :) Also shoutout to @precious-little-scoundrel since she inspired some of the bones for this! 🥰🫡

-A Christmas Eve party for the adults only in the Brady Family was an annual thing. It was the best party of the year and consisted of all of the good adult fun that the children couldn't participate in—spiked eggnog, some spicy stories, dancing and kissing under the mistletoe, and a couples' gift exchange.

-Every year since John Brady first fell in love with you, you've dutifully gone. And in the last four years, your parents have lovingly volunteered to watch the three musketeers that are the Brady Bunch—a darling little girl known as Anna, a precocious three year old known as little John, and a sweet little two year old known as Michael.

-Three children in four years has kept you and John Brady BUSY with caring for the house, him working, and managing the little cookie monsters that just wanna hear their dad blast the saxophone (but really, who could blame them?)

-It's a rare thing when you two get the chance to go away together, even for a few hours. Fortunately for you two, you've mastered the art of quickies and learning how to be discreet with very nosy children in the house (who you of course adore).

-So it's after this party where John's hands have been lingering a little too long at the hem of your dress, maybe you've had a *little* too much of the eggnog, and maybe you're both feeling like giddy teenagers again (although you're really not that old haha) and the hour drive home seems to not be long enough.

-Maybe it's the way that the snow is falling just heavy enough and the windshield wipers can't keep up

-Maybe it's the way that there is certainly ice on the roads (though you've both seen and driven through worse)

-Maybe it's the way that you're still humming Sinatra under your breath and he finds that SEXY as HELL

-But John Brady, ever the practical and timely man that he is, he keeps glancing down at his watch and wondering how bad it would be to just pull off to the side of the road?

-After all, you haven't been gone that long and it's entirely possible that the roads could get worse

-And you're his most precious cargo so he needs to take care of you in every way 😌

-But he's glancing over at you every few minutes, right hand still entwined with your left hand

-And he knows that people have done much crazier things to get alone time with their wives

-So of course, he makes a suggestion about the roads being too bad to drive through at the moment and maybe you should pull off to the side of the road

-He's flown through worse and you both know it

-But neither one of you is complaining when he quickly places the car in park, just off the side of the road and near a stretch of trees

-After all, he can barely see the road. But you know what he can see? You

-So of course, he's taking the opportunity to sweetly kiss your hand and tell you that he's missed having alone time with you

-And then you're shivering (for more than one reason)

-That's the only invitation he needs

-After all, John Brady takes marriage more seriously than the damn war. If you're cold, that is his God-given responsibility and privilege to fix and help you with.

"Body heat is better than layers."

-So of course the next thing you know, he's ducking over into the passenger side of the car

-And for the first time in a LONG time, there's no kids to interrupt, no meal that's burning downstairs, no one calling you on the phone, and not a single work-call or piece of homework for him to grade

-The car has been lovingly christened the Brady-Maker since the conception of your first child but you're about to put that entire encounter to shame

-Lingering kisses and warm breaths, hands squeezing and massaging at flesh to keep the other warm, fingers slipping below waistlines and dresses, tights and garters are RIPPED, obscene gasps and moans are spilling from the car—and the car might be shaking a *little* too much from the flipping positions and fun that you two are having

-So it's really unfortunate that in the middle of your second orgasm of the night, neither one of you notices the fact that a bunch of snow has just fallen from the trees above and literally lands on the car. Not just once. Not just twice. But several times.

-When he's removing his belt and attempting to position himself right in the dark, it's at this unfortunate cock-block of a moment that he realizes that the snow has indeed solidly built up around the car.

-So try as the two of you might (and you certainly try), the car is well and good stuck and there's just no way to get out of the car or to even attempt to get to anywhere with a phone until the snow has let up or morning has arrived.

-It's very fortunate at this point that you were already so proficient and skilled at conserving body heat by doing some *ahem* active martial activities

-Because what else are you supposed to do? Sit there and cuddle? Nah, that's not for you or for him

-Of course, your parents are wildly panicking—because you two were supposed to be home HOURS ago

-But you know what? Neither John Brady or you is about to miss the chance to have some alone time, because who KNOWS when that could happen again? And for a whole night? It's really just science and common sense at this point and it's a real sacrifice that he's making by making love to you in that car.

-When you two finally show up, hours later in the mid-morning, the next day—your hair still messy and makeup certainly ruined (and missing tights and garters on top of it all), and he looks like he's just had the best night of his life—

-Is it really any wonder that this is how Brady Child #4 came into existence?

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Don't knock it till you try it

Masterlist

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)

Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...

Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.

A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.

Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.

Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.

As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.

“We’re hungry,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!

Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!

“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.

“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.

Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.

Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.

“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.

“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.

“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.

“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.

Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.

A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.

“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.

“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”

As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.

“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.

“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.

The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.

“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.

What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.

Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.

“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.

“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.

As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.

“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?

“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.

By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?

It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.

The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.

Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!

As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.

To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…

“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.

Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.

Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.

“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.

Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.

Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.

“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘

Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.

“So, who do we say got her first?”

“I’m asking for a do-over.”

“Because it was me?”

“We could just… Y’know…”

“Think she’d go for it?”

“What, both of us? My ex did…”

“But she was nuts.”

“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”

Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.

What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…

Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.

You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?

There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.

“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”

It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.

The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.

As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.

“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.

“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.

“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…

“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.

“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.

“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.

“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”

“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.

“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.

“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.

“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.

“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.

“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…

Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.

The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.

Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.

“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”

“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…

“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.

“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.

“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.

For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.

Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.

Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.

“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.

“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.

“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.

“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.

Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.

“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.

It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.

Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.

Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.

“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.

Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.

Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.

“Would you just...”

“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”

“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.

“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.  

The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.

“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.

“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?

You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”

“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.

“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.

Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming­, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.

In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.

“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.

“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.

“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…

“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”

You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.

Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.

Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.

“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.

“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.

“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.

Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?

“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.

“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…

Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.

The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.

You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”

Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.

Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.

“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…

A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.

“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”

For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.

Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…

“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…

“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.

The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…

For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.

“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.

You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.

It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”

The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?

“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”

“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Girl now I need a one-shot of free-use with Charon. Like imagine just getting bent over one of those random abandoned picnic tables or waking up with him in your tent/room. Hnsnxcbbfsbxb I need to go lay down-

When Lightening Strikes

Pairing: Charon x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,724

Warnings: smut (18+), dubcon, free use kink, size difference, no real foreplay/poor preparation, rough sex, creampie, very brief aftercare, established relationship.

Notes: Charon fans, please enjoy this little appetizer that will hopefully tide you over until the already-9,000 word virgin reader fic I have for him is completed some time next month. Thank you for the ask, Anon, and thanks for your patience! Something short and sweet from me, for once; this one's straight up PWP, folks.

For an absolutely hulking mountain of a man, your bodyguard and companion moved in surprising silence when he chose to. True, neither of you would have called stealth a particularly strong skill of his if asked, but in moments of need, he could be serviceably quiet for a man of his hulking stature. Despite this, it still unsettled you a bit how he was able to teleport right into your bubble sometimes.

Or maybe it only seemed that way because you'd been all but completely asleep when he quietly made his way into your tent.

The two of you had stopped to make camp earlier in the evening than you usually did, attributable to the sickly green radstorm that could be seen rolling up along the horizon from some distance. Personally, you felt just fine walking through the less-intense storms, provided you were adequately covered up and had a few Rad-X capsules to pop, but your bodyguard refused to allow it, insisting that you take cover the moment the first rumble of thunder rolled through the air.

Choosing the most intact crumbled building around, what seemed like it had been some sort of storefront in another era, you set to erecting the little pup tent you carried around with you, tucked away in the corner under the intact portion of the floor above, granting you a sort of double roof. You were pleased, as Charon was prone to griping and moving your whole setup if your tent got wet. Besides, it would be unpleasant to be awoken by the leaking, irradiated rain falling on you.

You took the Rad-X anyway, just to be safe.

While you worked, the massive man began his typical routine of inspecting the area, searching high and low for any potential traps or threats. When he was satisfied that the two of you were safe and alone, he built a small fire, picking a very large rock out of the rubble scattered around and dragging it to just outside your tent. You shook your head gently. Every night was the same; he'd sit and keep watch, cleaning and maintaining that riot shotgun he loved so much, or maybe one of his other weapons, while smoking like a chimney. Many times you'd offered to share your tent or take watch yourself so he could get some rest, offers that went unaccepted time and time again. He didn't rest, as a rule of thumb; that was quite clear.

He had, however, recently taken to visiting you at night sometimes, when the conditions were just right.

You never knew how to predict when it would happen, despite studying him and his habits almost too closely over the last several weeks. All you knew was that when he wanted sex with you, he took it, and something about that gave you a thrill that you were actively chasing, even now. If you couldn't initiate, never really knowing when he was in the proper mood, maybe you could inspire the mood and hope for the best.

Once your tent was fully erected, you toed off your boots and set them in the corner beside your laid out bedroll before poking out, your nipples already pebbling from the slight chill in the air.

"I'm turning in now if you don't need anything." you said, knowing full well he would never ask for anything from you. "I'll see you in the morning. Maybe we can hit the road a little early to make up for having to stop early today."

With that, you allowed yourself the familiar gesture of saddling up beside him, pressing the length of your body against his side as you leaned in and gave him a little peck on the cheek. He didn't respond much, save for a glance towards you as he briefly paused whatever he was doing with the disassembled rifle in his hands. That little pause and sideways glance was more of a reaction than you were typically able to get out of him, however.

It was because of this that you were unsurprised, though still a bit confused with the fog of unconsciousness, when he appeared in the small space, a large part of his body undoubtedly exposed as he loomed at the entrance of the ratty tent. He didn't say anything as you slowly regained your bearings, simply sitting there studying you where you laid on your thin bedroll, the only sound the tip-tapping of the light rain on the building's bones.

"Mmh? What's wrong?" you called into the dark, heart already racing in your ears, only able to make out the vague shape of him there, relaxing incrementally as he crawled towards you in the small space until he sat at your feet.

"Want you." he said simply, massive hands gripping your thighs and yanking your entire body forward, closing the small remaining gap between you. Your legs rested along his as he kneeled over you. He didn't say anything more, pulling away the jacket you'd been using in lieu of a blanket, his touch roaming over your clothed torso and crotch. He was funny like that, rather flowery and loquacious from time to time, spitting out memorized lines, but shifting into truncated, simple speech when he had to respond in earnest, like it made him uncomfortable to do so.

"Is it safe?" you breathed, body squirming unconsciously as he moved to unbuckle your pants and undo your fly with surprising deftness. You were unsure what it was about this particular camping spot that made him feel more reassured than any of the others, but you trusted his judgment; he always protected you very capably, though whether it was because he truly wanted to or because you "held" his contract (in the most literal sense), you were sometimes unsure.

No answer came for your question, of course, only him jamming his hand between your now bare-to-the-knee legs, playing with your swelling cunt roughly as the other one busied itself undoing his belts, the weathered metal of the buckles clinking and tapping along one another as he did.

"Ahh!" you exclaimed at the feeling of his calloused fingers on the most delicate parts of you, wriggling in his grasp unconsciously as he stroked and prodded your clit, slipping his fingers up your shirt to pinch and tug at your nipples.

"Shh." he responded calmly, pulling himself over top of you completely and placing his lips to your throat, butting your head out of the way with his own and inhaling your smell deeply. The vibrations in your ear buzzed down your spine and made you clench and whimper, only fueling him further.

Seemingly satisfied with how wet you were, he grabbed your rather dirty bottoms by the ankles and jerked them the rest of the way off your legs, discarding the grimy article off somewhere to the side. Your still-socked feet slid up his broad, rough chest as he yanked you even closer, your ass riding up high on his muscled thighs as you felt him wrestling with his fly. You'd yet to actually see his cock, or touch it with your hands; the only times you felt it were moments like this, where he brushed you softly as he moved into position. You weren't sure if you believed it was possible that he was as big as he felt.

Your whole body tensed as he slid inside, most of his length parting you quick and hard, knocking the air out of you so thoroughly you couldn't even cry out. Nonetheless, he covered your mouth with his hand as he pulled back, giving one or two shallow thrusts before fully burying himself to the hilt. The hot shock of the sudden stretch was enough to force you to find your voice, your whines filtering through your nose as he began to fuck you.

He was always so quiet at times like this, even moreso than usual even if that genuinely didn't seem possible. You found it nearly impossible to stay completely quiet once he began touching you, even your breathing becoming louder and more dramatic. He, however, didn't seem to hardly breathe at all, like he was still listening for any unexpected sounds outside of the tent, a piece of his mind always firmly focused on monitoring for danger.

It ended rather quickly, but you weren't surprised; nothing about the way he was moving, the harsh way he plucked at your clit and pounded away at you with a great deal of his body weight, communicated that he was trying to prolong things. He let out an incredibly short little grunt as his strokes lost their rhythm, slamming himself as deep as possible as he came, pulsing strongly against your cervix and coating the back of your throat with the taste of electricity.

Your lover didn't pull away from you instantly as he usually did, though, letting himself linger in the crook of your neck, this time actually laying a few soft, simple kisses there as his fingers began to move in smoother, softer circles around your clit once more. His ministrations sent you squirming and mewling, still caged beneath him; he cupped your sweaty face and slipped the tip of his thumb into your mouth to silence you. It didn't take long for him to finish you off, sending you shuddering and clenching around his cock as you lost yourself, curling up against his chest as he rumbled, pleased-sounding.

After you finished, however, he did pull away rather unceremoniously, leaving you panting and completely dazed as he retrieved your jacket out of the dark and tucked it over your uncovered lower half. Lying there disoriented, you drew the worn jacket back up in an attempt to combat the tremble that shook your entire being.

"Go back to sleep." he murmured, his tone neutral, but not indifferent as he slipped back out the tent's flap door. As the rain outside continued to patter over the crumbled city block, you could just barely make out the sound of a lighter striking. The last things you noted clearly before exhausted sleep took you once more, willing or no, was the gentle roll of thunder still electrifying the air, the warm leak of Charon's cum running down your inner thigh.

Next pit stop, he was going to owe you big time.

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

so you’re taking requests. . . 😳 how do we feel about a fic with Luz just being a biiig softie? he’s such a wiseass all the time, I’d love to see your take on him maybe being more vulnerable and relaxed and emotional in an x reader if you’re up for it (I love the way you were able to characterize Liebgott in your most recent fic) <3 fluff, angst, smut or any other angle you’d wanna go with, totally up to you!

In her arms - George Luz x F!Reader

Okay, so I had already had an idea like this in my drafts and squealed when I read your request! I really, really hope I did him justice and this is what you want/like! If you want a redo please let me know! <3 Please enjoy @littleyankspitfire :)

Summary: George accompanies Malarkey into town after the bombing in Bastogne, needing to see Reader before he entirely falls apart.

Warnings: angst, mentions of war/death/violence, cursing, George is a frazzled mess and just needs to be held, fluffy ending.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I was going to make this have smut but the more I wrote the more I just wanted him to be cuddled and loved. George deserves so much. Might think of a way to do a part 2 with some lovin' for our boy. I hope y'all enjoy this! Please comment, like, reblog <3 <3 <3

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George and Malarkey entered the medic tent like zombies. Neither speaking, just going off of some internal compass pointing them towards their desired destination. Malarkey veers off to the right where Buck is laying on a cot, his eyes as vacant as theirs. George wanders up and down the rows, looking for a familiar face but starts to lose hope when he comes up short. Eventually he gently grabs the arm of a nurse walking by.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone." He gives her name and waits.

"Who's asking?" She gives him a skeptical stare and straightens her back.

"I'm George Luz with Easy Company. We're friends." He watches as she relaxes.

"Oh, I've heard of you. She's suppose to be resting for a few hours. Down the road on the left, third building, second floor, first door on the right." She gives him a quick smile and then hurries off in the direction she was originally going.

George follows her direction and soon enough, he's in front of the door. Two deep breathes later and he gives a sharp knock. He waits a beat and then knocks again, calling out to her. There's sounds of movement inside the room and then the door is pulled open. For a moment George feels guilty, having obviously disturbed her much needed nap, but the way he feels like he can finally breathe after seeing her chases the guilt away.

"Hey doll." He tries for his usual upbeat greeting but it comes out almost painful. Her eyes scan his face, a deep frown forming.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but doesn't know what to say. Everything is wrong. Physically I'm fine but everything else is hurt. Before he can finish his thought, his vision is blurred with tears and a quiet sob escapes. As the next one slips out, he's partially falling/being pulled into her arms and maneuvered to the bed.

She situates them so that her back is against the headboard with him draped half on her and half on the bed, head on her torso as more sobs rack his body. The scene is enough to make her own eyes mist over. This isn't the George she knows; he's always the optimistic one with a quick joke or wisecrack to push the darkness away and bring a smile to everyone's faces. Having him cling to her like she's a lifetime and he's drowning makes her worry that this war has finally taken the last bit of light from someone she never thought would lose it. And that terrifies her.

Instead of pressing him to speak, she lets him purge his emotions out while running her fingers through his hair and offering soothing sounds. Eventually his tears start to slow and he focuses on evening out his breathing. She keeps running her fingers through his hair, letting him decide if he wants to talk or not. When he does start to speak, his voice still holds a quiver but the longer he talks, the stronger it becomes. He talks about everything that happened; how what happened with Buck, Guarnere and Toye was still fresh and effecting the company, that the bombings that just happened killed Much and Penkala right in front of him, how if he'd made it to their foxhole he would have been killed, how him and Lipton nearly did die and were only saved by a faulty wire in the bomb that landed right in front of them.

As he spoke, her heart broke again and again over his loses (hers too as she was also friends with this men) and her anxiety grew as he told her about his not once, but twice back to back near death experience. Being in the middle of a war you come to terms with the high probability that you will die, but holding someone and listening to their recount of it nearly happening is not something you can prepare for. Once he's done relaying everything, a heavy silence follows, both of them lost in their thoughts and feelings of the events.

Slowly, George lifts himself from laying on her, moving up on the bed so he's leaning back on the headboard next to her. He grabs one of her hands that is now in her lap and laces their fingers together.

"I thought of you." He keeps his eyes on their interlocked hands, running his thumb back and forth over her soft skin. He see's her turn her head to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you mean?" She asks when he doesn't look like he's going to continue.

"When I was looking at that bomb at my feet, waiting for it to go off and finish me. You hear of other people that go through near death experiences and they see their life flash before their eyes. That's what I thought was going to happen, that I'd see my family and hometown and family dog. I'd remember all the big and small things I did, things I'd forgotten about. But that didn't happen. Instead, all I could think about was you. How you always make me work for a real laugh from you but I usually get a playful smile and eyeroll, how your tongue peaks out of the corner of your mouth when you're focused on finishing a wrapping or stitch just right, how you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen especially covered in dirt, how I wanted to kiss you that night by the lake when I told you the moonlight in your hair made you look like a goddess but I was too scared." George turns his head to meet her eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?" She whispers.

"Because I'm scared in a different way now. I was scared of starting something when this war could take either of us away at any moment. But after that bomb, all I'm scared of is dying without ever knowing what we could have. Never being able to kiss or hold you like I want. Never telling you that...I love you." George turns enough to face her, maintaining eye contact as he slowly leans his head towards her. "Tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me I'm just losing my mind and I'll leave."

"I love you too, George. However long we have left on this Earth, I want us to be together." She squeezes his hand that was still holding hers and puts her free one on his cheek. The smile that breaks out across his face isn't his usual smirk or something goofy to get a laugh, but a true pure smile that warms her heart. Sending him a matching smile, she tilts her head up and closes the gap between their lips.

The kisses are slow and sweet, almost tentative. Neither of them wanting to break the small bubble of peach they'd crafted around themselves. As they keep up their light exploration of each others mouths, they shift lower onto the bed so they're laying on their sides, wrapped up in each others arms. She pulls back slightly, taking in his soft smile and sleepy eyes, and gives him a quick peck.

"Rest with me a little bit?"

"Long as I get to hold you." He kisses her lips again, then the top of her head before resting his his head on top of hers, holding her as close as possible against himself.

Just as he's drifting off to sleep, he thinks: this is how I want to die, wrapped up in her arms.

[paradiseprincesss]

hi!! if ur requests r still open could we get a fic w robert fischer based on deja vu by olivia rodrigo? like maybe reader and robert had like a summer fling but to her it felt like more ykwim 😭 ive kinda been in the mood for some angst lately LOL

btw i love ur fics i start tweaking a lil whenever u post 💀💞

do you get deja vu? | robert fischer

hi anon, first of all thank you! you're so sweet, i really hope you enjoy this & i apologize that it took me so long to post it. i don't know why but i kept revising this fic over and over again. i wanted it to live up to your expectations LOL.

summary: sometimes we don't realize how much things meant to us until we no longer have it.

warnings: smut, p in v, angst, lovers to strangers, robert fucks up lol and now he's forever sad, mdni 18+ only

word count: 2.3k

the city of malibu was breathtaking; every moment spent here was somehow better than the last — how could a place be so beautiful? as you sat in the passenger side of robert's brand new luxury vehicle, you took in the beauty that you were residing in, whilst robert was taking in the beauty of you.

you weren't totally sure how this whole thing happened — but god, did it mean everything to you.

robert had approached you in a bar while you were out with your girlfriends in the city, offering to buy you a drink. one look at his face and you were agreeing because honestly; who would turn down a man like him?

after your friends encouraged you to keep talking to the handsome stranger, who introduced himself as robert, you two just clicked. conversation flowed effortlessly between the both of you, and soon enough, the two of you were going on your first official date.

it was safe to say that robert had charmed you completely, he had you enamoured with him — infatuated, truly. he was a true gentleman, classy and organized, not to mention that he came from money. after a handful of very upscale, fancy, and luxurious dates, the two of you had began seeing each other regularly.

neither of you had put an actual "title," per se, on what you had going on between the two of you, but at this point in time — you didn't see the harm.

so that's the story of how you ended up in robert's luxury car, speeding down the roads of malibu whilst he took you on a weekend getaway here. far, far away from the city you two both resided in.

"i'm craving ice-cream," you said to robert while the two of you were stopped at a red light, "strawberry, specifically."

"what, like right now?" robert asked with a small chuckle, sighing as he admired your breathtaking beauty underneath the heat of the malibu sunshine.

"yes, like right now."

"okay, let's go get some then." robert decided, his baby blue eyes melting your heart as a smile tugged at his lips.

true to his word, robert drove the both of you to a nearby ice-cream shop, and got you your strawberry ice-cream — one spoon for two. that afternoon was spent sharing laughs, sweet kisses, and the strawberry ice-cream that you'd been craving.

even though robert came from money and had more than you'd ever thought someone could have, it wasn't his wealth and status that snagged your heart. it was him, just good old robert fischer. not his money, not his materialistic things, not his cars, no — just who he was.

robert was caring. he was so considerate, listened to you, and was always there for you when you needed him the most. it felt like he was yours, and you were his — and that's how things should've been.

that's how the story should have ended.

but you know what they say; all good things have to come to an end at some point.

"robert," you said breathlessly, "take this dress off of me, please."

"sweetheart," he whispered against your ear as he unzipped your designer dress, "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

"i love—" you paused, suddenly hyperaware of the words that were about to leave your mouth, "i love that you took me here."

you weren't sure if you should've said it — i love you, that is.

robert and you had been seeing each other for the entirety of the summer by the time he'd taken you to malibu, but again; to you it felt like more than a fling. you just weren't sure where he stood with this whole thing between you and him.

"anything for you, sweetheart. i'd do anything." robert replied softly, turning you around as he slipped you out of the dress.

stood in your lacy, white, la perla lingerie along with matching jimmy choo's and stockings (courtesy of robert, of course), you face him with a blush. "how does it look?" you ask shyly, to which robert smiles and sighs happily in bliss.

"you..." he whispered, trailing off for a moment, "you're just so perfect — how are you mine?"

"yours?"

"mine, and mine only, sweetheart. don't ever forget it."

you'd soon come to never forget it — just not in the way you'd hoped.

robert took your hand in his gently, guiding you to the huge, king-sized, luxurious bed in his miami penthouse. no hotels over here; this is robert fischer were talking about — he owned homes down here.

you found your way into his bed, laid up in the pile of silk pillows, as robert found his way between your legs with his hands wrapped up in your hair. he kissed you passionately with a hunger that you'd never seen from him before.

you took your time helping him out of his suit, being dainty and deliberate with your movements — maybe you felt like being a tease tonight. after you'd gotten him out of your clothes, your lacy bra was long gone, but his hands wandered down to the scrunched lace of your underwear.

"may i?" robert asked sweetly, his eyes darting between your pretty face and perky breasts, causing you to blush profusely.

"y-yes," you whimpered, "i can't wait anymore."

"god, when you say things like that — i don't think i can either, sweetheart." robert groaned softly, finally pulling down your white lace panties.

up until this point — you and robert hadn't actually had sex yet. you thought it was sweet; special, even. you thought he really liked you, that he didn't want to sleep with you until you felt ready. obviously, you took this as a sign that he deeply cared about you as a person, in more than just a "fling" way.

as his cock stretched you open perfectly, you arched your back and let out a soft moan, as did he. he started to move in and out of your soaking cunt gently, truly taking the time to make sure you were enjoying this as much as he was.

his cock was thick — it had you feeling fuller than you'd ever felt before from previous partners, and it felt like his cock was made for you. with the way it stretched your pussy out perfectly, hitting every spot just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust he gave you.

"so beautiful," robert praised through gritted teeth, "and so tight, fuck."

"r-right there! mmph!" you moaned softly as his cock brushed up against that spongy spot inside of you, causing your cunt to clench around him.

"right there? is that it, sweetheart?" robert cooed, making you nod feverishly.

"yeah," you said breathlessly, "right — f-fuck! gonna cum!"

"thaaaat's it, my pretty girl. drench my cock so i can fill you up with my cum." he encouraged, causing you to see stars as you came around his length.

your pretty little noises pushed robert over the edge a minute or two later, his hips snapping into your cunt as he fucked his cum into you. as you looked up at robert, he had a small smile on his face and his cheeks were dusty. you returned the smile, and he sighed as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in his embrace tightly after he'd pulled out.

he whispered your name to you softly, causing you to stare up at him with admiration and love. "yeah?" you say softly, intertwining your hands with his as the two of you cuddled in between the sheets.

"i never want you to leave," he said, voice saccharine, "you mean so much to me, sweetheart."

"i—" you stammered, unsure if this was a good time to say it; but you figured it would be. especially after what he'd said to you, after the way he made love to you. "i love you, robert."

you smiled to yourself, but frowned when you realized you were just living in a memory — something that only existed in the past now. reality hit you like a freight train as you were brought back to your current situation; in the same bar you'd met robert at once months ago.

you weren't in miami with him anymore — you didn't even know who he was anymore; perhaps just a fragment of your past. you hadn't spoken since the end of august when the both of you had gotten back from your weekend getaway.

things had changed since then.

it was the middle of a bleak november evening, and the cold weather was depressing. summer had left as quickly as it had come.

"are you okay?" your friend asked as you sipped on your martini, looking as beautiful as ever — but for nobody in particular anymore. "that's your third drink, you sure you there's not something you want to talk about?"

"actually, there is," you say, turning to her as the two of you sat in a secluded little table in the corner of the bar, "doesn't she look familiar?"

as you pointed across from you, your friends eyes trailed along until they stopped at a woman who looked eerily similar to you.

she wore the same type of clothes that you did, down to the brand of high heels. her hair was the same colour as yours, so were her eyes, and not to mention she looked like she could be you if you didn't look too hard.

"looks like you found your doppelganger." your friend joked, nudging your arm but to her surprise, you didn't laugh — nor did you come close to even cracking a smile. "are you sure you're okay?"

"look at who she's with." you say bitterly, and your friend looked back at the woman to see that she was now accompanied by a man — a man who she knew as robert fischer.

at first, when robert walked into the bar on the crisp autumn night, you had to do a double take to make sure you were really seeing what you thought you had seen. once you'd confirmed it was him, you were about to grab your purse and drag your friend out of the bar with you — until you saw who he'd come with.

the woman hanging on his arm was a walking reflection of you; it was like everything was all reused. you silently hoped that maybe you weren't just another one of those girls who he pretended to care about; just saying whatever to get into their pants because they were just his type and nothing more.

but this woman couldn't just be his "type" — she was a mirror image of you.

"is that—?"

"yeah," you answered your friend, "it is."

"didn't he tell you that you guys couldn't see each other anymore because of his fathers passing?" she asked you, to which you nodded, throwing back the rest of your drink.

"i told him i loved him and he told me he didn't feel the same. after everything we did together and everything he said. after he called me his and his only — the thing with his father was just some excuse."

"what a piece of shit," your friend scoffed, "but it seems like he might still be thinking about you — i mean, it looks like he's looking for you in every other woman."

"do you think he gets deja vu when he's with her?" you suddenly ask, causing your friend to laugh softly.

"probably," she tells you, "i mean, who's to say he isn't going out with her just to feel like he has you again?"

"do you really think so?"

before your friend could answer your question, you heard your name being called as you both peered over at the sound. at first, your heart dropped because of the familiar voice that had called out your name — but when you looked over at him, you almost flatlined on the spot.

he hadn't even realized you were at the bar, and that's when it hit you — she even had the same name as you, which made everything ten times worse? or awkward? or weird?

"oh shit," your friend said with shock, "she has the same name as you, too. you can't tell me my theory isn't true now."

"my god." you whisper, feeling at a loss for words in this very moment as you watched the two of them together.

he had his arm wrapped around her waist the same way he used to do with you, but the way he looked at her was completely different. there was something missing in his once lively, baby blue eyes — he seemed so blank. like he was there but also, he wasn't really.

you overheard fragments of their conversations; they were talking about the songs you two used to listen to together, and he told her all about how those were "his favourite songs." you also heard him tell some familiar jokes — the same jokes you two used to laugh about.

back when he was yours for the time being.

"i'm going home, you coming?" you ask your friend, swallowing hard as you felt yourself become teary-eyed.

"yeah, yeah, i'm coming."

as you both made your way to the exit, you took one last look back at robert and his new girl, just to get one last glance — but when you looked back at him, he was already looking at you.

time stopped for a minute, and you'd sworn you'd never seen someone look so full of regret in all your years of living. every time you thought he was going to look away, he didn't. he continued to look at you as if you were otherworldly — as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing in that very bar.

but you reminded yourself of the heartache he caused you.

so, with a heavy heart, you walked out of the bar as you turned away from him, letting him relive the past and linger in the feeling of deja vu.

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