#never has a moment gone ‘ah you are /fucked/‘ so hard

[ere-the-sun-rises]

@maybe-im-dark Want some angsty sweetness?

| | |

"He was sick, you know."

Logan stops dead in his tracks, because this abrupt change in topic was entirely unexpected. "Pardon?"

"My Logan." She continues, idly looking through the cereal on the shelves as they peruse the grocery store. "He was sick. That's what actually killed him."

"Oh." He's deeply uncomfortable with this, but he likes Laura, and she deserves to be heard, so he lets her speak.

"The wounds would keep bleeding and he got infections in his hands. Sometimes I saw him have to pull out his claws, or push them back in. Bruises would linger on his face and he would keel over from exhaustion constantly. He even needed glasses to read." She smiles slightly, fond and distant. "But he tried. By god, did he try. He gave everything he had for us, for me. In the end, that meant his life too."

"Ah." He has nothing to that. Even if he wanted to die - and fuck has he ever tried - he knows he can't.

"It meant a lot to me, to be worth protecting and dying for." She briefly meets his gaze with a knowing quirk of the lips. "It's hard to feel saved by someone else when you heal no matter what."

"Yeah." He admits softly. "It can be."

"It meant a lot, and it still does. No one will ever replace him, or become who he was to me." She puts a box of Wade's favourite cereal in the cart, then grabs its edge so he doesn't push any further. She's tense for a moment, face shielded by the curtain of her hair. "I'll love him forever for it. But it's an ugly feeling, being died for. You're alone, without that safety you've come to know and no idea if you'll ever feel it again - just that this instance of it is gone forever."

He takes her hand, heart breaking in sympathy. "I'l sorry, kid."

She meets his gaze again, always so sure and steady. "You'll never be him."

"I know. I-"

"I wasn't done." She cuts in and he snaps his mouth shut. She keeps him pinned under her dark eyes. "You are not a replacement for him, because I was lucky enough to get to lose him and I am lucky again and get to keep you."

He squeezes her hand, overwhelmed with sentimentality. "Laura ... "

"I got to grow up because of him, but I want to grow older alongside you. You're not him, and that's good. I want someone alive to love me too." She looks away again. "To be safe with."

He can't help himself and pulls her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "I will be. Always."

She hugs him back, face buried in his shoulder. "Good."

Now I like me some angst with Laura and Logan however there is much more potential with it being less angsty.

Laura morning her father yes but Worst Wolverine as a replacement wouldn't be as angsty as some people imagine.

Laura could never replace the men who saved her life but she isn't trying to. That Logan loved her deeply even if he didn't show it, but he was dead now. He sacrificed himself for her and she would always be thankful for that.

She however isn't tore up about growing close to the new Logan. She knows her father would want her to move on to love how she chooses and so she does with no reservations. This new Logan is just as much her father as the other and neither are replacements.

Worst Wolverine of course is doubtful he's more torn up about it than Laura herself. He isn't that kind of hero he insists on it. Laura just shakes her head at him and explains he is also her father any Logan is.

She is sure her Logan wherever he is is proud and happy that she can move on. She has Logan and Wade now did she just knows that wherever he is watching he couldn't be prouder.

[ziracona]

No moment in any horror game will ever be able to be scarier than that time in Oxenfree when you’ve become aware something very supernatural and very bad is going on, but not what yet, and you’ve been picking up clues and bait and threats on the radio from whatever is here as you go, and walking around a decommissioned army base with Jonas trying to find Clarissa before she gets hurt, your radio picks up a signal that in Bugs Bunny’s voice goes “Mmm this looks like onea them there booby-traps.”

Literally no jumpscare, singing nursery rhyme, ominous music has ever had the raw power of that.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi girlie! Can you write something about baby daddy Rafe? Set in a FWB universe and reader ends up pregnant because he loves c*ming inside her? Love your works they keep me up at night in the best way 🤭🤍

masterlist

requests are open

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut at the beginning, unprotected sex, fwb (kinda?)

a/n: hey, love❤️ i wasn't sure whether you wanted them to end up together or not, so i made something in between. i got inspired and wrote another part for this one which i may post later, but i'm open to changing/adding something if y'all have any ideas.

“Rafe… we shouldn’t do this— ah, fuck, please!” You cried out, your back arching from the bed, seeking more attention from his lips to your sensitive nipples. 

“I can’t stop. It’s gonna be okay, just one time, baby.” He grumbled, sucking in your skin. Rafe was pounding into your poor body without any mercy; he was too excited to be bare inside of you for the first time. 

When you came to his place, you two quickly found out that you ran out of condoms that were usually stacked on his bedside table, but you were too far gone to stop it. You were naked, your pussy was leaking with arousal, his dick was so painfully hard and it was hard to think straight. You didn’t want to stop and Rafe managed to convince you to let him fuck you raw. 

You knew how fucking stupid you were and that he might easily get you pregnant, but at that exact moment, the only thing on your mind was the feeling of his bare cock. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. I wanna cum inside of your pretty pussy. Shit—you're squeezing me so hard, you like this idea, hm?” He kept slapping his hips against yours harder and harder, causing you to moan in despair and grip his shoulders. You tried to say no, but, in all honesty, you didn’t want to. The stretch was so delicious, and the feeling of his cock filling you completely made you feel dizzy. And having him cum inside? You could have an orgasm just thinking about it. 

No more than thirty seconds later, when you finally reached your height, his cock twitched inside and Rafe let out the sexiest moan you’ve ever heard. You felt liquid warmth covering your inside and moaned, squeezing and milking everything he could have you. 

You were playing with fire and it was just a matter of time before everything would go wrong. No matter how stupid and reckless it was, you didn’t stop. Rafe was now obsessed with the feeling of being inside of you without a barrier; he could not help himself when he had you spread out in front of him, ready to be filled. 

It was the best feeling that both of you experienced, but for some reason, you didn’t even try to find another form of contraception. You should have known better. You should have insisted on protection, but there was something intoxicating about the way he took you—the way he groaned your name as he filled you up. It was reckless, dangerous, and oh-so-addictive.

So it was not that big of a surprise when, just two months later, you saw two lines on the test. 

You weren’t dating, even if it has always felt like much more than just sex, so you never expected Rafe to be happy about the possibility of having a baby. You thought he would end everything immediately and simply run away. Yet he was the complete opposite. 

During your pregnancy, Rafe never left your side and made sure to attend every medical appointment, buy every single vitamin and satisfy all of your cravings.

You wanted to eat some weird shit from the store at 2am? He brought it to you in less than twenty minutes. Your body was aching and you didn’t want to do anything? He organised a spa day for you. You had terrible mood swings and cried every ten minutes? He was patient and he did everything he could to make you feel better. 

You quickly fell into that kind of domestic routine. It was comfortable, and it felt right to have him beside you all the time. While your baby was growing inside of you, you both realised more with every passing day that the feelings that you two had were serious. Because you were on each other’s mind’s 24/7, you stayed in yours or his place all the time, and you couldn’t just keep your hands away. 

When Rafe first felt your baby kick, he was over the moon and he had the biggest smile on his face. He repeatedly kissed your belly before falling asleep with his head on your thighs and his hand on your bump. 

As soon as your little girl arrived in the world, Rafe completely fell into daddy mode. He was fussing over her, insisting on spending as much time with her as possible. He never complained when he had to change her diapers or wake up in the middle of the night because of her cries.

He is such a girl dad, and the moment she looked at him with her blue eyes, he was wrapped around her tiny finger. 

Rafe loves being a dad; he loves taking care of his girls, even if you are still not officially his. He makes sure to do everything to make you feel comfortable and give you enough rest. 

He may not be perfect in it, but he’s trying his best and he hasn’t regretted ever getting into this with you. 

[gilverrwrites]

Batguys when they have for the first time a vibrator put ON THEM (their dicks) by reader during sex ( they never experienced a toy on themselves before, it was always used on their girl if they were using toys).

AND I’m the same person that send the bat guys vibrators suggestion! What if the guys thought the vibrator was only for women and they’re proven other wise 😏😉

AN: I’m not convinced of them not knowing per se, so much as they’ve just never considered it for various reasons. So, in order of understood to least understood; Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Roy

Batman:

He knows full well the effects, he’s just hates to not be in control. So when you finally pin him down long enough to have your way, it’s because he lets you. When you teasingly glide the tip of your vibe along his length he purposely bucks his hips, urging you to use it on his sensitive tip, enjoying the whole commotion more than he thought he would.

The gloriously thick muscles of his thighs tense under his own self-restraint as you finally give him what wants.

“You’re taking it so well Brucie.” You coo and he glares at you from beneath his brow, trying and failing to maintain dominance but the rest of his body betrays him; his cheeks are tinted a precious shade of red, his broad chest heaving with each shallow breath.

When you praise him again; “You’re such a good boy.” He loses it completely.

Nightwing:

100% understands, but why would he ever want to use them on himself, when he could use them on you?

Then again, you’re so cute with those big puppy dog eyes, that mischievous grin when you ask to try something on him, how could he say no? And my god, he is a sight to behold. Even having seen the effect your bullet has on you, the way it makes you wither and moan uncontrollably, nothing could prepare him for his first experience.

He’s so loud, louder than you and just as unruly. His hands gripping tight to every surface, you, the headboard, the pillows, the mattress nothing satiates him. His long legs stretch, his toes curl, hips rolling and jerking for friction as his whole body shakes. Unable to muster the normal slew of filth he typically showers you with; he pants your name between obscenely breathless moans until he cums all over himself.

Side note: I swear, put this man in a vibrating cock ring, I need it.

Red Hood:

He’s just literally never thought about it before. One night you ask him to grab something from your bedside drawer and you’re surprised when he comes back holding your wand. When you ask if he wants to try it out, this is not what he expects.

Hell, if he’s not complaining though. Jason has never seen this kind of thing in action, so he’s lounging on the bed, legs spread wide as he leans against the headboard, not expecting too much.

When you tease the vibrating head along his shaft, causing it to twitch, he laughs and jokes about it tickling, but the moment you press it to the tip of his cock his whole body trembles.

“Ah, fuck baby.” He bites his lip, trying and failing to keep his eyes from rolling back. “Right there, right there, please don’t stop.”

Arsenal:

And if I may throw a wildcard in the mix;

Roy is exactly the kind of smart but dense kinda guy who could tinker away endlessly, making the perfect toys (out of equipment intended for weaponry might I add) to meet your needs, things meant to fill you in all the right spaces, to vibrate and pulse at the strength and speed that drives you wild, without it ever occurring to him that it could be used on him too.

He’s already hard as a rock and close to the edge after you’ve gone down on him, when you show him what you’re doing he lazily mumbles “Oh come on baby, that’s not gonna do anything.”

He’s proven almost immediately wrong. He’s lovingly cupping your face or holding your hair back but when he feels the vibrating sensation on his already sensitive cock his grip automatically tightened like a vice.

The skin from his cheeks to his belly growing hotter with each pulse until his body is just a few shades lighter than his hair, he’s sweating, eyes watering, begging for release and when you grant it he nearly tumbles over, legs weak and trembling.

[lovebugism]

#20 from the jealousy, jealousy prompt list with steve pls 🫶🏼

steve doesn't realize he's in love with you until he gets a glimpse of you with someone else (fwb to lovers, fluff, 1.2k)

Steve Harrington spent the entire summer thinking he was the only one who thought your Scoops Ahoy uniform was way hotter than should be allowed. 

The thigh-high socks. The short skirt. The pretty ascot tied around your neck. It was a diabolical concoction. And, yeah, sure, the sailor theme was an acquired taste, but Steve has always been a firm believer that you could wear anything and make him fall to his knees. He’d worship you like a goddess in a goddamn parka, he’s that far gone for you.

The only problem is he thought he was the only one.

He loved you so much that everything else just became white noise. There was never any room for anyone else to love you ‘cause he adored you the most. Or he thought so, at least — until a pretty boy with circle glasses and a chiseled jawline talked you up at the front counter. For ten fucking minutes straight.

He watches the stranger cross the threshold of Scoops, with a sundae in his hand and a dumb smile on his stupid face. “Who was the guy?” Steve blurts from the opened partition the second he’s gone. He folds his golden arms over the countertop, biceps threatening to burst from the navy sleeves of his uniform.

“A friend,” you answer casually as you sort change in the register.

His fluffy brows pinch then relax a moment later. He pouts at the vague response because he can’t handle not knowing. “Seems like you two are real close,” he lilts, trying hopelessly to play it cool.

“We are, actually,” you tell him. You drop the remaining quarters into their designated section and flash him a pretty look over your shoulder. “I’ve known him since I was a teenager— sophomore year, I think?”

Steve nods slowly, feigning interest. “Ah. High school sweethearts, then?”

You slide the opened register closed with your hip. It clunks shut behind you as you spin around to face him. You walk the short distance to the back counter, skirt swishing around your thighs as you go. Steve tries hard not to pull away when you lean in towards him, choosing to bask in your unwavering stare and intoxicating perfume instead.

“You should watch what you say, Harrington,” you caution lowly. “I’m gonna start to think you’re jealous.”

He scoffs. “I am not jealous.”

“No?”

“No! No way,” he answers, too quickly to be convincing. “We’re— We said we were gonna do the whole unlabelled thing, so… That’s what we’re doing.”

You nod once. “Great,” you hum with a tightlipped smile, spinning away once more.

The door to the breakroom squeaks open a moment later. Steve lingers in the entryway, shifting on his feet like a nervous child in a sailor’s uniform. Crossing his arms over his chest, he peers at you through his lashes. 

“But it wouldn’t be, like, the worst thing in the world if I said I wanted to be the only one who, you know, looks into your eyes, and… holds your hands, and… hears you laugh…” he wonders lowly, scrunching the bridge of his nose. “Right?”

You don’t realize how big you’re smiling when you look back at him. “No,” you shrug, all cool despite your skipping heart. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Good,” Steve grins.

The small of your back digs into the counter’s edge when you turn to face him. You meet his pretty face with a sheepish one. “But it does go against everything we talked about it.”

The boy shrugs. “Well, then, screw it,” he blurts. 

“What?”

“I take it back.”

You laugh before you mean to. The golden sound echoes through the empty store. “That quickly?”

“Hush,” he pouts.

“It took me talking to some guy — who might as well be a stranger to me now, by the way — to change your mind about wanting to date me?” you elaborate with narrowed eyes.

Steve cowers under your stare. “…Kinda. Yeah.”

“So, what?” you scoff. “We’re boyfriend-girlfriend now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You grin up at him while he approaches you, all slow like he’s stalking prey — only you don’t entirely mind being hunted. “Pretty soon, we’ll be playing house if we’re not careful,” you joke, smoothing your palms up his torso.

A crooked grin blossoms on his pink mouth at the thought. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually,” he mumbles lowly.

“Steve…” you huff.

He laughs and cradles your jaw between softly calloused palms. “What?” he hums as he ducks down to kiss you. Your lips lock in a fleeting kiss — an innocuous spearmint-strawberry-chapstick concoction.

You let him kiss you, but your pout never wavers. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to move on,” you murmur.

“I like you?” he shrugs. “So what?”

“So what?” you parrot with a laugh. “We’re not kids anymore, you know? Relationships are pretty serious now, Steve.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

You meet his doe-eyed look with a sterner glare. “That’s the problem. That’s why we agreed to keep things lowkey. ‘Cause you can’t be serious about anything.”

“I can’t be serious about some things,” Steve insists with a boyish twist to his scruffy features. You arch your brow to egg him on. “Well, you, for starters— I haven’t even looked at anyone since I started seeing you, so… That’s gotta be a start, right?”

Your brows scrunch softly together. You don’t mean to look as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “You haven’t?”

“No,” he answers, chiseled features swirled like he’s tasted something sour. The thought never even crossed his mind despite distinctly keeping your relationship (or lack thereof, maybe) completely casual. “Have you?”

“No! I just… I thought that maybe you were, you know, keeping your options open or whatever.”

“So that means you’re not canoodling with Mister Jawline, right?” he jokes with a hopeful glint in his honeyed gaze.

You roll your eyes but decide to humor him anyway. “No, Steve,” you deadpan. 

He grins, prettier than should be allowed. “Good.”

You squint up at him. “Which means you’re not canoodling with Miss Redhead-Nice-Boobs, who comes in every week just to talk to you. Right?”

Steve’s brows furrow. His dark eyes flit between both of yours as he tries to figure out who exactly you’re referring to. “Who?” he wonders with a cartoonish lilt to his voice.

You’re pout deepens ‘cause you don’t know what he’s playing at. Her name’s Cherry — which you think is pretty easy to remember, considering her fiery auburn curls and ruby red lipstick. She’s tall and lean and effortlessly beautiful. Too pretty to be jealous of. You can’t help but admire her.

So Steve’s confusion is equally dumbfounding.

“You do like me, don’t you?” you murmur with a suspicious squint.

He laughs. “Does that surprise you?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

His nose scrunches. “Still wanna be boyfriend-girlfriend with me, though?”

You purse your lips to the side and pretend to ponder the question “Sure,” you shrug after a few moments, rising to the tips of your toes to smack a quick kiss to his mouth. 

You greet a group of customers a second later, while Steve restocks the tubs of ice cream. Totally casual. Not at all lovesick.

Well… maybe a little.

[starlightxsvt]

Ruined | sibilance. 2

synopsis ➳ you are trying hard to move on from him. you thought it would be easy but you should have remembered. never underestimate jeon wonwoo.

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo

genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig

word count ➳ 4.7k

warnings ➳ drunk pi cheolin shenanigans, cursing, wonwoo being a toxic ex, jeonghan being a flirt, pussy eating, heavy makeouts, reader slaps wonwoo.

Chapter 1

The cold night air kisses your heated face, leaving behind a soothing feeling that you close your eyes and savour. 

From behind you, inside the restaurant, your colleagues continue chatting and laughing in loud voices, Mr. Pi's voice coming through particularly loud. As much as you enjoy having a drink or two with them after work, the noise was getting too much so currently, you are out here, getting some fresh air.

A figure moves beside you, catching your attention and you look to your left to see Jeonghan standing, a packet of cigarettes in his hand from which he pulls out one and puts it between his lips.

As he fishes into his pocket for something— a lighter you assume, his eyes meet yours and they flash with excitement as a smile kisses his lips. "Hey there. So you were here. I was wondering where you went to."

You laugh softly, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your naked fingers from the cold. "Yep, had to take a break from Mr. Pi's chatter."

Jeonghan laughs, sneaking a glance at your boss through the window of the restaurant and shaking his head. "Oh my god, he is a character isn't he?" You notice him slowly putting the cigarette he took out back in its home. 

"I know right," you nod. "By the way," you jut your chin to the poison stick. "Don't stop on my account."

"Ah," he looks down at the packet in his hand and with a smile starts playing with it, moving it between his long, bony fingers. "Nah, I'm trying to quit anyway. And since I'm in the presence of a lady, I should not smoke." He flashes you a lovely grin, the usual teasing present in his voice. 

Classic Jeonghan. 

You shake your head in amusement, your eyes once again shifting to the packet in his hand. 

Wonwoo used to smoke. 

You begged him to stop, especially after seeing the harsh fit of coughs he would suffer from. 

Gosh, it has been almost a month since you last saw him. How is he doing? Has he gone back to smoking? 

Fuck, why do you still care so much?

“If you are really trying to quit, try keeping some lollipops with you,” you offer, giving him the same advice you gave Wonwoo. The man nods and hums thoughtfully but before he can reply, the conversation is interrupted by a sudden commotion. You both whip your head behind to see your three other colleagues supporting your drunk boss by holding him up as they step out of the restaurant, sighing and coaxing the intoxicated man to listen to them. He doesn’t. Instead, Mr. Pi sags lower, singing at the top of his lungs, “Chunsun-ie Chunsun-ie, my dear Chunsun-ie…” You cringe, shaking your head at him mentioning his ex for the hundredth time. 

Jeonghan rushes over, pulling the older man to his feet, “Oh dear, Mr. Pi, you are wasted, aren’t you? Let’s get you a cab.”

The man lifts him, easing the burden on your other colleagues who sigh and take a moment to catch their breath. Jeonghan, along with a few others, supports Mr. Pi to keep him standing and hails him a cab while a junior colleague walks to you to hand your purse that you left at your seat. 

As a colleague stands at the edge of the pavement, looking for a cab, your drunk boss tries to stand on his own even though his body keeps leaning from side to side. “You!” He points at you with a sudden burst of energy, making you jolt. “My most hardworking, most efficient employee!”

Oh boy.

“You get all the pretty boys, no?” He chuckles. “First the Chairman’s son and now our dear Mr. Yoon!” He hiccups, falling over to Jeoghnan’s side who catches him and flashes a rather amused smile at you.

You tuck your chin low and rub your temples out of embarrassment.

The older man continues, even louder this time, “You chose well! Our Mr. Yoon is a great man! The star of our firm! You guys would be— what do the kids call it these days?” He stops and furrows his brows, concentrating. “Oh, right, a power couple!” He chuckles some more.

“We would be,” Jeonghan humours him, throwing a wink at you. “You are so right, Mr. Pi. Oh look, your cab is here…”

You watch everyone help the boss into the cab and bid him farewell before heaving out a collective sigh of relief and saying their goodbyes. Then once again, silence settles and it is only you and Jeonghan.

His gaze locks with yours and he bursts out laughing. Soon, you follow, a pearl of laughter bubbling up from deep within your belly, so loud and free that you feel a tear form in your eye.

It has been a while since you have laughed like this. After ending things with Wonwoo, you had been feeling low, growing unsure about everything. Then, earlier this week, on Monday, showed up Yoon Jeonghan, a legend at your law firm who was at the Japan branch for the past two years. Charismatic, handsome and smart, Yoon Jeonghan is the perfect package, a natural scene stealer who brought joy to everyone in the office.

You are impressed by him, like everyone else and you consider it a blessing that you are working closely with him. His wits and tenacity were often talked about at the office and you always wondered how he would be as a person.

You were not disappointed.

“He is hilarious.” Jeonghan shakes his head, catching his breath after his laughs die down. You nod, still grinning. 

A silence settles as you two start walking side by side. Jeonghan’s warmth next to you is ever prevalent, as you two walk in tandem, the sound of your steps on the concrete in symphony. Sometimes, his arm brushes with yours and you take subtle peeks at his face to see if it was an accident. You find no answers in his visage.

“What do you think of that?” He voices after a long break of silence.

“About what?” You push up your glasses, looking at him. 

“Us, being a power couple.”

You flush, quickly averting your gaze, and pulling your muffler up to cover your chin. “Well, by power couple if you mean partners fighting crime then sure, I would love to.”

“But not romantically?” There is that familiar hint of tease in his voice.

You neither reply nor meet his gaze, focusing on the patterns of the asphalt decorating the pavement. 

Jeonghan sighs loudly. “Is it about the boy Mr. Pi mentioned? The chairman’s son?”

“Yes.” Your reply is short.

“Lucky guy,” he whistles. “Should have done better.”

You stop in your tracks to face the man next to you. “Mr. Yoon, are you flirting with me?” You raise a brow.

“Took you a while to figure that out, no?” He grins, his smile flirtier than ever. “Also, I told you not to call me that. Jeonghan is fine.”

The smile of amusement creeping up on your lips is hard to resist so you bite down on your bottom lip, searching for words to say.

You decide it is best to be frank and straightforward from the get-go. “I was in a…casual relationship with him. I’m not making that mistake again. I need someone serious.” You explain.

“And you think I’m not serious?” Jeonghan challenges, leaning closer to you.

You open your mouth to reply but shut it immediately when a familiar figure appears in your peripheral vision. Your eyes trace the figure and your heart sinks when you realise who it is.

Wonwoo.

On the other side of the road, in front of the large convenience store, stands Wonwoo. The hoodie and the long coat he is wearing cover most of his frame and you might have not noticed him if it were not for the piercing gaze trained at you. 

He stands there, still as a statue, the lights of the convenience store behind him casting weird shadows on his face that do not take away the slightest of his beauty.

What are the chances?

Your heart is galloping.

Frozen in your place, your hands clench into tight fists as the tiny, rational part in your brain screams at you to walk away right now. 

Beside you, Jeonghan notices the shift and follows your gaze, looking at Wonwoo, who has now taken notice of the man next to you. Even from a distance, you can see the look in his eyes change as they become sharper and darker, focusing intently on Jeonghan. You know that look far too well. 

The look of violence.

Suddenly, you find the strength to move your legs. Prying your gaze off of him, you look at your colleague and speak as calmly as possible. “Mr. Yoon, let’s get a cab from the next block. Come on.” 

You take brisk steps ahead, not sparing another glance at Wonwoo. Jeonghan follows you and thankfully does not ask any questions.

—

Your hands stroke the top of his head, fingers combing through his soft fluffy hair in soothing patterns. His face remains pressed at your core, comfortably fitting between your legs as you lie on your back on your bed. A particular harsh suck on your core have you throwing your head back in pleasure, a long drawn out moan escaping your lips. 

He raises his head to look at you, a lazy, lustful shine sparkling in his gaze that has your heart and pussy throbbing. Your wetness coats his lips and chin, evoking a deep depravity within you. 

“Please.” You whisper.

“What do you want, princess?” He hums, the rich velvet of his voice wrapping around you luxuriously.

“M-make me come, please.”

“As you wish.” He flashes that dashing smirk of his, making you swoon.

His index and middle fingers slide inside you again, nestled between your tight walls. He curls his fingers, hitting that sensitive spot hidden inside you while his thumb brushes over your clit gently, making your whole body shiver.

“Fuck…” You pant, eyes squeezed shut, fingers gripping the bedsheets in an unrelenting hold. 

“You like it?” He coos.

You eagerly nod your head.

Wonwoo leans closer to your face his breath fanning your ear as whispers, “Say it. Say how good I make you feel.” His thumb presses into your hard bud, making you squeal.

“I love it! I love your fingers inside me!”

“Yeah?” A harsh breath falls from his lips, his heated eyes boring into you. “You like this?” His fingers pick up pace, moving so swiftly inside your walls, that the coil in your belly is about to snap any moment. You climb and climb, body taut and awaiting the sweet orgasm you can taste until…

You wake up in a cold sweat.

Disoriented, you look around and find yourself in your bed, still dressed in your work clothes.

Fuck, you came home and slept right away only to see that man haunt your dreams too.

You swallow, hands clutching the material of your bedsheet when you realise you are drenched through your underwear. 

Fuck, Jeon Wonwoo. Why can’t you just leave me alone?

—

You are back at Jeon Industries for a meeting with the chairman. 

The entire meeting room is crowded with the members of the legal team, all gathered to be briefed about the upcoming joint venture between Jeon Industries and a foreign company so that the legal documents can be prepared. 

The people are in especially high spirits today because Jeonghan has joined the team. A member of the legal team recently quit and Mr. Pi had Jeonghan take his place immediately, saying that he is the perfect fit. 

He controls the attention of the room as everyone gathers around him to hear about his adventures overseas with rapt fascination. You watch from your seat with amusement, occasionally taking sips of your coffee and listening to his story. 

You did not have a good sleep last night and the previous two nights, for obvious reasons. Meeting Wonwoo randomly on the street while returning home from having drinks to end the week was not on your bingo card. What bothers you is how much that small meeting has affected you. Why are you still sitting here, thinking about him? Was obsessing over him the entire weekend not enough?

Ugh.

You drag your palm across your face out of frustration when the door to the room opens and the chatter dies down, followed by respectful greetings. 

Chairman Jeon enters, followed by his secretary, nodding and murmuring a greeting. As you all take your seats— Jeonghan next to you, the door opens again and this time, Wonwoo saunters in. 

A sudden jolt of anxiety flashes from your head to toe as you feel your limbs grow heavy and unresponsive. Only your eyes move, following his every movement with trepidation. 

The chairman appears surprised upon his son’s arrival and you notice the apprehension in his gaze too. “I did not know you were coming.” He says curtly.

The atmosphere is charged, everyone in the room collectively holding their breath as if waiting for something to happen, except Jeonghan, of course, who looks between the father and son with inquisitiveness.

Wonwoo, after long moments of glaring at his father, casually pulls a chair and sits down on the other side of the table, a little to the right. “Go on, continue with your meeting. I’m here to merely observe.” He says, his eyes trained on you.

The chairman’s assistant starts the presentation but you fail to process much of what he is saying. All thanks to Wonwoo’s intense glare that is fixed on you, giving you goosebumps as little beads of perspiration form on your neck. Unable to resist yourself, you sneak glances at him and each time, it steals your breath away.

He does not blink. He does not move.

His eyes are filled with emotions, appearing sharper and deeper than usual which makes your breath stutter. You imagine this is how a wolf looks like to a deer about to become prey. You always thought Wonwoo resembles a wolf, in more ways than one.

Wait, what was this meeting about, again?

Fuck, you may pass out at this point.

Thankfully, Jeonghan breaks your train of thought by asking for your attention on a note he made on his laptop, pushing the screen of the device at such an angle that it interrupts your clear vision of Wonwoo. You gladly welcome the distraction, trying your very best to divert your attention to what your colleague is saying and pushing your chair back just a tad bit so that your peripheral view of Wonwoo is completely blocked.

The meeting ends sooner than expected, much to your relief.

While Chairman Jeon talks to Jeonghan, the other members clear out of the room, except Wonwoo, of course, who stands on the other side of the table, carefully looking at your direction. You try to ignore him to the best of your ability which is futile, honestly because there is no way your body can not feel his scalding gaze.

“It is a pleasure to have you with us.” The chairman says, shaking your colleague's hand. “I have heard great things about you from your boss.”

“Trust me, the honour is mine.” Jeoghan smiles, bright and friendly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. The morning light peers into the room from the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting beautifully on his blond hair and casting an almost angelic glow around him. 

“We also have you on our team,” The chairman nods in your direction and you stand up straighter and push your glasses over the bridge of your nose. “She is a very diligent employee of mine. With you two on board, I’m sure I won’t have much to worry about.”

“Rest assured, sir,” Jeonghan promises. 

As the chairman walks out of the room with his secretary on his tail, he stops on the way, saying something to Wonwoo that you cannot decipher. Like always, their conversation appears tense and judging from the expression on Wonwoo’s face you can tell it is nothing pleasant. Wonwoo dismissively walks past his father and towards where you and Jeonghan stand, earning a glare from the older man before he takes his leave.

As Wonwoo approaches nearer, you chew on your lower lip, rubbing your sweaty palms behind your back as you think of a way to excuse yourself.

Jeonghan initiates the conversation by extending his hand. “Mister Jeon Wonwoo, a pleasure to finally meet you. I am Yoon Jeonghan.”

Wonwoo looks at his hand and then his face before gazing at his hand again with a bored expression as he makes no move to remove his hand from his coat pocket. For one too many horrible seconds, you are terrified Wonwoo will not shake his hand as you watch with bated breath. Jeonghan keeps his arm extended, sporting a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but instead indicates a hint of challenge.

You feel like you are about to pass out when finally Wonwoo shakes his hand, making you heave a small sigh of relief.

“If you are facing any trouble or concerns, feel free to contact me anytime,” Jeonghan says, fishing out his card from his wallet and handing it to Wonwoo. He holds it between his index finger and thumb and observes it for a while before meeting your colleague’s gaze. “Hm, interesting. Are you implying something, Mr Yoon?”

Oh boy, you don’t like this tone.

Before Jeonghan can reply, you insert yourself between the two men and look at him, “Mr Yoon, we are getting late for office. Let’s go.” 

“You are too mean,” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through, his fox-like eyes trained on you with an intensity that makes every other thought in your brain slip away. “I understand that we agreed not to…see each other but you are straight up ignoring me. I am hurt.” His tone is light, almost playful, maybe even sarcastic, a complete juxtaposition to the fiery look in his eyes, his gaze ignited with accusation and some loathing.

You wrack your brain for an answer and end up futile, only getting lost in his hypnotic stare that somehow sucks you into a completely different dimension, transcending time and space where it is only you and him and the haunting memories.

A sudden, loud tune echoes through the room, jolting you back into your senses as you look behind to see Jeonghan fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to take this. You go on without me.” The man explains, walking a few feet away from you to attend the call. You take that chance, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you brush past Wonwoo, not even glancing at him and making a beeline down the hallway.

You make it to the elevator, securing yourself inside it and as the doors are about to close, a foot sticks through them, making you shriek and step back.

The doors reopen and Wonwoo casually walks in with his hands in his pockets. As he presses the button and the doors close, you move as far away from him as possible, gathering yourself to a corner and looking down, trying to make yourself as small and invisible as possible.

A pathetic attempt, honestly.

As the elevator slowly starts descending from the twentieth floor, Wonwoo's deep voice cuts through the silence. He utters your name softly, wreaking havoc both in your mind and your body as you feel your knees tremble. 

You are fucked.

Carefully, you look up to see Wonwoo standing in front of you, too close for your liking, his large build towering over your frame. He takes a step closer as you instinctively press yourself against the wall despite knowing there is no place left to go. His eyes, dark and breathtaking, pierce through you, appearing calm but turbulent at the same time.

You feel hot all over, your heart galloping stronger than a racehorse, your legs trembling, your fingertips itching to touch his face and trace the hard lines while also wanting to turn into the air and dissipate. “Wonwoo…” You whisper, a breath of a sound really, so quiet it is almost inaudible even to yourself.

The next moment, Wonwoo smashes his lips with yours. As if you calling his name was a trigger.

You are pressed flat against the elevator wall as Wonwoo’s entire body envelops yours in an addictive sense of comfort. Your tongue tangles with his, tasting the familiar and addictive taste of him after so long. His presence, his scent, his hold, his taste— everything is like a balm to your agonised soul as you feel yourself sinking deeper into his touch.

Until you remember everything that happened and the promise you made to yourself.

Until you realise…you are kissing him back.

Your hands suddenly move on their own accord and mustering all your strength, you push him hard on his chest, shoving him away from you as if you have been electrocuted. You pant, harsh, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, inhaling lungfuls of air and then, without thinking, you strike him across the face.

The slap rings through the silence which suddenly amplifies when you realise what just happened. Wonwoo slowly looks at you, his hand reaching up to touch his smarting cheek, an impassive look settling in his eyes. There is a hint of a smirk on his lips but it is unlike his usual one as he scoffs with a subtle tilt of his head. His eyes glimmer with betrayal but along with that, there is that unmissable spark of arrogance that matches the cocky twist of his lips— like he was amused by the kiss you two shared.

You almost want to smack him again but there is guilt blooming in your chest, freezing your hands.

You kissed him back, right? It was not entirely his fault.

Before you can say something— explain or apologize, the doors open and Wonwoo is gone like a swift spring breeze. 

You are still huddled in a corner, your hand over your heart, trying to calm the erratic beats as unshed tears blur your vision.

—

1 WEEK LATER

You take the private elevator down with Jeonghan after finishing the early morning meeting at Jeon Industries' head office. The contract has been successfully prepared and reviewed by the chairman so a huge burden is off your shoulders, yet you are more unnerved than ever.

You heard a rumour going around the members of the legal team this morning.

Apparently, Wonwoo has joined the company, not as the president or vice president but as a junior employee of the marketing team. Word on the street says that the Chairman has ordered him to work there for three months to prove himself before he gets a chance to take over the company.

It sounds like a bunch of nonsense to you. The Wonwoo you know would never do that. He hated the idea of working at his father's company. He always treated it as only his father’s, not something he could inherit or lead in the future. 

“Do you think the gossip is true?” You find yourself asking as you stand next to the elevator.

The blond haired man turns his head to look at you. “About the Chairman’s son working here?”

You nod your head, staring at the floor.

“Who knows,” he hums. “You are a lawyer. You should only believe in facts, you know.” He playfully shoves you with his shoulder making you smile softly.

Right.

The doors open and you walk out along with Jeonghan into the lobby. It is a little past nine and the floor is still crowded with people clocking in for work. As you navigate your way through the crowd, you are forced to stop in your tracks when you see someone approaching from the other side.

It is none other than Wonwoo. 

He is dressed formally; in a baby blue shirt covered by a navy blue suit and pants, paired with a steel framed glasses that do nothing to diffuse the sharpness of his gaze. With his hair slightly shorter than before and falling over his forehead like a curtain, he appears more boyish and approachable, a stark contrast to the image of him you are used to.

And as you dreaded, he does not miss you amidst the crowd, his eyes locking with yours as you inhale sharply.

With a sickly sweet smile, he walks closer to where you stand and you instinctively try to hide yourself behind Jeonghan in a stupid attempt to avoid him.

“The gossip turned out to be true, huh?” Jeonghan begins the conversation as Wonwoo stands in front of the two of you.

Avoiding eye contact with Wonwoo, you observe his outfit, noticing the messenger bag slinging from his shoulder and the cardboard carrier holding four coffees in the other. 

He is really playing his part, huh.

Wonwoo chuckles. “It seems so, Mr. Yoon.” Then, he tilts his head to look at you, “Guess we will be bumping into each other every now and then, Miss Lawful.”

Miss Lawful?

You look away, the vivid memories of the kiss you shared last week suddenly flooding your mind. 

Sensing the tension, Jeonghan attempts to diffuse it and looking at you, he says. “Let’s get going, shall we? We have a meeting.”

“Hold it, blondie, I am not done talking to her.” Wonwoo snaps.

What?

A shiver runs down your spine as you gape at him, your jaw slack at his brazen attitude. It is like a glimpse into the old Wonwoo masked beneath this new attire. 

He did not just call Jeonghan that.

You know your colleague and you are well aware that he isn’t someone to back down or take insults lightly, which means this could very well turn into a fight right here. So, with all your might, you grip his arm and look into his eyes, hoping he sees the helplessness in yours. “Mr. Yoon, could you please wait outside for me? Please.”

The man clearly wants to say more but instead, he just nods and pats your arm. Looking at Wonwoo, who is glaring at him, he flashes a charming smile which is undoubtedly fake before walking away.

A small sigh falls from your lips.

“What is wrong with you? What are you doing here like this? What do you want?” You hiss under your breath, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible.

Wonwoo smirks. “So many questions you have. I am afraid I won’t answer them.”

You grit your teeth. “That is fine. As long as you mind your own business, we are fine, Wonwoo. Besides, you never wanted to work here. I doubt you’ll be here for long.”

Wonwoo grins. “That is where you are wrong. People change, you know.”

“Right.”

“Like you did.” Wonwoo continues, leaning slightly closer to you. “Do you enjoy fucking him? Do you imagine me when you are with him?”

Absolutely stunned and slack-jawed, you blink at him, almost not believing he just said that. 

You are hurt and angry at the same time. Conflicted about what to do with the emotions rushing through you, you look up at the high ceilings and take a deep breath, tightly gripping the handle of your bag as you try to summon some strength. “Mr. Jeon Wonwoo,” you start, “We are in a professional setting. Do not cross your lines.”

The man scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

You bite your lip, hoping the pain will be a strong enough distraction. “I was going to apologize for slapping you the other day but if you keep behaving like this—”

“What will you do?” He sneers, cutting you off. “Sue me? I don’t need your apologies, ___.”

Your name on his tongue is like a forbidden word, sending shivers down your spine. It is unfair how good, how sinful it sounds and you hate how it stops your entire world, forcing you to focus only on him.

When was the last time he called you by your name?

Enough!

You sigh. “For the sake of old times, Wonwoo. Please, just stop. Let me move on.”

“Never.” It is a promise. You see it in his eyes, the way they burn, leaving a mark deep in your soul, branding you for life. “I will never let you go. Remember that.”

He walks past you, his shoulders brushing with yours.

You are ruined. 

series masterlist

A/N: so that was chapter 2! we now have jeonghan to make things interesting 👀 I'd love to hear your thoughts on toxic ex wonwoo and flirty colleague jeonghan! my asks are always open so drop by! i haven't started working on chapter 3 but hopefully it will be out within the first week of december. as always, like, reblog and leave a comment. toodles! <3 (it's my bday but this is my gift to y'all, i really hope you enjoyed tehee)

[hsr-writing]

kinktober - day fifteen - overstim

blade x reader, nsfw, minors dni. afab reader. crying, aftercare, mild biting.

It's all you can do to cling to the sheets as Blade fucks into you from behind, his strong hands on your hips as he holds you up. You've long gone weak under him, your thighs giving out around the third orgasm. Now you're a crying, whimpering mess as he pants against your back.

His forehead is pressed between your shoulders as he ruts into you, each thrust rough and deep as he chases his first orgasm of the night. It's the kind of night where he's quiet, hyperfocused on your whines and moans of his name.

He groans and shifts over you so he can bite down on the back of your neck, making you whimper as he pounds into you. The pain makes you shudder, eyes rolling as your pussy squeezes tight around him.

He snaps his hips sharply into you, burying his cock deep as he comes. He holds there for a few moments, then slowly lets go of your neck, moving to sigh your name against your ear as you feel his cock beginning to soften inside you.

He lingers for a few moments, his head tucked against your neck as he just breathes in your scent. Eventually he rolls off of you, pulling you with him until you're on your side. He curls around you and you hum a little, pleasantly surprised. He's not usually in the mood for cuddling, so you savor every moment.

Blade traces over your skin, patterns that aren't really there, scars he's never let you get, ones that exist on his skin instead. You've never understood what made you go from coworker to lover in his eyes, what clicked in his brain to make sure you're never hit in combat, but you appreciate it. Love it.

You love him.

You're so relaxed in his arms that you almost don't notice when his hand slips down from your hip, smoothing down your stomach to find your clit. The sudden pleasure makes you jolt and gasp, arching back against him as he presses a kiss that's more teeth than anything just below your ear.

The way he touches you is lazy, but fuck if he doesn't know exactly how to touch you, how to make you squirm and sigh soft moans. His teeth scrape down your throat just as he starts circling your clit quickly.

"Ah! Blade," you whine as you grab his arm, trying to feel steady. You're more sensitive than you thought you'd be considering the break, a squirming mess against Blade's chest as he bites your neck, worrying a mark there.

You sob as you come again, your cunt weakly clenching around his soft cock. Blade doesn't stop, ignoring how you writhe and whimper, abusing your puffy, swollen clit.

"Good," Blade murmurs against your jaw, his voice raspy as he praises you. It means the world when he makes the effort on quiet days.

"Ngh! Blade, I can't- I can't-" you whimper, struggling to get the words out as your hips buck and squirm. You can feel his smirk against your skin as he picks up the pace.

"You will."

A fresh wave of tears roll down your cheeks as you squeal as you come for a fifth time, the pleasure painful and aching. You grasp onto the sheets like they're a life line, like they can keep you sane somehow.

"One more," Blade promises, his fingers mercifully slowing down on your clit. He goes from circling it to making a lazy petting motion, letting you shudder and twitch as you struggle to come down from the high.

He doesn't give you long before he speeds up again, his pace suddenly fast and hard, merciless as you wordlessly sob and thrash in his arms. You're so sensitive it takes almost no time for you to come again, the orgasm like agony.

Your vision goes black as you spasm, coming weakly and painfully.

Blade's hand has moved from touching you to gently rubbing your stomach when you come back to yourself. He gives a gentle hum as your body goes completely lax, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

Your head hurts from all the crying, as you wince as you push yourself up to turn and face him. The movement makes his cock finally slip out of you, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Before you settle down again, he reaches over you to the nightstand, and hands you a water bottle. You try not to cry again, accepting it gratefully, desperately thankful for his awareness.

Aftercare can be a hit or miss depending on how bad the day was, on how much the mara plagues him, so you always appreciate when he makes the effort on hard days.

He watches as you drink the water, then pulls you close when you're done. You sigh into his chest, melting into his arms and closing your eyes. It's so easy to drift off, to fee safe and protected.

You think you feel Blade kiss your head as you slip into deep sleep, and your heart melts.

[everythingseasoning]

JJK SMUT

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Further reading means you consent to reading nsfw

🎆　Choso touching himself for the first time while thinking of you

tw: Smut. Parallels to religious trauma & sex (but it’ll clear up in part 2 dw)

　　　　　　　　 　˚✧₊⁎⁺˳*✧༚

With two fingers, Choso touches the tip of his leaking cockhead. Precum has already dribbled down from his flushed red tip down his shaft. Choso looks down at his legs, his hard on sticking out almost painfully. With trembling hands Choso applies even more pressure to his tip— body jerking when he does so, groaning suddenly. “Ga-ah! Ah— hah—,” Choso breathes heavily, shuddering slightly as his abs stay tense. Such a small touch, and yet, it felt otherworldly.

Just what is happening?

Choso swallows thickly, unsure of what to make of this— this situation. It just felt so good when he touched it, his penis, and yet he was utterly confused about what any of this even meant. Did erections normally feel like this? Why did his penis suddenly become hard? —He’d never been hard before in his life, that is, until he met you. One fated encounter, a new friend, and a month later, and then he’d been experiencing this weird phenomena several times week, often at night— and always— when he was thinking about you.

Still, he’d never touched himself. Not yet. Not until now, his thumb and point finger pressing delicately on his cock.

God he wanted it bad. For so long now, this strange feeling and bodily reaction would occur at the most random of times, and all Choso could think about was the urge to touch it, touch himself. But he never gave in. It felt weird. It felt wrong. Using the organ one used to procreate with another? That had to be a ceremonious thing, and god forbid Choso disobey such high tradition. What sort of brother would he be, setting a bad example like that? Cursing the family name, that’s what he’d be doing.

His cock throbs, aching with need, and tears sprout in Choso’s eyes. He has to tear his hand away from his cock— right now— “Come on!”— but he can’t. By some internal force, his hand stays perched on his cock, and Choso curses. Why was his body doing this? Making his penis swollen with need. Was this some sort of test?

“Fuck, fuck,” Choso says as his hand moves down his tip to his shaft in a quick, automatic stroke. “Aw, oh, fuck—” Choso’s hand rapidly picking up speed as he fists himself, a warm flush coursing through his veins, and he’s experiencing pure bliss. Huh? What was going on? For the first time, Choso Kamo was feeling sexual pleasure. It’s so good! It’s so good— It’s so good! Choso thinks, euphoria jacking through him.

Stop, stop it! Your brothers! What sort of model are you? But even Choso’s brotherly determination, as big as mountains, isn’t enough to stop him from succumbing to the sensations he has now, from stroking his cock. Up and down his hand goes, and an image of you flashes through his mind.

“This is so wrong,” Choso thinks, and yet, the image of you is still there. And now he’s imagining it, it’s your hand on his cock— it’s you who is sinning with him, together.

Choso keeps pleasuring himself, all his past sexual suffering collapsing in on itself in this very moment. “Ahhhgggh,” Choso lets out a deep moan, hand moving feverishly over his cock— half-aware that he’s strayed from his celibacy— and half-gone, lost in the addictive high. Choso just wants you there, just you, just you, just you and him and his swollen cock—

“G-god, hah-” In the back of his mind, Choso hears a voice. You’re wrong for this. His body fights against his mind— because if this is so wrong, then pray tell, why does it feel so right?

And now you’re on top of him, sinking onto his cock. And he’s thrusting up into you— thrusting and watching your mouth fall open as you gaze back at him in shock and pleasure. This is heaven Choso thinks, eyes shut as he moans out your name.

It’s imaginary, but Choso wants to do something with you— something he can’t yet define— he just knows he needs to stay inside you and keep going.

Stop it! the voice is his head says, but to no avail, for a strange buzz has begun in Choso’s cock, ringing faintly throughout his lower body, pleasure coursing up to every muscle and fiber in his entire being. And there is a sort of tingling. Choso chases it.

A cresting wave, a swelling sensation is building— Choso rubs his cock even faster, head thrown back and mouth open— something is building—

And he’s flipped you over on the bed now— why the bed? He doesn’t know, it just feels right— And Choso is on top of you as he looks down at your cute face, thrusting with strong and deep strokes into your body. He watches his cock come out of your pussy, shining with your slick, and that’s when he loses it—

His balls tighten, and Choso cums in his hand. Choso’s body jerks and jerks as he moans, white ropes spurting out from his dick as he presses himself as deeply as he can into you. In his mind, you’re laying there, smothered underneath his body, his balls pressing flush against your clit as he continues to rut into you, shoving his cum inside you as his cock softens.

“Aghhhhggg—” Choso groans. He sighs, eyes rolled into the back of his head as the high dwindles into a most comfortable bliss. That was unreal— Choso’s mind is a blank slate and he breathes deeply, huffing and bathing in a luxurious afterglow. What the hell, that was amazing. That was—

Choso’s eyes flutter open and he sees white liquid goop staining his hands and sheets under him.

“Wh-what?” Choso says aloud, confusion and disbelief beginning to settle in.

His phone lights up with a dinging noise, and out of the corner of his eye he sees it— your name on the screen. Dread fills his body.

Choso feels so dirty. Shame prickles on his skin and oozes from deep within his soul as Choso picks up his phone.

—He’s just thought about the one person who isn’t blood that he feels affection for— in a dirty way.

How can he seek retribution? Who should he ask, to get answers for his sins?

His phone chimes again, your name flashing again. Choso feels so guilty, and in that moment he makes his decision: he will tell you everything that has just happened, ask for your forgiveness, and figure out how he can atone for his dirty fantasy about you, and for the way he stroked himself until he peaked into cumming.

/࿌

Part one end hehe

Comment to join my tag list for part 2! Reblogging & Commenting with feedback is highly appreciated & keeps me going

➜ JJK masterlist

m’s taglist: @sysysysysysysysysysysysysysy @doodlies

[bangtanficsforyou]

Fine Line (02)- Patreon Exclusive

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Au: Enemies to lovers.

Word count: 4.5K

Genre: angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You hate Jungkook. Jungkook hates you. It's simple. Until it isn't.

Read part one here.

A/N: This is my first patreon exclusive and I'm really excited about it. Can't express my gratitude for the support that I have received on my Patreon. This is probably just a means to express that 💓. To whoever is reading this, I love you 💗.

ah, well, Y/N is a literal child and there's some kissing stuff going on but we don't know who's that between so shhhhh 🤫

Things between you and Jungkook are not the same anymore.

Well, you have been pretty normal. It’s Jungkook who has not been his usual self with you.  No matter how hard you have been trying to ignite the flame of bickering filled with animosity—you have been purposely avoiding the word hate—nothing has been working!

Take today for example, the four of you—you, Jisoo, Taehyung and Jungkook­­­­­­­—had gone shopping and you had sarcastically passed a comment when you saw Jungkook showing interest in a plain black t-shirt.

“Well, you know how they say black is the color of the devil,” a smirk adorns your lips as you sweetly speak the words. “I think this shirt would really suit you.”

Jungkook to your surprise, had not retorted with a sarcastic comment of his own. Instead, he had nodded with a serious look in his eyes.

“I think you’re right. I’ll get this. Thanks Y/N.”

THE AUDACITY!!!!! The audacity of this man to fucking say thank you!!!! Not to mention the fact that he actually went ahead and purchased that very same t-shirt. And never ever to mention the fact that for a brief moment you had agreed that he would look good in it, cause why mention things that never happened? Hehe.

What’s important is, you’re not one to give up.

One fine day, Jungkook just decides to question the animosity between the both of you as if he wasn’t just as much of a participant in it. And now, he is trying to prove his point and making it look like it was all you all along. Huh! As if you would let him succeed. You will prove it, that the animosity has always been mutual and that it shall remain so.

You’re a girl on a mission, who will never admit defeat.

Continue Reading

[writingwhileblvck]

Can you do one where Bakugou gets from work horny and he walks in on you fingering yourself?

Absolutely! I changed it up just a tiny bit, but nothing crazy, so I hope you enjoy!

Stress Reliever

Paring: Bakugou x Fem Reader

Both you and Katsuki knew, in being hero's you would both have to find time for each other. However, when you have shifts that contradict each other, that becomes a lot easier said than done. Especially lately, since there has seem to be a surge of new villains that was currently infesting the city. It was nothing that too difficult to handle but with Katsuki on night patrol, the extra work was keeping him away from you for longer than either of you would like.

Tonight you figured you get some work done instead of lounging around the house, but you were really missing your man. Every inch of your body was craving his touch. His hands on your things, his lips on your neck, just the thought made you dizzy. But you put it out of your mind so you could work. Or... At least you TRIED. You really did try to get your mind off of it, because you had so much paperwork to finish. But as you sat at your desk, the throb between your legs was becoming unbearable.

Ah. What the hell?

An aggravated sigh of defeat fell from your mouth as you leaned back in your chair. Katsuki was plaguing your mind, and in that moment all you wanted was his lips wrapped around your sensitive little clit. But in his absence you were the next best option.

Thank god you were home. You thought as you propped yourself on top of your desk. With your boyfriend's shirt already discarded on the floor, you laid back and ran your hands down your body, legs spreading instinctually as you slowly removed your soaked panties. Your fingers explored your wet folds, rubbing small circles on your clit and letting your mind wonder.

You imagine Katsuki sitting in your desk chair and eating you like a man starved. Sucking , slurping, and moaning into your hot cunt. Your rubbed faster, harder. You could practically feel his lips wrapped around your hardened nipples, as his fingers easily reached and abused that sweet spot.

You groaned in frustration, cause no matter how hard you tried, your finger would never be enough. So instead your reached into your desk drawer and pulled out your pink dildo. Using the big suction cup on the end, you attached it to the surface of the desk. You were already dripping, so you didn't even bother with the lube and just lowered yourself down.

You didn't give to fucks about the papers below you as you rode your pretty toy. They were already cover in the sticky juices and beyond saving. All you were worried about was cumming, and you bounced up and down like your life depended on it.

"Fuck Katsuki...."

The little toy didn't compare to his coke can of a dick and you knew it, but you were desperate. You reached back into the drawer and pulled out your rose shaped vibrator. Putting it on his highest setting you went to town on your poor clit.

And there you were, completely bare naked on top of your desk, fucking the shit out of yourself. You were so gone you didn't hear the front door open...

Katsuki dragged himself through the front door of your shared home absolutely exhausted. This overtime was killing him. Having to do these drive by meeting with you was killing him too. Not being able to hold you like he wants, kiss you like he wants, fuck you like he wants... Even now, all he wanted was his girlfriend's sweet thighs wrapped around his face-

He pause though when he heard a weird sound coming from down the hall. It was late so he just assumed you'd already gone to bed. But oh was he surprised when he found you in your office desperately fucking yourself.

He watched you from the crack in the door, not daring to interrupt this beautiful sight. The moans that fell from your mouth were sinful, and each cry of his name went straight to his dick.

Katsuki palmed himself through his uniform as he watched your ass bounce on that pathetic dildo. Smiling to himself because he knows that he'll have you squirting within minutes when he gets his hands on you.

Eventually, Katsuki abandons just palming himself for just straight up stroking his hard cock. He paces himself with you as your moans get louder and louder. He can hear the squelching of your juicy pussy from where he was, the sound alone almost made him bust. But he was able to hold it together a bit longer until he heard you scream his name and squirt all over your desk.

He tried his best to stay quite has his thick, hot ropes of cum decorate your office door, but he knew he failed when he saw you shoot up and look straight at the door. Pushing the door open, he revealed himself in all his glory.

To say your were embarrassed would be the understatement of the century, as you tried to scramble from on top of the desk. Katsuki's voice is what made you freeze though.

"Might as well stay right there babygirl. It's daddy's turn to fuck you stupid." He was looking at you at a hunter about to capture its prey, and you could feel yourself getting worked up again.

So you did as he said, and arched that pretty ass up high for him. Because who were you to deny daddy what he wanted?

[tange-my-rine]

guard dog || Tangerine × gn!reader

Summary: Lemon has been trying to get you to see it for years. His brother was into you, so much it physically hurt to watch. That's what he said anyway. You were skeptical, to say the least. The fact that everyone who had ever hurt you, or even just threatened to, was dead though, was indisputable.

TW: protective!Tangerine, jealous!Tangerine, violence, murder, cursing (it's Tangerine), all things bullet train.

[[A/N: y'all know I love a good pining story 🫣🫣🫣, enjoy :) ]]

You'd known the twins for about as long as you've been in the business. Your handler was the same, and for a mission, they just decided to pair the three of you up. It was some simple grab-and-go, you can hardly remember now actually, but the three of you mended so well that your place was practically cemented.

Don't get you wrong, Tangerine has resisted, hard, since the beginning but you could see the progress. Or well, you hoped it was progress.

Lemon seemed to think so, and that was good enough for you. Who knew him better than Lemon, after all?

That brings you to now, where you sat in a fancy sort of gala -dressed to the nines; there was a man, some wealthy guy, that was the hit. Tangerine had gone to roam the crowds to, well, find him. Lemon sat inconspicuously to your right in a suit, a nice gray number, with a drink in his hand, looked a little like champagne but you couldn't be certain.

"You think he's lost?" You questioned, smiling over your cup -eyes directed to the crowd in a sweeping motion. You lagged on every good blue suit in the mix, perhaps for someone in particular, but you'd never say that out loud.

"'Wouldn't admit it if he was," Lemon retorted with a chuckle.

"I could get lost in here," you remarked, tapping your fingers along the tablecloth, gaze slipping across the ceiling -it was all shiny with chandeliers and painted columns, "-I bet there's at least 16 rooms on this floor."

Lemon pursed his lips, "He's only supposed to be in one, though, ain't he? Minglin' and such."

"He could've slipped away," you hummed, messing with your sleeve.

"Guess so," Lemon echoed, eyes glazed over the bustle of the people.

You paused for a moment, before saying, "Why did we send him again? He's really not the sociable type to get the guy's guard down, yeah?"

"Easy," Lemon smiled, something twinkling in his eyes, "-he wouldn't let me go because of competitive reasons and he wouldn't let you go because he'd sooner fuckin' die than leave you alone."

"Lemon," you lowered your voice, "-I'm an assassin, I'm sure I could've found this guy myself. I'm not a baby."

"Not sayin' you are love," he spoke matter-of-factly, "-It's nothin' about your skill, it's all him."

You quirked your brow, taking a long sip, "All him?"

"Have you really not noticed?" Lemon questioned, now fully facing you, "-He's like your fuckin' guard dog."

Ah, this again.

"Lemon, we've talked about this-"

"Doesn't mean it ain't true," he tsked, "-I can read people you know that, especially my brother."

You did know that, but your brain just really couldn't wrap around the idea of Tangerine seeing you that way. Not that it wasn't desirable, god was it desirable- it just didn't make any sense. He didn't treat you any differently than his brother, except for small things. Like holding open the door, pulling out your chair, and listening to you talk thoughtfully (unlike with his brother who he'd directly told to 'shut the fuck up').

He was just polite.

And it's not like you didn't think him to be handsome. He was probably one of the most well-crafted people on the planet, all pressed suits and slick hair and blue eyes and strong arms-

"Think back for me," Lemon interrupted your train of thought, thankfully, "-last mission, how many people got their hands on you?"

A grab-and-go, some sort of drive, you think.

"Like how many I fought? I mostly knocked them out, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Lemon agreed, "-but, somehow, they all ended up dead. Not your doin', not my doin'."

"Well," you scoffed, "-you can't leave witnesses-"

"Mission before that," he continued, relentless, "-quick in and out, nobody but the target to die, yeah? But some bloke held your arm too tight, remember?"

He'd wanted to buy you a drink, and you said no. He insisted. By the time you'd gotten him off, Tangerine had neatly sauntered to your side. You'd always thought it was weird timing, actually.

"Yeah," you hummed, furrowing your brow, "-okay. He didn't die though."

"Yeah, he did, back alley when you were in the car," Lemon replied, taking a long sip of his drink -finishing it actually.

"What?!" You hissed, "-There was no need-"

"You're barkin' up the wrong tree, love-" he held up his hands in surrender, "-I had nothin' to do with it. Except well, baggin' 'im up, Tan wanted to meet you in the car. He's always givin' me the dirty work."

Before you could respond, and you very much wanted to, Tangerine leisurely waltzed up to the table. Slow and steady steps didn't draw attention. Although you're not sure that mattered because well, everyone is going to look at him -I mean, come on-

"Disappeared in a room with a woman," he spoke quickly, exhaling a big breath, and snatching your drink from your fingertips -promptly downing it.

"Hey-" you began but didn't get far.

"I'll buy ya another one, love," he spoke, sly and smooth -sitting down to your left, exasperated, "-Fuckin' needed it. All the guy droned about was kissing arse and fuckin' stocks."

"You spoke to him?" You tilted your head, curious -promptly ignoring the fluttering when he called you love.

"No," he nearly spit out, "-just heard 'im. Real fuckin' piece of work, I tell ya."

Lemon hummed, "Good thing we're 'ere to kill 'im then, yeah?"

"Yeah," Tangerine agreed before eyes flickering over the two of you, "-What have you been doin' then?"

"What do you think?" You laughed, "-Not much else we can do but sit."

"They haven't been flirtin'," Lemon smiled, teasing, "-if that's what you're askin'."

"Fuck you," Tangerine retorted, "-just thought I'd ask somethin' nice for once and you twist it, see? Can't be nice to you."

"Enough, you two," you exhaled, swatting at both of them -your hand brushed Tan's but you didn't focus on it for long, "-Guy's back out."

The man was tall, greying slightly by the ears and big full dark beard -seemed the type to be a beneficiary or whatever it was. His suit was one you recognized to be expensive, probably because of Tan now that you think about it, and he was swarmed by quite a few men -itching for conversation, advice, you assumed.

And then, his eyes, deep brown ones, slinked over the table, landing solely on you.

You smiled -the kind that made all the men happy, waving gently. Standing up, you patted the table and whispered to your partners.

"Looks like he has a weak spot," you spoke through your teeth, "-be back in ten. Don't bite each other's heads off, please!"

You were a people's person, and men were simple, it wouldn't be hard to get him into a private space and-

You were halted, something pulling on your wrist. Less pulling and more held in place, actually. Spinning on your toes, your eyes held on Tangerine's fingers pressed into your wrist -keeping you at the table.

"Tan!" you hissed out, trying to pull your hand away -it wasn't a hard grip, just enough to keep you unmoving, "-What the hell?"

He seemed to scramble for a second, eyes fluttering across your face, "You can't just go without a plan, you know 'at, right?"

"Tan," you seethed, voice low to keep unwanted ears out, "-the plan is simple, get him alone and kill him. Now, why don't you let me-"

"No," he reiterated, "-you can't just go on your own. He's got men by his side, 24/7, what are you supposed to do if-"

"Lemon," you hissed, trying to get him on your side.

"No," he spoke, passively, standing up, "-I'm not involved in this, you two sort it out. I'll take care of 'im, yeah?"

"Seriously?" You turned to him, merely watching as he disappeared into the crowd -there goes your backup.

You turned to him, something heavy in your eyes -disbelief, "Do you really think I can't do it, Tan?"

"Love," Tangerine began, standing up beside you -it was almost like you were holding hands, "-I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, right," you scoffed, shaking off his hand, "-I need some air."

That is what led you to push through the glass doors and back onto the patio, rain trickling down from the sky. You stayed under the ledge for a moment, before decidedly stepping into it; it brought you back to earth for a moment, anger and frustration slowly numbing to the patter against your skin.

You'd always liked the rain.

"Come out of the rain, love," he spoke, careful and quiet -gentle in a way you'd only seen once ever, "-you're gonna get a cold."

You ignored him, raindrops dusting off your eyelashes and making your clothes stick to your skin ever-so-slightly. It wasn't enough to give you a cold, you knew that.

"Please."

Now, that was new.

You turned to face him, eyes adjusting to the shadow of the ledge. He looked at you softly, like you held the entire world in your hands and he didn't want you to drop it; blue eyes dusting over your face for any signs of anything you assumed. Something in you faltered.

Wordlessly, you stepped back under the ledge.

As soon as you did, he shrugged off his coat jacket and put it on your shoulders -almost out of habit. Another thing to add to your list.

He spoke first, leaning against the wall right beside you, "I'm a fuckin' dick, aren't I?"

You laughed, just a little -looking at the ground, "Yeah, you are."

"Look, love," he started, slow -his hand brushed up against yours on the wall, "-I wasn't tryin' to say anythin' about you. I kno' you could kill 'im without even thinkin' about it. You're incredible-"

Something in you twinkled, cheeks dusting a pink -not that you'd let him see.

"I just-" he started, running his hands through his hair -you watched the motion with lazy eyes, curious, "-I'm fuckin' daft."

"You are," you answered with a lilt of a tease, before turning to him, seriously, "-but why did you freak out like that? I really just thought you didn't trust me-"

He spun to you then, catching your eyes with his -a breath shattered out of your lungs, his hands firmly on your arms to keep you in place, "I trust you with my life. I do."

You hummed, looking at him critically, "Then what, Tan? If you trust me and know I'm good, then what's the problem?"

"It's not-" he sighed, eyes leaving yours as he rubbed a hand down his face -turning away slightly, with one hand still just below your shoulder, "-Fuck, I never wanted to-"

"Tan," you echoed out, gently placing your fingers against his jaw -turning him to meet your eyes, "-you can tell me anything, you know that."

You were so close now, a breath away from him -blue eyes flicking across your features, a bit frantic. You could feel his breath fan across your face, as your hands fell back to your side. You didn't dare blink. It almost felt like-

Could Lemon be...?

Your brain was working against you, as you blurted out, "Are you my guard dog?"

Tangerine paused, eyebrows furrowing, all tension now dissipated, "What?"

"Shit, I didn't-" you stepped back, but his hand on your arm didn't let you roam far, "-Lemon keeps telling me you're like my guard dog. All protective and like constantly keeping your eye out, not letting me go anywhere without you-"

"Your guard dog?"

"Yeah, it's stupid, but-" you paused, looking back at him, curious, "-did you really kill that guy in Madrid?"

"The hit?" He questioned, something in him relaxing, "-no Lemon did, you don't remember? The fucker stabbed me in the leg-"

And then, he fell silent -something passing over his face in recognition.

"In my defense, you weren't supposed to know about 'at."

"Well, I do," you exhaled, expectedly, "-may I ask why?"

"Why what?" He asked, somewhat innocently.

"Tan," you stressed.

"Same reason I didn't let ya leave," he exhaled, simply, like you knew the reason. You thought you might, but you weren't taking any chances.

"Tan, how am I supposed to-"

"He could've said bodyguard," he spoke, suddenly, working himself up, "-Just had to compare me to a fuckin' animal, didn't he? He's lucky I-"

"Tangerine."

"Right, yeah," he interrupted his thought process, eyes swimming to yours, "-I can... I can explain."

You met his eyes, "Please do."

He paused for a moment, seeming to settle on what to say, "I am... I am your fuckin'... guard dog, as my brother so eloquently put it."

You opened your mouth to comment.

"Hear me out, will ya?" He spoke, softly, fingers brushing circles against your arm -you merely nodded, "-I'm protective over ya, beyond belief really, not sure how ya didn't figure that one out."

Your hands went to the edge of his coat, tightening it on your shoulders. It was a little chilly now actually.

"Not because you can't protect yourself," he clarified before his eyes settled on your face -gentle and soft, almost... admiring, "-but because I don't kno' what I'd do if I lost you."

"Is it not the same with Lemon?" You questioned, your breath hollow in your chest.

"It's-" he cleared his throat, almost awkward, "-very different."

"Different how?"

"Love," he sighed, a little exhausted, "-I..."

"Just be honest with me, Tan," you echoed, a mere whisper, "-that's all I want."

And then his eyes darted over your face, swimming like he was committing every bit to memory... like he could never get enough. Suddenly, something settled over you, watching as the words stopped on his tongue but his face said it all.

He didn't have to say it, you realized -watching him, you knew.

With a breath, you pushed forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your head into his shoulder. His whole body tensed for a moment like he hadn't expected it, before relaxing -hands coming to twist along your waist.

"You don't have to say it," you muttered into his shirt, all crisp and clean, "-I know."

He spoke quietly, you could feel the breath on your skin, "You know?"

"I know," you repeated.

"'At mean I can take ya to dinner?" He questioned, playful but you could hear the nerves -you knew him well.

You pulled back, fingertips twisting in the curls on the back of his neck -smiling brightly, "I'd love to."

He grinned, and it crinkled at his eyes -now looking at you a bit like he can't believe it, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled back.

"You had your fill, you two?" Lemon interrupted, suddenly making himself known, "-Figured out all your shit, then?"

Tangerine's face dropped turning his head but making no move to let you go -it made your head fuzzy, "Don't fuckin' start."

"I won't," he held up his hands, before grinning -mischievously, "-I will say though, you can thank me anytime. Ya know, since I played fuckin' cupid."

"One more word," Tangerine leveled, eyes glaring daggers, "-I'm fuckin' serious, mate-"

"Thank you, Lemon," you interrupted, turning out of his grip -one hand still on your waist, you doubted he'd let you fully out of his grip, not now. You didn't mind.

"See?" Lemon asked, "-'At so hard, brother? Always liked 'em better, really."

Tangerine paused, jaw tensing as he licked along his teeth, reluctant but his eyes kept darting to you -he softened, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Lemon grinned for a second before he fell rather serious, "-really though, we should leave. 'Give 'em another fifteen minutes to find 'im."

Tangerine pressed his lips together, not moving.

"Seriously," Lemon echoed, "-I know ya expect me to be jokin' but I'm not, I give 'em fifteen minutes."

"Tan," you pushed, eyes meeting his, "-later. We have forever, don't we?"

Something in him softened, eyes dashing across your face, he bit down a smile. Wouldn't dare let Lemon catch him, you assumed.

He seemed to anyway.

"Oh, you are whipped, bro," Lemon retorted with a laugh.

"Don't," Tangerine seethed, "-I'll pound your fuckin' face in, you know 'at? Not another word."

You rolled your eyes, slipping your hand into his. This was your life now, huh?

You flickered over Tangerine practically tackling his brother to the ground, verbally, but his hand still gently wrapped around yours -unaffected.

Maybe that's okay.

[urcatslitterbox]

Having thigh job brain rot

Ok so like I have some thicker thighs and I can’t stop thinking about these guys having their first thigh job.

Bucky

Bucky has always been obsessed with your thighs. He just loves how soft and squishy they are and thinks they’re perfect.

He especially loves biting them and leaving wet opened mouth kisses on them when eating you out.

So when you blurted out in the midst of a hot and heavy make out session that you wanted him to fuck them, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Spreading some lube on his length and your thighs, he held them together against his front as you laid on the bed

The moment his leaky tip slid through the plush flesh of your thighs his head fell back as he let out a strangled groan.

Yep, definitely in heaven.

“Fuck doll, look at how much prettier your thighs look with my cock between em”

He couldn’t get enough, slowly sliding his cock between your thighs. Hitting your clit with every stroke.

He fucked them nice and slow, wanting to savour the feeling of your soft, warm skin against his wet cock.

“Such perfect fucking thighs baby. All mine.”

Eventually though, it became too much for him.

He started to fuck your thighs with a newfound desire. The only thing on his mind was the thought of covering you in his cum.

His thoughts driving him to fuck your thighs so hard that the bed frame was repeatedly hitting the wall.

He could feel himself getting closer, his previously steady pace faltering.

“Mm fuck gonna cum doll, you want me to cum all over you huh? Gonna c- fuck, cover you in my cum, make such a mess, ah shit!”

Bucky came all over your bare stomach and chest panting as he came down. He let your legs fall on either side of him.

“Look at the mess you made me make doll.”

Steve

Oh sweet Stevie. He isn’t the most experienced man out there, so when you brought up wanting to try giving him a thigh job, he was confused as to how exactly it would work.

After explaining it to him he agreed with a deep red coating his face and neck.

“Oh well I suppose we could give it a try sweetheart.”

The moment he had finished his sentence you were on him.

Pulling his pants down along with yours before kneeling in front of him.

“W-wait, but I thought we were-“

“Gotta get you wet first so you can fuck my thighs Stevie.”

You cut him off, then at his understanding nod you took his heavy cock into your mouth moaning at his taste.

Steve sighed at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. He’d never had a blowjob before you, but he was sure that you were an expert with the way you worked his cock in your mouth.

After getting him nice and wet, you pulled him onto his bed and helped him to position himself so he could properly fuck your thighs.

Steve inhaled sharply as he slid between your thighs.

It felt so much better than he imagined. You never fail to make him feel new kinds of pleasure he never thought possible.

He began to slowly thrust, but that changed quickly as it just felt too goddamn good.

“Oh god, feels s’good sweets.”

His hips started to stutter as he neared his end much too quickly.

“Fuck! M’not gonna last, wanna cum already baby, just feels too good.”

He pulled back just in time to cum all over your thighs making a mess as he moaned loudly.

“S-steve what are you doing?”

He laid down on his front pulling you closer before licking his spend off your thighs, inching his way closer to your soaked core.

“Cleaning up my girl. I made a mess on her, and looks like she made one too.”

He teased before delving into your wet folds.

Omg I need them to fuck my thighs ARGH

[shotmrmiller]

https://x.com/babyboat22/status/1819915483795050893?s=46 dont look at me sideways but i see amateur thief reader and “victim” soap who let you rob his ass just to keep your hands on him. he couldnt stop humming and chuckling and grinning while you pinned him to the grimy brick alley wall, patting him down and trying to search for anything good. you nick the gold rosary chain his mother gave to him, but he’s hardly worried. just keeps talking, trying to hear your voice, like he isn’t being violently accosted at the moment. besides, he likes being manhandled by a pretty thing like you.

its a wonder why someone so bitty could grow the balls to do something like this. to someone like him, of all people. its the opposite of a power trip. kind of a rush, knowing that you have no idea that he’s entirely in control of the situation you put the both of you in. that if he wanted, he could reverse this little game of yours, have you struggling and crying just for him.

but he denies himself, lets you have your fun.

when you take his wallet (not a big deal, just a couple 20s worth) he asks if you could hand him some of the trojans in there as well, wonders aloud if he’ll need them. he hears you suck in a scandalized breath and shivers in pleasure when your movements grow more shaky as you keep trying to ignore him.

“no need ta take ‘em from me, bonnie. in a plenty givin’ mood, ye can just ask,” he huffs against the wall, looking back at you the best he can with his face smushed against the brick, dark and honeyed eyes. he bargains, in a deeper, more enticing voice, “could take ye ‘ome and let ye ransack the ‘ole place if ye decide ta play a ‘lil nice—“

you yank his head back sharply before smashing his cheek into the brick, earning a groan from the man in your clutches. “shut the fuck up!”

he can taste the blood on his lips, staining his teeth. it hurts but the pain has his boner throbbing hard and unignorable. he’s missed this type of violence. usually the only way he can get it off the field is from simon, but this will do. this will more than do.

perhaps him chuckling despite being mortally injured freaked you out finally because you hastily pocket your ill-gotten gains before turning tail and running off into the night. soap’s not worried. what type of mercenary would he be if he doesn’t keep track of what’s his? it’s not hard to find you after that, where you live, go to work, which movies you like to see in your free time.

so when you spot him just as he sits down next to you in the theater, you can’t help the paralytic feeling of realizing you recognize this man. can barely move when he smirks all pretty at you, split lip and all, as he wraps an arm around your seat and spreads his thighs so wide that they crush against yours, his big calloused hand squeezing your shoulder, pulling you into him like you’re old friends.

“sorry ‘m late,” he murmurs, leaning close to your ear, letting his breath hit hot on your lobe. “traffic ‘n all.”

you try to turn towards him, “you—“

“shh, shh—“ he tightens his grip on your shoulder, keeping you from moving away from him. his sudden strength is frightening. “dinnae distract from the movie, aye? paid good money for it, ah bet.” soap licks his lips and hums before smiling, his hand pushes under your arm to grab your tit. “let’s enjoy it together, then ah’ll take ye ‘ome with me. how’s that sound?”

okay okay i'm listeningggg

popcorn cold and soggy from the butter sits on your lap, the flavored water that was once an icee on your left. his hand is firm around your thigh after fighting through the previews to get him off your tits and arse.

a compromise. sure. but then you've got to go to the bathroom (curious because you've never gone anywhere while the movie is rolling, soap thinks) but okay. when you've gotta go, you've gotta go. the piss bottles he's had to toss in the bin after flying for hours in nikolai's metal stallion can attest to that.

and this, you think, clammy hands fisting the brand new secondhand shirt you got from goodwill, is your way out. away from him. maybe even to the police. you've only ever done this shit out of necessity. hoping to get enough out of the privileged to soothe the pang of gnawing hunger in your stomach (and that of the other street urchins)

whatever you thought could've happened doesn't because he's breathing down your neck from the moment you rise from your seat. his paw is in your back pocket while he walks you to the bathroom.

his hand stays in your pocket as he, with a chivalrous gesture, opens the door to said bathroom. he also aids you in getting in the stall. and no, not the bigger one at the end. he crams you into the very first one that's available, him following right behind. he fits in there like a rubber stopper. shoulders broad enough to touch both walls. arms like trunks cross over the breadth of his chest as he looks down at you expectantly.

"needed to piss, aye? go on. cannae 'ave you runnin' off again."

it's only when he leans down, his nose touching yours as he tells you to, "go 'fore ah make ye," that has your trembling fingers fumbling with the front button of your jeans.

[stevieschrodinger]

It was a fucking miracle that Eddie survived the upside down. He stopped breathing a couple of times, had lost more blood than Steve even thought was in a whole person.

Hawkins was a fucking shambles and the hospital wasn't any better, so a lot of protocols had gone straight out of the window. When they asked Steve, still covered in blood and upside down, what his name was, he'd told them. The Beta nurse had scribbled Steve's name down as Eddie's next of kin and in the thick of it all, absolutely no one questions it.

Been nearly two weeks on life support, covered in wires and machines and a tube down his throat to breath for him. Two surgeries, stealing skin off his thighs and ass to keep his guts in.

But Eddie is alive. And it still says Steve's name at the top of Eddie's notes, even if Wayne has told them he's Eddie's uncle and he's been trading off with Steve to keep watch over Eddie.

Which is why when a doctor pulls Steve aside to talk about Mr. Munson, Steve's kind of used to it and Wayne let's it slide since he can't be there as much as Steve, anyway.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Mr. Harrington," and Steve starts to panic, but tries not to since he saw Eddie two minutes ago and knows he's doing pretty well, all things considered, "because of all the damage, it's very unlikely your Omega will ever carry a pup to term."

Steve sits. He sits hard.

"We haven't informed him as yet, he's still quite delicate. I wasn't sure if you felt the news may be better coming from you?"

Eddie's an Omega.

The newbie doctor standing in front of Steve thinks that Eddie is his Omega.

Eddie probably won't ever be able to have pups.

Steve drifts back to Eddie's room without really answering. He sits and watches Dustin and Eddie play cards. They look at him, now and then, because Steve has no clue what he must scent like but...fuck.

Eddie. Eddie who Steve left alone in the upside down is an Omega. Eddie who's managed to hide his designation this whole time. Eddie, who must be coated in hospital standard blockers right now...which makes sense. The scent of a distressed Omega in pain would fuck up every Alpha on this floor of the hospital, so standard practice with blockers makes sense; helping to hide Eddie's secret.

And now Eddie probably can't ever have pups. And that's probably Steve's fault.

"Hey, Steve, man, what's...what's up?". Dustin. Standing right in front of Steve and Steve has no fucking idea what to do except he knows he needs to face up to this.

"Can I get some time with Eddie? Just us?"

Dustin looks like he's about to argue and give them both shit, but there must be a look on Steve's face or something in his voice or something in his scent, so Dustin doesn't. Packs up his shit and very carefully hugs Eddie goodbye.

And Steve's got no fucking idea what to do or say once they're alone, so he finds himself perching on the edge of Eddie's bed, holding his hand. And sure, Eddie lets him, but he's also looking at their joined hands and then looking at Steve like he's lost his damn mind.

"The, the ah, doctor, they still think I'm next of kin, your, uhm, your Alpha."

Eddie, slowly and carefully, pulls his hand out of Steve's, watching with wide eyes, frozen, like he doesn't know what to expect. Like this could go any way. Like people who know Eddie's secondary gender haven't reacted too well in the past.

Steve swallows thickly, "they don't think you'll be able to have pups, Eddie."

Eddie plays with his own fingers in lieu of his absent rings. "Oh," he says, and then starts to cry. Covers his face for a moment and sobs a broken noise, but just as Steve reaches out for him, tries to offer comfort, Eddie pulls his hands away and straightens up. He wipes his face abruptly, "doesn't matter, probably never have any anyway. Never going find a mate," Eddie shrugs, "doesn't matter."

"Why?"

Eddie scoffs, still crying and wiping at his leaking nose, "come on Steve, if there's a diametric opposite to a good Omega, it's me."

"Well...maybe no Alpha even gets a chance to change your mind if they don't even know you're an Omega, Eddie."

Eddie just scoffs again.

"This is my fault -"

"Don't," Eddie snaps at him, "everything I do I choose to do, this is not your fault."

"Yeah, but-"

"What? If you'd known I was an Omega you wouldn't have let me go? Don't you fucking dare! I chose! It's up to me what I do, and maybe shit like this is the exact reason I hide!"

Steve holds his hands up in defeat, at least Eddie is angry enough to have stopped crying. His lashes are still damp though, and the anger has brought the first colour to Eddie's skin that Steve's seen for weeks. Steve always thought Eddie was pretty; at least now maybe he knows why.

Now is not the moment to say that to Eddie though, but maybe, maybe later. Maybe now it's all over. Maybe once Eddie's back on his feet.

"Stop fucking staring at me, Okay! I'm still just Eddie! This doesn't mean anything, nothing has changed."

"Right," Steve says, "no, of course. I won't tell anyone." That seems to appease Eddie, at least.

Enough that when Steve reaches his hand across the bed again, Eddie starts playing with Steve's fingers other than his own.

[secret-sturniolo]

tour bus - matt sturniolo

based on this request - Pls do one where the reader and Matt decide to fck in the tour bus while everyone else was inside of target getting stuff, can Matt also be sub and have a mommy kink? Thanks youuu :)

warnings - smut, sub!matt, mommy kink, a little bit of praise kink sprinkled in

a/n - iv'e never written sub!matt or a mommy kink before, so you guys will have to tell me if you like it or not.

Me being Matt's girlfriend, he invited me to come on tour with them. Of course, I said yes. We were now halfway through their month-long tour, which meant it has been a while since Matt and I were able to have sex, and we were both pretty pent up at this point.

We were on the road again traveling to the next venue, and I had been subtly teasing Matt all day. Little things like placing my hand on his thigh, slowly moving my hand farther up. Things like that, that I know drive him crazy. His breath would hitch, and he had to pull himself out of his trance to engage in the conversation, so as not to become suspicious to those around us.

"Baby, you have to stop." He whispers in my ear. I just smirk at him in return.

I decide to give him a break from the teasing, going back to the conversation with Chris, Nick, and Madi. It wasn't long before we got off the highway to stop at a Target since the others had some things they needed to pick up.

"Y/n, Matt, you guys coming in?" Nick asked us as he was getting ready to leave the bus.

I answered for both of us. "No, that's okay, we are going to just stay here."

Nick shrugged his shoulders and left the bus with the rest. Once I knew they were gone, I turned to Matt.

"So, it looks like we're all alone for a while." I said suggestively.

"Come kiss me?" Was all he said.

I moved to sit on his lap, and cupped his cheeks in my hands. Our lips connecting in a scorching kiss, both of us finally releasing our pent up feelings. His hands were on my hips, holding me close as our tongues clashed with each other.

"Are you gonna let mommy make you feel good?" I say, kissing his neck.

"Y/n....We don't have a lot of time!"

"Then we better get started, hm?"

He inhaled deeply. "Shit, how could I say no to that?"

I kissed him deeply once more before moving off of his lap so I could pull down his sweats. I could see that he was already semi-hard and sensitive. I began to palm him through his boxers.

"Y/n, no teasing, please!" He begged.

I made him look me in the eyes. "No, you do as mommy says, remember?" I told him sternly.

I was desperate to make him feel good, (and make myself feel good), so I gave in to what he wanted, pulling down his boxers and letting his dick spring out. My hand grabbed the base of his cock, slowly jerking it before leaning down to take him in my mouth.

"Ah fuck! Please, mommy!"

"Please what, baby?"

"Please ride me!" he whines.

"Have you been a good boy? Are you sure you deserve that?"

"Yes, mommy I've been so good, you know that!"

I moved again so that I was back on his lap, and teased his tip at my entrance before lowering myself onto his cock. We both sighed at the relief as I began bouncing up and down. My hands were gripping on to his shoulders, while his hands remained on my waist. Strings of curses left both of our mouths as Matt began thrusting up, meeting my hips halfway.

"Fuck, Matt! Making mommy feel so good..." I trailed off, lost in a trance of pleasure.

"I'm gonna cum! Can I cum?" Matt asked me.

"Go ahead baby, I'm close too!" I said, a moaning mess.

Within seconds we came simultaneously, him filling me up with his hot cum. Out of breath, we both stayed still until we realized that our time was quickly running out.

"Fuck, as much as I want to savor this moment, they are probably going to be coming back any minute, so we better get cleaned up." Matt told me.

I realized he was right, and not wanting to get caught, we both made our way to the busses bathroom and got cleaned up. Just as we were walking back to the couch, Nick, Chris, and Madi burst through the door holding shopping bags.

"Hey guys! You didn't have any fun without us, did you?"

Matt and I shared a small smirk.

Little do they know...

[darling-i-read-it]

Reunion Part 2

Part 1  

Trevor Philips x fem!reader, Michael Townley x fem!reader 

Word Count: 3,4k

Warnings: general gta things, murder, the mission where tracey is auditioning for fame or shame, violence, heavy allusions to smut 

Author’s Note: Trevor Philips <3 Trevor <3 T <3 (also I don’t plan on continuing this idea but would love requests for this game if anyone has any :)) 

Tagging: (hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you! You showed interest in a second part and I finally was able to finish what I had <3): @pngxxx, @ugh-why-ugh, @raspberriesbbylol 

Summary: The reader and Trevor go to confront Michael.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

When he pulled up to Michael’s house it was with a slight amount of tension. You were more nervous than him. You had decided the two of you would crash at his friends place while you were away from Sandy Shores, though he made you swear you would go back to the trailer. You weren’t sure why he had fallen in love with the place but you were willing to oblige. You just wanted him to shower first. 

“So this is where Michael Townely is living out his days,” Trevor grumbled. He shut the car door aggressively. You crossed your arms. There was a car in the driveway. You wondered if it was his or Amanda’s. Maybe the kids. They would be so old by now. The last time you had seen them they were just little ones, running around, finding personalities. 

“Michael Townely leaves the door unlocked,” you noted as you pushed the front door open. 

“Fuckin rookie.” 

Trevor pushed past you. You could hear the buzz of a conversation happening in the other room. You followed him as he followed the noise. 

“Stop it you two! You’re ruining my fucking yoga!” You recognized the voice of Amanda. The shrill was hard to forget. 

“Somebody say yoga?” Trevor stepped forward. You remained back a bit, watching to see how they would react to him. Plus, you knew Trevor wanted his moment. There was a long stunned silence. 

“Trevor?” Michael asked. Even hearing his voice made you angry. You didn’t know how Trevor was holding it together. 

“Michael…” “Hey..it’s good to see you man.” 

“Hmm yeah I bet it is. ‘Course, I’m not the one that’s been resurrected.” You stepped into the room, causing another gentle stunned silence. 

“Nice house you got here Mikey.”

Michael had gone to your house. He had waited there and you never came. He figured you had skipped town at the very noise of something happening with the job but he should’ve known better. He should’ve known you would go to Trevor first. You would always go to Trevor first. 

Michael put his son behind him subtly. You tilted your head at the silent insult. You had held that kid the day he was born. 

“I got in a bit of an awkward situation.” 

“Hmm you’re telling me bro. One of those…fake your own deaths to your best buddy and then run off with the dough..live in a big mansion. Awkward. Situation.” Trevor approached him. Michael eyed you. If he had the capacity he would be stunned by the look of you. He had missed you so much. A part of him had even missed Trevor. Maybe he just missed the then. 

“That’s one way of looking at it.” 

“Yeah? Do you have any other ways of looking at it?” you asked. You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall beside a man who had an unnaturally large bun in his hair. You recognized the others in the room but not him. Maybe he was Amanda’s boytoy. You almost snorted. 

“It’s been a long time. I’ve been in witness protection, I still am.”

“Save the excuses Michael,” you argued. You pushed yourself off the wall. 

“Where are our manners!?” Trevor exclaimed. “We come waltzing in and don’t even say hi to old friends. Amanda, it is good to see you. I missed you. You used to be fatter. Nice new tits by the way,” he said, approaching her. She backed away as he walked forward. You eyed her evenly. He pointed at Jimmy. “Jimmy, you used to be thinner. But ah, can’t blame you.” He gestured to Jimmy’s parents. 

You stared, reminded of a life you could have had and never got. 

Trevor stopped at the man with the man bun. 

“Who are you?” 

“Namaste. I’m Fabien.” You snorted. Trevor turned to you.

 “You all remember Y/N! Except you Fabien.” You waved. “You know, she thought I was dead. I thought she was dead. I wonder who would’ve pushed that idea!” Trevor was standing in front of Michael again. You walked forward. 

“You look good Michael,” you mused. “Amanda, are you fucking Fabien? I’ve gotta know, I’m sorry.” Amanda gasped and tried to stammer out half thought up answer. Trevor interrupted her. 

“Where’s Tracey?” 

“Jim, where’s your sister?” Michael questioned. 

“Uh..um…uh she’s..she’s trying out for TV.” Everyone turned to look at him. The tension dissipated. 

“She’s what?” Michael asked. 

“Yeah, she’s auditioning for Fame or Shame.” 

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know, it’s that talent slash skill show. She loves it, you guys know that.” “What’s her talent?” “Dancing.” 

“Oh Christ, she’s a horrible dancer.” 

“She might disagree with you on that.” 

“Jesus Christ, now. Now? Where?” 

“Um..the Maze Bank Arena.” 

Trevor jumped into the father son conversation. 

“Our little Tracey being humiliated, let’s go. We go get her.” 

“We?” Michael asked. 

“We,” you agreed. “You gonna stand there and argue while your daughter becomes a national laughing stock? You’re worse than I thought.” Michael held your eye contact. 

“Fine.” 

-

You grabbed Tracey, who was ecstatic to see you and Trevor until she wasn’t. Then you followed some dick head through Los Santos. Trevor punched him, stripped him, then recorded him doing some shitty dance. All regular Trevor things. 

“You comin’ babe?” Trevor asked, hoping into the front end of a semi. 

“I’ll meet you back at the apartment,” you promised. “I’ll have this asshole drive me.” You gestured to Michael.

“Don’t put any bullets in his head without me.”

“Yes sir.” 

“Don’t be long!” 

Trevor took a hard turn but before he left completely he leaned out the window. 

“Hey Michael!” 

“Yeah Trevor?” 

He leaned forward, a small smug smile on his face.

“She fucked me. She fucked me.” Nine years of that lingering question and there it was. There was the truth that Michael had been hanging off of. The way Trevor said it, he knew it was true. The eye roll on your face was too obvious. “See ya soon.” 

He drove away. You were left in his dust, in the Trevorless hole. You looked at Michael.

“That true?” he asked, like he didn’t know the answer. 

“Nine years. All our money. Death certificate.” He nodded slowly. 

“So you found the easiest psycho on the block?” Your jaw hardened. 

“I found my best friend.” Michael knew he was being hard on you. He shouldn’t be. You weren’t insane like Trevor. You were insane with Trevor. He might’ve been able to build a relationship with you if he had told you he was alive sooner. 

You were offended. Michael was acting like he hadn’t just waltzed back into your life after being resurrected. He had no right to judge you and Trevor. 

“I thought you were dead,” you told him. He nodded once, gesturing to the car. You got in the passenger seat. There was something to be said about you trusting him enough to drive you around. He could cap you and leave you, you knew that. He was capable of it. But he wasn’t going to, not now that he finally got you back. 

“I couldn’t exactly tell you I was, after it all went down.” He started the car. 

“Where are we going?” 

“I ain’t taking you back to Trevor if that’s what you’re asking.” You rolled your eyes. He avoided your question. “I knew you were out there, I figured Trevor was. I knew Lester was. It was better for everyone if I stayed dead.” 

“Brad went to jail.” Michael gave you a side eye. You squinted at him, confused. Finally your eyes opened wide in realization. “They killed Brad.” 

“Brad died,” he said, like it was any better. 

“Who is in that jail cell?”

“No one.” Your mouth dropped a bit in amazement. All this time, the grave you had been mourning at was not Michael’s but Brad’s. You felt a pang of guilt. He deserved your grief all this time. You looked straight ahead. He was driving through the heart of Los Santos. 

“Damn,” you muttered. “Still can’t believe you’re alive Mikey.” 

“Me too girl. Me too.” He took a sharp turn. “Thank you for helping me with Tracey. Not that I needed it.” 

“You had it handled, I know.” You rolled your eyes. You glanced over at him. Your Michael Townley, alive again. You shook your head. “Amanda seems happy.”

He scoffed. 

“You met Fabian. She’s clearly happy.” You snorted. 

“I never liked her and then Jimmy came along and…”

“Yeah well I wanted a family,” he admitted. “Fat lot of good it’s done me now. Both my kids hate me and my wife cheats on me. I’m back in the world of crime with my formally dead best friends.” “We were not the dead ones.” 

Michael thought of Lester’s words. 

She deserved better than both of you. But you have to know she would’ve always chosen him. 

He shook off the haunting thoughts. He didn’t let himself feel how much he had loved you. 

“I went to your apartment,” he said.

“Stalker.” 

“Yesterday,” he corrected. “I waited for you. I had Lester tell me where you lived and I waited,” he explained. “You never came.” 

“Yeah I think Trevor cleared that one up for you,” you muttered. “I was in a shitty trailer bed in Sandy Shores.”

“You were always welcome in my bed  in Rockford Hills.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Townley, you’re a married man!” He glanced over at you. You met his gaze. The joke hung in the air and slowly became more serious. You pursed your lips and a sense of melancholy went over his eyes. “What a life it would’ve been though huh?”

“It doesn’t have to be-”

“Yeah Mikey. It does.” Your voice was serious. The one you used during business. He pulled into the parking lot of the boardwalk. He wasn’t sure what made him come here. He just didn’t wanna go home yet. Kids passed in front of the car, going towards the rides. The car stayed running. “You died on me.”

“I’m not dead now.”

The look you gave him was not a forgiving one. You reached across the center console, grabbing his hand. You smiled sadly at him. 

“I gotta go.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

For a moment he thought you were gonna kiss him. Your lips were so alluring and so close. The same lips he had fantasized about when he was still a kid technically, early twenties, filled with hormones. Your look was too fucking sad. He had gotten you back, your lips were right there. What had he always sworn he was going to do if he saw you again? Damn Amanda, damn Trevor? 

He kissed you. It was feverish. Fast, passionate, filled with years of tension. You kissed him back for a moment. There was a moment in that kiss, maybe longer than a moment, where it was all okay. It was the kiss he had always wanted and it felt as good as he had always thought it would. 

You pulled away and got out of the car. You didn’t speak, you didn’t break that moment for him. He was still leaning across the console when you left the car and he lingered there for a moment too long. You took out your phone, walked towards the amusement rides, and called a cab. 

-

You tossed money at the cab driver, enough for a tip as well. The driver left you quickly, back at his job just as quickly as he had come. You were grateful the drive wasn’t long. 

Michael’s lips still stained yours. You wanted to kiss Trevor. Bad. 

It wasn’t that the kiss with Michael wasn’t good. In fact, it was great. It was a good kiss with a guy you had once loved, with a guy you could’ve built a good life with. But now it tasted like betrayal and lost worlds.  

You didn’t bother knocking. The door opened slowly into the hallway. You could hear voices coming from inside the apartment. 

“Debra isn’t gonna like this,” Floyd said nervously. 

“Debra isn’t gonna like any of this. Don’t fuckin worry, I’ll make sure you’re man of the year in way of making girlfriends angry,” Trevor’s voice responded. When you turned the corner you could see Trevor was writing on the walls. The main entrance that had once said live, laugh, love, was now crudely covered with eat, shit, die. You recognized the handwriting. 

“I really would prefer it if you didn’t,” Floyd said. Trevor turned around to answer him, some sarcastic answer hanging on his lips. He didn’t say it when he saw you. His face immediately softened and whatever snarky comment he was going to say died in his mouth. 

“That was quick.” 

“Michael’s fast,” you muttered. He narrowed his eyes on you. 

“You didn’t-”

“No. No.” He nodded once. He felt relieved to hear that. You were his. He wasn’t gonna share you any more, he was sick of sharing you. 

“Do you think you could get him to stop?” Floyd questioned. You looked at the walls, covered in black markers. You shook your head. 

“He doesn’t have a leash.” 

“My girl.” He waltzed back over to you, cupping your cheek with his hand and kissing you. It was the kind of kiss you were wanting. You melted into it, not caring that Floyd was watching. 

Floyd wanted to make a comment about how you deserved better. But the way you leaned into the kiss was something Debra had never done for him. Maybe he could take some notes from Trevor. 

“I grabbed the guest bedroom. King bed.” 

“That’s Debra’s bed,” Floyd muttered, but neither of you listened. 

“That sounds fancy,” you admitted. You smiled up at him, happy to be back. It was like a dream. All of those fantasies you had about what life could’ve been had started to mold into this weird perfect situation with Trevor. “You test it out yet?”

“I wanted to wait for you m’lady,” he said, lowly. You rolled your eyes but it didn’t seem genuine with the smile on your lips. He put his hand on the small of your back. 

“Did you take a shower?” He was the one to roll his eyes this time. 

“You’re askin a lot of me doll.” 

“We need to go shopping too. I can get you all snazzy,” you promised. “I’ll steal some of Townley’s money to do it too.” 

“You had me at steal.”

He was like a love struck puppy. It read in his eyes. Trevor fell in love with every girl who gave him a passing look. This one was looking right at him, always had been. He was so exhilarated with winning the game he and Michael had played for so long that he couldn’t feel anything else except lust and love. 

“Shower.” He groaned, long, dramatic. 

“You wanna come?” Your smile was playful. You pushed him towards the bathroom. He took it as a no. His hands lingered on you for as long as you let him. “I’ll be five minutes.” 

“Scrub between your toes too T.” 

“Yeah yeah.” He walked into the bathroom, waving. He hadn’t brought clothes in with him. He would either walk back out in the same outfit, defeating the purpose of the shower, or he’d walk out naked. You walked to the guest bedroom and grabbed some clothes for him, feeling Floyd’s eyes on you. 

“How long do you think you guys will be staying?” he asked nervously. He could read Trevor but you were harder to understand. You seemed normal for the most part. He was worried you might blow up on him. 

“Hopefully not long,” you promised. You could hear the water running so you opened the door. 

“Ocupado!” Trevor called. You put his clothes on the sink. 

“Wear these.” 

“Is it lingerie?” You rolled your eyes and shut the door behind you. 

“I’m sorry we crashed like this. Been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

“He doesn’t exactly care for boundaries does he?”

“Don’t say that too loud Floyd,” you joked. You looked around. Everytime you entered this apartment it was slightly dirtier. You wondered what would happen when Debra returned, storming through the door. “We’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible,” you lied. 

“Okay,” he muttered. He looked down at the table, smeared with pizza sauce and other substances he didn’t want to identify. 

“Sorry about him. He’s just kinda..like that.”

“So you two haven’t seen each other in a long time?” he repeated. You nodded once. 

“I thought he was dead. He thought I was dead. Life of crime is not for the faint of heart,” you said offhandedly. You wondered if you should run to your apartment and grab some clothes. You wondered how long Trevor planned on staying. 

“Yeah I don’t think I wanna be involved,” he explained. You shrugged. 

“Happens to the best of us.” 

You walked into the guest bedroom to look around for some clothes of your own to change into. You tossed your phone on the sheets, noting the new contact in it. Michael De Santa. There was a text from him. 

You looked at it from afar, like reading it through a squint would make it less real. 

It doesn’t have to be like this. 

That was it. He knew it had to be like this. You had told him. You had a text from Lester as well. His faceless contact made your phone screen bright. 

It’s safer to stay out of this, was all he said. You rolled your eyes. When had you ever cared about how safe something was? Your bullet wound in the shoulder ached with the memories. You didn’t like being warned or being persuaded. You turned your phone around. 

The bathroom door opened. You were standing beside the closet, moving aside some of Debra’s things. Thankfully she seemed to have brought most of it with her, wherever she went. 

Trevor walked into the room, closing the door lightly behind him. You met his eyes. He was clean, wet from the humid water. Finally wearing clean clothes, sweatpants and a shirt. He dipped his head to kiss you like you were giving him his last breath. 

“I wanna get married,” he muttered against your lips. He was leaning against the bed, his back legs flush with the sheets. You laughed. “I’m serious. It’s been too long. We would’ve done it ages ago.”

“Slow down cowboy.” 

You gently pushed him onto the bed. He looked up at you with the most devoted eyes. You straddled him, pushing your hair so it was out of your face. 

“Aren’t you wanted by the FIB?” you questioned. “You think they’re gonna sign our marriage certificate?”

“We can get an Elvis. Get drunk. Have a month long honeymoon.” His eyes wandered your body. His body reacted quickly to you being on top of him. The thought was alluring, you couldn’t lie.

“Okay,” you breathed, kissing him. “Later. We have all the time in the world now,” you promised. “I just wanna stay right…here.” He moaned as your lips nipped his ear. 

“Whatever you want.”