#maybe i should start using tone tags but i honestly only know like two and everything else is lost on me😔

[yandere-yearnings]

Hey don't to respond to this I just wanted to apoligize for often sending in asks for multiple ocs at a time. I keep forgetting that you have to tag it for all of them and put it in their respective masterlists...I'll tone it down from now on.

Btw! Love your new christmas theme! Merry (early) Christmas, Dar! ( ^ ▽ ^ )

-🦢

SWAN NONNIE NO DON'T SAY THAT😭😭 if there's one person i never wanna hear apologies from, it's you, bc seeing you in my inbox always brings a smile to my face without fail, it doesn't matter what you send🥺 ++ i always love your questions and the way you ask abt different ocs, you absolutely don't have to tone anything down!! it's not an inconvenience, i enjoy it😭 me tagging and sorting things into their masterlists is just unimportant admin stuff that i can leave and do in bulk later it really isn't strenuous or anything hhh

and thank you for liking the new theme👉👈 merry (early) christmas to you too swan nonnie, take care of yourself♥️

[verareids]

feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader

spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3

also posted on ao3

“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”

Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 

He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.

“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 

“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”

“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.

~

Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.

When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?

~

The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.

“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.

“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.

“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.

“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.

“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.

“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.

“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.

“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”

“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.

“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.

“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.

“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.

“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 

“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”

“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.

“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.

“You didn’t tell me either.”

“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.

“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 

You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Sweet Tooth (NSFW)

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, he absolutely is all over her, jokes about breeding and pregnancy, talk of oral (f receiving), Leon’s fingers go places, swearing probably.

Words: 530 (v short, I just wanted to get SOMETHING out for you guys)

A/N: So I saw these Eating HCs today for Leon from @ichigo-dream and I was obsessed. I didn’t have a whole lot of time as most of my writing power has been dedicated to 3 fics I am SO excited about; but yeah! A lil something!

Also my requests are open, it may just take some time for me to get to things! ❤️

*gif not mine. Found on Tenor*

Days like these? These are the best kinds of days. Leon’s home, wrapped up in some kind of paperwork on the couch, but he’s home. I pull the tray of cupcakes out of the oven, dreading frosting them for this stupid party my cousin was hosting. Thankfully, I don’t have to stay at said party, but having to make 4 dozen cupcakes all within a few hours is frustrating to say the least.

“Ah no!” I yell as I turn to see Leon eyeballing one of the cupcakes. “Absolutely not!”

“Why? Just one?” He pleads, a slight pout on his gorgeous features and I roll my eyes.

“Sorry babe, but I am only making enough to send with Kim.” It may have been a bit mean to only make enough for what she needs, knowing about the agent’s overwhelming sweet tooth, but it honestly slipped my mind when I started them this morning. I turn to grab the piping bag when I hear a low whistle from Leon. “What’s up, agent?”

“I didn’t know you owned shorts like that.” When I finally look back over my shoulder, his blue eyes are locked on my ass, the bottoms of my cheeks spilling out of the bottom.

“They’re just at-home-shorts. Not like I wear them anywhere.” Do not tell him what your best friend dubbed these shorts. I begin piping green frosting onto the soft cake, but as soon as I lift the tool away, a hand slaps quickly over my ass and I gasp. Leon’s strong arms wrap around my waist, tugging me against what I can tell is a speedily rising erection.

“You gotta change outta those shorts, Princess, or they’ll be around your ankles by lunch.” His husky tone sends a chill down my spine as my back arches on it’s own accord, his hot breath tickling my ear.

“Don’t you have work to do?” I tease, trying to draw his attention elsewhere.

“I did. But then I smelt something sweet in here that I’m apparently not allowed to have.” Soft lips pepper kisses along the column of my throat before his teeth lightly sink into the flesh. “So I need to find another snack.”

“Leon, baby, I only have a couple more hours to finish these,” I argue, but it’s no use, his fingers sliding into the elastic band of the shorts and pushing them to the ground. Wrapped around my ankles.

“Well, maybe my girl should have thought about that before she went teasing me with these sexy little shorts.” He presses his hand down to cup my sex through my panties before he clearly has a realization. “Wait, are these the shorts your friend called the ‘get me pregnant’ shorts?” My cheeks heat up as two of his fingers rub teasing circles over my clit through my panties.

“It was a joke, babe,” I mutter, head dropping back to rest on his shoulder at the stimulation.

“Well, joke or not, now you have a choice.” Oh god, what is this little shit planning? “You can let me ‘get you pregnant’ or you can let me get my sugar fill by letting me eat this sweet little pussy.”

Fuck. Tough choices.

*****

Tags: (tag list is open)

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv

Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22

[lunarfleur]

Earth 42! Miles Morales Datings Hcs

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin

Warnings:Mentions of his job as the prowler

A/N: I’m literally in love with him help

This is x gender neutral reader!

This boy is not your sugar daddy. Be fr.

Does he have extra cash? Yeah.

But he’s not your sugar daddy. That is a child.

He’s honestly not that different from Earth 1610! Miles, he’s just been through a lot more shit

He’s still a dork, deep down.

But let’s get the inevitabilities out of the way

Spanish nicknames, for sure. I don’t speak Spanish, but it’d just be the ones everyone in the community thinks he would use 😭

As well as baby and babe.

This boy is a hugger in every universe

He would never openly say, “I need a hug.” But, he’d pull you in or bury his face in your neck

It gets the point across

I think for both versions of Miles, he keeps his room clean for you

His mom always gets on him for it, so it’s just habit to have his room clean

Picking up any and all dirty clothes, vacuuming, dusting, that kind of thing.

It’s typically clean anyways, but he makes sure it’s as clean as possible for you

Movie nights whenever he doesn’t get called into work. You’re tucked against him. One arm is around your shoulder, the other hand is rested comfortably on your thigh.

This boy loves loves loves forehead kisses, both giving and receiving

A lot of times he gives them as apologies

He couldn’t make a date, so he’s kissing your forehead after kissing your lips and apologizing so so genuinely

But you give him one? He’s dying.

You’re in his lap, and you just *mwah?*

He’s a goner

Let’s be honest, he’s young and in love. You make him excited.

Make out sessions are both common and enjoyable

He knows not to take too far, of course, but he can’t help but love on you

But make outs are never for public

He’s not ashamed of PDA, but he doesn’t think anyone else should see something so intimate.

But he’ll kiss you, hold your hand, leave his arm around your shoulders, and basically all the other toned down displays of affection

The only people that are afraid of him are the ones who have caused problems with him

He’s lived in New York all his life. A lot of kids know him. A lot of kids know that he just changed after he lost his dad

The ignorant ones start fights with him. The ignorant ones lose fights with him.

Because this boy can scrap

He’s not really some big, bad bully who runs his school or whatever

He sticks to being a loner, with the exception of you.

He still maintains good grades and behavior and all that

He doesn’t really get in trouble for fighting because he’s never the one who starts it

It’s self defense, you know?

There’s only 3 people in his life that he genuinely cares about: You, his mom, and his uncle.

Of course, he wants you to meet them

So he brings you home one day

And, luckily for you, they’re both easy to get along with

But he’s okay with not meeting your family

If you don’t want him to, he doesn’t have to

Fights with him go one of two ways, depending on the severity of the situation.

A:It’s a very serious, tense discussion. He doesn’t put any distance between you two, maybe holding your hand or keeping his knee touching yours. He speaks carefully and he listens to you.

This Miles doesn’t yell. Not at you, not at his mom, basically never.

B: You two give each other space. He makes sure you’re home safely, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, before giving both of you time to calm down and think everything over.

And then once you two are ready, you talk things over and he apologizes. This leads to soft make outs and/or cuddles.

But we all know he’s The Prowler

He’s not a villain, necessarily. He doesn’t kill people for the fun of it. He kills people who deserve it. Criminals, people who have genuinely hurt others.

He didn’t wait too long to tell you, actually.

It was only a month or two.

He liked you, genuinely, and it shocked him to his core. He knew his job would put distance between you two. He didn’t want that. Miles wanted things with you to go right.

He told you cautiously, and made sure to explain what he did and why.

It made sense, it really did. And he made sure to keep you away from it all.

It was hard to handle at first, but eventually you came to terms with it.

He was honestly terrified that you’d be scared of him. He’s still a kid, remember.

Sometimes, he gets called in and can’t make a date.

But Miles hates it and makes damn good sure he makes it up to you

He keeps tabs of everything he’s missed

He’s a sweetheart, honestly.

He gives you things, like gifts and his clothes and full access to his room

And he’s always making sure you’re in the best of moods

You’re crying? He’s doing everything he can to fix it.

Miles isn’t a bad boyfriend, it just takes some time to understand him.

[bratphilia]

I was talking about the step-father one! I honestly don’t have many ideas. except for maybe, if he lets his William side come out. so either a boy that the reader was talking to “goes missing” or hell, maybe even reader’s mom if she starts to get in the way?

ofc reader wouldn’t know who did it or anything, as William is careful with his killings. but yeah those are just ideas!! you don’t have to do them, just throwing them out there

taboo, pt. 2: blood on the tires (w. afton x reader)

note: here it is!! just decided to follow your first idea bc i dont know if yall wanna see your mom... well... so here we are.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: murder, stalking, spanking, 69 position, overstimulation, daddy kink

taglist: @iikyutee

"mmmmph!" you moan against steve's hand. it's slapped over your mouth to drown out any noises you make. for extra precautions, there's also a blanket covering the crack of the bottom of your door to ensure no noises escape the room.

steve is pounding into you. one of your legs is slung over his shoulder. it's like clockwork at this point. your mom is on the phone with her friend, so steve slipped into your room and pounded the living day lights out of you.

simple. 

when it's over and he's buckling his belt, you reach for your phone, suddenly engrossed in typing something. "who are you texting?" he asks in a genuinely playful tone.

"oh, just kai," you say mindlessly like you're supposed to know who you're talking about. 

"kai," he repeats. who the fuck is kai? something in his gut churns. he doesn't like it. he's never heard of him until now. "where did you meet him?"

your eyes never leave your phone. your lips quirk up slightly when a responding notification sounds. "he was my lab partner in bio-chem. asked for my number afterwards."

oh. so he's interested in you, is steve's takeaway. but he clenches his jaw and says nothing. instead he changes the subject:

"what do you want for dinner? or should we just order out?"

you both decided on ordering out, your mom wanted to make food, but two versus one, right? throughout dinner, steve is dead silent. his eyes stay on his plate. you and your mom are passively arguing about something, but all he hears is white noise. kai. he hasn't felt this blinded by rage since, well, he was still william. 

a chicken is trying to get in his coop. it wakes up the william side of him. and steve — william — hates it.

suddenly the sound of the kitchen table banging snaps him away from his thoughts. you're getting up, tears in your eyes. "fuck you!" you scream at your mom and stomp upstairs.

mom turns to steve for support. "she's just so immature."

"i agree, honey," he muses. 

but don't worry, he'll be there to pick up the pieces later, when mom's asleep and when you should be too. but you're waiting for him to sneak in your room. you always are. his darling girl. 

you wake up the next day, hoping to feel steve's arms wrapped around you and his face buried in the crook in your neck, just like the position the two of you are always in after another one of your midnight sessions. but he's not there. you never got used to his abandonment of you, but you're forced to understand why. 

you don't come out of your room the next day. you can't face your mother and her fake apologies. you feel sick to your stomach with hunger, but you just stare at the wall and wait for steve to come back. part of your arrangement is an unspoken truce; a mutual understanding that the two of you are in each other's corner, as cheesy as that sounds.

steve does come back, but it's around one in the morning. he comes in, positive you're awake — because of the sound of music coming from your laptop — only to find you sound asleep. then he notices something.

your phone. he remembers last night. 

steve scrolls through your text messages with kai. he invited you to go to the movies and then his house to study — probably where a disgusting man-child like him would try to put his hands on you — but much to steve's dismay, he said he would give you his address during class tomorrow. 

fuck. steve would have to wait to strike until after your class tomorrow, meaning he'd have to find a way to take you so he knows where to go. he can manage that.

everything goes according to plan. he's able to convince you let him take you to school, despite the suspicious quirk of your brow. he doesn't leave the campus. instead, how does he pass his time? well, let's just say he uses some of the pictures he's taken of your naked, post-sex body, are put into good use. 

he's parked from an angle so that he can get a good look at the students that come rolling out of the building and to the parking lot. 

steve spots you as you walk out of classroom, talking with a boy that he recognizes from the photo you set as kai's profile picture. as the two of you part ways, you head to the parking lot where you thought steve would be waiting to pick you up at. instead, steve drives around, following kai's trail until he's alone. 

it's just too easy. as kai is walking across the street, steve simply revs his engine and speeds forward, slamming the poor bastard's body against the front of his car. and then, for good measure, he backs up, feeling the tires elevate as the run over his body. steve just can't contain his smile. 

he pulls back up to your meeting spot to find you sitting on a bench on your phone. a sick part of him hopes you're trying to reach kai. steve honks the horn, grabbing your attention. you climb into the car and inquire, "what's wrong with the front of your car?"

"drove into some mud awhile back."

thankfully, you drop it, engrossed in your phone once more. once you're back home, mom's at work, meaning the two of you have time to do whatever you want until she comes home. the both of you decide on watching a movie that ends with his body on top of yours, slamming his hips into you while you practically scream.

steve is glad things worked out this way.

the day that you were planning on going to the movies with kai approaches and steve can barely contain his excitement. he has plans for how he'll handle your disappointment when you come home. 

it's been about two hours since you left. steve can only imagine you waiting at the mall growing more and more impatient as the time goes by. when he hears the telltale sound of the door slamming and a loud slam, he smiles knowingly. 

"what's wrong, honey?" he calls, approaching you from the kitchen.

immediately, you look tearful. "he stood me up..."

"who did?"

"kai!" you shout, louder than intended. 

oh, so you want to act like a brat, do you? he fakes an angry look. "don't use that tone with me." this should be good. 

a tear slips down your cheek and you wipe it with the back of your hand. "'m sorry. just upset."

"you're sorry, what?" 

you practically perk up. you know damn well what's coming next, too. "i'm sorry, daddy." 

steve smiles — smirks, actually, and saunters towards you. he lifts you chin to look at him with one hand and the other is put on your shoulder. "you don't need to mess with boys like kai when you have a man like me in your life."

you nod slowly. he's right after all. all steve had to do was eliminate the option for you to make the right decision. 

then he drops his hands, looking at you with authority and pulls you into the room that your mom and him sleep in. "you do know what happens to brats, right?"

"but daddy, i was just —"

"none of that," he scolds you and moves to sit at the end of the bed. "bend over my lap."

blood rushes to your face. he's going to punish you like a child, and for some reason, it increases the heat already pooling in your stomach. you promptly slip out of your leggings and do what he says, embarrassed. he has you so your ass is in the air.

steve smooths over the soft skin and pulls and tugs at your thong, letting it snap against your skin and earning a jolt from you. "did you wear these for him."

"no daddy," you whine. "only you."

"good girl," he praises, but he doesn't quite believe you.

he starts delivering smacks to your ass, causing high pitched whines to tumble from your mouth uncontrollably. the blows are inconsistent both in speed in between slaps and harshness, always keeping you on the edge for what happens next. he spanks you fifteen times (he made you count and thank him after each one) until he decides you've had enough.

he pulls your underwear to the side and dips a finger inside your wet pussy. "poor baby, so needy for daddy," he coos.

"yes," you moan, wriggling against him.

he situates you so that you're upright on his lap. you cock your head curiously. "i want to try a new position. want you to suck my cock while i eat your pussy." you rub your thighs together in anticipation. it's a position you've only seen in porn, so this was exciting to you.

steve sheds the rest of his clothes off and lays on the bed, beckoning for you to lay on top of him. once again, the lewd position makes you blush. you cage his neck with your thighs and face his cock. you make the first move, licking up and down the shaft. you give a guttural moan when a swipes a long lick up your center. you can't help but pull your mouth off and stare back at him.

"keep goin,' baby," he gruffly tells you and you try your best to continue.

it's proven much more easy for steve to eat you out than it is for you to suck his dick. he seems completely unshaken to your ministrations, leaving you confused if this is even pleasurable for him at all, meanwhile you're trying your hardest to keep yourself together as he eats you out.

steve smothers his face into your cunt, moaning like it's more arousing than you sucking him off. one particularly harsh suck on your clit has you gushing on his face. it doesn't matter if you've come already, he just keeps going. you try your best to keep a pace of stroking him while sucking on the tip but it just ends with you only being able to kitten lick all around him.

he shakes his head into your pussy, giving you a nice feel of his beard, and you're close again. "ah! steve!" you cry.

then he stops. "what's my name, baby girl?"

"d-daddy," you correct yourself. and he grunts against your clit, making you come all over again.

the stimulation is too much at this point. you try to move away from his body but his strong hands have such a firm grasp on your ass that renders you practically immobile. you can feel the rim of his glasses rubbing against your clit as he shakes his head. "daddy, please — ah — s' too much.."

the only response he gives is a growl into your cunt as he begins to thrust that long tongue inside of you, effectively making you come for the third time on his face. that's when he decides you've had enough. he guides you so that you roll over next to him on the bed.

"you didn't finish," you say with a pout.

"didn't want to," he says, staring up at the ceiling. "just wanted to make you feel better."

[michictaa]

🗝️ – IT'S ALWAYS X AND Y, BUT WHY NOT U AND I?

"I'm serious about the word "I love you". If ever you don't think so, love me, because it's only u and i in this world.”

pairing : Wirth Madl x Reader

tags : childhood friends, fluff, more fluff, kissing (idk what else), academic trauma (LMAOOOOO), Wirth having a soft spot for you🫶

wc : 1,084

author’s note; I love him so much so much, I’m just gonna leave this here. I love him (art by @/rrokii42, their art is insanely crunchy!!)

“Checkmate, I win again.” Wirth snickered as you were left speechless, it was the third game of the night, lasting for 30 minutes per chess session. You were left bewildered. “And I wasn’t even taking it seriously, I was already giving clues. Are you really this bad or is it naturally because I’m better than you?,” He boasts once again. “I’m not that bad! It’s just that you have way more experience! Plus are we always just gonna play chess, the night’s still young.” you told him about it. Tilting his head, Wirth asked what exactly were you implying “Well, what do you even want to do?” “I don’t know, you decide.”

You and Wirth have been good friends for a while, simply because of your families having an amazing relationship. He knew all about you. You knew about him. He was always there for you during the times you were down or just couldn’t take it anymore, and so were you for him. People were honestly wondering why you two weren’t dating yet, and you did not know how to answer that question. You liked him so much, it was killing you. But you play it off pretty well, because he didn’t recognize it yet. He seemed so oblivious to you— wrong. He likes you so much. He visits you everyday at your dorm just to play chess with you because he likes your presence and he’ll never forget how your defeated face looks . He thinks it’s cute. He’ll also pretend not to get a math lesson just so you teach him for a few minutes straight because he likes hearing your voice, pulling you with that “I still don’t get it” card so you teach him all about it again so he hears your voice more. He also likes it when you comfort him, a lot. So much that he’ll keep his tears out of sight and once he’s with you— he starts crying. Because it was what he was used to growing up with you.

So it was safe to say that you both are oblivious to each other— not knowing what you two truly felt together. Wirth ultimately loves you, and so do you. But… You always sought ways for him to “like you back”. From anonymous letters, to sending him corny math jokes, bringing him lunch, showing your forbidden collection. It was already clear. A few days ago, Wirth read one of the jokes written on a piece of paper saying, “It’s always x and y, why not u and i?” Wirth was about to burst out laughing from what he just read till you ran at him like a mad gremlin, “Gimme that!” you snatched the paper from him as he burst out laughing while reading it once again. “Why so mad? I mean it was pretty funny after all, corny most of it.” Wirth chuckles at you, a blushing mess right now. You did try, but he made a laughing stock out of it— so you thought. He thinks to himself, why should he keep his feelings from you when the message is clear— you like him; too.

So, Wirth decides to visit you— a Friday night of all nights. Doing your usual, playing chess and eating sweets. Yet this night was different from all the others, you offered to do something else; new, Wirth thinks to himself. Nevertheless, he agreed. You were getting predictable anyways. He would do anything just to find another game to play with you rather than chess.

“Alright, let’s play something else.” Wirth concludes. “What else is there to play rather than chess? It’s literally the only thing we know how to play…” You sighed, he responded to you with a mundane tone. “Let’s just talk, maybe you know… Let it all go?” you chuckled at his words. “Maybe, it’s better than chess…” you smiled at him, Wirth sighed as he lay down on your bed. “Hey! I didn’t allow you to sleep on my bed!” you protested. “Your bed feels more comfortable. I can feel it…” “I don’t take excuses for granted, Wirth. Now get outta my bed ....”

“You already know that my dad’s mean, Wirth— why’d you gotta remind me?” you sighed as he responded, slightly chuckling, “Well, it just came to my mind, nothing special really.” He slowly moved closer to you, as his face was literally inches away from yours, he mumbled “You’re nothing like him. You’re nothing like anyone— at all. When dad used to play favorites on me and my brother, who did you like better?” “You, obviously. He kinda acts like a robot though..” you said jokingly. “But, Wirth. Just saying, no offense to him though.” Wirth bit his tongue, then suddenly laughed. “See, I knew you liked me better. Honestly, I hoped you did.” He chuckles, “This is getting insanely boring now. I want to do something.” He gestures himself closer to you. “Do you want to kiss?” He asked without hesitation. “What the heck? Are you out of your mind..?” You raised your eyebrow. “It’s to ease boredom! I swear I’m not gonna say anything after.” he responded. “Well, if it can ease boredom…”

You don’t know how you landed in this situation. Wirth was kissing you, you were seated on his lap with your arms over his shoulders. His lips brushed against yours as you two were trying to catch your breaths as you were entangled in your heated kiss. His lips felt like soft silk against yours as you felt a soft tickle on your nose. He pulled away after a while, then chuckled. “You truly love me, don’t you? Because I love you, so much.” You responded with a simple smile, more than enough for him. “I love you too, Wirth Madl.” You gleamed with joy.

"I'm serious about the word "I love you". If ever you don't think so, love me, because it's only u and i in this world.”

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Switch

Summary: Taylor and Nick are having tons of fun getting paid to make out with each other. Maybe too much because it translates into after hours work, but.. WAIT YOU BOTH WANT TO TOP?

(18+) Kinks/Tags: RPF, dirty talk, fingering, orgasm, oral sex, (a little) rough oral sex, desperate kisses, trying to out top, slutting, penetration, so many banters, Nick top, Taylor top, WAIT TWO TOPS?, Two tops.

This is a Taylor x Nick smut fic, for fun, not a weird ship thing just some sexy mental imagery. Enjoy!

Neither of them knew how it happened, not that it was close to on their minds right now. It was after a long day on set, Taylor had come to Nick’s hotel room. The two had dinner, and drinks, and as per usual at least four banters. Come to think of it now, maybe the drinks had something to do with it. But it was only a few drinks to unwind, surely that couldn’t be responsible for this? Responsible for the way Nick was straddling Taylor’s lap, grinding against the other man, hands tangled in Taylor’s hair in a way that thanks to this movie, had become familiar. Their lips were crushed together, were either of them even breathing? That was up for debate, all that was coming from either were soft sighs, hums, desperate gasps for air. Taylor’s hands moved down the other man’s back now; sliding down and grabbing Nick’s hips. Large hands applying a firm pressure, guiding the way Nick moved, like trying to shift the haphazard desperate grinding into something more fluid. “You are kind of a slut aren’t you?” Taylor was the one to break the silence, allowing both a reprieve to catch a breath. “Oh sorry, should I get off? Do you want me to stop?” Nick asked, but his tone was not even close to concerned, he knew the answer. “Also, a bitch,” Taylor added as he leaned his head back, feeling Nick’s full lips run along the length of his neck. “But also really hot,” that came out more like a moan as he felt Nick’s teeth bite at his throat. “I wouldn’t be such a bitch if you weren’t so unbearable.” The bottle blond defended, but it did come out as an accusation; especially the way he used two fingers to push at the other man’s chest. “Oh, so unbearable that you’re grinding on my dick like you’re actually getting something out of it?” Honestly, Taylor expected another banter out of that one, especially because he did his best impression of Nick’s ‘unbearable’. But it didn’t work, instead Nick just grinned quite like he knew something Taylor didn’t. “I am.” It came out almost sing song as he ran his hands over Taylor’s chest, lower now, tugging off the shirt that the other man had on. One quick motion tossed Taylor’s shirt aside as Nick dipped his head down, licking one long stripe up Taylor’s chest, up the side of his neck, before biting Taylor’s jawline. Just one little bite, but enough to make Taylor’s breathing shake, as if the lick hadn’t already left him short for words. “I love feeling you get so fucking hard under me,” Nick’s voice was soft, it sounded like a secret. His fingers slid down Taylor’s chest, and underneath himself, sitting up on his knees just enough to let his hand wrap around the other man’s length. His fingers giving that hardness an experienced little squeeze, like he knew exactly how much pressure to apply to make Taylor gasp.

“You know I was… joking about the slut thing but, I’m starting to think I shouldn’t be joking. I swear that’s a compliment.” Taylor’s voice was almost shaking as he spoke, trying his best to keep his cool composure, but losing it so quickly. Nick smiled, so sweetly, as if his hand weren’t… where it was, brushing lips over the other man’s “And you haven’t even seen what I can do with my mouth yet.” Taylor’s breathing shook as Nick’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip, “Uh no I think I have a decent idea what you can do with your mouth. I mean I definitely know what those lips were made for.” Taylor reached up a hand as he spoke, cupping Nick’s chin in his hand, running one thumb over those full lips. As he did though, Nick opened his mouth, tilting his head down and wrapping his lips around that thumb. His eye’s locked on Taylor’s as he sucked that thumb, so slowly bobbing his head; being as obscene as possible about it really. “Shit, okay yeah I get it,” Taylor exhaled the words his breathing shaking. As Nick pulled back slowly, his lips spread into a grin until the tip of Taylor’s thumb was just barely pressed against his lips, “Want me to put my mouth on your cock instead?” All Taylor could do really was give an enthusiastic nod, just staring with his own lips slightly parted. “Good,” Nick chirped, slipping back to stand up and then immediately looping his fingers in Taylor’s belt loops, “Come on, come to bed.” He said tugging the other man to stand up. “You know you don’t.. have to drag me.” Taylor said with a laugh, letting himself be tugged toward that bed. “Has literally anyone ever said no to you after a show like that?” he asked. “No,” Nick was smiling as he stopped in front of the bed, reaching down to unbutton Taylor’s pants. “You know you are allowed to keep kissing me,” he said playfully as Taylor simply watched. “Oh right.” It was a genuine tone, like Taylor had forgotten that was an option. He leaned in, resting one hand on Nick’s face as he pressed their lips together.

Admittedly the kissing was getting a bit more heated as Nick unzipped Taylor’s jeans, pushing them down to the mid-thigh level before his hand once again groped at the other man’s hardness. This time his palm did most of the work, running along Taylor’s length as his fingers sort of guided the way. He didn’t keep it up long, a few moans into the kisses seemed enough for him. As the two kept kissing though, still just as heated, both trying to lead the kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. Nick pushed those jeans lower, the underwear straight after, finally breaking the kiss to tug both entirely down; crouching down to help Taylor step out of them. “Thanks.” It was almost a pant from Taylor before he gestured at the bed, like in a questioning way. “Oh, absolutely not.” Nick laughed in a very genuinely amused way. “Do you actually think I’m getting on my knees for you in this hotel room? You must be mad,” he laughed again as he pulled off his own shirt. Still smiling in that same amused way, Nick stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, one single finger motioning Taylor closer. “You’re the one getting your cock sucked, you can stand. Or do you think that’s too much for you to handle?” Taylor did step closer, his head slightly cocked, “Well, if you’re half as good at it as you seem to /think/ you are? Maybe it is.” It was a bratty tone, that made Nick scrunch his face, in feigned disgust. “Don’t..admit those things out loud.” He said before leaning up to grab Taylor’s hip, pulling him closer, “Just stop talking and put your cock in my mouth.”

“Right.” Taylor rolled his eyes, pushing his fingers into Nick’s hair. They slid through it easily, roughing the freshly showered fluff up as he rested his hand on the back of Nick’s head. Taylor’s free hand took a hold of his cock, brushing it over Nick’s bottom lip as the blonde parted his lips. The tip of Nick’s tongue slipping out as he leaned in, immediately wrapping his lips around what he’d slipped into his mouth. Taylor let the hand at his base fall as Nick’s hand quickly left his thigh to replace it. It was the same act as earlier, Nick’s eyes fluttered up, locking on Taylor as he bobbed his head slowly, sucking in that same intense way. His tongue working in time with his lips as he rested one hand on Taylor’s thigh, one on his hip. “You.. look really fucking hot with a dick in your mouth.” Taylor’s breathing was a soft groan as he spoke, nodding down at Nick, who smiled, as much as he could, given the situation. Taylor’s hand was firm on the back of Nick’s head, guiding but not really applying any pressure, yet. He intended to, but for now he enjoyed those slow intense motions, as Nick slowly built to a steady pace. From below, Nick’s eyes never left Taylor’s face, locked on him, and eating up every single sound that came out of his mouth. Nick did make a few soft moans of his own, just so incredibly worked up by every expression of pleasure that the other man pulled.

It didn’t take long though for Taylor to finally apply some pressure to the back of Nick’s head. As soon as he did it, Nick rested his hand flat on Taylor’s hip, pushing back some as his eyes shot a warning look. “What, you’re not going to let me have any fun?” Taylor teased. But Nick didn’t bother to answer, pulling back enough to take a deep breath, but never taking his mouth off of that cock. He adjusted his mouth, quite like a snake realigning it’s jaw to swallow something hole. Honestly, Taylor found that a bit unsettling, but not for long. Once he’d seemed to relax himself, Nick leaned back in, immediately taking as much of that cock into his mouth as he could, and he managed about three fourths of the way before gagging. He didn’t pull back, only pausing in place as Taylor gave a groan, “Oh come on baby, you can do better than that, you know you can,” he cooed. Despite now watery eyes flashing Taylor a warning glare, Nick relaxed his throat as much as he could, pushing himself farther down, fighting through each gag until the tip of his nose brushed the dark hair on Taylor’s stomach.

“Holy.. shit baby,” Taylor panted, his fingertips massaging the back of Nick’s head, applying the slightest pressure, giving a much more intense moan as he felt Nick gag against him again. “You’re so fucking good at that.” Once Nick did pull back, Taylor easily released him, giving a worked up laugh as he nodded, “That was so fucking hot.” He panted. Nick was catching his breath, nodding as he leaned forward, spitting the excess saliva in his mouth onto the other boy’s cock, his hand stroking in place of his mouth as he caught his breath. “You look good getting your cock sucked,” the words were almost teasing but Nick grinned as he said them. “Not.. half as good as you look doing it baby, I promise.” Taylor laughed, “You.. gonna let me fuck your face? I mean clearly you can handle it.” Nick nodded where Taylor expected a ‘no’, “Yeah just not too long I don’t want you to cum before we even get started.” And Taylor eagerly nodded back, “Yeah of course babe, open?” he asked stepping back closer. Nick opened his mouth though, his hand still on Taylor’s cock as he tapped it against his tongue for a moment, those still glassy eyes locked on the brunette. “You really are a slut,” Taylor teased. “Say it again,” Nick breathed before dipping his head back down, immediately going back to sucking. This time it was like his life depended on it, fast and messy, and he rested both of his hands on the edge of the bed, just letting his mouth do all of the work. He didn’t slow down in the slightest when he’d take too much and gag, just letting tears well in the corners of his eyes. He relaxed into it as Taylor tangled both hands into his hair now, a firm but gentle gesture to hold Nick’s head in place as Taylor began to thrust into his mouth. He took a step maybe half an inch forward, but just enough to make Nick gag with each thrust, and enough to make Taylor moan in such a graphic way. He was so loud, and so unashamed of it, beyond feeling amazing, Nick was taking it so well for him. He didn’t fight, or pull, just trying to keep his eyes open, blinking back the natural tears that formed. “You’re being such a good slut for me,” Taylor panted, his fingertips almost rubbing at the other man’s scalp, still thrusting into those pretty lips. “Such a pretty little slut with that dick down your throat,” he groaned, only making a more worked up noise when he felt Nick moan at those words, which immediately resulted in a gag. “And you make the hottest fucking sounds choking on that dick baby.”

It didn’t last too much longer before Nick placed a hand on Taylor’s hips, the slightest push back, and Taylor did step back, letting Nick switch to using his hand. Once again, Nick spit all of that extra saliva, his hand massaging it in. “You liked it?” he asked in a pant. Taylor nodded, “Love it, you’re not done already ar..” but Taylor stopped speaking watching as Nick played with his cock. Rubbing his lips against it, tapping it against his face, rubbing it over his face. Almost literally nuzzling against it, like a kitten with his favorite toy. “No one does that shit outside of porn.” Taylor said with a breathy laugh. Nick pulled back with a grin, “I just did, so,” but he stood up now, shoving Taylor back as he began taking off his own pants. “Besides, you have a really nice cock.” Taylor stepping back from that shove shook his head, an amused grin on his lips. “How the .. fuck do you flip it off like that.. like a fucking light switch, you’re like Jekyll and Hyde.” Nick however, was finally naked now, and Taylor would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t follow every move, watching Nick unzip a travel bag. Watching as he pulled out lube, kind of impressive, slutty, but impressive, Taylor was into it. “I believe the phrase you’re looking for Taylor, is being a service top. Which I’m leaning into because you come across as a pillow prince.” He said before walking back to where Taylor was, gesturing at the bed, “Shall we?” he asked.

“Are you implying that you’re giving me special tre- wait what?” Taylor snapped to attention as he processed the rest of that sentence. “You think I’m a bottom? You think I’m a pillow princess?” Taylor wasn’t even pretending to not be offended. Nick however, looked unphased, “I said prince, are you not?”

“Uh, first off, excuse you, that is SO rude, I have never in my life just /laid/ there.” Taylor defended.

“There’s no shame in being a pillow prince, darling. I apologize if I implied there was.”

“I’m not done talking!”

“Very well, get it out, I know you need to.”

“Second off..” Taylor huffed, gathering himself, “Second off, I’m a top, mostly, anyway, I’m definitely the top here.” Nick laughed genuinely again, shaking his head, “No, no love you’re not.” “What do you mean no I’m not? You uh, you make a pretty convincing bottom, to –” Taylor waved his hands for effect, “Not be one.” He gave a more serious look then, “Did you forget about that?” “I was acting darling, I can’t believe I have to explain that to you, an actor.” Nick deadpanned. “Excuse me, you said you were leaning into the service top thing, you leaned into that bottom thing well enough.” Taylor said it almost like an accusation and Nick laughed, “And that has /no/ baring on my personal life.” There was a pause as Taylor almost pouted, “Well I’m taller.” “Oh my god, and that has NO baring on this situation, besides you’re like an inch taller than me.” Nick said, still smiling. “Well,” Taylor was still pouting, “We can.. measure..” he gestured at his own hips, then Nick’s. “No, we are not having a literal dick measuring contest for this.” Nick deadpanned again. “Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say dick before.” Taylor mused. “Because that’s an American word and that was THE most American suggestion I’ve ever heard.” “Okay well what are we doing?” Taylor asked with a sigh, looking over Nick who just shrugged. “We just.. start and see who wins?” he asked. “Oh, it’s a competition now?” Taylor couldn’t hide a smirk. “Was it ever anything else?” Nick asked, just stepping back and sliding onto the bed, motioning another finger at Taylor, who immediately ran and jumped on the bed. “Stop come hither-ing me like you’re in charge.” Taylor said, despite crawling over the top of Nick, kissing the other man hard. “I am.” Nick mumbled into that kiss, his hands sliding up Taylor’s arms, wrapping around his back before he used one foot for leverage. Once he had that leverage, he was shoving Taylor back, so he was on top, pressing his hips down against Taylor’s. But Taylor allowed it, his hands sliding down Nick’s back, large hands grabbing Nick’s ass, groping and kneading pale skin. Nick did grin into those kisses, “Brat.” He whispered at the hands on his ass. “You’ve definitely called me worse.” Taylor said against his lips, but it was a much flirter tone than he’d been using before.

But the kissing wasn’t slowing down, the two of them did flip each other a few more times, Nick ducking back so Taylor was on top once Taylor got too handsy. Nick ‘cheating’ according to Taylor and applying the same hands trick until they both ended up on their sides. Hips pressed together, their cocks consistently brushing up against each other, making both of them give soft gasps and moans. Finally, Nick reached back, grabbing the lube, and opening it without breaking the kiss. “Give me that,” Taylor mumbled into the kisses, reaching for the lube as Nick just held his arm farther away. But all it took was just one lil jerk from Taylor’s long arm to snatch it. “You really are insufferable,” Nick laughed as he watched Taylor apply it to his fingers. “Hey, I’m being nice, I’m using lube.” Taylor defended as Nick snatched the bottle, applying some to his own fingers. For a moment they just stared at each other, like willing the other to cave in. Clearly reaching a ‘fine!’ sort of resolution at the same time as their lips crashed together again, the bottle of lube getting lost in the mix as their bodies pressed together once more. Hands clumsily wrapped around the other, fingers pushing into each other at almost the exact same time. Both of them gasped, Taylor seeming almost shocked that Nick went through with it. Nick’s brows furrowed as he gave a sharp ‘Christ’ under his breath, “Your.. fingers are so fucking thick. Why did you use two?”

“Oh sorry,” Taylor sounded vaguely concerned, “You okay? Is it too much?” he asked. Nick gave him a defiant look, “I won’t give you the satisfaction of saying yes.” Taylor made a ‘fair enough’ face, “I think it’s worth mentioning that you also used two.” He added. Nick did laugh softly, “Well, you better get used to it, my cock is big.” He teased. “Oh okay okay, wow there’s an ego I didn’t see coming.” Taylor teased back. Moments later, the two were at it again, kissing each other like they were starving for it. Slowly fingers started to move, both of them working their fingers into each other. And both of them started to get noticeably more into it than they’d have liked to admit. Their hips pressing tighter together, it was impossible to tell which of them started it really, but they were grinding against each other. In reality both of them were grinding back against the other’s fingers, but they’d never admit it. “You like that don’t you?” Nick panted against Taylor’s lips, and Taylor tried to give a ‘ha’ sort of noise that came out more like a moan. “Not nearly as much as you’re going to love my dick.” Taylor groaned, though he’d have sworn it was unrelated. “Mhn that’s not how it’s going to work, you’re going to cum from my fingers, and then I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.” Nick panted. “Not if I make you cum first.” Taylor hissed through gritted teeth. “In your dreams.” Nick answered. But lips were crushing together again as Taylor pushed another finger into Nick, making him whimper, his free hand pawing at Taylor’s chest. Taylor could feel teeth against his lips, almost a growl as Nick pressed closer, and he felt another finger slide into himself as well, earning Nick a gasp from the other man. “Your fingers are.. ridiculous.” Nick finally admitted, in almost a whimper. And Taylor was nodding back, “I mean you’re.. definitely not bad at this.” He groaned. They were kissing again, their fingers working into each other desperately. Their hips still grinding together, both moaning in such a desperate way with each push of their hips that resulted in those fingers sliding deeper. Both of their bodies more than warming up to the intrusion. Again, even if they’d never admit it, both of them aching for something.. just a bit bigger. After a few more moments though, they broke that kiss, Nick was the one to break it, looking between them, “You’re.. like dripping.” He panted. Taylor stumbled over his words some at that, “Yeah it’s.. it’s like who I am, I have a lot of precum, you’re not doing anything special.” “I didn’t imply that I was,” Nick clarified, “I mean I definitely tasted it earlier,” he teased, “I just think it’s hot is all.”

Taylor gave a soft ‘oh’ before kind of perking up, “I uh, okay what if we switch?” he asked. “Go on?” Nick arched a brow. “I mean, what if.. you fuck me for a little, then we swap and I fuck you.” He could see Nick’s face softening, and he kept running with it, “You can cum in me if you want.” He added. Nick laughed at that though, “Once again, you’re insane if you think I’m letting you put that thing in my ass with my cock soft.” He said shaking his head, “Unbelievable, but alright.” He said nodding, “One condition.” Nick was pointing a very serious finger at a smiling Taylor. “If you finish fucking me before I cum, I want you to finish me off with your mouth.” “You’re accusing me of being a pillow princess again I see.” Taylor snapped back. “But fine, of course yeah.” He said breaking them up some, slipping his fingers out of Nick and sitting up more on his knees. “How uh, do you want me?” he asked picking up the bottle of lube and offering it to the blonde. “From behind,” Nick said with no hesitation, “I’ve been thinking about that for.. fucking weeks.” That thought did make Taylor a bit shy, weeks? Nick had been thinking about him that long? It wasn’t that he hadn’t been having similar thoughts, it was just… weirdly flattering to him. “You should have taken me out to dinner first.” Taylor teased, moving down onto his elbows as well so he wasn’t just sitting on his knees, and already beginning to arch. It was, a perfect arch, certainly one that made Nick stare for a minute. Taylor was sliding down on his chest, grabbing a pillow to rest his cheek on, tucking his arms under it as he spread his legs a bit wider, slipping to the perfect height. “Are you going to like.. wait till tomorrow?” he asked. “Sorry, just..” and Nick was moving, opening that lube back up and dripping it between Taylor’s cheeks, adding some to his own cock, and massaging it in as he closed the bottle back, just dropping it. “You’re really fucking good at that.”

“You are allowed to just tell me that I have the best ass you’ve ever seen, you know that riiiiiii-oh my god.” Taylor did not get to finish that sentence as he felt Nick push into him. The pressure of Nick’s opposite hand on his lower back, as if he’d move, as if he was going to run from it; he wasn’t. It was a stretch for a second, but whether it was because they’d spent god knows how long fingering each other, or because he was just /so fucking attracted/ to this boy; he felt like he adjusted quickly. He pushed himself back against Nick’s hips, giving a low moan at the fullness and at the satisfied noise he heard Nick make. Once Taylor pushed back against him, Nick was leaning up, just so he could bend over to see Taylor’s face some, “You have the best ass I’ve ever fucking seen.” He said with a coy grin, and all Taylor could do was pant a soft ‘thanks.’ Once Nick was back up straight, he was beginning to thrust then. His hands moved over Taylor’s body, fingertips tracing every muscle. “You feel incredible.” He whispered, though it was more like a moan. “So do you,” Taylor almost gasped.

The pace was moving from slow, to steady, and Taylor would have been lying if he said every inch didn’t feel even better every minute that passed. Finally, he managed to speak of his own accord, “Shit.. fuck me Nick.” He was steadily pushing himself back against the other boy now, bouncing off of Nick’s hips. But there was a rut in their pace, sort of sudden as Nick stopped, and Taylor felt fingers tangle into his hair. One rough motion and Nick was pulling him up, onto his knees. Taylor made the kind of noise he would deny making tomorrow as Nick’s arms wrapped around him and he felt those now oh so deep thrusts. Nick’s lips on his back, on his shoulders, teeth pulling at his skin. He was melting back against Nick’s chest, one hand moving back behind him, resting on the back of Nick’s neck, like keeping them so close. His other hand running down his own stomach to wrap around his cock, not that it lasted. As soon as he felt his own fingers, Nick’s hand wrapped around his wrist, “Don’t you dare.” He felt Nick pant against his shoulder. “If you’re going to fuck me, you better have more than enough left for me.” But Taylor gave another whine, down deep from his chest, he almost swore he’d fall forward. “Well, when can we switch? Fuck, Nick.”

“Mhn, we can now.” Nick almost purred, “You made such pretty noises, you’ll make me cum if I keep listening to them.” He said in a tone that was teasing, before just pushing Taylor back forward onto that pillow. “Oh my god!” Taylor panted in an exasperated way, “Stop shoving me places!” he said sitting up so fast, almost as if to prove that his thighs weren’t dangerously close to jello. He leaned over to shove Nick’s shoulder though, and Nick almost giggled. “Oh come on, you’re already getting to fuck me, you can’t have everything you want.” He said picking up the lube and handing it over to Taylor now. “You say that like I’m getting something so special.” Taylor quipped, before leaning in to kiss Nick, hard, and starving. He felt Nick melt into it, almost leaning forward as he broke that kiss. “You are,” Nick said softly, “How do you want me?” For a moment, Taylor thought, there was a million positions he’d thought about putting Nick in sincerely. Behind wasn’t a bad idea, but he really wanted to see Nick’s face once that cock slipped inside of him. He’d thought about Nick riding him, but that was too much power for the blonde he decided pretty quickly. “On your back.”

“Yes sir,” Nick said with a playful tone, but Taylor couldn’t not think about how.. hot it actually sounded. He watched as Nick got settled down on the bed, laying in the pillows and just watching Taylor move between his thighs. “You know,” Taylor said starting to fiddle with the lube, applying it to both of them as Nick pulled up a leg. “Your dick is like.. kinda pretty.” He said glancing up at Nick’s face. “Oh, thank you Taylor how nice, a little late but nice.” “Shut up.” Taylor huffed tossing the bottle against one of those other pillows as he took control of Nick’s legs now. The way he pulled them up, and open, did make Nick gasp, especially as Taylor leaned down, and pulled one over his shoulder. But it didn’t stop Nick from giving a soft ‘Make me’ in response. “Oh so.. so fucking gladly.” Taylor laughed as he used one hand and pushed himself into Nick then. His eyes were locked on the boy under him, watching that soft face contort; brows furrowing, plush lips parting as his eyes almost looked desperate. “You’re so deep.” Nick breathed. “Oh baby,” Taylor couldn’t help but grin, “I’m only going to get deeper.” He said, both of his hands moving up Nick’s thighs, catching under the knee and pushing them up, tight, almost against Nick’s shoulders. It earned Taylor a sort of strangled almost yelp, as he pressed his hips tighter against Nick. “Hurt?” He checked in, just to be sure. Despite having his lips already hung open, Nick just shook his head no.

Nick's jaw only hanging even more open as Taylor began to thrust into him. It wasn’t slow, but it wasn’t fast either, just steady deep shoves, Nick could swear he felt it in the back of his throat. Taylor was resting his weight on Nick’s legs, keeping them tight in place as he kept that deep pace up, his eyes locked on those desperate ones under him. “You’re just as fucking pretty with my dick in your ass as you are with it in your mouth.” He could see that Nick wanted to answer, it was all over his face, call him something mean in the name of pretending not to love the compliment. But currently, Nick couldn’t form sentences. Instead, he just nodded, his hands moving up to rest on Taylor’s sides. “You like that dick baby?” Taylor panted, “You’re taking it so good baby,” his own voice a moan as he picked up the pace. Nick did manage a soft ‘yes’ ‘please’ in response to that. Taylor couldn’t help but grin, leaning in closer, and giving Nick soft slow kisses, a direct contrast to those deep shoves.

Both of them were getting so noisy into the kisses, so desperate. “Inside you okay?” Taylor finally panted against Nick’s lips. A desperate nod came first, before Nick finally whimpered a soft ‘please’ against Taylor’s lips. That was essentially all it took, and Taylor made another of those desperate noises as he felt his orgasm wash over him. His hips shifting to just grind up against Nick as he rode it out, desperate for every last shred of pleasure as Nick gave soft whimpers at each movement, his fingertips ‘clawing’ at Taylor’s arms. Once he’d caught his breath, Taylor slowly put Nick’s legs down, giving a smile as Nick gasped at the sudden feeling of emptiness when Taylor moved back. “You took that really good for someone who uh, apparently doesn’t do that.” Nick however was sitting up some, reaching between his thighs, kind of awkwardly touching around, “I feel like I’m making a mess… that was.. so much cum. Like I actually felt it, that’s..” “Okay and?” Taylor teased, “Are you like the only guy in the world who doesn’t like watching your cum drip out of people?” he asked. Nick gave a shy shrug, “Well I suppose I like it.” “Right,” Taylor nodded, “I like seeing it too.” He said before taking his turn to push Nick back now, “Besides, I think I owe you a blowjob.” He said nodding down to Nick’s hips. “Oh, right you do.” Nick said giving a soft smile himself now, “It’s not.. going to take long, I’m.. so close.” He admitted with a tone that suggested he’d rather have not. “It’s fine baby, you just had the best dick of your life I get it.” Taylor said moving down then on his stomach sitting up on an elbow as one hand stroked Nick’s cock for a moment. “Well I think /best dick of my life/ is being a little generous,” Nick clarified but Taylor’s mouth ended most of those thoughts. “I.. some of..the best dick, is fine to say.” Nick said reaching a hand down to tangle in Taylor’s curls. Watching those big brown eyes as Taylor’s head bobbed steadily, working in an eager way, his hand working what his mouth didn’t. “Not that it’s an.. extremely long list, mind you.” Nick continued, “You, don’t have a ton of competition.” His breathing was shuddering, and as Taylor gave a bratty kind of ‘Mhm’ noise against Nick’s cock, his hips almost jerked in response.

“Fuck.. me.. you’re going to make me cum.” Nick groaned, and Taylor gave him a look best interpreted as ‘Yeah that IS the goal here’. It wasn’t much longer before Nick did cum, gasping out, giving his own desperate moan as he gritted his teeth. Taylor hummed, doing his best to keep sucking, trying to catch most of it in his mouth. He could feel Nick’s fingers tight in his hair as he kept at it for a few more seconds. Finally Taylor pulled back with an audible pop, immediately swallowing everything in his mouth. “Feel good?” he asked, leaning back in to lick at some of that cum on his fingers, where it had run down Nick’s length and pooled there. “Incredible.” Nick breathed, just playing in Taylor’s hair as he watched, “That.. is very sexy you know but I would rather you kiss me.” He added after catching his breath. It made Taylor smile, so wide honestly, like a puppy, crawling up over Nick and kissing him so passionately. “That was really good.” Taylor cooed against Nick’s lips. “It was, really good.” Nick said resting a hand on Taylor’s cheek as he stole another kiss. “You bottomed for me.” Taylor mumbled against Nick’s lips, smiling against them. “And you bottomed for me, stop being so smug!” Nick scolded, giving Taylor’s shoulder a lil shove, but then just immediately pulling him down for another kiss. “Stay in my room tonight?” Nick asked after a few more moments of kissing, and Taylor nodded, shifting so he was on his side, tugging Nick closer so that the two of them were more cuddled together. “Yeah I was hoping you’d ask me to.” He said pressing a kiss to Nick’s shoulder. “Mhn, well who else would I get morning head from?” Nick teased. Taylor couldn't help but laugh, “See! You are a slut.” He said still laughing as Nick smiled, looking so pleased with himself.

[scaryscarecrows]

Welcome to Camp Kill Batman

When the first batch of recruits come, it’s going to rain any minute. The skies are black, the humidity is unbearable, and the jungle is silent.

It’s no wonder the Knight’s nowhere in sight when the APC pulls into the compound.

Antoine’s the one who went to collect them. He won’t scare them, and he’s not busy; Frank, the other Good Choice, had had a breakthrough on some drone thing and had left firm instructions that unless the compound was actively going to self-destruct in two minutes, Do Not Disturb. Riley had tagged along, which maybe wasn’t a great idea, but really, Trent figures, how bad can it possibly have gone?

What he should figure, he realizes later, is how bad can it possibly go. The men pile out, already bitching about the heat. They’re professionals, though, and they get lined up fast enough despite their obvious confusion.

“These the new recruits?”

Trent doesn’t jump. He just shudders a little, that’s all. The Knight is way, way too stealthy for a guy dressed like…well…that. Antoine, who probably saw him coming, just drawls, “Yessir,” in a tone that screams, no shit these’re the new recruits.

There’s another movement, small and fast like a bug, on his left. A second later Riley’s nudging him in the ribs and going, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT. He grunts an acknowledgement. He doesn’t have to be here, but he’s a little curious, really, as to how this is gonna go.

“I want to know what I’m working with,” the boss says suddenly. He steps back, cocks his head, and Trent has just enough time to think, oh for fuck’s sake when he continues with, “Attack me.”

There’s a beat. Two. Then one of them, with a long scar down the back of his head, asks, “All of us? Together?”

“Mm-hm.”

“But that’s–”

“What you’ll be doing in Gotham. I’m giving you all an order. Follow it, or leave.”

They follow it.

About four and half minutes later, Antoine lights a cigarette, gives Trent and Riley a very, very tired Look, and gets back in the APC.

Yeah. Mark’s probably not gonna be very happy.

* * *

Honestly, Trent chalks that one up to needing to make an impression. This whole thing sounds crazy on paper. And it worked: the second and third batches are swiftly pulled aside with, “He kicked our asses like five minutes after we got here, this guy means business.”

So when batch five rolls around, Trent’s not expecting to be called over.

“Some of you are probably thinking that this is overkill,” he says. “Ages here is going to show you why it’s not.”

What.

“Sir,” he starts, but the Knight just turns to him and spreads his hands.

“Shoot at me.”

“What.”

“Your last physical said your hearing was fine.” Little shit. “Shoot at me.”

He regrets not being busy today. Oh, well. Look, this is on camera. If this goes badly, it’s on camera that he was literally just following orders.

He hefts his minigun up. Wonders, a few seconds later, why he was worried; he gets a few rounds off, sure, but the Knight just does that annoying-ass sproing, bounces off the gun like it’s a damn diving board, and probably only doesn’t use gravity to drag Trent to the ground after because that’s not the point. The recruits are suitably awed. Trent’s just annoyed. There were a thousand ways that could have gone horribly wrong and also, what the fuck.

“You owe me a fight later,” he gripes. “No guns. No holds barred.”

The Knight just laughs.

“Sure,” he says easily. “Why the hell not.”

* * *

Twice is coincidence. The third time, when the Knight opens with some absolute bullshit line about, ‘whoever kills me gets to command–and profit from–this entire operation’, Trent just sits back to watch the fun.

He didn’t know this was going to happen. Hell, the boss just got back from Gotham. Showed up a few minutes after they did, actually, roaring into base on a bike Trent doesn’t recognize.* But he hopped off, collared one of the mechanics and told them to take it to Frank, and came over to investigate. And, well, he led with that.

“There’s no way he can take on that many guys,” one of the newbies whispers. And. It’s just, well, look. Nobody is stupid enough to accuse Trent of being a fine, upstanding gentleman.

He heads over, relishing a little in the path that gets cleared for him immediately, and rumbles, “Wanna bet?” The man blanches and he clarifies, grinning, “Twenty bucks.”

Newbie looks very much like he does not wanna bet, but he also doesn’t wanna risk losing face.

“You’re on. Twenty bucks this guy gets his ass kicked.”

“Anyone else?”

There’s a few takers that agree, there’s no way this nutcase can come out of this. Trent suddenly has a wonderful, awful idea and twists over to go, “Hey, Antoine.”

That causes a ripple of worry. Apparently, they didn’t realize they were betting with one of the Top. Oh, well. Antoine shakes a cigarette out and looks over.

“What.”

“We got a bet going over here that the boss is gonna get clobbered. Wanna pick a side?”

He shrugs, flicks his lighter open.

“Twenty that one of ‘em insists they need medical.”

Good point.

“Yeah, I’m changing mine to that, actually. All right. Anyone else?”

No.

They walk away with roughly ten new mortal enemies. Better than the one insisting that he had a broken arm; it was a sprain, and Mark was not happy to have to explain this.

Still, Trent figures, rifling through his cash, he’ll be around for newbies every time. This isn’t a bad haul.

THE END

*It’s Dick’s. Jason steals two bikes from him (that we know of), presumably for use with his own tech, though he’s also such a little fucker about it. :p

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 18/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: bucky changes (alternate: bucky gets a haircut)

word count: 1160

tags: fluff, post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: none

a/n: a lil fluffy peek into bucky's day (no rue this chapter, but NEXT chapter, only rue)

AO3 MASTERLIST X

“I’m going on vacation for the rest of the month,” Raynor had announced during their last session. “And I think, to kill two birds with one stone, you should try a support group again.”

“What two birds?” he’d asked.

“Therapy and company,” she’d explained easily. Like she’d known he’d have something to say about it. “Support for the holidays while I’m away, and company because I don’t think you should be alone going into the new year.”

(She’d given him space to object. He knew what she was looking for - a confession. Before the session, she’d witnessed him and Rue laughing, more than amicably, and while she didn’t ask about it, he knew she wanted to.)

“Fine.” He’d crossed his arms and given her a pointed look. Daring her to ask. “But I’m not going to a grief group.”

Now, he’s almost gotten through an entire session in a veteran’s group. While some of the stories were meaningful to him, the current climate of the war and the front lines were just removed enough that it didn’t trigger him. Even when the older veterans, the ones who might have seen the tail-end of his war, share their nightmares and losses, Bucky can endure it.

(And it feels like a goddamn Christmas miracle.)

A woman approaches him after the session, extending a business card. “Uh, hi.” She’s probably a little older than Rue, maybe Raynor’s age. He recognizes her as one of the people who had shared. “I’m Ana.”

He doesn’t even look at the card; he’s studying her. “Bucky,” he offers.

“I…” She lapses into a nervous laugh. “I know this is weird, but I noticed you messing with your hair a lot while I was up there… and I cut hair, so…”

“It’s that bad, huh?” His tone is flat, but she laughs, more confidently now, and he runs a hand through his hair again. He starts to feel self-conscious, but it doesn’t go far. “I honestly haven’t cut it since…”

(He doesn’t say since he’s been the Winter Soldier - it’s not like Hydra had cared about his appearance - but she fills in the blanks with whatever makes sense to her.)

“A lot of veterans don’t… keep up with their appearances,” she says gently. “I mean, I’m sure it took a long time for you to regrow your buzzcut.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “I kinda like the long hair.”

“It suits you.”

(For once, a woman is not giving him flirty eyes. They are kind but not motherly. She sees him as a person and not an object. She understands.)

“Look, I just started working at a new salon,” she interrupts his thoughts, “and I’m building my clientele. I’m actually on my way over to work now, if you want to be my first client of the day?”

////

Ana had tried to wash his hair, but as he lowered himself to the lip of the sink, he felt anxiety scrape up his chest. Flashes of the Hydra Lab, the excruciating pain from electricity coursing through his skull, his jaw, his throat. He’d shot back up and started to make hasty excuses to leave, but she had reassured him, gently and patiently, that it was okay.

“A lot of people seize up at different parts of the cut,” she had explained. “Sometimes it’s the clippers, sometimes it’s the wash. Each person’s experience is different, and we’ve all been through a lot. I’m used to adapting.”

She had him stand and flip his head over the sink instead. She’d needed a step stool to be able to work the shampoo and conditioner through his hair. As she chatted casually about her clients, which she revealed are usually from the support group, he sunk into the feeling of her fingers moving against this scalp and the easy cadence of her voice.

(Familiarity has always been a trigger for danger, but he realizes Ana is a lot like Rebecca. When their parents died, his spunky younger sister had shifted her attention from her own endeavors to helping others. He knew it was a crutch, in the same way he’d readily thrown himself into his civic duty. Ana reminded him of Rebecca, not necessarily in a sisterly way, but in a safe way.)

When she had him under the cape, she’d told him what she was thinking for the cut, confirmed that he’d liked her ideas, and she’d detailed every step of the cut before executing it. She painstakingly only used scissors for the haircut, carding her fingers through his hair meticulously.

“Okay, so, for your facial hair, we have options.” She’d dusted off the cape with a brush before planting her fists on her hips. The rest of the shop had been pretty much deserted, except one barber and customer toward the front. “I could use the clippers and bring your hair down and leave, like, a shadow, or I could use the blade… but it’d have to be a clean shave.” She laughs at his horrified look. “Okay, okay. The other option is just shaping up what you have going on, nothing off the length. I can do that with the blade, but it’d be much faster and easier to do it with the clippers.”

“I trust you.” The words are out of his mouth before he can consider them. Even she looks slightly shocked. He doubles down, “Do what you think is best.”

“I’m partial to the facial hair,” she says, unraveling the electric razor. Again, her words have no usual subliminal context. “We’ll start with the razor for the shape up, and if it becomes too much, we’ll kick it old school with the blade.”

(For the briefest moment, at the end of the process, Bucky wonders what Rue will think.)

////

George lets out a low whistle when he sees Bucky walk through Fogwell’s doors. He’s putting on his coat while Bucky is taking off his.

“You clean up nicely, kid. Got a hot date or something?”

Bucky laughs, “Thanks, sir, but it’s nothing like that.”

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’,” George swats Bucky with his hat before putting it on. Bucky laughs again. “You got a job interview or something?”

“No, I met a hairdresser,” Bucky says. “At a veteran’s support group. She offered a free haircut, and I figured it was time.”

(He feels like information is just flowing out of him today, like water from a faucet - and the handle is jammed open. His heart says, it’s okay it’s just George, but his brain screamed, you’re in dangerous waters, Barnes.)

George gives him a look he can’t place. He takes both of Bucky’s shoulders and gives them a squeeze.

“You’re doing good, kid.” Bucky is seized by a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. Something like pride, something like gratitude. “You’re doing good.”

(When George leaves, Bucky gets a call. In Russian, on the other end of the life, he hears, I have the information you requested.)

[lifeonthemurdersim]

Ghouls By Nature Fandom/Universe: Ghost (band) Characters/Pairing: Swiss Ghoul x OC AO3 Link(full tags, warnings etc here) Word count: 3,147 words Synopsis: Cadence is not particularly shy when it comes to admitting what he wants. On this occasion though, Swiss can tell before he even has a chance to. Author's Note: This was actually the first one of these fics I finished, almost a month ago now! I post about my Ghost OC Cade on my other account @chase-the-music so I'll be reblogging this there. More about Gorekinktober on my pinned post here! Kinktober prompt(s) used: Predator/Prey Goretober prompt used: N/A

Cadence is pretty fucking tired right now. But he guesses he should probably get up off of his back eventually. With a soft sigh, the Advocatus Angeli heaves himself off of the squishy red mat on the floor of his office and into a seated position, smiling to himself.

In theory that had only been meant to be a little break from work, but it had taken a while, and honestly? He didn't think he was getting back to it tonight anyway. He'd been working so late that the words on the pages had all started to jumble together, and it had already grown dark outside. Maybe he should go get a snack or something, get to bed early. He grabs his thigh-high boots that he'd discarded beside him and pulls them on. As he's doing up the zips, he hears footsteps coming towards his open doorway at that point, so he leans forwards with his arms perched on his knees to see who's approaching.

He's half-expecting it to be Sister coming to drop yet another stack of paperwork on his desk, but instead, to his pleasant surprise, two long horns pop into view, followed by the head of their owner peering around the doorframe with an unusual degree of caution. "Alright Swiss?" Cade greets with a smile. Once he's looked over him and the office however, Swiss grins and waves at him, exuding his usual more confident demeanour again as his tall frame steps into the doorway fully.

"Valerio." he replies amicably, pretending to tip his hat to him, making Cade smile in return. He got on with most of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes now, but it was unsurprising he had his favourites. Seeing one back to back with the other was ideal. "Looking for a... partner?" he asks with a raised brow, nodding at his friend on the mat.

"Oh." he chuckles. "No, it's alright, me and Cumie were just sparring." He smiles slightly. "We were pretty well matched actually, lasted ages."

"Oh really?" Swiss asks in reply. "Hmm... bet she went easy on you."

"Erm, no, if anything I went easy on her." Cade replies haughtily. It wasn't entirely untrue, considering he'd been reluctant to put an end to it too soon. He paused. "We had to call it a draw in the end though because she has movie night with Cirrus tonight."

"I see..." the Ghoul replies. He pauses. "Does that... bother you?" he asks in a casually inquisitive tone.

Cade looks up at him, cocking his head to one side "What?" he asked, genuinely unsure why he was asking. "Why would it bother me?"

"Oh, I just meant because you're attracted to her." Swiss explained with a light shrug.

That caught Cade completely off guard. Not because he didn't have a point, but because he definitely wasn't expecting it. "Wh-what?" he asks.

"I said you're attracted to Cumulus." Swiss says with equal nonchalance but considerably louder. He definitely knew what he was doing by the teasing grin on his face, too.

"Shhhh-" Cade hisses back abruptly with a scowl, waving his arms to silence the Ghoul without really thinking about how much more obvious that made it. He beckons Swiss closer so he could talk more quietly and the other obliges. "OK fine, look, I'm not getting all lovey-dovey about her or anything like that." he explained honestly. "She's my friend and... well yeah, obviously I... think she's hot." He side-eyed Swiss a little. "But how did you know that?" He was a little obvious with these things, he had to admit; he was unable to resist flirting a little with anyone he felt inclined towards. But he didn't recall Swiss seeing the two of them interact that much. He tended to spend time one-on-one with his friends where he could.

"Well you did just say you were playing with her-" Swiss begins to explain.

"Sparring with." Cade corrects, not sure if he's doing so because he doesn't want rumours that could upset her to spread or because further slightly distracting images could be elicited in his brain by that choice of words.

"-and the pheromones you're throwing out are stronger than usual." he finishes matter-of-factly, ignoring Cade's interjection.

"You... you can...?" Cade began, cutting himself off. "Oh for fucks sake, I bloody knew it." he groans in annoyance. A thought about whether he emitted some kind of Ghoul pheromones had crossed his mind some time ago, but he figured since none had shown much reaction to it, it was just paranoia on his part. "So... can she tell?"

Swiss shrugs. "I'm more sensitive to it than the other Ghouls." he clarifies. "But if she was that close to you, I'm guessing she knows." Cade didn't fully know what to do with this information. He wasn't sure how far he wanted to go with that attraction in the first place. Maybe she wasn't either. Maybe they were at a metaphorical stalemate much like the physical one they'd been in minutes earlier.

They'd only had one conversation about that sort of thing, a few days back in fact. He'd been subtly trying to find out if she was into men, or humans for that matter so he'd steered the conversation in that direction himself while braiding her long, cloudlike hair.

"I like to be chased a little."  he recalled her saying as she turned back to look at him, her tail swishing slightly and brushing against his stomach, making him shiver softly. He wasn't sure he understood that. It wasn't like he spoke every sordid thought that crossed his mind, particularly when he was convinced nothing would come of it, but he was straightforward enough when someone else showed interest. It would make it a lot easier if everyone was like that. Or if he had the sense Swiss seemed to have, for that matter.

"Wait, wait hang on, how come I can't sense them then?" he asked in realisation.

"I would imagine since you're only part Ghoul?" Swiss suggested. "I don't really know how hybrids work. That's why you're so... fascinating." There was no sarcasm to it, just a friendly smile as he offers Cade a hand up from the mat.

"God, that's so fucking unfair." the shorter male complains, but takes the hand to get up to his feet. "So... you can basically pick up on everyone I'm attracted to?"

"Why, how many are there?" Swiss teases, though there's definitely a thread of genuine intrigue in it. Cade simply lets out a huff of laughter in response. There wasn't anyone he was seriously hung up on, not at the moment, but when it came to people he found hot...? Well there was a bit of a variation. "OK, no, not as such." he confirms as he loosens his grip on his friend's hand, his touch lingering for a moment. "It's more... instinctive. Just because I know when you're hungry doesn't mean I always know who you're hungry for, right?" He finally let go, Cade bringing the hand back to rest on his own chest. Swiss had a hell of a grip, but it had always been oddly endearing.

"Hmm." he responded thoughtfully. It wasn't like this was something he wasn't comfortable talking about. "Well I... guess I have had reason to be a little... "hungrier"... than usual recently." It had been some time since he'd had sex and right now he was too stressed with work to decide what he even wanted to do about that. It was no surprise he'd used a brief window of free time to get in some physical contact with one of the people he was attracted to.

"Positively starving." Swiss teases him, leaning down towards him a little. Cade's suddenly very aware of his own heartbeat. He never tends to have an issue with someone getting into his personal space, in fact he's usually the one doing it to others. But there is the very odd occasion when it can be just a tad... overwhelming. He leans back slightly against his desk, placing both hands flat on top of it in an attempt to get some space and fight the feeling he already knows is weaving its way through his body.

"I think that's... an overexaggeration." he responds, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face. Swiss looks him up and down, but doesn't attempt to come closer again... which is a shame because now the sense of overwhelm is gone, Cade finds himself missing it. The grass is always greener, he supposes. It takes a lot of self-control to stay poised, prevent himself moving closer.

"Then why did I pick up on you from Sister's office, hmm?" Swiss challenges. Cade frowns at him for a moment, trying to assess if he means it.

"...Bollocks." he eventually scoffs. "There is no way you can smell my pheromones from all the way across the Ministry." But it raises some questions for him. A lot of questions. Like why, if that were the case, Swiss would choose to follow that scent. His pulse quickens a little. Maybe he doesn't need to be holding himself back so much after all. Swiss pauses for a moment, eyes fixed on him.

"Tell you what." he responds with a mischievous smile. "I'll prove it. You make your way to anywhere in the grounds." Swiss looks him up and down, and then peers down at him determinedly. "And I'll hunt you down."

The words send a little shiver up Cade's spine. He manages to swallow and feign nonchalance though, raising his brows in amusement. "You know I'm not really the type to be "hunted"..." he insists with a slightly nervous chuckle. He has a point. He's excellent at evading people if he really wants to. He's a fast runner, has quick reflexes, and thanks to his fairly small stature he can fit into some unusual places. But he can't deny the surprising level of excitement tingling in his chest at the prospect. He reaches to push his hair back over his shoulders so it's out of the way, then puts his hands on his hips, straightening up off the desk. "...so firstly, you better get a good trail on me or however this works because it is fucking on." he confirms, to which Swiss emits a low chuckle at his acceptance. "Secondly..." he says, peering up at Swiss through his dark lashes flirtily. He knows exactly what he's doing but he can't help himself. "...need I remind you I need to stay horny for your little game to work?"

Swiss's laugh morphs into a far more booming one at that. He leans closer to Cade, his locs brushing softly against the bare section of the others chest and neck, a grin still plastered on his face. At first it looks like he's intent to stare him right down, but at the last moment he diverts to the side; hovering his nose and mouth against the side of Cade's now exposed neck and taking a deep inhale of his scent. Cade responds with a barely audible gasp and shifts slightly, hand gripping to the table as Swiss's own fragrance- earthy and musky and tempting- embraces him too. He may not have the ability to smell pheromones but he certainly knows what he wants. The preceding exhale is hot against his neck as Swiss speaks again.

"I don't think that's going to be a problem, little lynx..." he replies. Cade has a feeling his choice of animal is very much significant. Deadly to a mouse or a bird or even a deer. But one that to a wolf or a bear or a larger big cat... could very well be prey. A challenge. "...do you?" It's evident to Cade now that the excitement tingling through him definitely extends beyond the spirit of friendly competition now. Then again, from the way his heart had started pounding from the minute Swiss helped him up, it likely had from the get-go. He turns his head to lock eyes with the Ghoul, a hazy feeling flooding his brain, and for a second he questions if they're really going to play this game because right now he's not sure he wants to go anywhere. But the other proceeds no further, hovering and breathing onto his neck for just a few more moments before drawing back up to his full stature and folding his arms. "I think you deserve a good head start, though." he adds. "Got to be a severe disadvantage being mostly human." Cade gives him an amused look, circles the other in order to get around him without turning his back, but his steps are shaky.

"Y-you might regret that." he chuckles, some of his usual confidence missing; he can't seem to take his eyes off his supposed opponent. "If you don't find me within... half an hour, I win." he adds haughtily. He's not sure if he's trying to up the urgency or the degree of challenge. Either way some part of him is hoping it'll lure the other in further. Swiss nods but doesn't break the stare, and it feels odd to turn away, so Cade finds himself striding backwards out of his own office. He's still perfectly confident in his abilities. But he thinks his motivations might have shifted quite dramatically. He gives Swiss a smirk before he disappears from the doorway, turning on his heel abruptly so he can walk forwards, glancing once back over his shoulder before proceeding towards the nearest door to the garden. It's only when he's outside, and the chilly evening air hits him, that he breaks into a jog, then a run.

He knows where to head for. Maybe it's a little predictable, but there's a wooded area to the back of the gardens. It's about as far from his office as you can get, and there are places to hide. Is he really going to play this game? It seems a little silly. What if he just ends up getting lost amongst the trees while Swiss wanders aimlessly to find him? But then the alternate outcome overtakes him, the thought of what will happen if Swiss catches him, and it keeps him going; he realises at that point that he's not running to escape, he's running because he wants to be caught.

So he's rather pleased when, as he glances back right before heading into the thicket of trees, he thinks he catches Swiss in the distance heading out one of the other doors from the Ministry. He runs at first, but then slows, ducks behind a tree, turns to check where the other is. But as soon as he sees the Ghoul he runs again. Not wanting to get caught just yet. But wanting to make sure he's still being chased. He didn't expect it to be quite this thrilling, but every time he spots the other male, the tingling feeling in his chest swells a little more. The full Ghoul clearly has more stamina than him though, because soon Cade begins to actually need the occasional stops more and more, and the gap is closing rather rapidly. He decides to divert off the main path and off to the left, ducking behind a tree for a longer breather. His breath is reduced to deep panting now, but the friction he's feeling against the front of his tight trousers confirms it's not just from the physical exertion. Maybe he finally understands why Cumulus said she likes to be chased. Though she definitely didn't mean it this literally.

He leans back, closing his eyes for a moment, then opens them and peers around the side of the tree once more. It appears Swiss didn't go the same way as him, because he looks for a while but he can no longer spot him anywhere. Hmm. A little disappointing, but maybe when he's able to run again he can make his way to somewhere more obvious. It's only when he looks forward again that he sees a forked tree mere metres front of him... with a pair of eyes illuminated by the moonlight peering from between them. "Oh... shit..." he mutters under his breath, but it's too late. He doesn't even have time to fully turn around before Swiss has caught up with him, reaching a hand to the back of Cade's head to prevent him getting knocked out as he tackles him right to the floor.

After that initial act of care however, all caution is thrown to the wind as Swiss pins Cade to the ground with his torso and begins to pull on his hair and take enthused bites of anywhere he can reach; his earlobe, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. Cade responds with grunts and moans and gasps and rough scratches of his nails against Swiss's arms and back and chest, before he eventually grabs for the demon's horns and coaxes him into a rough, messy kiss. With the other's body pressed right against him, he can feel a warm, large shape growing firm against the crease between his groin and thigh. He moans lightly into the kiss, glad it's not just him, and runs his tongue across the Ghoul's jaw and down his neck.

"Quite some tool you've got there Mr. Swiss army knife." he teases in the other's ear, pushing his hips up into the contact. "You didn't give me much of a head start though." he points out, though with his breathy tone it comes out as far more of a tease than a genuine complaint.

Swiss gives a rather throaty laugh. "You say that, but you probably could have outrun me if you'd taken those ridiculous heels off." he chides in return, running a hand down the outside of one of Cade's thighs until he grazes the leather of his boots. Then he lifts himself up higher and flips Cade over, lifting his hips so he's on all fours beneath him and reaching around to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Well, yeah, I probably could've..." Cade admits, as he turns back slightly, getting a good look at just how hot Swiss looks in the moonlight as his scent weaves around him once more. He hesitates, but ultimately decides to give it away. "...But I think you know why I didn't."

Swiss slips Cade's shirt down off his shoulders and leans over his whole body, nuzzling against the back of his neck and inhaling once more, only this time he lets out a guttural groan in response, grinding against his ass hard and taking another bite of his shoulder that makes the Advocatus gasp. "Yes..." he murmurs softly as he takes Cade's wrists in that firm grip of his and slides them forward against the dewy grass, pulling his upper body down. "...I think I do..."

[gayashelljatp]

Prince Charming x James Hook | Trophy Boy Chapter 6

Tags :Sorta Enemies to Lovers Fake/Pretend Relationship Not Canon Compliant, Inspired by Cinderella (1997), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Prince Charming is a Bi-King, Prince Charming Is Filipino, Because the actor is and I also am one so yeah, Prince Charming gets a lot of bitches but no love, Merlin Academy (Disney), James Hook is gay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I don't know how to tag in this fandom, No Beta Like Not Going To Castlecoming

Content Rating: Teen and Up.

Summary:

Charming had himself caught up in a pretty little lie, telling his parents he had a date for his birthday ball. Desperate to stop their meddling in his love life, he came up with a plan: show up with someone who’d make the court gasp—a notorious pirate at school, James Hook. It was supposed to be a quick fix: fake a romance, cause a stir, and be free from the royal matchmakers forever. But the more time Charming spent with Hook—as a person, the sharp banter—the more complicated things got. This wasn’t just about pretending anymore. He was starting to get hooked. Or The enemies to fake dating to lovers between Hook and Charming no one asked for.

Notes:

Can y'all applaud me. Yes I updated on Tumblr on time what a mircale!!! I do appreciate all of y'all who read on this platform. This is honestly a passion project I do to escape reality for a minute or two.

Had to update y'all at least one more time before the holidays. This chapter was very out of my comfort zone writing I don't do much drama I'm more a romance fluff writer. So here is some drama that I've been setting up since the very beginning. This is the family breakfast (brunch) and the day of the actual ball. Don't worry cute stuff happens before I hurt y'all.

A few housekeeping reminders: - This fic has multiple POVs for Charming focused parts 👑 emojis are used on the other hook if it's James it's this emoji 🪝. - It wouldn't be a GayashellJATP fic without a playlist of songs I have on that help immerse you,

Chapter 6: Pre-Ball Discord

 👑 

Charming felt the breeze rush past him as he watched Hook effortlessly skate down the castle’s steps. For once, Hook was trying out the skater-boy style. 

A tight black shirt that clung to his chest in ways that should’ve been illegal, paired with some very shredded, loose jeans that only emphasized his already toned legs. He looked almost too good to be true.

The skateboard seemed to float like water beneath him, the wheels barely made sound on the pristine marble.

Hook glanced back over his shoulder. The sunlight caught his hook and the chain around his neck. His dark windswept hair was tousled just enough to look careless but perfect. He flipped it with a casual toss of his head like it was a weapon and he knew how to use it, “Keep up, Princey.”

The way he said it was enough to light a fire in Charming’s chest. It made him want to scream. Or tackle him. Maybe both.

“I could skate circles around you, I was just going easy on you,” Charming shouted, picking up his pace.

“Oh, easy ?”

Charming groaned, half from frustration at how insufferably smug Hook looked, and half because, damn it, he was ridiculously hot. Suddenly, the skateboards were gone, leaving them standing toe-to-toe in the castle courtyard. Hook was now all up in his face, his smirk replaced by something darker yet soft.

He reached out, grabbing Charming by the front of his shirt. His fingers curled just enough to pull the prince closer, the warmth of his hand radiating through the fabric. And the coldness of his Hook sent shivers down his neck.

The pirate leaned in, his breath brushing against Charming’s ear as he whispered something that made his ears burn, words he couldn’t quite make out but that left his stomach flipping in ways it definitely shouldn’t have. But before he could respond—

“Sir, you should wake up.”

The sharp voice of Lionel cut through and reality had set back in. Charming’s eyes flew open, waking up rudely dragged him away from the borderline wet dream he was enjoying.

He blinked, disoriented, only to realize he was still half-asleep and clinging to Hook like a lifeboat. His arm was wrapped snugly around the pirate’s waist, his hand resting on the flat plane of Hook’s stomach.

For one fleeting, awful moment, he considered leaving his arm there. Just a little longer. But no—no, that would be wrong. Was Hook uncomfortable with this? Did he do this all night? Fuck Is this weird? Of course, it’s weird. Did I just fucking curse in my head? He quickly shifted his arms away, careful not to wake the brunette.

“Morning Lioenel,” Charming croaked in his deep morning voice.

“Happy birthday, Christopher. I see you’ve gotten quite comfortable with your… friend there.”

“It was because of the magic string.”

“Ah, yes, the cupcake magic. Then why are you wearing that very specific shirt you made during Spell and Stitch class,” Lionel noted, his tone practically dripping with insinuation. “A curious choice for sleepwear.”

He looked down at the old, glorified rag of a shirt. He knew damn well it would be too tight and the fabric too flimsy for his build now, and he’d secretly hoped Hook might… notice. Damn, Lionel for being right.

“Don’t read into it,” Charming muttered, pushing past Lionel and towards his morning routine.

“Perish the thought, sir,” Lionel said, deadpan. “Though I must say, it does seem very convenient.”

Charming scowled as he put his running shoes on. “My only concern right now is trying not to lose my mind, at family breakfast.”

After his princely routine a grueling jog, some obligatory bench presses, and Lionel droning on about greeting cards from neighboring kingdoms.

The Prince found himself distracted. Every now and then, his thoughts wandered back to the pirate still sprawled out in his bed. He doubted Hook even knew how peaceful he looked when he wasn’t sneering or smirking or being Hook .

“Should I wake him up, sir?” Lionel asked, breaking into Charming’s reverie.

Charming hesitated, glancing back toward the bed. Hook was still there, one hand loosely gripping the sheets, his hair a complete mess. He looks cuddly, which was a word he never thought he’d associate with him.

“Nah,” Charming said finally, his voice quieter than before. “Let him sleep in for a little more. He looks like he needs it.”

“Ah,” Lionel said, the picture of mock solemnity. “You probably tired him out. Cuddling him all night. How was being the big spoon?” 

Charming nearly choked. “Nope, I’m not doing this.” He said as he grabbed his towel and escaped to the bathroom.

“I’ll see you at the palace, Sir,” Lionel said before heading out. “One last thing, don’t be late,”

Charming just glanced at the bathroom mirror, his chest tightening for reasons he didn’t want to name. “Happy birthday to me,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.

Charming then started his shower musical. He’d been belting out tunes with abandon, knowing full well this was his last chance at solitude before his obligations descended like a royal army. 

By the time he emerged, a towel slung loosely around his hips, the steam swirling out behind him, he felt rejuvenated until he noticed the sun had risen and so had Hook, looking unusually alert.

Hook’s piercing eyes were fixed on him, though they lacked the typical dark smudges of eyeliner that usually made his glare extra sharp. Instead, he looked softer, more human, which was almost unsettling.

“Guess who finally woke up?” The dark haired teen asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, pretending his heart wasn’t pounding.

“Only because of your bloody singing,” Hook replied, his voice dry but laced with amusement. “You’ve got pipes, though. Bet you had singing lessons growing up.”

Charming ran a hand through his damp hair. “I did. Mandatory, not by choice.”

“Figures,” Hook said, inspecting his nails as if he wasn’t already planning his next jab. “Though you were a bit pitchy in the chorus. Add that to your ever-growing list of mistakes, right up there with your bear-hugging—”

Charming groaned, pushing off the doorframe. “I didn’t mean to do that. I swear—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hook cut in with a gleam in his eye. “I mean, I get it. I am properly fit, but you don’t need to make excuses to get your hands all over me.”

“Oh, for the love of—” 

“Speaking of fit,” Hook cut him off, his gaze dropping just enough to make the prince self-conscious, “You’re quite the show off this morning. Did you workout?”

It took a second too long to realize what Hook was talking about. When it hit, his face turned beet red as he registered his current state of undress—nothing but a towel clinging dangerously low on his hips. He crossed his arms over his chest instinctively, trying to appear unaffected, but the heat crawling up his neck betrayed him.

Hook, predictably, looked delighted. “Don’t cover up on my account,” he teased, his grin wicked. “This is quality entertainment.”

“Can you not?”

“Come on, Princey. Don’t act like you’re shy. You’re the one who can’t keep your eyes off me half of the time.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?” 

“Nah,” Hook said with a wink. “I don’t need to. Knowing you’re think of me is enough.”

“We’re still meeting your folks, right?” Hook finally asked.

Charming nodded, grateful for the change in topic.

Hook finally got up, stretching leisurely as if the world itself moved at his pace. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get ready at my place.” He glanced down at his empty wrist before fastening his hook on with practiced ease. “Pick me up.”

Then Hook bolted straight for the door.

“Wait,” Charming blurted, reaching for Hook’s hand before he realized he didn’t actually have anything to say.

“Make it quick, Princey. We don’t have all day,” Charming’s mouth opened, but his mind had gone blank. Hook’s gaze was too much. Too sharp yet somehow too warm, like he could see straight through him. It was the kind of look that they write songs about.

“Maybe…” Charming finally managed, his voice quieter now, “Maybe try buttoning up all your buttons this time. I’m not trying to change your style, but, you know…”

Hook tilted his head, smirking as he let the words hang. “Oh, you don’t like it when I do all of  that? Should I take more clothes off then maybe that’d make you happier?”

“Just…Try for me. For my sake and my parents”

Hook leaned in slightly, just enough to close the space between them. “Only if you promise to keep the towel.”

“James!”

As the door closed behind him, Charming knew this was only the beginning. He made a mental note to keep a spare shirt nearby next time—just in case.

👑 

The hallways were a blur of "Happy Birthday!" and enthusiastic waves, but Charming hardly acknowledged them as he skated past, focused on his destination. 

He was already bracing himself for whatever mood Hook might be in, but when he arrived at the pirate’s door, he was caught off guard.

For once, Hook was punctual. Not only that, but he looked… different. 

Gone were the flowy pirate blouses and loose button-ups that Charming had grown accustomed to. Instead, Hook wore a tailored white shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways, tucked neatly into navy denim jeans that looked suspiciously new.

Charming hadn’t even realized Hook owned jeans; he'd always assumed the pirate was permanently ingrained in his dramatic, swashbuckling wardrobe. But no, Hook had denim. And it looked nice.

To top it off, Hook was wearing Charming’s varsity jacket.

The royal crest never looked so good. On Hook, It looked both completely out of place and yet ridiculously good at the same time.

When Hook spotted Charming skating toward him, those dark, kohl-rimmed eyes glinted with mischief. The look said more than words ever could: Caught you staring, Princey.

“You clean up pretty nice,” Charming managed, his voice a little tighter than he intended.

“And you wear the same outfit,” Hook shot back, his tone teasing. “I think I’ve seen a paper with you wearing that exact getup from head to toe.”

Charming winced slightly, glancing down at his brown barong shirt and black cargo pants. On second thought, maybe he should’ve worn something different for today. Something that didn’t feel so… predictable.

“You read the papers? The Asian prince asked, almost gasping. He straightened up and raised an eyebrow. “More importantly, what have you read about me?”

Hook didn’t bother replying, just gave him a look that practically screamed, Do you really want me to answer that?

Before Charming could press further, Hook shifted, plucking at the varsity jacket as though suddenly remembering he had it on. “Oh, and I thought I’d return this,” Hook said nonchalantly, starting to shrug out of the jacket. “I even got Morgs to do a quick laundry spell on it, so no need to complain—”

“No,” Charming interrupted quickly, stepping forward and stopping him mid-motion. “Keep it on.”

Hook paused, blinking in surprise. His eyebrows raised slightly, and for a brief moment, he almost looked unsure of himself. “If you say so,” He said lightly, settling the jacket back over his shoulders.

“It looks nice on you,” The Prince added, quieter this time, his gaze lingering a second too long before snapping back to the hallway.

“Let’s go,” Charming said, clearing his throat and rolling his board onto the ground. 

Normally, he’d let the pirate trail behind him something about making sure Hook understood who was leading but this time, he slowed his pace.

As Charming skated leisurely down the path, Hook walked alongside him, the rhythm of his steps keeping time with the quiet hum of the wheels. Neither of them said much, but the silence felt strangely comfortable.

🪝

The castle was a smug fucking thing, wasn’t it? All glinting spires and pristine stonework, like it had never seen a speck of dirt in its entire existence.

It made Hook itch. He swore he could feel the walls silently judging him as they arrived at the feet of the stairs.

This was not his world, and every fiber of his being was telling him to turn around before it was too late.

But then there was Charming, skating along like he had no cares in the world, the ridiculous good boy turned bad image fully intact. Well, it's time to tarnish that image a little.

“You ready?” Charming asked, hopping off his board with a practiced ease that Hook found entirely too irritating.

Hook tilted his head, trying for nonchalance. “And what about it? You nervous ‘bout lying to your parents?” His words dripped with his usual sarcasm, though his accent made “bout” sound more like a soft jab than a sneer.

“Is it bad if I say I’m actually nervous?”

“And here I thought you’d be an expert at it. I heard you were in a rebel without a cause stage, so I assumed you had lying in the bag.” 

“Just teenage rebellion tendencies,”

“Well, you’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” Hook said before taking a pause. “Your butler already thinks we’re damn near engaged. Playing a fiddle is as easy as your parents.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Charming muttered, his voice breaking with a wave of nerves. Hook just responded with a shrug,

When they finally made it to the fucking top of the stairs. Hook looked at Charming with an unsure look, as a knot was starting to form in his chest. 

The grand entrance loomed ahead, its gilded doors polished. As the guards pushed the massive doors open, a wave of noise hit him.

Charming’s home, his very busy, very lavish home was alive. Maids whisked by with trays of what looked like champagne glasses (at this hour?), a butler directed a pair of footmen carrying an elaborate floral arrangement, and somewhere in the distance, the faint hum of a string quartet drifted through the air.

Charming greeted the staff with a practiced smile and steady politeness, his voice warm and cordial in that maddeningly princely way. Hook could almost see the mask sliding into place.

“So, this is where you grew up. Bit much, don’t you think?”

Charming glanced at him, distracted, but managed a half-hearted smile. “It’s home.”

“Home,” Hook repeated dryly, his gaze skimming over the chandeliers, the intricate crown moldings, and the floors that gleamed like they’d never known a speck of dust. “You’ve got a very different definition of the word.”

Charming, however, didn’t retort. Not even his usual speeches. Just plain silence. The life got sucked out of him, replaced with a stiffness Hook wasn’t used to seeing. It was… unsettling.

“What’s the matter? When did you learn to shut up?”

“Nothing is—” Charming stopped, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Hook pressed. “If you were, you’d be a confident schmuck. But you’re not, and it’s throwing me off.”

Charming sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just…my parents. They’ll have questions. They are a lot. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely at Hook, his cheeks flushing.

“I’m what?” Hook asked, narrowing his eyes. “Not a princess? A pirate? A little bit too dramatic?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Charming’s voice was tired. “It’s just… They’re not going to understand this. Us.”

“There is no us,” Hook reminded, his voice sharp but quieter than he intended. He glanced over his shoulder at the line of gawking staff before leaning in closer. “You wanted a fake date, and you got one. So pull yourself together, Your Highness, and stop bloody looking at me like you don’t want to be here.”

Charming didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as they approached another set of doors. 

Then a familiar figure stepped into their path: Lionel, the ever-watchful butler-slash-life coach-slash-unpaid babysitter of Prince Charming. His posture was immaculate, his expression a perfect blend of disapproval and exhaustion.

“Ah, Your Highness,” Lionel said smoothly, his gaze flicking between the two teens with just a hint of amusement. “How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. Shall I tell the Queen you’ll join her for brunch after all?”

“Good to see you too, Lionel,” Hook drawled, his smirk too apparent.

“You might want to wipe that grin off your face, Mr. James Hook. Did you forget to prep him on manners?”

Charming shifted beside him, his shoulders visibly tensing. “Are you alright, Your Highness?”

“I’m fine,” The Prince replied quickly, too quickly.

“Look,” The pirate lowered his tone. “Let’s just get this over with. Sit, smile, nod. Do whatever it is you do at these things, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

Lionel cleared his throat. “That might work for you, Mr. Hook, but His Highness doesn’t have the luxury of disappearing when things get uncomfortable. And he has a schedule to follow.”

“Cheers for the pep talk,” Hook muttered, rolling his eyes.

But Lionel wasn’t done. He turned to Charming. “Christopher, whatever’s bothering you, we’ll talk about it after breakfast. Just go in there and be you.”

Charming nodded, but the tension in his jaw didn’t ease. He glanced at Hook, his expression unreadable.

“Can you give us a minute Lionel?” Hook asked rather politely.

Lionel entered the dining hall not questioning anything. Hook on the other hand (hook) had a plan. He stepped close to Charming and pressed the golden metal on his hand against his cheek.

The prince froze, stared wide-eyed, and for a second, Hook wondered if he’d gone too far. But there was no turning back now.

“Get your act together, we can do this,” Hook whispered, his voice too soft for his liking. “You can squeeze my hand if you need me to come save you.”

Where the hell had that come from? The old him would have gagged at the idea of Charming touching him, let alone willingly offering himself up for emotional support.

But here he was, pitying the guy or at least that’s what he told himself. Definitely not because he was getting used to those big brown stupidly honest eyes or the way Charming looked at him like he wasn’t a total piece of ship.

Charming blinked, nodding stiffly as if he couldn’t believe what Hook had just said either. “Thanks,” he whispered, his voice nearly inaudible.

Hook stepped back, yanking his hand down before it betrayed him again. “Don’t mention it,” he muttered, turning back to the door. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

The dining hall was nothing short of obnoxiously, unnecessarily big. Who needed ceilings that high? Or light fixtures the size of boats? Hook barely stopped himself from gawking at the sheer excess of it all, his eyes narrowing at the four plates laid out: two for them and two for Charming’s parents. Thankfully, the royal couple wasn’t here yet. Thank the sea gods for small mercies.

Once the two were seated, Hook couldn’t help but notice the Prince next to him had all the life sucked out of him. Charming looked pale and was one lost breath away from falling apart. 

Hook blinked. Was he trembling? This wasn’t supposed to happen—if anyone should’ve been shitting themselves right now, it was Hook. 

“Hey, My Knight in Shining Armour, I thought my little pep talk worked” Hook muttered under his breath, stepping closer. 

Before he could say anything else, Charming grabbed his hand, fingers ice-cold and gripping far too tightly. Bloody hell. Hook glanced around, as though someone might burst in and see this very unprincely display of nerves. No one yet.

Hook sighed, squeezing Charming’s hand back, though his voice kept its edge. “You already squeezing my hand your parents aren't even here. Way to use this feature way too early.”

Charming shot him a glare that screamed not helping. Hook bit back a smirk.

There was one way to fix this. Time to put these genetics to good use. Hook took a purposeful scooched closer, so much so that Charming startled and blinked up at him. 

Hook tilted his head down and then looked up through his lashes, making sure his hair fell in just the right tousled way to frame his face. The piercing gaze he hit Charming with could’ve stopped time and space. 

He’d perfected this look in countless flirtationships, on countless nights in the mirror, but this was the first time it was actually for a prince.

Charming stilled. Completely. His hand went slack in Hook’s.

Hook smirked, satisfaction curling in his chest. “There there. Calm as a dead fish.”

Charming didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared back at Hook like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “I hate you,” he mumbled finally, though there wasn’t a shred of bite in his voice.

Hook grinned, releasing his hand with a flourish. “You’re welcome, Princey.”

They barely had time to share another word before the loud, booming voice of Lionel cut through the moment.

“ Their Majesties, King Maximilian and Queen Constantina! ”

Hook startled, snapping his head toward the doors just as they swung open. And there they were. The king strode in first, while the queen glided in behind him.

The Queen’s gaze immediately landed on Hook.

She gasped, clutching her pearls—literally. Hook resisted the urge to walk out. He’d been on the receiving end of many reactions in his life like horror, anger, and misplaced lust but this one? This was a uppity in a new level.

Hook forced himself to stand straighter, every muscle in his body tensed. It took every bit of restraint not tug on the jacket.

“Happy birthday, my precious Prince Christopher Rupert Windermere Vladimir Carl Alexander François Reginald Lancelot Herman Gregory James,” Queen Constantina said in one impossibly long breath.

Hook bit his tongue to stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. Someone was more dramatic than him, and it hurt.

“Good to see you too, Mom,” Charming muttered, clearly trying not to look too mortified.

Queen Constantina’s sharp eyes flicked back to Hook like she was zeroing in on prey. “And might you introduce this lovely individual sitting next to you?”

Hook coughed, already regretting agreeing to all this bullshit.

Charming plastered on the fakest smile Hook had ever seen on him all day. “This lovely individual is my partner, the one I was talking about. I'm bringing him to the ball” Charming rambled. “James Hook. Of Neverland. I think. And these are my parents.”

Hook shot him a what the hell look but nodded smoothly, “Lovely to meet you both,” he said, his accent extra posh. 

He stood up, offering his hand for a shake, despite the laughable distance between him and the royals.

Queen Constantina stared at his hand like he’d just offered her a live snake. Hook tried not to let his confidence crack, though he swore his smirk was starting to feel brittle.

King Maximilian, at least, gave him a polite nod, though his lips were twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

The Queen didn’t sit immediately. Oh no. She glided down the table until she stood entirely too close to the pirate. Guess she and her son we’re experts at invading personal space.

“James Hook,” She said, the syllables of his name pronounced like an uncurerable disease. “Such an... interesting choice for company, Christopher. How come I’ve never heard of him before.”

Hook arched a brow, but Charming cut in swiftly, his voice tense. “I wanted to keep things private. Mom, please step back, you’re too close to him.”

Queen Constantina didn’t budge, her sharp gaze still roaming Hook like she was deciding whether to take him out back and hose him off. Instead, her eyes snagged on the royal varsity jacket draped over Hook’s shoulders.

“Oh, I’m just admiring the jacket. It looks so nice on him.” Her tone was saccharine, but Hook didn’t miss the undercurrent—like she couldn’t decide whether the jacket belonged on him or in a donation bin.

Hook cleared his throat, resisting the urge to tug at the lapel. Right, he thought bitterly. Wearing Princey’s clothes. Did not help win brownie points.

“Thanks, Mom,” Charming said a little too quickly. “I let him borrow it because he looked so good in it.”

Hook glanced sideways at Charming, just in time to see him flash an unconvincing grin. Hook rolled his eyes. Smooth fabricated retelling of a story that never happened .

“Honey, maybe step away from the boy,” King Maximilian added lightly, though his voice carried a hint of wariness, like he was trying to keep his wife from poking the bear too hard.

But before more could be said, attention quickly diverted to the table as servants swooped in to lay out the food.

Or well—attempted food.

Hook stared at the absurd portions placed before them. A single baby pancake perched at the center of Charming’s plate, flanked by eggs that looked like someone had taken a quarter of a quarter and called it a serving. 

Hook’s own plate held what appeared to be a microscopic sliver of toast and some “fruit”—and by fruit, he meant a single grape cut in half.

Oh. It all made sense now: Charming’s borderline torturous morning workout routines at the academy, all the extracurricular physical activities. 

Hook had always wondered if the boy was just some over-enthusiastic fitness freak, but no. Apparently, the Prince was on a diet .

“That explains why you eat like a bloody horse back at the academy,” Hook muttered with an amused smirk, spearing his miserable excuse for a piece of egg.

Charming snorted quietly into his glass of water.

Before Charming could reply, King Maximilian cleared his throat, his voice deep but easygoing. “So, Junior, how’s your day going so far?”

Charming perked up like someone had flipped a switch. “Going pretty amazing, ” he said brightly, though he squeezed Hook’s hand under the table like a lifeline. “I can’t tell you why, though.”

Hook shot him a look that said What’s that supposed to mean? Charming just grinned mysteriously.

The King chuckled, clearly entertained by the whole thing. “Oh? Keeping secrets already?”

Before Charming could answer, Queen Constantina took the conversational reins, her smile sugar-coated but still unnervingly sharp. “ I’m so curious—tell me, how did you two meet?”

The pirate teen stiffened. Charming’s hand snuck under the table, finding Hook’s in a silent plea for help. Hook barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Of course he had to answer.

He hadn’t exactly been focused when Charming droned on about their fabricated backstory yesterday, but he’d caught enough to make shit up.

“We’re schoolmates, Your Majesty,” Hook said smoothly, slipping into his most pleasing tone. 

“Your son’s quite the heartthrob, you know. Couldn’t go anywhere without people swooning over him.” He shot Charming a sly grin before continuing. “He fell for me—quite literally—when he was skateboarding. Crashed right into me, knocked us both flat. You could say he fell for me at first sight.”

King Maximilian barked out a laugh. “Accident-prone? Sounds like my boy.”

Queen Constantina’s smile stayed plastered in place, though her expression remained unreadable. “ Quite the story,” she replied, her voice a shade too light to be genuine. But she wasn’t done

“Forgive me if this is personal, James, but I must ask. How did you come to… acquire that?” She gestured vaguely at the hook. “Your hand, I mean.”

He’d been through this song and dance plenty of times before—curiosity wrapped in condescension, pity disguised as politeness. But it was the way she said it like it was a nuisance that hurt.

“A croc took it,” Hook replied casually, though his tone was clipped. “Big bastard. I survived, though, so I’d say I got the better end of the deal. It matches with my last name.”

Queen Constantina blinked, clearly unprepared for his bluntness. “Oh, how… harrowing. It must be such a challenge to—well, you know.”

Hook’s eyes narrowed, and the smile he shot her was anything but kind. “Past is past. Your Majesty. Doesn’t stop me from living my life, just going to school like a normal teenager.”

Charming’s voice cut in, sharper than before. “If you're asking me, I like the Hook.”

Hook blinked, startled. Charming’s words were sweet, but there was a protective edge to them that hadn’t been there before. He glanced sideways at the prince, who met his gaze with a resolute nod.

Queen Constantina seemed equally taken aback, her lips twitching. “Well, I suppose that’s what matters.”

“See, Constantina? This lad’s tougher than half the men in the kingdom.” King Maximilian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I like him.”

Queen Constantina didn’t respond immediately. She turned her attention back to Charming, her voice dripping with maternal concern. “Well, I just hope you know what you’re doing, Christopher. I’m sure someone like Mr. Hook lives quite an adventurous lifestyle. I wouldn’t want you getting caught up.”

Hook’s jaw tightened, and before he could snap back with something cutting, Charming’s voice rang out, firm and clear.

“With all due respect, Mom, I can decide for myself what’s good for me. You said you wanted to meet my partner and here he is.”

The Queen stared at him, her smile frozen. Hook nearly choked on his shock. He must be dreaming. Did Princey just stand up for him?

“Oh, Constantina, let the boy have his fun. It’s his birthday, after all!” King Maximilian boomed, He turned his attention to Hook with a wide grin. “Now, any skateboarding story James? are you any good?”

“Oh, I don't your majesty. I’ve fought sea monsters, sailed ships but I have not skated any boards yet.” 

King Maximilian barked another laugh, slapping the table lightly. “And son no need to call me your majesty, Dad would do.”

“You don’t need to call him Dad if you don’t want to,” Charming whispered.

Hook snorted under his breath, but before anyone could comment, Queen Constantina leaned forward “So, James, tell me—are you the jealous type?”

Hook let out a short breathy chuckle, the question catching him off guard. “Jealous?”

“Well,” she said smoothly, her tone as sharp as the edge of a dagger. “It’s just that tonight, Christopher will have quite the lineup of dancing partners. It’s customary, you see. He’ll be dancing with a lot of suitress. Lovely ones.”

Hook froze, his grin flickering for half a second before he schooled his features into something resembling indifference. Charming stiffened beside him, his fork clattering lightly against his plate.

“Comes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Queen Constantina continued, voice cool. “I know it’s hard to understand but I’m sure Christopher can explain.”

There it was. A carefully veiled jab, one that Hook knew wasn’t just about the dancing. It crashed like waves on the shore.

Hook leaned back in his chair, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No need to worry, Your Majesty. I’ve never been the possessive type. Can’t be jealous if I don’t bloody care.”  His tone was flippant as he tried his best to lie through his teeth. He was a pirate after all, being possessive came with the hat and the job description.

Charming shot him a look, somewhere between apologetic, hurt, and worried, but Hook didn’t meet his gaze. 

“Oh, good,” Queen Constantina said, her smile tightening. “Because Christopher has always been so popular. I’ve heard you're quite popular for things too.”

Hook gripped the edge of the table. He knew a loaded comment when he heard one. What made it sting more was that it wasn’t even the same old barbs, wrapped in prettier packaging. The message was clear: you don’t belong here.

And Hook was fucking sick of it.

The rest of the hour blurred into white noise. His thoughts high as in the stratosphere, checking out completely as the conversation droned on. The clinking of silverware, the hum of idle chatter, it all faded into a low buzz in his ears.

He sat there because he had to. Because this was what he’d come here for, wasn’t it? To shake things up. To cause a scene. He was a pirate at the royal table, and they’d never let him forget it.

Somewhere in that haze, he missed Queen Constantina’s voice softening as she glanced at Charming.

“I’m only looking out for you, Christopher,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry if I came off a bit… harsh earlier.”

Hook didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear any of it. His mind was already halfway out the door.

Finally, the longest hour of his life came to an end. Servants began clearing plates, and Hook decided he’d had enough. He pushed his chair back abruptly, the screech of wood against marble cutting through the room like a knife.

“Right. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” His voice was sharp and loud enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“James, what are you doing?”

But Hook didn’t care. He was already on his feet, shoving his hand and hook into the pockets of Charmings jacket. “Thanks for the breakfast, Your Majesties. It was a delight meeting both of you.” His words dripped with sarcasm, but his smirk was nowhere to be found.

“Charming, I can't do this . I’m sorry ” His voice was quieter this time, but no less sharp. And with that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the dining hall, not sparing a single glance back.

The heavy doors closed behind him with a resounding thud, and Hook let out a shaky breath.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he sure as hell wasn’t sticking around.

👑

Charming hesitated at the table, his fingers tapping nervously against his plate. His mother’s pointed questions and his father’s strained attempts to mediate played on a loop in his mind. 

He should stay, keep up appearances— But every second he spent sitting there while Hook stormed off felt like a weight crushing his chest. Finally, with a sharp inhale, Charming stood abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice clipped and tight. He didn’t even glance at his parents.

“Christopher, where are you—”

“I’ll be back.” His tone carried enough edge to make even his mom pause. 

He strode toward the door, ignoring Lionel’s raised brow as he intercepted him in the hallway.

“Christopher, you have other obligations,” Lionel reminded him, ever the composed observer.

“They can wait,” Charming snapped, brushing past him.

“They can handle being late, right?” he added over his shoulder, more to himself than Lionel. He didn’t wait for a response as he hurried up the grand staircase.

Hook was at the top of the stairs, shoulders hunched and back turned, but before he could slip away, Charming reached out and grabbed his wrist—his left wrist.

The cold curve of the metal hook pressed against Charming’s palm, and Hook flinched like he’d been burned.

“You were good in there,” Charming said, trying for a grin but faltering. “You caused a scene, just like we planned.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Charming wavered. “I mean... I thought you knew coming into this wasn’t going to be fun.”

Hook’s laugh was bitter, almost hollow. “I didn’t agree to any of this. I only went along with it because you caught me red-handed, remember?” His voice dropped. “Don’t act like I had a choice.”

Charming winced. “That’s not fair. I didn’t blackmail you—”

“But you didn’t exactly give me any fucking options, did you?” Hook interrupted, his voice rising.

“I don’t have much time, but I’ll see you later—”

“No, you won’t.” Hook’s voice cut through the air. “I meant what I said. I can’t do this anymore.” His words felt hollow, but the look in his eyes made them hit like a slap. 

Charming stepped closer, desperate now. “Hook, can we just talk about this? I thought you wouldn’t care what they said about you. You said it yourself—there’s no us.”

“But I didn’t know, okay?” Hook snapped, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t know it’d get to me.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I always cared. I just didn’t let it show. And it got to me because—”

“Because what?”

Hook shook his head again, jerking free of Charming’s grip. “Because nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He turned, starting down the stairs.

“James, wait up!” Charming called after him, following. “I need you.”

Hook froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. His voice, when he spoke, was low and brittle. “You don’t need me. You’ve known me for bloody a day and some hours.” 

The prince reached for him again. “James, please, let’s just—”

“No!” Hook snapped, taking a step back. “You don’t get it, do you? I let you see me— all of me. Dancing with you without the hook. You were wearing my clothes. Do you know how hard that was for me?” He let out a bitter laugh, blinking rapidly. “It’s too much. I can’t—I’m sorry.”

Hook’s voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, Charming thought he saw tears glistening along with the dark brim of his eyes, but Hook turned too quickly for him to be sure.

“James…” 

“No.” Hook’s voice was sword-sharp, slicing through Charming’s protests. He didn’t turn around, but when he spoke again, his words came fast and furious, as though he’d been holding them in for too long.

“You’re not listening. You never do.” Hook finally spun around, his eyes full of hurt. “You walk around like the world bends to your fucking will because it always has. You’ve never had to fight for anything real, have you? You sit there playing the perfect prince while the rest of us—normal people—are fighting just to keep our heads above water!”

Charming tried to interrupt, but Hook’s voice only grew louder, angrier. “Do you know what it’s like to walk into a room and know— know —that you’ll never belong? That no matter what you say, or how hard you try, people like your mother will always look at me like I’m the dirt on their fucking shoes? And you—you brought me here! You put me in that room! And for what? To use me to make a point? To piss off your mummy and daddy because you’re too much of a coward to stand up to them yourself?”

“That’s not fair—” Charming started, his voice weak.

“Not fair?” Hook laughed, bitter and hollow. “You want to talk about fair? What’s fair about putting me through this circus act just so you can have your little rebellion? What’s fair about pretending like you care—like you actually see me—when all you care about is what I can do for you ? You don’t give a shit about me. I’m just a guy you’ll use and throw away when you’re done.”

“That’s not true,” Charming said, his voice cracking.

“Isn’t it?” Hook’s lips curled into a sneer. “Tell me this, Charming—when was the last time you actually thought about what I wanted? About how I felt? You didn’t. You don’t. Because that’s not who you are. You’re a spoiled, entitled asshole.”

Charming’s throat felt tight, his mind scrambling for something—anything—to say. But Hook didn’t give him the chance.

“I let you in,” Hook said, his voice breaking now, anger giving way to something raw and vulnerable. “I let you see parts of me I don’t show anyone. And you took it all, didn’t you? You took and took and took, and now I’m the one left standing here feeling like a fool. Well, congratulations, Your Highness. You win. I hope it was worth it.”

Hook stepped back, his chest heaving, tears shining in his eyes, though he quickly blinked them away.

“Happy fucking birthday, Christopher,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “Hope you enjoy it, because I’m done. I’m so done. ”

He turned and stormed down the stairs, his boots echoing against the marble. 

Charming watched him go, frozen in place, his mind racing and his heart pounding.

He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts swirling in a mess of guilt and confusion. Hook’s words replayed in his head, each one a punch to the gut.

Happy fucking birthday.

Charming let out a shaky breath, his hand gripping the banister as he sank onto the stairs. 

He’d thought he had everything under control. He’d thought he could handle this. But now, sitting there alone, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

He was back to square one.

Charming was someohow even more screwed than before.

🪝

Notes:

Hope you enjoy the fic & Remember to give feedback!!! It is always appreciated. I am so sorry for making you read that.

[thesamoanqueen]

Breakfast

Ratings: 18+

Warnings: SMUT; Fingering; a bit of oral sex; Errors like always, probably…

A/N: I'm shameless. I repost it cause the tags didn't work. Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next one~ Wish someone will like this new one anyway, bye!

Awakenings weren't for her. She had never liked to stay between the sheets, her body numb from sleep, feel her eyes get used to the light again or maybe she had never really had the opportunity to appreciate them. Certainly, had never happened to appreciate those of the two days she had left behind her, too much weight on her chest and her mind wandering in the dark all the time. In those days she usually kept herself busy to avoid the pain, till she collapsed physically letting the time do the rest and as expected, she had done it too the previous day. The results, however, had been different and for once, she had no desire to get out of bed to start the day and the weight that she felt around her waist was even pleasant.

- Aren't you a little too old to pretend to sleep? - Roman asked, his voice rough, giving her a little pinch on her bare side.

She should have regained consciousness, take stock of the situation and try to get a clear picture of what they had done, but she didn't really like it at that moment and honestly, the only picture she could visualize was Roman's face buried between her legs for what had seemed like an eternity. Or maybe it really had been, the big boy had been furious to the point of making her beg for mercy.

- Ssh, it's not nice to disturb... - she murmured, eyes closed with fake annoyance, moving under his arm to turn away.

Tried at least, because she just had time to inspire between the sheets, before feeling crushed against the pillow, Roman's shadow overhanging her and his weight hanging over. A sound of surprise escaped her mouth as she felt his grip on the wrist pinning her to the bed and her eyes flew open, snapping over her shoulder where she knew she would find him. His beard tickled her sensitive skin and his breath pounded on her neck full of red marks, moving a single tousled lock resting on her cheek.

- Find a kinder way to shut me up babygirl, you already ran enough your mouth yesterday... - Roman suggested, moving her hair with a disarming slowness considering how quickly he had jumped on her just a second before.

And it didn't matter if it was that or the tone he'd warned her in, lower and rougher than it usually was, a jolt ran straight between her thights and Roman's lips began sucking the line between hers shoulder and neck again, were just helping to make her a mess.

- I thought you liked hearing me talk - she muttered, putting on an offended expression.

Roman laughed, giving her a grin before sliding two fingers along her side and further down, up to her bare ass to feel its consistency with his entire hand.

- I found something I like better - he admitted, rubbing his lips on her ear and at that touch, she bent against him, in a perfect arc.

God, they've been up for how long? Ten minutes? Less? And she already wanted to be fucked until she forgot where she was or even who was. Intention that Roman was more than ready to indulge considering his boner which was resting against her buttocks and which made her bite her lip with heavy breathing.

It was not a one-night stand, nor a sudden attraction for a stranger that she would forget in the next town and maybe it wouldn't end well for her, but she didn't want to stop. She couldn't do it, not if Roman was in the middle and so, ignoring the dozens of work and friendship reasons why she shouldn't, she pushed to her knees to slide his shaft between her asscheeks. Y/N felt him rub against her with a low growl and his grip on her wrist tightened for a long moment, almost as if he were afraid of losing her, until the heat between them became too much. With heavy breathing and tense muscles, Roman kissed her nape and then released the wrists and grabbed her hips, drawing her closer to him. A moan made her tremble, toes already crumpling as she felt his tip pressing her wet entrance to rub between her asscheeks again, leaving a soggy trail. Up and down.

- Oh… I like that sound you make - he blew satisfied, repeating that gesture over and over, prompting her to rock her hips in an attempt to increase the friction.

She was such a mess and was more than sure she had never behaved like this to anyone else, but Roman had an effect on her that no one else had ever had. He had it when they worked, when they spent time together and with the latest discoveries, he also had it under the covers. And if he wanted to take control of her she would let him, Y/N trusted him and the way he held her was a turner on.

- You're such a tease! How about doing something? - she tried to retort in frustration, completely flattening her upper body on bed to push herself better.

At that gesture, Roman's fingers sank possessive into her hips, certainly creating yet another mark and Y/N turned to look between her lashes, discovering him almost hypnotized by the meeting of their bodies and the precum that dripped on her skin. His eyes had become darker and his mouth had curled into that typical expression, which he occasionally brought out even in the ring, when was about to lose control, hair falling around his gorgeous face.

Y/N had never had a type of man, not even in her teenage years, but there was no part of Roman inside or outside that didn't drive her crazy. He was her person. And seeing him so absorbed by the simple sway of her hips, so hungry, gave her a rush of power and arousal that her core didn't really need in the state already was.

She was hot and with humor dripping down her legs, she boosted him from the muscular thighs to his abdomen, rocking up and down with obstinacy without losing sight of him. The weight of his shaft leaping to the rhythm of thrusts was almost enough to make her cum and her moans became more needy with every second, until Roman began to give in too.

- Easy babygirl, easy or do you want to beg again? - he stopped her, pulling Y/N’s body against his manhood with a tug on the umpteenth turn of hips.

Ah she wanted it so bad! Wanted to feel him everywhere, to find out how weak her legs became from his thrusts, wanted her mind and body filled only with him, she wanted to feel herself tiny between his hands and his voice in her ears growling her name like a mantra.

- I didn't ask you to be gentle – Y/N mumbled and Roman leaned over her with a grin, kissing her on the shoulder.

- Dont push your luck with that attitude.

- I can be worse, y’know that. - she tried to retort stubbornly, but words died in her mouth the instant two fingers slipped inside her, snatching her a high-pitched moan.

After spending part of evening and the whole night getting fucked, her nub was so sensitive that she was on the verge of breaking up at any moment, but she couldn't have asked for more and Roman seemed to never get enough of her. Of every part of her.

- Uh-hun, but you're such a good girl for me... - he murmured, maybe to her or to himself, while his fingers pumped in and out of her with a disarming slowness.

Y/N felt her insides tighten around them with each intrusion and lost in that exhausting rhythm, didn't even notice that was on her side, one of her legs clinging to Roman's chest and his mouth going down hungry to her breasts. She leaned against him, grinding on his hand as he sucked one sensitive nipples and held him tightly, her fingers through his hair.

They could have blown up the hotel, been in the middle of a press conference or had a hurricane over the window and she wouldn't give a damn. It was worrying, cause she didn't even have Roman inside her yet, at least not until that very moment. The lack of his skillful fingers had been sudden, so short not to give her time to get angry and certainly she wasn't going to complain about that big change now.

- Holy shit! Ro! - she moaned, clinging to his big arms to hold herself when it was all inside her with a single deep movement.

- You're so beautiful all spread out like this... - Roman admired her, licking his lips to sink into her with another thrust without holding back.

The fact that he had touched that spot with disarming precision should have warned Y/N about what her body was teaching him, but she was only able to squirm against the pillow from her rush of pleasure.

It was so damn good...

- Just for me... - she heard him growl, sinking a second time into the same spot and her eyes shut as an all too familiar heat turned her stomach.

Y/N felt one of his hands caress her cheek to make her turn again and the other anchor her better to him for a new thrust. She reopened her eyes just in time to see him lowering himself, thumb rubbing her lips with love and his gaze dark with lust.

- Only for me - repeated, slamming his lips against hers in a heated kiss.

She grabbed him by his neck and squeezed under him, holding on to anything to keep from letting go, just to feel him so close, so over her. Roman tongue was already tasting every corner of her mouth and the thrusts did nothing but force Y/N to moan in silence, while she let him devour her without the slightest intention of giving in to the need for air. But in the end was too much for both of them and with their forehead pressed together, hairs scattered everywhere, Y/N bit his lip one last time deserving a low growl.

- Did you hear me, babygirl? - He urged her, increasing the pace of his thrusts without taking eyes off hers.

The bed under them was now creaking in a dangerous way and although the rooms were soundproofed in that hotel chain, there was very little to do about the knocks on the wall. But did she care? No, not in that moment, not with Roman pumping her inside like it was his life’s mission. And more the pace increased, more helpless she felt under him, more she wanted.

- I asked you if you hear me! Its just for me! - He growled heavily, turning her over to bury himself inside at a new angle.

Sure she had heard, but they weren't in position to talk about certain things at the time. None of them.

He was deep enough to make Y/N feel it in her stomach and her walls now did nothing but squeeze him, letting her humor dribble everywhere, creating obscene sounds with every thrust. More Roman pushed, more she got wet letting him slide better, more the noise of their naked bodies increased. It was ringing in her ears and she wanted more.

- Again please, I-fuck! Fuck! - she screamed out of control, escaping yet another kiss to cling on his shoulders.

- Mine… you’re m-mine. Take it, cmon!

- D-Dont stop, oh my!

Her legs ached, her lips were swollen and her mind had lost track of everything. She had the impression of being in a press, a fucking skillful press. The sheets were damp and air heavy with the smell of sex. She was so close to implode… so close…

- You love it, like t-this hm, dont you babygirl?! - Roman laughed, biting and sucking every piece of her.

His hands were everywhere, the chest half covered by the tattoo pressed against her breasts bouncing up and down with each thrust. Y/N had no idea how he was capable of it, but he had picked up the pace again and when he began to slow down with the obscene phrases, to delight her with those groans it was too much for her. She squeezed her legs around his sweaty hips, still bringing him closer and hid against his shoulder. He smelled so good, like a safe place.

- R-Roman, I- need it a little harde- Ah! - begged with broken voice, already feeling his hands lift her.

- I got you, babygirl… give it to me. I-Im right here, I got you! - He reassured her, his voice less harsh than before as he pulled her over him without the slightest effort.

- P-please! R-Ro, Im-God!

Leaning on his legs, with shaking arms around his neck and his beard tickling her jaw between kisses, she felt her heat grow thrust after thrust, until it was too much. Undaunted, Roman held her on top of his body and continued to thrust indulging every wave of pleasure as she descended from her apex and brought her forehead back against his with watered eyes.

She felt so good, it was all so...

- B-babygirl… - Y/N heard him grumble, his face sweaty and his muscles tense.

She moved a lock of hair stuck to his forehead and rocked on him, meeting his deep thrusts at an unnatural pace. She was bursting in her chest as she looked at him like that and further down, her center had begun immediately to tighten mercilessly around him, causing another orgasm to grow. She kissed him softly, despite the movements of the rest of her body, going down to bite his bearded jaw and neck to give him a little breath. Y/N felt his big hands squeeze her ass as she glided on him frantically and his thrusts became confused, disjointed, his muscles tenser.

- So thi-ght… fuck! Yes! That’s it! K-keep doing that! - he moaned, his brow furrowed and abs contracted from the effort of thrusts.

- It feel so good! - she was burning and couldn't help it.

Y/N placed her hands on his pecs, trying to hold on as much as possible and positioned herself better, guiding him inside her in circular movements that made him throw his head back with an almost furious growl. The entire length of him pumping in and out of her wet core, staying in with only the tip and then coming back and starting over. It was a drug.

- You're take it all, d-don't stop!

- ... n-no way!

And Y/N would have done it for the rest of her days if she had been able to, but her body was on the edge and the heat in her lower belly was building up faster than she had expected. But it couldn't happen right now, she had to hold out a little longer, she had to do it for Roman and she bit her lip, looking down under her. She watched in bewilderment as their bodies met one lunge after another, legs trembling and moods mixing, a sticky trail shone on Roman's shaft up to the inside of her thigh and a burst of heat hit her, making her tremble.

She couldn't take it, she was trying, but it was too much. It was just too much.

- It’s… i-its okay, Im there too, i-m just… Fuck!- she heard him call her back as if he had read her mind and it was enough for her to look up.

Her walls tightened one last time, while Roman under her stiffened in a thrust deeper than the others and the heat of his released hit her, giving her the final blow. She clung to his back again, Roman's lips already on her and felt like she was falling from the top of a building. Her body shaken by tremors and her mind clouded as she slowly, more and more slowly regained consciousness of the bed, of the room around them, the light that filtered through the heavy curtains.

She rested his head on Roman shoulder and he took the opportunity to kiss her, pulling Y/N down with him for some rest, his fingers stroking her head. Silently, she listened to his breathing become more regular, the hearts of both slow down the frantic rush they had launched into, and her fingertips began to trace the line of his tattoo, one leg still clinging on him.

- Do you know what would be perfect now? Breakfast. - Roman boomed beneath her after some time and her eyes ran from the anonymous alarm to him.

- Don't look at me like that, you sneaky little, there's nothing in my stomach... since yesterday. Im a big boy - he joked, making her giggles.

Amused, she shook her head and seeing the smile with which he was looking at her, an idea suddenly hit her.

It was definitely not breakfast time and sooner or later someone would come to disturb them to find out at least what happened to the face of WWE, but maybe they could make a tear. On the other hand, she too was hungry, but not necessarily for food.

- Then… we have to do something about that. – she said, lifting herself up just enough to slide her face down and blow her breath on his boner.

With her gaze fixed on him, she saw his eyes darken at the first touch of her fingers and one of his hands snapped to caress her lower back. Y/N licked her lips and took his shaft, feeling the tension build up again, the veins swelling and she rocked her body beside Roman. She pressed the tip against her lips for a moment and with her gaze back on him, she slowly sucked it, making him groan in approval.

- Ladies first? - asked with a fake innocent look and Roman nodded, giving her an encouraging caress on her head.

- Always.

- They raised you so well.

Just for a little more. Just for breakfast time.

[alex-just-vibing]

hey! you can call me alex (cuz that's my name)! welcome to my mess of a blog!

he/it but honestly anything other than she/they works B3

deco my tree (pls comment if christmas passes and i just forget to take this out)

idk what's going on genderwise. im just a lil guy

aspec of some kind (??)

pleease use tone indicators when talking to me i cannot tell what you're trying to say

i have a lot of sideblogs, but only like two of them are active lmao so im only tagging ones ill respond to things on (maybe) look im gonna be for real, im not active on pretty much any of them except the homestuck one, klondike bar, and maybe my ocs and miya depending on my mood, but i rarely get asks on either of those

@ask-the-apple-gang

@wouldyoudoitforaklondikebar

@chinen-miya-official

@guarded-axiom

@hona-the-idol

the main fandoms i am into as of right now (changes very often) (though this is not an exhaustive list of everything im into) are: project sekai, vocaloid, danganronpa, sk8 the infinity, toilet bound hanako-kun, kindaaa class of 09 + the re-up, bungo stray dogs, pokemon shield specifically, doki doki literature club, dungeon meshi, smiling friends, puella magi madoka magica, botw, and homestuck

i am legally obligated to put the fact that i was in fact crowned the NUMBER ONE THE MAVERICK FAN 💪🔥💪🗣️💯

if you want to block it, my tag for liveblogging my read of homestuck is #alex reads homestuck ive finished the main comic and am starting the epilogues. ill still tag that as alex reads homestuck, but ill also add the tag #Oh God. Part Two: 3L3TR1C BOOG4LOO

im matching pfps with my wonderful amazing best friend @/jkapocalypse ^_^

i usually tag original posts as #my stuff, asks as #alex answers, and reblogs as #reblog but also there are just sum times where like for a week or so i just. dont feel like tagging anything (especially reblogs) and am just kinda zombie-ing thru life so those tags dont have everything

i dont have a specific do not interact/follow, but if any of the political stuff i reblog upsets you (pro palestine, pro lgbt+, pro blm, pro socialism, anti capitalism, pro choice, etc) , then this likely is not the blog for you, and you should not follow me. it is up to you however, but i do also know how to use a block button.

pjsk friend code - 348563027429191681

dont be mean, have fun etc etc, and expect incomprehensibility, leftist views, and the lgbt community :3

bunch of blinkies under the cut (flash warning)

[wooahaes]

lonely hearts club [pt.5]

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x chubby!fem!reader

word count: 3.6k~

warnings: alcohol mention. some hints at reader feeling insecure compared to her friends.

daisy’s notes: for more on jihoon’s partner and how they got together, maybe you should check out enouement when you have the time <3

summary: With graduation fast approaching, Wonwoo only meant to vent about his feelings to an anonymous Twitter account known for giving people a space to vent and an anonymous way to express themselves. What happens when the person he has feelings for is the same person behind the account... and the same person who thinks he’s in love with their best friend?

< prev || masterlist || next >

Wonwoo and Mingyu had been the final two to arrive at the restaurant that Saturday, half an hour late because the buses had been off schedule. Despite the fact that they had confirmed the reservation the past Sunday, the week had felt far longer. Wonwoo knew because it had been eventful, from you coming into the store on Monday to everything in-between his outing with you the day before. He already knew he was in for questions (and potentially some teasing), so he found refuge in the little moments he had leading up to it. Finding the group was easy enough with a reservation for fourteen (thanks to Jihoon’s partner tagging along), especially when some of them had already started drinking after he and Mingyu gave the go-ahead with an unpredictable arrival time. Mingyu had been just a step ahead, casually greeting everyone as he ended up taking one of the two empty chairs--the one right next to Seokmin that Wonwoo had honestly been hoping to grab so he could question him about upcoming Shakespeare performances. The room seemed to start quieting down when Wonwoo entered, and Seungcheol hushed them further after Wonwoo took his seat.

“How did it go?”

He was confused for about half a second at why Seungcheol felt the need to silence everyone, but he settled for an “Okay” a second later.

“Liar!” Seungkwan said, already a little pink in the face. Wonwoo could tell that he’d started drinking earlier. “I saw you two!” He said, “You looked at her like--” and then he paused, imitating the heart-fluttering look he’d probably seen in dramas before.

“He did,” Mingyu confirmed with a laugh.

Seungkwan he knew saw him when the two of you had passed by the shop. But Mingyu? “When did you--”

“You passed by the shop,” Seungkwan answered anyway. “You didn’t tell me you liked Sunny!”

Wonwoo stared for a moment. “You know her?”

“They work together,” Vernon said, already looking back at his phone. He was typing something out, but still listening to the conversation at hand. “She always gives me free cookies.”

Jun had taken a long sip of whatever he’d been drinking. “Why didn’t any of us know that?”

Seungkwan huffed, “Because she always works the other shifts and you guys only come in when I work because you’re unloyal!”

“Disloyal,” Woonwoo and Minghao said without thinking.

A pause. Vernon typed something into his phone. “I think unloyal is accepted--”

Soonyoung quickly shushed him. “The English majors said disloyal, so it must be true.”

Wonwoo could see Jihoon’s partner rolling their eyes before smiling at that. They leaned in so they could see what Jihoon was looking at on his phone, and he noticed the little glance Jihoon gave them. It was always subtle with them, but sweet. Wonwoo couldn’t help but wonder if the two of you could be like that.

“We’re changing the topic,” Joshua said in a sing-song tone. “I thought we were going to ask about Wonwoo’s date and get it out of the way.”

“It wasn’t a date--”

Jun spoke up, “Did she pass the test?”

“... Test?”

Jeonghan nodded. “Does she have a good taste in books, or do you just like her because she’s smart?”

Wonwoo nearly rolled his eyes at that. “People can like whatever they want.”

Chan shook his head, “I told you I read Twilight once and you had a really long conversation about how the main characters are bland but the background characters are interesting and how much that ruins the experience, even without the toxic relationship. I didn’t even say I liked it.”

“She passed, by the way,” Mingyu mentioned. “He keeps staring at the books she bought him with heart eyes,” he smiled to himself. “He took one of them to work. He’s already a fourth of the way through it.”

“It’s a romance novel,” he said. “Of course I’m happy because she picked one with a sweet story.”

Jeonghan gasped, smacking Joshua’s arm, “She recommended a romance novel?!”

Wonwoo looked back over. “Yes? And a book of poetry--”

“It’s a sign,” Chan whispered.

Seokmin rolled his eyes, having just been listening to this conversation. “It could just be her taste in books.”

“No, it’s a sign,” Chan insisted further. “I think she’s hinting at something.”

Seungcheol shook his head, “Chan, no--”

Soonyoung had noticed the uncomfortable look on Wonwoo’s face, speaking up to change the topic to give him some sense of relief. It wasn’t that Wonwoo didn’t like talking about you--he did, truly--but the idea that you “meant something” based on the books you picked out was making him feel weird. If you liked him, you’d just tell him outright... right? You said they were books that you liked. Just because one of them happened to be a romance didn’t mean you were telling him something. Unless you were, in which you should really just tell him outright if you liked him like that. Wonwoo was smart, but he wasn’t going to purposefully read into something he hoped was true. Even if you did leave a little note inside the cover to let you know what he thought of it, complete with a little flower doodle and a small bear next to it.

Mingyu excused himself at one point to go to the bathroom, giving Wonwoo the perfect time to lean over to Seokmin and ask if he knew of any upcoming Shakespeare productions in the area.

“We’re not doing any this semester, but I’ll check,” he had said, pulling out his phone. Then he paused, a glimmer of intrigue in his eyes. “Is this for a date?”

Again, Wonwoo had to insist, “It’s not a date.” Not yet. Not until he knew for sure.

But Seokmin only smiled, typing something into his phone as Wonwoo was pulled back into a conversation about movies led by film major Vernon recounting something he’d watched for class.

It was nice to spend time with his friends, especially after they dropped the topic of his (not) date with you. Most of the group ended up drinking, leaving him as one of the few sober ones around (Joshua had to work tomorrow morning, and Jihoon’s partner was staying sober in order to drag both JIhoon and Soonyoung home safely). Seokmin would later whisper to him that there was nothing going on except a production of Macbeth, to which Wonwoo just thanked him and kept that in mind. He’d look into it later, if you were interested. He’d hoped for Much Ado and he could make do with Macbeth. Mingyu curled an arm around his shoulders, laughing about something later on as the night flew past. Soon enough he had his roommate and best friend slung against him as the two stood outside, trying to get a cab.

Then he heard someone call his name, and turned to see Jihoon’s partner standing there, glancing back at their two drunk friends having an animated conversation about something--Wonwoo couldn’t tell, and he suspected they couldn’t, either. “If it helps... I think you should ask her out.”

He didn’t know what to say. Sure, they were part of the reason he became friends with the rest of the group (they did have really good conversations, after all), but...

“If you think she’s into you, you shouldn’t wait,” they said with a smile. “I think Jihoon regrets not saying anything sooner, even if I’m glad things ended up the way they did. I just think you should figure things out with Sunny so you don’t regret the time you spent not together... if that makes sense?” They paused, chewing at the inside of their cheek for a moment, and glancing back when Soonyoung grew suddenly louder for a moment. “You seem happy,” they looked back at him, taking one step back toward the drunken pair. “Just know we’re all rooting for you, alright?”

He knew, but hearing them say it out loud brought him some comfort. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And he did. He helped bring Mingyu back to the apartment, leaving water and painkillers by his bed in case he woke up with a hangover the next morning, and went to settle into his room for the night. He’d left his book on his night-side table, blue sticky notes sticking out from between the pages he’d read. Most of the time the notes he’d take were about symbolism, or anything he could use for a future essay. This time they were questions he’d written about why you loved this story so much, moments that he’d enjoyed, things he could discuss with you just to see the pretty way you’d light up.

Truthfully, Wonwoo thought that getting to know you might pull back the curtains a bit. That he’d start seeing you in a different light. In a sense, that was what was happening. You stopped being just the pretty girl in his literature classes who was smart and contributed to discussions in ways he didn’t expect--like the time you talked about a war veteran reclaiming survivalism at the end of the book, taking back something that had been done out of necessity and getting a part of himself back. You were someone who seemed to find joy in the lovely things in life, like the bookstore you’d taken him to and in the strawberry pancakes you claimed to love. He already knew you loved your friends, but he first hand experienced how lovingly you spoke about someone like Jiyoung instead of just watching the playful way you interacted with her from a distance. Wonwoo already knew you were a warm person, but having that presence seem to envelope him the same way vanilla and honey could warm a soul was different than seeing it from the sidelines. You said “Sunny” was a nickname because of a sunflower sweater, and yet it seemed to fit you all the same: warm, nurturing, and invigorating. He felt no pressure in your conversations, and words seemed to flow easily between the two of you.

He liked this. It was a step forward, and he was happy to take it all one step at a time if it means the two of you would be comfortable.

You didn’t see Wonwoo for a few days after your little outing with him. If you were honest with yourself, it didn’t bother you too much. You’d see him on Tuesday in class, and maybe you could figure out something else for the two of you to do in the meantime. But Eunji had cornered you that Monday, asking (or, rather, insisting) that you invite Wonwoo along to your study group. You’d been “hiding” him long enough (barely a week) and it was unfair that both Junghoon and Jiyoung knew him but she didn’t. She wasn’t all that mad, to be honest, since Junghoon met him by chance and Jiyoung only knew him through filling major requirements, but it was time for him to “get approved by the friend circle.” Despite your further insistence that Wonwoo was just a friend, you asked him if he could meet up anyway. This was a way you could potentially start pushing him towards Jiyoung, especially if you wanted something to happen before the end of the semester. Finals weren’t a hard deadline, because now that you had his number you could keep in contact with him, but it’d be far easier to start pushing them together before graduation. You told him that he didn’t even have to stay the entire time, but Jiyoung was there and the three of you could discuss class notes from that morning. He agreed easily enough, response coming barely within a minute or two of you asking.

So, being the one person among your group who didn’t have a class right before the typical meet-up time, you showed up early to snag your group’s favorite table near the front of the library. It was right by the windows where Eunji could enjoy the natural light while she worked, and she could people-watch when she was in deep thought. You unpacked your things, setting your water bottle on the table before adjusting things perfectly. Your book for class, your notebook, and your laptop--always right there in case you needed to look up an author’s background or fact-check something history-related. Junghoon arrived soon enough, taking the seat diagonal to you--the other seat would be for Eunji, and either Jiyoung or Wonwoo would get to sit next to you, and greeted you casually enough. If he wasn’t approving of the whole ‘invite Wonwoo’ thing, he didn’t say. He certainly wouldn’t with anyone else around, at least, and thankfully Eunji had shown up soon enough and taken her place across from you.

“Please don’t scare Wonwoo off,” you said to her.

Eunji merely smiled. “No promises.” She rested her head in her hands, gazing at you. “Where is he?”

“He had a class,” you said. “He’s coming.”

“As long as he is,” she hummed, and then began to busy herself with getting out her own work.

“He’s still just a friend,” you said again. “But he said he was happy to meet you guys.”

Junghoon gave you another cautious look. You rolled your eyes at him, turning your attention out the window. Despite the fact all four of you (save for you and Jiyoung, technically, with one of her majors being literature) had no classes in common anymore, you’ve found that studying together as a group helped a lot. All four of you were pretty curious about things, so sometimes it could help someone else to have to explain things to someone who genuinely wants to know more about it. Eunji’s explained plenty of math concepts to you that you’d never use, which typically would help her realize where she was going wrong in an equation; Jiyoung had remembered the order of events more precisely due to Junghoon’s own inquiries of what happened and when; and all of you knew way too much about coding and the things that can go wrong in a program just because of how elaborate Junghoon could get. Your own literature discussions were usually between you and Jiyoung, but sometimes Eunji would pipe up with her own thoughts based off what the two of you were saying, or Junghoon would push for a little more knowledge about what you meant by certain symbolic elements. It worked. The first floor of the library was pretty much reserved for group work, but you four made sure to never get too loud anyway.

Three phones buzzed as Jiyoung messaged the group chat that she’d be there in a minute. When you looked back out the window, you could see her booking it across campus. Eunji leaned forward watching alongside you. Her bag bounced against her with every step, and honestly it made you remember that she was on the track team apparently. Even when slightly red with exertion, she was still pretty--which felt a little unfair. You’d just be sweaty and feeling gross. She’d at least look fine in comparison once the color died back down. She grew closer by the second, an apology probably already on the back of her mind despite the fact no one would be upset with her if she had taken her time.

“Wait,” Junghoon leaned forward, “is that--”

Jiyoung ran straight into Wonwoo, knocking his books to the ground as he fumbled to catch her. The two steadied themselves, looking up as she awkwardly smiled at him before she immediately began to profusely apologize for what had just happened. She had kneeled down immediately, already starting to gather up his things as she continued to apologize--probably saying that she was late and wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and asking if he was okay.

Eunji rolled her eyes, turning back to the open notebook in front of her. “I thought meet-cutes only happened in dramas.”

You thought so, too, but you just continued to watch the pair. Wonwoo had joined her a second later, organizing his things back into the neat stack they were in. She reached for a familiar book, and you leaned forward, staring and studying it enough to confirm that Wonwoo had been carrying the book of poetry you’d bought him. A strange swell of jealousy built up inside of you, and you pushed it back away while you kept watching. Jiyoung’s fingers brushed against his, the syllables of her name forming on her mouth as if he didn’t already know who she was (both due to whatever feelings he had for her, plus the fact you remembered the project she was on with him and Minghao).

This was what always meant to happen, you told yourself. It was inevitable.

Jiyoung came into the library with Wonwoo on her heels, pausing just long enough to wave at the attendant on duty before continuing over to your little group.

“Look who I found!” She giggled.

“Ran into,” Junghoon had corrected. “We saw.”

“You did?” She gasped, taking her seat at the head of the table. But she didn’t let it get her down too much, smiling up at Wonwoo, “At least we made it, right?”

Wonwoo just nodded, taking the empty seat between you and Jiyoung. He looked at you, a quiet “hi“ tumbling from his lips before he gave you that same shy smile he’d given Jiyoung earlier. Then you realized that, oh, shit, he already knew most of the table...

“You already know Jiyoung,” you quickly said, “and technically you met Junghoon the other day at the diner,” Junghoon raised a hand in greeting while you continued on, gesturing across the table, “but this is Eunji.” After Eunji gave her own little wave, you still continued, “she’s a mathematics major, and Junghoon’s computer science. We just like to get together to work things out.”

Wonwoo nodded along. “That’s smart.”

Eunji was already pulling out her headphones. “Today’s going to be a lot of literature talk, isn’t it?” She always popped in one earbud  to listen to jazz as she worked, the other left dangling so she could keep up with the conversation.

“Yep,” Junghoon stretched out the word. “But that’s fine. Sunny and Jiyoung usually have fun conversations.”

“Jiyoung takes really good notes!” You chimed back in, “Show him!”

She flushed, giggling as she started to pull out her notebook for your class on classic literature. “They’re not that good,” she’d already been flipping to the notes from that day’s lecture, color-coded and neatened up since that morning. She probably worked on them while getting lunch off campus, new lines drawn in under certain words and a few additional sticky notes with thoughts she’d had since then.

That was all you had needed to strike up conversation as Jiyoung started to walk Wonwoo through her note-taking habits, explaining how she liked to usually go back over everything after class either with you or on her own and make it pretty. Her collection of highlighters and gel pens were massive for a reason. Wonwoo actively listened to her, nodding along and asking questions from time to time. At one point, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, just to get a moment to yourself. You weren’t... jealous, were you? This had always been the plan, and it was starting to work. Wonwoo liked Jiyoung. That was a fact, you knew it, and yet you were starting to wonder why the idea of pushing them together was feeling more and more wrong as time went on. On your way back, you noticed the way the library assistant was looking at Jiyoung with that same soft expression anyone who crushed on her had.

Must be nice to be conventionally pretty....

So you shook it off and decided to let Jiyoung and Wonwoo have a little more time to talk to one another. You cautiously approached the guy sitting behind the desk, getting his attention. You rattled off the title of the other Higashino book just to see if maybe the library carried it somewhere, and in a stroke of luck, it did. The assistant--Hyunwoo, his little plastic nametag said--offered to help you find it, and you took him up on the offer.

“We’re not too loud, right?” You asked.

He looked up, and then shook his head. “No! You guys are always fine,” he said. “I thought I recognized one of your friends.”

You’d taken his response and just nodded. Fair enough, you supposed. Hyunwoo guided you over to where it’d be, helping you find it before helping you check it out as well. You thanked him and returned to your table, setting it down before slipping back into your seat. Wonwoo had looked back at you for a moment, eyes glancing down before he smiled to himself and turned back to what Jiyoung had been saying. All you could focus on was the sweet way he smiled at her.

One step closer. Especially when you later saw Jiyoung tweet about how some people could be so cute. She’d cover herself by proceeding to mention all three of you, but you knew. The group even gave their seal of approval (which, in Jiyoung’s case, was a literal picture of a seal the moment Junghoon had said the phrase). It was nice to know they all liked Wonwoo, especially if the day came that he asked Jiyoung out.

Or... if she asked him out. That one looked a lot more likely. You just had to figure out a way to push him to act without making it obvious. Easier said than done.

taglist: [ask to be added!] @yoongischeeksluv @rebelspy @mystiicturtle @hwashiningstar @x-veex @nothingbutadeadesceane​

[parkersbliss]

My Girl | B. Barnes

pairing: (tfatws) bucky barnes x female!reader, slight SLIGHT john walker x reader

warnings: no-no words, john walker, tfatws spoilers?

wc; 800ish

synopsis: first he takes the shield, and then tries to take you? not on bucky’s watch

a/n: oh man have I missed writing for bucky

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

“John!” You exclaim, hopping into the vehicle and giving him a brief hug. “Wow, look at you!”

He laughs, stepping back, showing off his new uniform. “It’s different, isn’t it?”

You nod, mouth open. “Yeah, really.”

“You guys know each other?” Bucky asked, taking a hesitant seat.

“Yeah, we went to high school together. We went to prom together one year.”

Walker chuckles, “Yeah, it was a fun time.”

You force a laugh. “Maybe for you, I remember that night very differently.”

Walker shrugs, and Bucky doesn’t read the slight tension between you. He’s too busy keeping himself in check, his jaw tightening at your friendly interaction. This was the guy replacing Steve.

How could you like him?

He was never going to amount to the kind of person Steve was, not even half.

But here you were treating him like he was.

“(L/N), you went to prom with this guy?” Sam asked, the same disproving expression on his face.

You give a tight-lipped smile, “Yeah, high school prom. Don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” He said, giving you a cheeky smile.

You roll your eyes at the two boys, sitting back next to Bucky and across from Walker.

You were well aware of the strong distaste towards Walker, and honestly, you don’t blame them. Even you were still slightly bitter about it.

But Walker had been your friend, Sam and Bucky would give him enough shit anyway, might as well be the nice guy.

Though, if you had the chance, you would gladly snatch the shield from his hands. Walker was a good person, as far as you could remember. But the only person worthy of that shield was Steve. You knew that.

But until Walker does something unworthy of it, the shield belongs to him.

“How’d you end up here?” Walker asked, gesturing between you and the boys. Clearly, he’s only talking to you.

“What do you mean?”

“How’d you end up working with them? I mean, don’t get me wrong. Mad respect for you both, but I just think you’d be more helpful with me. Clearly, we won’t be working together.”

Your lips part unsure if that was an insult directed at Bucky and Sam, and if you should give some sort of snarky response.

“My first priority is them, John.”

The said boy holds his hand up in defense. He can sense the accusatory tone in your voice. He really doesn’t want to piss you off of all people. He needs you on his side, not theirs. “Right, sorry, (N/N). I should’ve known.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow at the use of the nickname. His hands are clenched together as he resists the urge to slap the smirk off of Walker’s face. Bucky could care less about your past with him. If given the chance, he would gladly shove that shield down his throat.

Walker was the enemy, no questions about it.

“You look great by the way,” Walker smiled. “I don’t think I said that earlier. Just as beautiful as prom day.”

Before you get a chance to reply (not that you had one, you were debating between telling him to be professional or a simple thank you), Bucky grabs your arm.

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” He said as the driver stops the vehicle so the heroes can jump out.

“It was just a compliment!” Walker called out, laughing to himself. “I’ll see you around!”

Bucky shakes his head, sending Walker a death glare. “No, you won’t.”

Walker quirks an eyebrow at the ex-assassin, but then the vehicle starts up again, and he’s gone.

As soon as he is, you shake yourself from Bucky’s grip, eyeing him up and down. “What the hell was that?”

Sam stays silent, trying to hide the grin on his face as he knows what’s about to come.

“That was fucking Walker flirting with you!”

“Bucky-”

“No, okay, listen to me, he doesn’t get to prance in here all Captain America thinking he can save the day and take my girl.”

Sam chokes, coughing loudly to cover it up. He repeatedly hits his chest, looking away.

Once he’s done, you look to Bucky, eyebrows raised. “My girl?”

Bucky smacks his lips together, rubbing his chin. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant,” He sighs, “I don’t know. Walker just gets on my nerves. If you like him, that’s fine, and it’s not my place to intervene.”

You scoff, a smile spreading across your lips. “I don’t give a damn about Walker. There’s only one person that has my heart anyway.”

Bucky’s lips quirk up into a smile. The action is so minimal you almost miss it. “You’re talking about me, right?”

You shrug, “I only see one jealous super soldier boyfriend.”

“I wasn't jealous!” Bucky huffs.

“Right,” You said, rolling your eyes before smirking. “You’re not denying the second part.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Bucky whispers, the air around you growing thicker as he takes a small, tentative step towards you.

“Oh my god!” Sam shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “Just kiss already and agree to a date. Some of us have a life to get to.”

Bucky chuckles at Sam, but he listens and grabs your face between his hands before kissing you softly.

You smile into the kiss, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck and pulling him closer.

“For the record,” You said when he pulled away. “The night ended horribly with Walker because he tried to kiss me.”

“That asshole-”

— END —

tagged: @yodaboo​

[thefanficmonster]

Let Them Talk

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno

Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy

Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst

Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.

Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤

Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name

I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 

“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.

Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.

Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.

I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 

It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.

When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.

And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...

“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 

…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”

The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”

Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.

“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 

His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“

Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.

At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.

“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.

Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“

Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”

Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”

Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.

“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.

I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.

The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 

“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.

Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.

I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.

I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.

“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.

“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“

“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.

“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 

Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.

“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 

His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?

Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.

“Baby....“

He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”

It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.

“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”

“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.

“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.

“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“

I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.

“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“

Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”

I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

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