#now I have to pick sides with something unrelated to me

[kavehater]

I going to freaking kill myself.

[obeymeow]

being neurodivergent is all fun and games until you remember those hourly quote bots on twitter and think well maybe I can't make a bot anymore but I could schedule a few quotes a day, that shouldn't be hard. it sounds fun to have a bunch of quotes of my favorite character Thirteen from hit mobile game Obey Me! and its sequel Obey Me! Nightbringer. and then you think about how arduous collecting the quotes is going to be but she's only been in the games for maybe a year and a half with little screentime and you love collecting things so you start but then you remember that you love collecting things so naturally you have ALL of her screentime in the game and suddenly you have 45k characters of quotes and are several lessons into season 4 (which is truly a trial in and of itself) but not nearly close enough to the end but you refuse to just stop collecting the quotes and make the account with the EXCESS of what you have already because you literally only have season 4 to get through and if you don't do it just seeing the bot (because now you've been informed you can make tumblr bots instead) will haunt you with that knowledge even if nobody else would ever know. this is a general anecdote of a situation that could easily happen to anyone though and not in any way related to my life

[eightstarr]

what's mine — ellie williams.

summary: the day you left for this assignment, ellie remembers thinking it would be okay— or maybe it was you who said it, your hands over her tense shoulders, her fingers tugging at your shirt, “you’ll be okay.” she goes home and knows it to be true, like words from a god. she’ll be okay and you’ll be back. what’s left to do but count the hours?

warnings: descriptions of violence (not very detailed), suggestive content near the end!

notes: uhhh i love being dramatic and i think it shows here. all i think about is the action of coming home to someone who loves you and how it is as meaningful now as it was a thousand years ago and as it will be in a hundred years but whatever haha sorry about that guys. if you read this i love you btw

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

Being without Ellie is disorienting. The first week feels like walking alone in a dark room, feeling the walls for a light switch, running into sharp corners that stab your sides. You miss her like it's a sickness, less a longing and more a threat to whatever you’re made of.

There's a small community way outside of Jackson offering a trade. Maria makes it sound simple, like everything else. “They know us, it’ll be quick. You pick up the supplies, drop off our part of the deal, and come back.”

It takes 26 days. The exchange is simple but the journey less so, you and three others have to carry home the much needed medical supplies through herds of infected and a heavy storm that slows you down and cuts off your communication for three terrifying nights.

Ellie wanders the house and feels like a stranger, sickly, a sleepless corpse searching for living blood. The light coming through the windows feels too bright and her skin abnormally cold. She knows, or thinks, that if she’s not careful she could get lost in it— merge every wall together until there’s nothing left to see but a stark flatness, an unfamiliar box. The space is not huge. It's not a tall castle or a manor in the countryside or anything fitting to the theatricality of loneliness, but it’s your home. So much of you is in it. Ellie finds herself focusing on a different thing each passing day, clinging to them with a nauseating desperation, a hundred random pieces of you scattered like breadcrumbs to keep her sane. A book with a folded corner somewhere along the first half of the story, your favorite mug next to the sink, an old pair of jeans ripped at the knee on your side of the drawer. Too many things for you not to come back.

“Do you think I'm losing my mind?” she asks, a soft wrinkle between her furrowed brows, her eyes focused on a random spot ahead. “I mean, it’s been two weeks,” she’s trying to sound like it's not as bad as it looks, like she finds any of it funny or interesting instead of plainly horrifying. The sole of her shoes hits the floor in an anxious rhythm, mocking her— tap, tap, tap, tap. “Isn’t that fucked up?”

Dina curses at the lighter until it flickers back to life with a weak orange flame, holding it near the end of the half finished blunt. She inhales and passes it over, breathing out, “You’re not crazy.”

A pause. Ellie lets the comment comfort her for a single second before it flies right through her head, sounding more quiet than usual when she admits, “...I have this feeling like someone took something from me.”

Dina raises her eyebrows, her chuckle cut off by a short cough, smoke itching her throat. “You mean, like… what’s her name?” she squints her eyes and tries to remember. 

The name worms around Ellie’s head like it has been for days, bold letters, clear as day. She makes no attempt to let it pass through her lips, self aware and unrelenting at the same time, maybe finding some indefensible satisfaction in the fact that it can be forgotten. Cruel, you'd tease, and Ellie would smirk a lot like she tries not to now.

Dina gives up a second later, “Whatever— the girl that volunteered to go with them before you could. You're blaming her?”

“I guess.”

“Hm. That’s a little…”

“Don’t say crazy—”

“Crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

Ellie scoffs, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek. Dina argues unlike anyone else. She’s confident, her goal clear and her strategy already lined up before you get a word in, loaded like a gun. But her strongest contender, perhaps the only one, might be Ellie’s simple stubbornness. “I’m concerned. She got picked over me even though I've studied that route a hundred fucking times. I could've done a better job,” she says, steady and tireless like bulletproof glass.

“At getting the supplies or at taking care of your girlfriend?”

“You’re starting to sound like Maria.”

Dina pauses for a short moment before she shrugs. “Maria makes good points.”

Ellie takes one last hit of the blunt and flicks it across the room to die out somewhere on the permanently damp floor. She tries to believe it. No one took you, she thinks, you left dutifully like anyone else in Jackson would've, like Ellie would've. It’s a dangerous trip but a job like any other, the same risk of deadly infection that comes with any of them. She should be used to it by now. Does it not also exist every other day of the year?

Still, she can't remember the last time she didn't see your face for this long. You’ve been dating for a little over three years, living together for half of that— it's a terrifyingly meaningful chunk of your young lives, months and months of seeing you everyday, of falling asleep with her face on the crook of your neck and waking up with your fingers pressing into her waist. You've built a world where things like this don’t happen, where all Ellie can think about as she leaves home is the way you hum in the mornings, soft and sleepy and so fucking cute, when you wake up to her back against your chest and her hair on your face. She thinks about her own laugh, how shy it sounds, how your lips press to her head before she turns around to claim a proper kiss.

But now you’re not here, and she’s too terrified to even utter the words out loud, and there's a hole in her chest where you should be that makes her feel insane everywhere she goes. It's an open wound leaving a hazardous trail of shame and memories, humming in her ears like a boiling kettle, who took what's mine?

Ellie has never considered herself to be the jealous type, but she never was the type to sleep with her back turned to someone this comfortably, either. It’s different with you. It's theatricality, it’s the coldness of that bed at night, it’s your legs tangled with hers like growing roots now disjointed. It’s a thing, breathing and alive, screaming at nothing— I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

Is that girl you went with hanging from your every word in that way she always does? Is that a shameful thought to have? Ellie wipes it clean in a second and finds it immediately there again, at the front of her mind like a message on a cloudy mirror. She can't think about anything else. Is the storm keeping the two of you awake? Does a part of you find the girl brave for volunteering? Is she turning to look at you and asking, just loud enough, are you asleep? That fall earlier was rough, how are you feeling? Is she looking at your wounds like they matter more than doing a good job? Is your blood, warm and red and yours, on her hands now?

The last of the smoke spills past her lips in a sigh. Ellie pulls her knees closer to her chest and tugs at the loose thread on your ripped jeans.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

There’s a comfortable weight that keeps you under, the loving press of her arm resting over your chest, her thumb brushing your chin. The sun feels warm where it’s draped across Ellie’s back, white tank top wrinkled slightly up her waist.

She watches you until you let out a little sigh, squint one eye open and then slowly the next, a smile stretching your lips as soon as your sight focuses on her. She looks beautiful. She looks just like she did before you left, your girl.

It’s weird— you’ve showered, scrubbed your hands clean and raw, changed clothes. And still you feel like you’ve brought in something dirty, like it’ll be stuck on you for a while, the grime, the guns, the storm. Your muddy shoes must still be sitting by the front door. Something in your head screams that you should get rid of them, burn them like an evidence of guilt. Do you look anything like you did before you left? You feel like a worn version of yourself, sticky and darkened. It’s a ridiculous worry to have, but the thought comes hand in hand with embarrassment and you can feel it crawling up your neck. You cover your face with your hands and groan tiredly, shy.

Ellie laughs, warm like musk, salve on a wound.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mutter, voice ridden with exhaustion and joy all at once. The thing, love, obsession, both— breathes along with you. "Freak."

"Yeah, I was,” she shifts to sit on your lap, one knee on either side of you, spilling her confession easily. Ellie leans over to push your hands away from your face and press her lips to yours, passionate but short lived, still softly brushing against each other when she says, "I missed this face."

You chuckle, eyes tracing over her freckled cheeks, hands squeezing her thighs, feeling strangely like you’re being washed clean. “I missed you.”

Ellie closes her eyes and rests her forehead against yours, her fingers caressing your cheeks, looking at you again when her thumb brushes against the ridge of a scar. It’s a warped line that almost follows the shape of your cheekbone, from your hairline to somewhere near the corner of your lips. She'd seen it last night, nauseous with worry and relief to have you back, her vision clouded. The morning reveals it in a different, heartbreaking light. It’s okay, you’d said during the night, your hands on either side of her face much like hers are on you now, didn't even need stitches. Ellie tries to let that sink in, make the guilt feel any better. But it can't. Maybe you’d been saved the prick of a needle, but she knows it still hurt, she knows it bled and stung. It feels like a betrayal. If I can't save you the pain, she thinks, I owe you the witnessing, the chance to clean its wry edges, pat it dry. "How'd you get this one?" she asks, as softly as she can.

You’d been prepared for the question but not the devastation in her eyes. It falls over you like a ton of bricks, her love making your chest ache and sinking you back into the memory.

There was an empty house, or what looked like one. Pieces of broken glass scattered over the rotting wood of an old, wobbly table. A man's hand placed forcefully on your head. The side of your face rammed into the table with a thud when he pushed you down, the faint pain of something slicing into your cheek made worse by your struggle to get free. A kick and he stumbled back. A slice of your knife and he fell dead. You don't think the fact will do much to comfort Ellie. So, in hopes of sparing her, you hum and shake your head. "Come here," you say, or beg, a hand on the back of her neck like fond guidance. "Let me kiss your pretty face."

She feels soft like satin on your lips, tastes like honey and black tea. Ellie kisses like she argues, experienced and unruly all at once, with a point to make— I need you and I want you to know it. Her tongue slips past your parted lips and brings a muffled sound from your throat that almost makes her pull slightly away, if it weren't for the feeling of your fingers tightening on her neck to have her closer. A faint thought crosses Ellie’s mind, a feeling like pity for the person she was before you, whoever that was, an old self who couldn't know what it's like to be devoured so caringly.

She brushes her nose against yours and you let out a sigh that sounds painfully like a prayer, her short hair a dark veil over your eyes when she turns her head to press kisses on your cheek. "You can't leave me like that again," she breathes out.

You swallow her words, a confused wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Ellie—”

A kiss cuts you off. You slide your hands up her thighs to her waist, a surprised hum vibrating against her lips when she wraps her fingers around your wrists and squeezes, as if to keep them there. She leans back and stares into you, and for the first time since you’ve known Ellie, you can't tell if she's commanding you or begging. “I won’t let you.”

It’s a gesture. It goes beyond the reality of your lives, the fact that any day either one of you could be made to leave again, that any day either one of you could die. It means I missed you. It means I need it to be me who looks after you. It means I love you.

Your stomach flutters, hungry with an urgent craving. And like you have every day since you’ve known Ellie, you find yourself unable to deny her love or the indulging promise of a different world— but maybe those mean the same thing. "I'm not leaving you," you say, breathless, and it might as well be true.

Ellie makes a sound in response that feels painfully close to a moan, a soft mmhm that clouds your head of anything that may or may not exist outside of this room. The tip of her nose brushes against your neck and then continues its way down, her fingers sneaking inside your shirt, pulling up the fabric and pressing kisses over the skin that’s revealed. "I love you," she says, almost near the band of your underwear, her blushed lips parted. You feel her breath against the burning fire in your lower stomach, reaching out to cradle her cheek against your hand. She feels hot, flushed pink under her freckles, and you’re not sure if she hears you say I love you, Ellie as much as she watches you mouth the words. She presses her face further into your hand, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, begging as if she’d ever have to, “Baby, I need— please.”

You don't hear yourself say yes, but the look in her eyes says you must have.

[fanaticsnail]

Humiliation: Doflamingo

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 3,300+

Themes: Doflamingo x gn!reader, dub con, humiliation, dom-flamingo, compliance, handjob, bukkake, losing, Doflamingo is a poor winner, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, inappropriate use of Den-Den snails

Notes: Day 4 of my celebration event. This is the first time I have written Doflamingo a little more dominant and unhinged. I hope you like it!

“Come closer, little marine,” The pink-feather shrouded warlord condescendingly uttered as he wriggled his finger to beckon you over, “Don't get all shy on me now. Where's that attitude I saw in the arena, hm?”

Sighing out a large exhale of defeat, you enter into the current sterile office housing Donquixote Doflamingo: warlord of the seas. He was a thorn in your side, and through your hasty rise through the ranks, you managed to be in close proximity to the ten foot tall gentleman more often than not. His constant need to get the better of a situation, the desire to vex your boss, Tsuru, and his unrelenting attention on you was unnerving.

Giving him a scowl, you slam the door shut behind you and proceed to lock it. His smirk increased in a large, unhinged grin at your abrasiveness, sitting back at his desk with one knee hooked over the other.

“That's it, keep pouting,” Doflamingo encouraged you, moving one of his arms towards the desk. “This just makes it better for me.” Awakening one of the slumbering snails on the desk, he gently coaxed it with a swipe of his digits over the shell to begin recording your slow and somber dredge to the warlord.

“Starting with the button at the top, slowly pop them for me,” he picked up the shell in his hands, gesturing to the chest of your uniform. You released a dissatisfied sigh, rolling your eyes and undoing the top buttons shielding your body from his view slowly. “There you go. Good job. Pop, pop, pop.” He took up the smaller Den-Den to eye height, which did nothing to shield his menacing smile from your field of vision.

“Donquixote, is the Den-Den necessary?” you growled at him, continuing to pop open your uniform slowly with a grueling and steady pace. You glared into the beady eyes of the snail, peering right into Doflamingo’s soul from behind it, and causing him to chuckle in glee.

“It is for my personal use, yes, my little marine,” he nodded, gesturing for you to slow down your movements to prolong his experience. You growled at him, pinching your sleeves and unbarring the brass from their sockets to move more freely in your rapidly increasing state of undress.

“I am not yours,” you retort, drawing your hands back to your waist and popping the button over your naval. Your lip remained curled as you drew your hand over the final button, holding firmly atop the last button.

“As I understand it, that's exactly what you are for the next…” he batted his eyelashes beneath the shroud of his ruby glasses while humming off in feigned contemplation, “... hour or so. I'm going to enjoy each moment, and you, little marine, just have to act all huffy and angry at me, pretending like you don't want it.”

“I'm not acting,” you stood your ground firmly, almost stomping your foot to add emphasis to your resolve, “I don't want it.��

“Sure you don't,” he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and focussing the eyes of the snail on your form, “Last button now.” You groaned, reaching for the last button and popping it. Rolling your coat from your shoulders, you stand with your chest bare in front of Donquixote Doflamingo. All he uttered was a rolling purr of praise for you, “Good job. Perfect little marine.”

“Oh for fucks sake-,” you attempt to express your disdain, only to be silenced by his immediate hiss.

“-Language,” He chastised you, clicking his tongue while shaking both his head and the snail along with him, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Gonna need to stuff that mouth full of something to teach you some manners. On your knees, marine.”

“Excuse me?” Your shock is adamant in your tone, your arms raising up to cover your chest in reaction to his forward suggestion. “Donquixote, I didn't sign up for that.” He arched his brow, removing his head away from the snail and gazing his pink eyes over the brim of his glasses at you.

“It's ‘Doflamingo’,” he shook his head once more, correcting you and gesturing for you to remove your hands from your chest while beckoning you over towards him, “And yes you did.”

“No I didn't.” You stood firm, refusing to move a muscle in response to his suggestion.

“The terms of our little bet on the outcome of your sword duel were: ‘If you win, you get to claim my feather coat and glasses as a trophy for your victory’.” he recounted, making grandiose gestures with his hands waving out, “‘And should you lose, I get to humiliate you in the privacy of a room of my choosing’. This is my little victory, marine. Get on your knees.”

“I don't remember where I said I had to perform any lude acts for you,” you grumbled, slowly withdrawing your hands from your chest and stiffening your jaw in disgust.

“That comes with the vague term of what it means to ‘humiliate’, sweetheart,” he quipped in return. Gesturing a little more firmly, he again placed his eyes behind the snail and ushered you over, “This is what humiliation looks like to me. Knees. Now.”

In lieu of heeding his firm orders, you huffed and looked away from him. Where he would normally have used his devil-fruit to simply force you to do it himself, he refused to do it to you. He wanted you to want this, and do as you're told, completely of your own volition. Victory tastes sweeter with a willing participant, and he needed you to behave according to his will.

“Oh, come on. You're a marine. You're good at following orders,” he pouted at you, “On your knees for me, sweetheart. Behave yourself.” You grumbled out a hissed growl, dropping to your knees and anchoring your chin to the ground in defeat. Lulling your hands down against your thighs, you allowed him to zoom the needy lenses in further to your bare flesh.

“Look up at me?” He suggested as if it was the easiest thing for you to do. You couldn't help the way his honeyed words shot a wave of need between your legs, your whole body tensing while your eyes slowly sought him out. “There you are,” he whispered breathily, adjusting in his seat. “Now crawl. Slowly.”

You knew it was a losing battle, and you no longer desired to put up with his nonsense for more than absolutely necessary. So, being a marine rising in the ranks and steadfast in completing direct orders, you slowly crawled towards Doflamingo while peering up your lashes at him. Doflamingo shuddered in delight, his body reacting tangibly as he relished in your submission to him.

“Between my thighs. Smile for the Den-Den, marine,” he tapped his thigh playfully while unlacing his knees from one another, “Or pout all cute, and be pissed with me. Whatever makes you more comfortable, darling.” You would've bitten him and punched him if not for the ceasefire between his folk and yours with his standing as warlord, but all you could do was continue sneering at him while complying with his demands.

Each time his face changed angles, the snail would follow along with him. The beady eyes felt unnerving as your body reacted to the humiliation of being forced to crawl on your hands and knees towards him. Knowing there was going to be physical evidence of what was to happen next made your skin tingle in disgust, but you chose to ignore the consequences for now and adhere to his bidding.

“Now be a good little marine and use those tiny fingers of yours to open my pants for me,” Doflamingo’s orders caught you off guard, just as his unoccupied hand covered one of your own. Reaching with his hand over yours up his exceptionally long thighs, he cupped your hand over his crotch and gestured for you to pry it open, “Just like that. You can see how big I am, huh?” He chuckled a little, his cock twitching beneath your palm caused you to panic.

“You're repulsive,” you growled at him, knowing better than to take your hand away regardless of how you were feeling about it.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he purred down at you with a low laugh, “Now behave for me, and take out my cock.” Disgust wrote itself on your face as you whined, reaching forward and breaking away the lacy seam of his patterned pants. It took little effort more than popping the lace for his cock to immediately rise above the shroud of its tight barrier.

Reaching for the last amount of his cock beneath his briefs, you forced your eyes to remain as unmoved as stone as you felt how truly big he was in your smaller hands.

“Now what?” you asked him, gripping his cock in a light circle and looking up to his face with an uncertainty warbling in your voice.

“Take off your pants.”

“Doflamingo, I can't fuck you-!” you protest, looking from the snail, to his cock, to his eyes behind his glasses, to his cock once more.

“-Now who said anything about ‘fucking’, hm?” he chuckled at you, bucking gently in your grasp to have your smaller grip pump his shaft, “I know I didn't. I said: ‘take off your pants’. So do it.”

You flinched back at his words, seeing him almost attempt to catch himself back while ordering you. Standing to full stature before the tall blonde, you hooked your thumbs over your pants and undergarments. Inching them down with an uncaring shimmy caused Doflamingo to once again click his tongue at you and gesture towards your thighs.

“Slower, darling,” he whispered. His voice was husky and purring at you like a jaguar playing with their kill. You were thankful at this moment that you couldn't see his eyes for fear something more sinister lurked beneath the lenses. Turning on your heels, you disguised a gulp of shame with a motion to move your pants down your ass slowly. Hearing the snail lense zoom in closer, you closed your eyes and sighed in defeat.

“There you go,” Doflamingo praised you, moaning with his exhale at the time you took to do as he asked, “Good little marine, following your superior’s orders. Be good for your warlord, baby. Turn around and see how hard you're making me.”

Biding by his orders, you turned to face him. Fighting back the urge for your lip to quiver, you kicked your shoes and socks free and stepped out of your pants. Doflamingo, while remaining overall enthusiastic with his commentary and direct in his orders, moved his hands to the side of the lense and wordlessly checked in with you by the extension of his thumb.

Nodding at his gesture, you then follow the trail down his front and gawk at his throbbing cock bobbing needily and freely in the air. Each part of him was hard and aching with need, and you felt your own arousal begin to expose itself by the clench of your thighs and tremor in your abdomen.

“Come on, darling. Be a dear and hold it for me.” He gestured to you, and you felt obliged to follow his orders. Resuming your position, but now bare and exposed, you wrapped both hands around his shaft and measured its diameter with your thumb and forefingers, “It looks so much bigger in your hands, doesn't it, sweetheart? Fuck.” Doflamingo keeled over, the snail lulling down to view his cock with your hands circling the circumference.

“Something wrong?” you utter in surprise, halting your slow drag of his cock in your firm grasp. You checked in with him, searching his eyes for any signs of discomfort, “Didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, I-...” Doflamingo was taken aback. He truly thought he wouldn't be as impacted by your hands on him rendered him to be. His breath hitched, his voicing coming out in a breathy gasp of your name before hanging his head low and reassuring you, “...no. Okay, stroke it a little. Slowly pump back and forward along my shaft for me.”

You kept one of you hand at his base, the other barely gripping the thick cylinder of his shaft in front of you. Doflamingo groaned, “Both hands, marine,” he drew his hand to your unoccupied wrist and placed your hand on his cock to mirror the other already placed upon it. “G-Good job.”

Slowly pumping his cock gifted to freefalling praises like, “Oh, fuck, just like that. Keep going,” pouring from his lips like the sweetest honey to whisper in your ears. One pump at a time, you were slowly making Donquixote Doflamingo’s voice raise in wanton moans captured in the mouthpiece of the Den-Den snail he was holding in his palm.

“You're not going to cum, are you?” you taunted him with a snarl, ignoring the feeling pooling in your stomach and swelling your own arousal, “Don't you dare, Doflamingo.”

“I'll warn you when I'm going to cum, marine,” he chuckled, releasing your hand held in his wrist and holding it up defensively by his head, “Keep going, sweetheart. I am going to let you know soon.”

Seeing his admission of using you for his own benefit, you increased your pressure and vigorous motions of your hands in a manner that had his breath hitch. He but his lip and threw his head back, truly giving into your motions and rolling his hips to meet your every thrust.

“It is my intention to cum on you, kitten,” Doflamingo informed you, huffing and panting as his pleasure begun to swell and spur up his abdomen. His breaths grew erratic as you bobbed and pumped his cock. “I'm going to mark my territory, and claim my victory.”

“You wouldn't dare,” you gasped, hiding your disgust and arousal at the notion with a grimace, continuing to diligently pump his shaft and pay additional attention to his balls and tip the closer his twitches became. Small droplets of precum sprung forth in dewdrops from his slit, prompting you to almost whine in response, choking it back to continue to steel your resolve.

“This is the first and only time I'm going to ask you,” Doflamingo informed you with a heady groan to follow. You noticed his desperation laden in every buck and roll of his hips to meet with your motions.

“Where am I going to cum, marine?” he asked, moving the snail to peer down at you over his rose-tinted glasses, “Because, whether you like it or not, I am going to cum on you. You get to pick: face, chest, stomach, legs. Anywhere you want, baby. I'm going to cover you in it.”

“You're despicable,” you gasp at him with a scowl on your lip and lust in your eyes. Denying the fact that this lewd act was enticing you to a point where your arousal was noticeable was barely worth the effort. You were living for this, regardless for the consequences that were to provide as an encore to your efforts.

“I'm victorious,” he corrected you, “And this is how I'm celebrating.” Thrusting up to meet your strokes, his cock twitched in your hands as more drops softly gathered at the tip of his cock and drooled down his shaft.

“Since you didn't answer,” he panted, gently lulling your name from his lips as he continued to rock against your hands, “Tongue out, baby. Gonna cum on your face.” Reaching forward, he cupped the back of your neck and drew your face towards his cock, “Lick.”

“Dofla-.” Your protests were stifled by the warlord interrupting you.

“-I said ‘lick’, not ‘talk’.” His barked order was almost manic. He drew your face towards his tip as he began to rut his large cock against your firm grip, “Gonna cum. Gonna cum-!”

Lulling your tongue over your lips, you flicked it over his tip and swirled it against his shaft. Your saliva added that last element to hone his impending eruption on point, his cock pulsing in your hand as he shot ropes of salted splashes over your tongue, lips and gave.

“Fucking take it. Take it all, marine,” he groaned, continuing to flood you with his cum at each rut of his hips into your palm and over your tongue. He was so much larger than you, once he began releasing, nothing halted how much he soaked you with his cum. “Oh, hgnhhh-... fuck-! Look so nice all covered in me like this.”

His praise caused you to flutter your eyes shut and focus yourself on behaving perfectly for the Den-Den shell and for the warlord. “Fuck yes, you look so fucking good. Good job, all messy.” Riding his high and choking out the last waves of his viscous lust coating your features.

“Look up at me,” he ordered you. Immediately you floated your eyes open and gazed up at him lustfully through the shroud of your eyelashes. Doflamingo was heaving and panting, relishing in the portraiture he christened you with. “There you are. So pretty like this, baby.” He praised you, his honeyed words shooting straight to your abdomen and igniting your lust.

“Now look at the Den-Den, tell them what you did wrong.”

“I lost a swordfight with one of the Donquixote pirates,” you confessed deadpan into the lense. The soft glimmer of light reflected from Doflamingo’s cum on your skin into the lense.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Doflamingo purred down at you with a hint of pride in his tone, “And who's cum are you covered in?” You peered past the snail shell and burned your cum-soaked vision down the barrel of the snail lense.

“Donquixote Doflamingo’s.”

“Good marine,” he chuckled down darkly. He reached down and began softly thumbing at the sticky cum littering your lips and cheeks, “Give me a little smile for the Den-Den.” His tone caused your prior pride in making him cum vanquish immediately, your scowl once again returning to your face as he spoke, “Or keep pouting, if that's your prerogative.”

Giving the snail a soft break from your scowl, you elected to smile at it. At doing such, Doflamingo felt his breath hitch at the vision gifted to him: a marine he adored covered in cum over their face while smiling in appreciation.

Doflamingo was absolutely going to use this footage to madturbate to in private. If not simply the entire visage of you stripping bare and crawling to him, just your smile while coated in a glaze of his own release.

Clicking off the snail, he placed it to try the side and gently tapped the wooden surface twice while gesturing down to you.

“Up on the desk, marine,” Doflamingo nodded, again tapping in solidarity to his verbal order, “I'm not some barbarian that's going to cum on you and dismiss you immediately thereafter.”

Shooting him a puzzled expression, you slowly drew yourself towards the desk. Hoisting yourself backwards onto it, you gripped the desk and gazed up at him with curiosity. To your mind, you felt that was enough humiliation to sate a regular person.

Donquixote Doflamingo, however, was not a regular person.

“I'm going to make you cum with my cum still dripping from your face,” He chuckled down at you, turning the snail shell towards your cum-soaked body and flicking the switch back on to the priorly abused little beast, “Then I'll clean you up and send you off.”

“What-?” you protested, feeling small as he pressed his large hands over your abdomen and demonstrating how far the span of his fingers lingered on your stomach.

“You heard me, my little marine,” he coaxed out of you, leaning forward and beginning to simulate your body with fingers of his right hand while holding you steady with his left, “And smile for the Den-Den when I make you cum, little one.”

You slowly coaxed your head to gaze into the face of the Den-Den snail, apologising to the poor critter the longer Doflamingo toyed with you. Just as you made to protest his suggestion, his tongue licked a clean stripe over your sensitive crotch and sneered possessively at you.

“I'm gonna have your ecstasy printed and framed on my desk,” he admitted, pinning you completely in his grip and drawing your hips over his shoulders.

“Say ‘cheese’.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶Happy Birthday to Me 🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[hazeldragonblossoms]

aita for trying to summon a god to resurrect my wife?

i (142m) recently lost my wife (139f) to terminal illness. we were married for nearly 127 years, and were survivors of a disaster that destroyed our home city and killed nearly everyone in it. she was my best friend, the love of my life, and the light of my world. i’ve spent months trying to move on, but the pain of losing her has only grown stronger since her death, with my grief eventually leading me to quit my job and travel in the hopes of finding something else to live for. i will be upfront in admitting that, in the process of quitting, i blew up the school i worked at (no one was hurt), almost killed my assistant (he’s fine), and released a bunch of monsters from the abandoned gated community i had contained them in a few decades prior (long story).

anyway, during my travels i came across a relic that contained immense necromantic power, but i quickly realized that i would be unable to utilize it for my purposes on my own, as my wife had been dead for several months by that time and was well past the point of resurrection by conventional means. long story short, i decided to harness the power of the same god that caused the disaster that destroyed my and my wife’s former home.

as it turns out, my former boss (????m) picked up a kid (13x) off the street around the same time this was happening, and tasked my brother (also 142m, we’re twins) with teaching them magic. i won’t bore you with the details, but this thirteen year old now keeps following me around and fucking up my plans to reunite with my true love, which i’m frankly tired of.

(side note: this kid also won a fighting competition that hasn’t been won by someone from our school since i attended. i need to remind you, they are thirteen. i’m not certain they’d ever used magic before my boss picked them up, so i have no idea how this possibly could have happened, or when they had the time to even attend the fights since they’ve seemingly dedicated the majority of their time to fucking me over for no good reason.)

my ex-boss seems to think that summoning this being is a “bad idea” and could “destroy the world,” but 1. i’m doing it in my already ruined hometown and 2. i think that the world is a small price to pay to have my wife back. it’s not like it’s worth much without her in it, anyway.

edit: shut up about the fucking giant tree it’s an unrelated current event. you can’t prove that i actually did anything to him, and it’s rude to accuse people baselessly

[pupyuj]

→ “magic words.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— what was supposed to be a simple tutoring session turns into something more when the most popular student in the campus, jang wonyoung, opts to teach you a completely different lesson...

word count: 4.7k.

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!virgin!reader.

content warnings: smut, praise kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, semi-exhibitionism, fingering, begging.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: this one has some sort of a plot so it takes a while to get to the smut part,, hope this one was okay! (jang wonyoung pls marry me.)

next: your colorful secrets.

jang wonyoung was late.

you didn’t know why you were even disappointed. what did you expect from someone with her social status? rich, popular, and a bit of a snob… which was why it was a surprise when you managed to convince her to help you study for an english project. you really didn’t know how you did it. when your professor had told you that being aided by someone who was near fluent in the language could help, the only person that came to mind was wonyoung. she studied abroad once, has the top grades in class, and still looked somewhat more approachable than aeri uchinaga (the other student that could’ve helped you).

or maybe it was just your big dumb crush on the campus princess that willed you to talk to her on that miraculous day, but that’s completely unrelated to your current dilemma.

after five more minutes of waiting, you started feel disheartened. what if she was just playing a joke on you? it’s not like wonyoung was an angel; you’ve heard horror stories about some of the fucked up shit she has done in her time in the campus and even before that. so there was definitely a possibility that she tricked you into believing that she was truly into the idea of spending time with who was essentially a nobody, like you.

ten minutes passed, now you were just really, really sad. but your pride was too big, you didn’t want to walk out of that room looking heartbroken. what if wonyoung and her douchebag friends were waiting on the other side to laugh at you? you shuddered at the idea. you already face so much humiliation and scrutiny from being different than everyone else in this school when really they should be all like you: hardworking, passionate, and actually try to give a fuck about their studies instead of just partying every weekend.

twenty minutes later, well — you were nearly passed out. you rested your head on your arms, blinking sleepily at the lights that you dimmed slightly earlier. you decided that you were going to take a short nap, and then you’ll get to work on your own. screw wonyoung and her joke promises. you were hoping that the rumors weren’t true, that people just made them up because they were jealous of her and her money, her brains, and that pretty little face and those beauty marks and those unnecessarily attractive slender fingers. but she really is just like everyone else.

needless to say, you fell asleep. and you don’t exactly know for how long, because when you were shaken awake by someone, your head was seemingly in another dimension. you lifted your head from your arms and yawned softly, earning a laugh from whoever it was that woke you up. you rubbed your eyes, blinked, and tried to identify the person standing by the side of your desk and— oh, shit.

“w-wonyoung?” you asked with your eyes wide, staring at the tall, gorgeous girl clad in expensive attire that smiled down at you. were you dreaming about her again?

“the one and only,” jang wonyoung takes off her jacket and folds it neatly, putting it on one of the unoccupied seats across the table. “i know i’m super late. i had to find a real reason to come here other than, you know, just for shits and giggles. you should thank gaeul-sunbae for talking some sense into me.” oh. she couldn’t have said that in a nicer way?

“okay…” you murmured, nervously picking on the lint on your clothes for no reason.

wonyoung settles herself beside you, sipping on a cup of iced coffee. she slides a full cup to your side of the table, “that should wake you up.”

“you didn’t have to get me one…” you replied timidly but accepting the cup nonetheless.

“oh, i didn’t. gaeul-sunbae got that for you and told me to give it to you because apparently, it was the least i could do for making you wait for over an hour. huh,” wonyoung puts down her cup, leaned back on her chair, and looked at you, smirking. you tried your hardest not to blush at the way her eyes completely raked over your figure. you shifted uncomfortably on your seat, suddenly finding your skirt too short or your uniform too tight. “maybe she has a crush on you. ha! well, that’s quite a jump. from that hot soccer captain in that other university, ahn yujin-ssi, to you.” wonyoung giggles.

god, really? you held back the urge to groan, or roll your eyes, and just smiled awkwardly at her. you were seriously regretting having that dumb crush on her. she was pretty, but her mouth and the things that come out of it made it hard to truly like her.

“i doubt that…” you said, picking up your pen and opening up a novel. the very same novel you had a hard time understanding, and the very same novel that you hoped wonyoung would help you understand but that didn’t seem likely now. seeing that all she wants to do is insult you.

wonyoung doesn’t say anything else, merely fishing out her phone from her bag and silently scrolling up, completely forgetting the reason she was here in the first place. you sighed, tired eyes skimming through the words in your novel. every single word you read just went over your head, and you really hoped wonyoung would notice how helpless you looked but she was… well, she was taking photos of herself. you took your eyes off your novel to do nothing but stare at her. truthfully, you would also drop everything to take photos of yourself if you were wonyoung because she did look particularly good in this day.

“why do you even need me? you’re supposed to be super smart. aren’t you on scholarship at this school?” wonyoung suddenly asked while still posing. you flinched, immediately turning back on your novel in hopes that wonyoung wouldn’t know that you have been staring this entire time. 

(she did. but whatever. everybody stares at her.)

“t-that’s exactly why i need you, though,” you said. wonyoung chuckles. you blushed at what your words may have implied. “i want to keep that scholarship, but i-i’m not that very good at english and you’re… you’re great so i thought you could help…”

wonyoung closes her phone and puts it down, “well, aren’t you adorable. i kinda get why gaeul-sunbae is obsessed with you. don’t tell her i said that.” were you some kind of inside joke between her and gaeul or something? you doubted that the popular senior actually gave a damn about you, so maybe wonyoung was just pulling words out of her perfectly fine ass.

you really needed to stop talking like that.

“don’t start crying now. i’ll help.” wonyoung brings her chair closer to yours. maybe a bit too close for your liking, but her perfume calmed your senses so you appreciated the lack of respectable distance nonetheless. she takes your novel from your hands and without a word, she examines it. the front cover, the back, the first few pages, and the chapter you were reading. you watched intently as she did her work, and you couldn’t hold back squirming in your seat because of course jang wonyoung looks fucking hot when she starts taking things seriously.

her eyes flicker back onto yours and she catches you staring. you didn’t even make an effort to look away. it was too late anyway. wonyoung wordlessly stared back at you, eyes completely devoid of emotion so you couldn’t tell whether she was annoyed of you for staring or not.

“this isn’t what we’re studying in class.” wonyoung said.

“n-no. i’m reading it for myself. i want to write a thesis on it.”

“a what? so, you’re saying you’re doing this for fun? you have that much time?” wonyoung looks at you in disbelief. she puts down your book, almost offended at this reveal.

“that’s how i study. if i can’t prove to myself that i understand whatever i’m doing then i pretty much failed at that subject.” you confessed.

wonyoung groans, throwing her head back. you stared shamelessly at the curve of her neck, and had this sudden urge to kiss her. what the fuck. “i thought you were going to write a dissertation with how you made this whole thing sound so urgent yesterday. turns out it’s just a cute little project, and for yourself! you’re wasting my time, you know.” the tall girl said.

again, you felt sad. you grabbed the book from her side of the table and pouted as you looked at the cover, “w-well, you’re free to leave if that’s what you think…”

“you won’t cry?” wonyoung asked. you took note of the teasing evident in her voice and rolled your eyes.

“why would i—”

you looked at her and found your words getting stuck to your throat. it was weird, because wonyoung was literally just sitting there and yet she looked so… there's really no other way to put it in your lovesick little head. wonyoung looked regal. arms crossed, sly smile, eyes shining with mischief, and one long leg crossed over the other, hiking up her skirt just a little. you immediately looked away, but you were too late. wonyoung knew exactly where you were looking at.

“oh, i see,” wonyoung giggles and leaned forward, propping her arm up on the table and putting her chin on her palm. you avoided her stare, but you couldn't hide your red ears. “gaeul-sunbae’s gonna be really disappointed to hear about this.”

“please, stop with that. gaeul-sunbaenim is not interested in me.” you say in an attempt to divert her attention.

well, much to your dismay, wonyoung wouldn’t let up just like that. she completely disregards what you were saying. “i guess you’re kinda cute. in an almost pitiful way.” she says, eyes examining your features way too intently. “intelligent, decent, and you don’t dress that bad…” the tall girl continues on, taking note of the accessories you have on your wrists, neck, and hair.

you really didn’t know if she expected you to thank her.

“i’d say innocent too, but that's not all true, is it?” wonyoung moves closer, her perfume once again wafting into your nose and nearly intoxicating you. she places a pretty hand on your thigh, smirking at the way you flinched and hid behind your book. “since i’ve lost interest in whatever you actually want to do, how about we do something that’s actually worth my time?” she says, prying your book off of your hands and putting it on the table.

“i-i can’t skip classes. i was serious when i told you that i want to keep my scholarship—”

“don’t worry. you won’t be stepping a foot outside of your beloved school for this activity.”

see, there were a lot of things that you didn’t believe were true in the world. one of them being your brother allegedly not being free earlier this morning to give you a ride to school because he had something important to do, when you knew he just wanted to play video games until he had to leave for his classes. and now, you have something you can add on the list: jang wonyoung kissing you.

you were waiting to be woken up again, convinced that this was all just a very detailed and prolonged dream. but wonyoung bites your lower lip and nothing happens. other than you moaning softly, obviously.

“i knew you’d like this.” wonyoung mutters before grabbing you by your necktie and pulling you closer. her tongue tasted like coffee, mint, and peaches, and her lips were so, so soft. you were on cloud nine; how many people can say their totally unattainable crush kissed them first?

still, despite liking wonyoung’s lips and the warm feeling on your chest, you couldn’t help but gasp and move away once her hand squeezed your breast.

“what?” wonyoung asked, a bit annoyed.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“...trying to fuck you? i don’t understand what was so misleading about my intent there.” wonyoung says, looking at you like you were the crazy one.

“how is sex so casual to you and your friends…?” you mumbled. you said all that but the thought of wonyoung touching you like that made you feel certain things in your lower region that you really did not want to know about. or maybe you did, but you were just terrified.

wonyoung, utterly confused, quirked up an eyebrow. “why wouldn’t it be to you? wait,” the tall girl takes another second to look at your bright red cheeks, and the way you squeezed your thighs together presumably to calm that feeling in your core. and then she laughs. “of fucking course, you’re a virgin.”

having your crush find out that you haven’t been touched all your life and laugh at your face about it was not in your bingo card.

“that’s putting it lightly… you’re even my first kiss.” you admitted. you absentmindedly touched your lips with your fingers, smiling as you remembered the way wonyoung’s felt when she had been kissing you.

the tall girl stares at you, there was a softer look in her eyes that made you melt. “ugh, you really are fucking cute. you’re making me feel really bad about poking fun at you earlier.” (and that was definitely new. jang wonyoung never feels bad.)

you shrugged, simply accepting that that was her personality, as brutally honest as she was. you started packing up your things half-heartedly after minutes of silence. a part of you was mad at yourself for cutting off that kiss earlier. maybe you would still be kissing wonyoung right now if you hadn’t stopped her, or maybe you’d be doing something more.

“where are you going?” wonyoung asked, looking up at you since you were now standing.

you pulled at your uniform, “y-you said this was a waste of your time so… i think i’ll just study on my own. t-thank you, though. for the coffee and… that other thing.”

just as you made a step towards the door, wonyoung stands up and catches your wrist in a tight grip. “you’re killing me, (y/n).” wonyoung muttered. she pulls you close, which causes you to drop your bag to the ground and nearly crash into her.

“because you’ve somehow managed to make me feel soft inside, you’re getting laid.”

“i’m getting what—”

“i’m gonna fuck you, (y/n). seriously, what era are you from?”

and with that, wonyoung kisses you again. she wasn’t as gentle as before. her hands were on your hair, tugging and pulling. you didn’t know where to put your hands exactly, but wonyoung noticed this somehow took one of your hands with her own and placed it on her hip. you tried to keep up with her as much as you could, not at all aware of how messy you really were with the way you kissed.

unsurprisingly, wonyoung was annoyed at this and pulled away, “this isn’t a slobbering competition. can you calm down?” she says.

“i can’t. i really like you—”

“fuck. you’re pathetic.” she kisses you again, and you really didn’t know if you should have felt insulted or flattered. a part of you wanted to see how far you could go, this was a once in a lifetime kind of thing after all, so this time around you actually tried kissing her better. wonyoung moves, she’s got your lower back pressed against the desk and her hands on either side of you while you hold her face. she lets you control the kiss, smiling slightly since she found you so, so endearing.

wonyoung sneaks a leg in between your thighs and presses her knee against your buzzing core, making you moan into her mouth. she takes off your school-issued blazer and throws it mindlessly in some unknown corner, then she takes your necktie and slowly tugs you towards the small couch in the room, all while keeping her lips on yours. she unfortunately breaks the kiss and sat down on the soft cushion, leaving you standing in front of her, confused and out of breath.

wonyoung leans back on the couch, smirking, “come on, baby. give me a show.”

you didn’t know what she meant, and you were too afraid of turning her off by asking. but by the way she licked her lips as her eyes scanned you up and down, you just did the next best thing you could’ve thought of doing. you pulled off your necktie and you must’ve done something right because wonyoung’s smirk only widened, urging you to continue on undressing yourself. next, you started unbuttoning your white shirt, revealing your silky cream-colored bra. and finally, you pulled off your panties, just so you wouldn’t have a hard time doing it later.

wonyoung was more of an open book than you expected because it was quite easy to tell that she really like what she was seeing.

patting her lap, wonyoung beckons you over, “sit.” she said. you let your shirt fall to the floor and did as you were told, settling yourself on the taller girl’s lap. you shuddered at the feeling of her thigh against your bare cunt, and fought the urge to ride her.

“it’s always the quiet and nerdy girls like you, hm? hiding all of this behind a book and some straight A’s…” wonyoung’s pretty hands explore your body; from your back, your chest, your stomach, and to your thighs. she enjoyed the way you shivered and slightly moved yourself, desperate for some friction in that area. she plants a small kiss on your collarbone before smiling up at you and attacking your neck. she sneaks a hand underneath your skirt and palms your dripping pussy, her long fingers parting your folds and her thumb just barely brushing your clit.

your soft moans filled the air as wonyoung marks you up. she favored your chest, leaving hickies all over it. she leans back, staring at her work proudly. you took her face in your hands, tilting her head up slightly and then putting your lips on hers. you could feel her smiling as she kissed you back. she found your enthusiasm entertaining, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to do all the work. you boldly pushed your tongue past her parted lips, bravely exploring her mouth. your heart starts beating erratically upon hearing wonyoung’s muffled moans. her voice was so pretty.

suddenly, wonyoung inserts a finger knuckle deep inside you, making you gasp into her mouth and pull away from her lips. the tall girl laughed, “that caught you off guard?” as if she wasn’t looking directly at your widened eyes and gaping mouth. wonyoung pulls her single finger out slowly and pushes it back in, watching as your face contorted from the tiniest bit of pain you were feeling.

“one more?” she asks, but she doesn’t give you a chance to reply and goes ahead and inserts a second finger, making you whine and hug her. wonyoung giggles against your chest as she quickens her pace, relishing in the feeling of her fingers smoothly going in and out of you. the pain was quick to go away, and soon enough you only felt pleasure.

“you’re so tight, baby,” wonyoung wraps her free arm around your waist to keep you steady. she curls her fingers inside you and you moan loudly in her ear. “i’m glad i got to you first. i guarantee you nobody else can fuck a pretty little thing like you as good as i can.”

wonyoung looks up, staring at your features while you try to keep yourself as quiet as you can. the walls weren’t soundproof after all, and the librarian could very well just open the door and invite herself in to check on the students occupying the room. upon realizing this, you threw a quick glance at the door, worried out of your mind. wonyoung notices and gives you a kiss on the cheek to grab your attention, and she was successful.

“nobody will care. plus, you’re with me. you’ll be fine,” she said. she holds onto your waist tighter as she moves her fingers even faster. you clutched onto her shirt, biting your lip but unsuccessfully holding your moans back. “be as loud as you want, baby. let this whole school know who’s fucking you.”

wonyoung couldn’t even begin to tell you how turned on she was right now. you were falling apart before her eyes, the prim and proper (y/n) (l/n) being reduced to this… and knowing that it was all for her… wonyoung doesn’t know if she could hold herself back from completely ruining you on the spot.

“mmhn… ahh— mommy..! mommyy…”

well, shit.

wonyoung was pleasantly surprised. she chuckles, “what? say that again, love.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “it… it just—fuck—it just slipped out.. i’m sorry…”

wonyoung presses her thumb on your clit and rubs it roughly, “say it.” you whined loudly. that felt too good.

blinded by pleasure, you fulfill wonyoung’s wish. “m-mommy… mommy, ruin me, please…!” you started moving your hips, meeting wonyoung’s thrusts and somehow it made everything feel better by about a hundred percent.

wonyoung was considerably happy. “good girl. can you take one more?” again, she asks but she doesn’t wait for you to answer. now three of her long fingers were inside you, just completely pounding into you mercilessly. the tall girl watched as you basically fucked yourself into her hand. shit, she could cum by the sight of you alone. you were even more beautiful when you were a mess… wonyoung has to fuck you more after this.

“this is a better look for you… none of that honor student bullshit. don’t you like being fucked stupid like this?” wonyoung says, once again curling her fingers and smirking as you throw your head back in pleasure.

you managed to choke out an answer. “yes, mommy… i do, i do…”

never in your life did you ever expect to be calling your crush, the untouchable jang wonyoung no less, such a nickname and even more so, getting fucked by her in a semi-public setting! you were sure to get weird looks from people who might be outside, and the news will spread like wildfire of course but you didn’t care for any of that. not right now, at least. because why else would you think of anything but the girl who was taking you to the stars?

“feels good, yeah? want more, baby?” wonyoung was saying. she herself was getting her panties soaked the faster you were riding her fingers, but she was going to have to take care of her own problem later. she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, after all.

“mmhn.. more…”

wonyoung clicks her tongue, “magic words.” she brings her hand down to your ass, making you whine.

you immediately comply — you were chasing after something that was unknown to you, but you desperately wanted it. and you knew only wonyoung can help you get there. “p-please, mommy… i want more…” you said, looking directly into wonyoung’s eyes and watching as her pink and plump pillowy-soft lips spread into a satisfied smile.

“mhm. you learn quickly, don’t you? what a good girl.”

fucking hell. did everything that came out of her mouth have to sound so hot?

as promised, wonyoung gives you ‘more’. she shifts herself slightly up on her seat, holds your waist in a death grip and whispers, “put your arms around me.” then, she pulls her long fingers out almost all the way before plunging their full length back inside you, deeper than it has ever gone. the sound that left your mouth loud, dirty, and wonyoung could hear the pain beneath all pleasure. 

she repeats her action, and you finally understood why she told you to hold onto her because holy fuck you were going to fall off her lap. you wrapped your arms around wonyoung’s neck and held her close, screaming into her ear every time she brushes past your sweet spot.

“w-wony.. wonyoung— mommy..! i feel weird… i feel weird, i feel weird…!!”

“shh, shh, it’s okay. it’s supposed to feel like that,” wonyoung starts kissing up your neck again, stopping directly under your jawline and leaving another hickey there. “you’re doing so good, baby. we’re almost done. just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?” she pats your ass, gently rubbing on it to ease the sting that her slap left earlier.

you shook your head, “i c-can’t… stop, stop… please..!” you were feeling too many things at once. you wanted whatever this was all leading up to but it was overwhelming. you wanted it to be over but you wanted to prove something to wonyoung, as if ‘holding on’ for longer like she asked would get you a medal from her or something.

“okay, okay… let go, then. it’s okay…”

wonyoung hits a spot and unexpectedly, the pressure in your stomach tightens and breaks in a second. your entire body stiffened as you came undone on wonyoung’s hand with a long, loud moan mixed with a sob. wonyoung shushes you gently, using her free hand to caress your back. she pulls out her other hand from your cunt, it was completely drenched with your juices.

you leaned back after getting a hold of yourself, albeit only a little, and watched as wonyoung licked her fingers. fuck. what you would give to engrave that moment in your mind.

“feeling alright?” wonyoung asked, brushing your damp hair away from your face with her dry hand. you looked exhausted and fucked out. it was hot. wonyoung’s core was throbbing like crazy. she wanted to get off to you so bad. you nodded weakly at her question, even though you didn’t look and feel ‘okay’. you were feeling a lot of fucking things, that’s what.

“t-thank you…” you said suddenly.

wonyoung tilts her head to the side, “for what?” seriously, you were so cute. with your flushed cheeks, eyes glistening with tears, and hair a big mess.

“...you know what for.” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. wonyoung laughs—music to your ears—and pulls you close by your waist, hugging you and kissing your bare shoulder.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying anything for god knows how long. you would ocassionally lift your head and wonyoung would kiss you, then softly asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything. sometimes, she just looked at you, tugging at your heartstrings and making you wonder just what she was thinking. (‘how come i have never seen you before?’)

eventually, however, it was time for both of you to leave as you had some actual studying to do and wonyoung, well, she has a party to attend. typical.

“hey, i’m giving you my number.” wonyoung says when you finally managed to make yourself look tidy and somewhat presentable. you knew that hickies were all over your neck, but you were too tired to lose your head over them.

“uh, why?” you asked, reluctantly pulling out your phone but not handing it over just yet.

“oh, no reason. i give my number away for free. it’s a thing i do.” wonyoung replies in an exaggerated tone. she snatches your phone from your hands, rolling her eyes at your apparently ridiculous question. her actions reminded you that yes, wonyoung will always be a snob through and through. even after giving you the best fuck of your life.

“ha ha.” you laughed sarcastically. you barely caught your phone when wonyoung mindlessly dropped it on your hands in retaliation. you weren’t going to lie though, having your crush put her number on your phone was a dream come true. you looked at your screen, ready to send wonyoung a quick message so she can save your number when you noticed the name she gave herself.

mommy💘

before you could say anything, wonyoung puts a single finger on your lips and winks, “call me when you need ‘help’ again, baby.”

[strawbeelemonade]

Imagine: Being Miles Morales’ best friend but also your a bit insane

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

🕷- Miles used to be so scared of you

🕷 - Even before you started a mutual friendship you sorta just…. kept appearing.

🕷 - He wasn’t sure when he became desensitised to you. but he likes to think his new double life of being a crime fighting upstart has given him a bit of a tolorence.

🕷 - Miles will now watch you eat an apple from the top down, core, stem and all, and literally not say anything.

🕷 - Your so consistently insane in such a harmless way, it’s kinda nice.

🕷 - He wishes you would stop picking up wild animals, though.

🕷 - Seriously stop. at least one of them will have a fatal disease.

🕷 - You keep venturing into the underground subway to play with the New York rats. Nothing bad has happened yet but that doesn’t mean nothing will.

🕷 - Don’t get me wrong. Miles isn’t overprotective or anything, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still worry. Your one of his closest friends.

🕷 - He’s not sure what he’d do without you.

🕷 - So please take the rat out of your jacket pocket. Please.

🕷 - Oh but it’s so cute!!

🕷 - You are Cinderella actually.

🕷 - Miles stumbles across you as his spider-sona surprisingly often.

🕷 - Not always when your doing something illegal, so he kinda forms this double friendship with you.

🕷 - It’s hard because he forgets your not supposed to know who he is!!

🕷 - He keeps forgetting to deepen his voice and act macho. You just make him relax so easily.

🕷 - I like to think His powers are particularly in tune with body language, even if he doesn’t mean or want to. And it can become so incredibly exhausting. all the extra information and interference is unrelenting unless he’s completely alone or has his headphones on.

🕷 - But you’re different. You let Everything rest on the surface. You say what you think, and miles found after a couple of months of knowing you that you’re actually more deep thinking then you like to let anyone realise.

🕷 - Your completely willing to sit in total silence with him. It’s so relaxing.

🕷 - The closer you both get the more he starts to see that you are actually a total sweetheart.

🕷 - You remember little things about him, your willing to go through great lengths for him. He knows that no matter where the both of you are or what your doing, you are ready to drop anything and everything to come to him if he needs you.

🕷 - He doesn’t demand it from you, but…

🕷 - You show up outside his dorm window at 3am all on your own ok?!

🕷 - He just mentioned he was having trouble sleeping!!! It’s not his fault!!! … but he’s not complaining either.

🕷 - So yeah, you put him at ease.

🕷 - Which is why it comes to no one’s surprise except miles when you bust him within the first two weeks.

🕷 - It scared the shit out of him. The next time you saw him as spider man you were like “Yo, Miles”.

🕷 - Y/N PLEASE.

🕷 - He asks you how you found him out, And you laugh and claim his mask made him look like he’s bad at Spanish. He socks you in the shoulder and you laugh harder.

🕷 - He then timidly asks if you’ve said anything to anyone.

🕷 - You tell him you don’t have deep enough conversations with anyone else TO tell.

🕷 - He understands what your trying to say.

🕷 - It’s actually a lovely little moment.

🕷 - As Spider-Man, he’s gotten to know an even crazier side to you. The fact that that was possible scared him a bit.

🕷 - Miles always wondered what you would get up to when he wasn’t around. You would disappear for hours, even days at a time. But you’d always come back.

🕷 - You were like an outdoor cat lmao.

🕷 - Turns out your a bit of an adrenaline junky.

🕷 - “Y/n this is a 7 story building and there’s no stairs how are you up here.”

🕷 - You liked feeding the pigeons… which was… yeah. Ok, fine.

🕷 - Miles wasn’t sure how his parents would react to you. He wasn’t ASHAMED but… Was he worried? Definetely.

🕷 - His dad is a COP.

🕷 - When He gets home from a couple hours of patrolling New York after school he has a heart attack when he sees you sitting on the couch nursing a drink while chatting to his mom.

🕷 - Your not fake, your still you. but you make a conscious decision not to pull out the rat in your pocket until you both head to his room to hang out.

🕷 - He’s much more emotional then he likes to make himself out to be. He’s still trying to figure himself out, He’s still only 14 after all.

🕷 - So hearing you drop deep emotional wisdom at 2 in the morning is a fucking EXPERIENCE.

🕷 - The deep conversations you have (and, now that he’s thinking about it the meaningless ones as well) feel like precious moments. They leave a lasting affect on him, your presence makes him feel safe.

🕷 - He’s not sure how to say all that out loud though.

🕷 - He doesn’t have to. you already know.

🕷 - His parents are happy to know that he’s made you as a friend. No matter how much or little they really know about you, anyone with eyes and two working ears can tell that your a good kid.

🕷 - You probably end up in the hospital a lot.

🕷 - Like a lot a lot. You are in so many wrong places at so many wrong times…

🕷 - An arm in a cast is considered a small case when it comes to you.

🕷 - Miles wonders how your still even alive this point!

🕷 - foreshadowing

🕷 - After you become more acquainted with miles’ family, you start getting visits from them!

🕷 - Especially If you don’t have any stable adult figures in your life.

🕷 - You get in a lot of accidents and fights. And it starts getting worrying. You don’t go looking for any trouble but you don’t let the criminal population of New York stop you from venturing out at night, either.

🕷 - In the waiting room Your all smiles and laughs. Nothing fazes you it seems, even under extreme amounts of pain. so it makes them relax a bit.

🕷 - But they are MUCH more willing to let you practically walk in and out of their house whenever you need a Homebase to fall back on.

🕷 - Mr. Davis does NOT enjoy getting called out late at night over a complaint of a homeless person loitering on a bench and it’s literally just you.

🕷 - What are you doing out here young lady/man/ster.

🕷 - Sorry sir I missed my bus

🕷 - But why were you sleeping outside!

🕷 - Eepy.

🕷 - Let them help you please you don’t have to do things on your own.

🕷 - You’ve only gotten lucky enough to be attacked a handful of times.

🕷 - But when the opportunity arises you are so ready.

🕷 - Remember how I said you were crazy in a harmless way? Forget I said that.

🕷 - Miles has literally watched you rip an old (albeit loose) stop sign out of the ground and beat a mugger over the head with it.

🕷 - He was not ready.

🕷 - You don’t even have any powers that he knows of. No super strength or healing. No heightened senses to protect you.

🕷 - Miles is in awe of you sometimes.

🕷 - he’s saved you from trouble a

Handful of times.

🕷 - you’ve literally got Spiderman looking out for you.

🕷 - If anything happens to you

He will freak the hell out.

🕷 - you might end up being room

-mates at his new school

🕷 - No matter how low he’s feeling he knows that you’ll find a way to make him smile.

🕷 - You find the craziest things to do, there’s no where you’re not willing to venture and there’s nothing your not willing to play with.

🕷 - Unfortunately Miles suffers from the terrible ailment of being a teenager 💔 (and also occasionally having terrible bouts of anxiety)

🕷 - often times he just feels so painfully uncool. He catches himself asking if he’s really cut out for this life. Not just about being the next Spider-Man, but also in the the-American-dream-is-not-real-and-I-don’t-have-a-future kind of way. He worries if he’s failing underneath the weight of his burdens. That he’s a loser.

🕷 - But you don’t let him feel that way when your around.

🕷 - You make him feel like he’s cool. You make him feel like he’s funny. like he’s the most interesting person in the world, your so unshakably and enthusiastically invested in him and his successes!

🕷 - You celebrate with him when he wins small fights. When he saves people. When he gets higher grades on exams.

🕷 - He doesn’t feel insecure standing next to you, even when your personality is as chaotic as it is.

🕷 - Miles isn’t sure sure how he got so lucky to have met you. He doesn’t realise you feel the same about him.

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_��

[lesservillain]

alpha!best friend!eddie munson x omega!reader

cw: smut, omegaverse and all that goes with it, unprotected piv an: a rewrite of a previous fic that i had once upon a time ago

The summer heat in Hawkins was unrelenting. Even though it said it was only in the 70’s, you and Eddie were both on the verge of a heat stroke in the tin box trailer that you were hiding in. The window unit was blowing cold air directly on you at full blast, but it still felt like you could melt at any moment.

“I’m headed out,” Wayne yells from the living room. “Don’t run up the power bill with that A/C unit in there!”

The two of you groan at the prospect of having to turn the air off, not wanting to even entertain the idea of having to deal with any more heat. Wayne told the two of you to stay in Eddie’s room because he’s convinced the two of you were getting sick. Apparently to Wayne is was a nice day with a cool breeze. Eddie told him he just sounds like the old people who want to move to Florida.

“Fuuuuuck this,” Eddie whines, standing up from the bed. “Now that he’s gone, I’m gonna go take an ice cold shower. At least he wont complain about using all the hot water.”

“Save some for me,” you say as Eddie rounds the bed. He gives you a quick “you got it” before disappearing into the hallway.

Once you hear the click of the bathroom door, you wait a moment before ripping your top off. You stand directly in front of the unit, reveling in the way the cool air directly hits your skin. Maybe you were getting sick, but you’d never felt like this before even with the flu. You just hoped this fever would break soon.

As you stood there listening to the sound of the shower turning on the next room over, you get a sudden urge that takes over your whole body. With Eddie not in the room, you were becoming very aware that you couldn’t smell him anymore. It was driving you nuts to not be close to him. 

You look around you at all the clothes scattered around his floor and it felt like an instinct kicked in that was even greater than your want to be in front of cold air. Picking up the pieces on the floor, you begin to pile them on top of his bed on the side closest to the window. You were a little disappointed in your small pile until you spotted his slightly cracked closet door. 

Pushing it open, you found the jackpot that is Eddie’s dirty clothes pile at the bottom of it. You grab as much of it as you can in one huge armful and are immediately overwhelmed with his intoxicating scent. Eddie had to have changed his soap or his cologne or something to a smell that was the most amazing thing you’d ever smelled in your life.

But it was almost too much. You felt your legs starting to give from under you the more you took in his smell. The heat in your body felt like it was reaching a peak point. 

Then, without warning, you felt a flood of fluid begin to leak from between your legs. It soaked your panties and began to run down your legs with how much was coming from you. You would probably be embarrassed if you weren’t on the verge of doubling over in pain. An unholy ache hit you like a tonne of bricks causing you to fall forward onto Eddie’s bed. The smell of the clothes that your face was now buried in seemed to help a little with the pain, but it wasn’t enough to ease it completely.

A sudden need for Eddie had you calling out his name. You didn’t know if he would even be able to help, but you knew you needed him. You heard a commotion from the bathroom and the door bursts open to the bedroom. Eddie stands there, wide eyed, dripping with water and wearing nothing but a towel. The sight of him alone only made your need for him grow. 

As he was about to speak, his hand suddenly comes to his mouth and he collapses against the door frame. But even as this happens he still doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You reach out a hand towards him and he does his best to stand upright again, making his way across the room to you.

“What--what happened?” He says, struggling to get his words out.

“I don’t know…I think that I might be--”

As soon as he got close to you, you were smacked with his scent so hard that another gush of fluid erupts from between your legs. You needed to be near him. Closer than you are now.

Pushing yourself off from the bed, you watch as Eddie eyes grow as wide as saucers, taking in your topless form. You crawl across the bed to get to where he stands, hand outstretched to grab onto him. But you didn’t get the chance.

Eddie’s hands grab onto your arms, lifting your up so that you were on your knees on the bed. Teetering the edge, you fall into him and make skin to skin contact with his bare, tattooed chest. Every inch of connection sent little waves of relief through you that traveled straight to where you were aching in your core. You press your face into his neck, rubbing into him and basking in his scent. 

Eddie says your name in a breathless whisper, and you look up at him with lidded eyes. But as you move, you feel something digging into your stomach. Looking down you find that Eddie is making a very prominent tent in his towel, which was barely still hanging on at this point. 

When your eyes meet his, you see an almost feral look in them that has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. There’s an unspoken communication between you as you stare into each other’s eyes. It only lasts a few seconds, and you swear you here the sounds of a bell before Eddie’s hands are gripping either side of your face, his lips crashing into yours with a fiery passion.

Euphoria washed over you as the two of you embraced, kissing with a fierceness that rivaled two animals fighting for dominance. But you eventually caved, letting him lean you back against his bed so that he could put his whole weight on your body. It would normally feel like too much, but in the moment it didn’t feel like it was enough. You wanted Eddie in your skin, melting into you until you were one being.

He felt broader in your grasp, maybe even taller than you were used to. Everything about him just felt like he was dwarfing you. Your hands found purchase in his wet curls, little drops of water rolled down your skin and cooled it. Even after taking a cold shower, he still felt like he was burning where the two of you touched.

His hungry kisses soon left your lips and began to trail down your cheek, your neck, until he was in the crook placing kisses on your collarbone. 

At some point when wrapped your legs around his waist you must have knocked off his towel, because when you looked down you got a good view of his hard cock where it lay resting between your legs. You buck your hips up in a feeble attempt to get him closer to you, running his cock against your slick folds. Eddie moans against your skin at the contact.

“Eddie, please, need you,” you plea with him as you continue to rub against him. Eddie lets out hot air into your neck, mumbling something before he’s reaching down between you and grabbing his cock. He fumbles a bit trying to find your entrance, but when he does, he wastes no time pushing into you and beginning to stretch you out. 

The feeling of his cock entering you was so relieving that you came instantly with him only part of the way in. Your slick spills from you, covering Eddie’s cock in the process and getting it plenty wet for him to push the rest of the way into you. Having his cock all the way inside you as you spasm around it was like nothing you ever felt before. You’d had sex before, but no one has ever felt so perfect inside of you as Eddie does right now.

Eddie starts to fuck you through your first orgasm, starting of with a pace that you could tell was him trying to hold back for your sake.

“Eddie, you can go faster,” you say, and he gives you a crazed smile before picking up his pace.

“Feel so fucking amazing. Holy fuck, you have no idea,” he says as he starts to fuck into you like a wild animal. He wraps his arms around your knees and pushes them up as far as they will go, using his body weight to keep himself as close to you as possible.

The look he’s giving you as he pounds into you relentlessly makes your chest flutter. It’s a mix between crazed and adoration, like you hung the moon and stars in his own personal solar system. It made you realize that maybe your not so little crush on your best friend was perhaps reciprocated. At least you hoped that all of this wasn’t just whatever hormones seemed to be pulsing through the two of you right now.

As Eddie’s thrusts became more sporadic, your grip on him tightens. Your nails dig into his back just to hang on, leaving little marks all up and down his back every time you readjust your grip. But, it doesn't last much longer before you eventually let go of him, falling back into the bed.

Eddie takes your loosened grip as an opportunity to switch things up. Before you cal full register whats happening, he pulls out of you fully and completely flips you until you’re on your knees, folded over and fully exposed to him. He wastes to time reentering you, not even giving you the change to complain before he’s really fucking into you like a wild beast. The grip he has on your hips would be painful if you were able to focus on anything other than his cock bullying your insides. 

Everything at this angle was amplified, and you felt yourself being pushed close to the edge for a second time. Pretty soon your were cumming again, soaking Eddie in the process as your vision begins to go white. Your whole body tenses as you have the most powerful orgasm of your life.

The grip you have on Eddie’s cock puts him not far behind you. You begin to feel a tightness at the entrance of your pussy as Eddie’s knot begins to swell. He gives a few more shallow thrusts before he’s pushing himself as far inside of you as he can get, allowing his knot to lock the two of you together.

Hot cum begins to fill your full cunt as Eddie releases everything he has into you. Any ache that you had left over slowly melts away as you feel yourself being filled as full as you can get with Eddie’s cum. 

Eddie begins to breath heavy behind you. His grip loosens, running his hands down your back soothingly as he regains his composure. It feels amazing in contrast to the rough fucking you just received from him, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

After a moment of catching breaths, Eddie is able to maneuver your body so that the two of you are laying on your sides. It feels so nice to lay against him, his arms holding you tight against his chest. He rubs his face into your neck, kissing at the scent glad on the back of your neck.

“So,” you finally say, breaking the silence between the two of you. “I didn’t know you were an alpha.”

“I didn’t either,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Didn’t know you were an omega.”

“Same here,” you respond with a giggle. “Did we both present at the same time?”

“I guess so,” he shrugs behind you.

“I wonder why we presented together…”

Eddie hugs you tighter, breathing you in.

“I mean, it might have something to do with…well…”

You smile, turning back to look at him.

“I like you, too, Eddie.”

“I don’t like you,” he says, making you frown. But his next words have you beaming, “I think I love you. Like, more than just as friends. I’ve been noticing more recently how much I hate seeing you talk to other guys. I want to just lock you up and keep you by my side. Forever.”

Your cheeks flush, and you could almost cry from how happy you were starting to feel at his confession. 

“I feel the same. I don’t like it when you do deals with other girls in the woods. It’s been driving me absolutely insane to see you walk out of the trees with them afterwords.” 

Eddie barks out a laugh. “Trust me, none of those girls want me. I know their little games by now. I’m all yours…if you’ll have me, of course.”

“Well, considering the position we’re in, I don’t think I have any right to say no to that.”

You could feel Eddie cheesing behind you, giddy at the prospect of you finally being his girl. 

“You kids still here?” Wayne calls into the trailer a little while later, but gets no response. He figures it’s best to check on the two of you in case you were getting sick. He approaches the bedroom door, giving a few knocks that also go unanswered. 

He opens the door and peaks in, finding you and Eddie asleep under the covers. He feels relieved hoping that meant whatever fever the two of you were having had broken. 

It also doesn’t get past him how close the two of you are. Eddie’s arms are wrapped around you tight, lips resting gently against your forehead. Wayne chuckles, closing the door behind him. 

“‘bout time.”

thanks for reading!

[mokulule]

Almanac - Chapter 4

DP x DC Dead on Main First | Masterpost Note: I made a new masterpost to subscribe to over on my new blog where I organize my writing @mokus-invenstory. Links on the other chapters have been updated, I will still notify on the old post with updates.

Chapter 4 - October 21-22nd, Orinoids Meteor Shower

Training with Fright Knight was an experience.

Jason was no stranger to harsh training regimes, but it seemed like Fright Knight truly had no other duties to attend to. And maybe that was what ghosts did? Find the one thing they were good at and then do it for all eternity? It was exhausting, unrelenting.

Every day he went to the kitchen to find a plate of breakfast ready, thankfully it wasn’t the same thing every day. He wondered if it was courtesy of the Lunch Lady, but he never saw anyone else and the cupboards and pantry were empty.

The mystery of who and how human food came to be here itched at him but as long as the magical castle felt reluctant to even let him get to the kitchen in the first place (he’d yet to walk a path quite the same there) it was something he would have to leave unexplored.

He ate and then as he was done as if summoned Fright Knight would collect him and drill him until he dropped.

The knight treated Jason as if he’d never held a sword before starting basic at stance and simple attacks repeated ad nauseum, with the occasional cardio and strength building exercises. While Jason preferred guns, hand to hand combat and occasionally knives, it wasn’t the first time he’d fought with a longer bladed weapon. His general training meant he could pick up most weapons and use them successfully so he thought it was rather unfair - not that he was fool enough to raise that opinion, this wasn’t the first stern training master he’d served under.

And arguably he didn’t have much experience with medieval style broadswords. So he sucked it up and did as ordered.

There were no breaks throughout the day, no more food. You’d think it was a form of torture that he didn’t get to eat more than breakfast, but Jason, while he got tired, never got hungry throughout the day. Apparently he got the rest of his needs covered through energy diffusion or some shit - assuming he’d understood the king correctly.

His waking moments were repetitive, but he was not bored as such. Not that he was enjoying himself either, but he was busy, occupied. Training and learning new skills were never a waste - he had to tell himself that. But when he laid in the barren room, which he still considered his prison, in those short moments before exhausted sleep claimed him, horror creeped in; horror that this would be the rest of his life.

Another day another drill.

The weight of the practice sword in his hand felt as familiar as breathing after 9 days of non stop practice.

“You are becoming complacent,” Fright Knights voice boomed as always from everywhere at once despite him clearly looming right in from of him.

Jason tilted his head regarding the knight for a moment. He wondered how much sass he could get away with.

“Well you could give me a challenge instead of this,” he returned evenly.

Somehow Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was smiling unseen in the darkness under the helmet.

“Very well,” his voice rumbled like a storm in the distance, setting all of Jason senses alert at the coming threat. His grip tightened on the practice sword.

The knight turned and flew over to set aside the neon green sword he carried at his side in favor of a practice sword in the weapons rack by the wall. For the first time since Jason had seen the knight kneel before his king, his feet touched ground.

He stalked towards Jason, a weight and realness to him now as the armored shoes clanged against the cobblestone. The hair at the back of Jason’s neck stood on end as the air charged with his approach. Every instinct in his body told him to be afraid. Someone with less combat experience might have frozen, Jason picked his guard up and turned so he made a smaller target.

The cobblestone knocked his breath out and his sword clattered across the stones. His ears rang and he could already feel his left eye swelling from where it had met an armored fist. Above him a couple of shooting stars shot across the clear sky in rapid succession before the Knight stepped close. He loomed above Jason and for one horrifying moment Jason thought he would ram the practice sword through him, blunt tip and all.

Instead the knight held out a hand.

Jason wet his dry lips and took the hand. He was pulled unceremoniously to his feet.

“Did you notice what I did?”

Not only did Jason notice that twist Fright Knight had done that had sent his sword flying, he very much felt the way he socked him in the face.

“Yes.” Jason had not expected he’d be dueling something like a fucking Kryptonian, nobody that size had the right to be so fast. The trick to fighting Kryptonians and people of that speed class was more in anticipating their moves rather than reacting to them, and more importantly coming prepared with something to incapacitate them with. Jason had no clue what might be Fright Knight’s weakness, probably wouldn’t be so easy as to laugh at him.

The knight nodded at his response.

“Good, now to counter.”

He then walked Jason through no less than five possible counters, to what was apparently a rather risky move he’d done - had he been alive at least. The counters were well and good, but as long as Jason had no way to counter the speed, the knight could repeat the move at his leisure.

Not that Jason pointed that out. No, Jason practiced dutifully and found himself seeing the stars multiple times that day. He got very well acquainted with the cobblestone. On the seventh meeting with the ground, he thought he saw a glimpse of light from a window high above the courtyard. He could have sworn it was the king watching, but as he got back to his feet and looked back up the light was gone. Maybe it had just been a reflection, a trick of the light from one of the many shooting stars.

Still, reminded of why he was here, his mood soured. Yes, Jason had put himself in this situation, but he’d expected to die for his sacrifice - and maybe that would have been too easy an out, but he’d certainly not expected to be discarded, like the unwanted possession he apparently was.

Resentment curled in his gut. Poor little king never wanting to have been summoned having to take Jason as payment. It was clearly such an ordeal.

Jason snarled getting back to his feet and for the first time he went on the attack. Fright Knight seemed amused, which only egged him on. Jason reached for the All-Blades but of course they didn’t manifest, because in this stupid place not even someone named fucking Fright Knight counted as true evil.

He let Jason wear himself out, disarmed him again, and punched him hilt first in the stomach. Jason crumpled over the practice sword and slid down to his knees, gasping for breath.

The knight considered him for a moment, waiting to see if he would get up again. When he didn’t, he made a minute shake of his head.

“You have spirit, but your mortal trappings do you no favors.”

Jason couldn’t help laughing at that. What was he supposed to do? Apologize for being alive?

“Blame your king.”

Oo o oO

That night Jason dreamt of Gotham, or more specifically of Crime Alley. Dick was patrolling in Jason’s absence, but he didn’t know the Alley like Jason did. He didn’t know of the small shadowed nook in that building that made for a perfect hidey hole. He didn’t see the gun pointed at him, didn’t move until the shot rent the air.

Jason sat up in bed gasping and shaking.

It was a dream, it was a stupid dream. He fumbled automatically for his phone, before he remembered, there was no way to make sure. He was stuck in the realm of the dead. It was a dream, he firmly reminded himself.

Still he shook and couldn’t bring himself to go back to sleep. Dick’s shocked face haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

Gingerly he stepped out of bed. Clearly the order to keep Jason alive hadn’t kept the knight from beating him to hell and back. A particularly spectacular bruise mottled the side of his torso in purples and blues. From the twinging pain with every breath there was probably a few bent or broken ribs underneath that.

He walked to the bathroom, where he’d hung his clothes to dry after washing them in the sink. He reached out to touch them to find them cold and damp, a testament to how little sleep he’d managed. He shivered at just the thought of pulling them on, but he didn’t exactly have anything else to wear.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. He needed to move. That gun had been aimed for Dick’s head. It was just a dream, he reminded himself sternly. He needed to pull himself together.

Taking a deep breath he reached for his underwear first, pulling it on with a grimace. Disgusting was not a strong enough word, he thought grimly. He was cold and miserable by the time he’d finished dressing and trapped his damp socks in his boots and tied them.

Dressed, he left the room for the hallways, expecting the castle to give him a good walk around as usual - expect he’d barely walked down two hallways until a door revealed the kitchen. There was a cup sitting on the table in front of his usual place. Curious he walked over to pick up the steaming mug, he put it up to his nose and sniffed it. His eyebrows rose in surprise - hot cocoa.

He glanced around and like always saw no sign of the presence of anyone but himself. He took a sip and amended his earlier assessment with a hum of pleasure, this rich taste could only be hot chocolate. It sat warm in his belly and he found some of the restless energy leaving him. He sat down and allowed himself to relax. He held the cup with both hands and let the warmth seep into his fingers with a sigh.

Maybe the castle didn’t entirely hate him after all.

He sipped slowly, savoring the treat. The hot chocolate was good, it wasn’t quite Alfred’s but-

A wave of homesickness overtook him and he slumped forward in grief. Maybe Jason would manage to escape some day, but Alfred was not exactly young anymore. People died suddenly sometimes, even when they seemed healthy.

Jason wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t check on his family. Not Alfred, not Dick (it was just a nightmare!) or anyone. A mocking laughter haunted him as if from a distance, a memory wanting to drown him. He clenched his fits tight, he wasn’t back there. He was here, property of the ghost king, safe.

Unlike everyone else.

The Joker was still in Gotham. Still alive despite everything, a threat to everyone and Jason was useless.

He was a fucking idiot. He’d sacrificed himself willingly, but he hadn’t expected to have to live with the choice.

Did that make him a coward too? On top of everything?

He stood. He couldn’t sit here. He had to move. Before he knew it he was walking through hallways, uncaring where they took him. Left, right, nothing mattered. He just had to move. He didn’t know how long it he walked until he found himself, breathing heavily, in front of a stairwell. There was something familiar about it. His eyes were drawn to the path down. He’d never chosen to go down before. There was something down there. He took a step forward.

“Jason.”

He froze and spun around at the echoey voice. It felt like all the breath left his body, sucked into the gravity of the king.

Toxic green eyes flicked from Jason to the stairwell. Dark brows drew together in a frown, and the shadows suddenly seemed darker, deeper, like places you could fall into and disappear never to be seen again.

He floated closer. The pressure increased. Jason locked his knees to keep standing. There was a siren blaring in his mind, a scream lasting an eternity. Cold fingers touched his swollen eye soothingly and Jason gasped, a quiet little intake of breath into his burning lungs.

He wanted to move away. He wanted to lean into it. He wanted- He did nothing.

The gloved tips of fingers became the flat of a palm cradling the side of his face oh so gentle. Jason felt wetness in his eyes and blinked. He couldn’t handle gentle right now. His skin tingled and the swelling fell. The king looked at him, green eyes sad.

“Are you okay?”

Was he okay!? Jason ripped away, fury finally breaking the spell.

“The Hell I am!” In his mind Dick’s shocked face, a second from being shot flashed, “my family could be hurt right now, dying-“ a crowbar dragged across a concrete floor, a terrible laughter skittered across his senses, and every hair stood on end- “tortured.”

Jason took a step forward into the king’s space, snarled, “and I can do nothing!” into his shocked face. Playing at innocence, as if Jason’s words were a surprise. As if he didn’t know exactly what he’d done. He had changed the wording, acting like he’d done Jason a great favor. He chose to keep him here, useless, powerless.

He stepped back. Looked at the king with anger gone cold. “Killing me would have been a mercy.”

Jason braced himself for the worst. He’d said his piece. He expected an explosion, a onesided fight, for his brain to melt out his ears, something other than the hollow eyed gaze only vaguely looking in his direction.

The lights flickered and finally the king seemed somewhat present in his body. He looked at Jason with the most neutral face in existence.

“I shall relieve you of my presence, goodnight.”

He flew casually over to the staircase and went up. It was only then Jason snapped out of it.

No! How dare he!

He ran after him, but of course he was gone. The cursed castle made sure of it. Jason wanted a fight and he would not even give him that! He punched the wall with a frustrated scream that cut off into a sob.

“Shit.” He rubbed angrily at his eyes. He was fucking pathetic. Couldn’t even pick a fight right.

Oo o oO

Fright Knight found him in the practice yard, doing drills, sweaty and shaking from exhaustion.

“You are pathetic human, sit down before you fall down.”

Jason glared. “No.”

The knight promptly pushed him down on his ass. “Do not test me. I was tasked to keep you alive. Drink.”

A bottle of water was shoved into his hands.

Mulishly Jason did as he was told. It was only when he’d taken the first sip he realized just how thirsty he was and he had to force himself not to just chug the entire bottle in one go.

Fright Knight watched him with that detached disgust he had for mortal weaknesses, like the need for sleep or in this case sustenance. He was a fucking annoying, stuck up bastard, but-

“Why are you not evil?” Jason asked in frustration, too emotionally worn to consider whether that was a smart question to ask. If he had been evil, Jason could give him a proper fight. Let the knight try to phase through the All-blades.

When no response of any kind came, he looked up. It seemed he had rendered the knight speechless.

Slowly hesitantly the knight finally spoke, “You speak as if you’d prefer that I was evil, yet I was led to believe you are aligned with so called heroes.”

Jason scoffed and looked away. “Not a hero.”

Fright Knight floated down to sit crosslegged in front of Jason, his glowing green sword drawn and resting across his knees.

“I am the spirit of fear itself, I am neither good nor evil, I just am.”

Jason barked a short chuckle, of fucking course. Then, he explained the concept of the All-Blades to the knight; flaming magical blades fueled by the soul and blood of the wielder, only able to be summoned in the presence of true evil. The knight in turn looked very intrigued.

“I would have liked to match my Soul-Shredder to your All-Blades. A glorious bout that would have been…” the knight said wistfully.

“Soul-Shredder is the name of your sword?”

“Indeed,” Fright Knight chuckled maliciously in a way that ran cold down Jason’s back, an effect that was done on purpose judging by the greedy glow in his gaze. Jason felt fairly certain he feed on fear.

The knight raised the green blade between them and turned it to let Jason see every facet with obvious passion. “One cut from Soul-Shredder will land you in a dimension of your worst nightmare.”

Jason’s breath caught in his throat. No. He refused to think about it. He forced a half choked laugh, “and you claim not to be evil.”

The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe if we had met in the previous king’s rule, we could have had a proper match.”

Jason frowned in confusion. “Why would who the King is matter to your nature?”

“Because human,” Fright Knight began, green eyes boring into Jason, “the King is the most important soul in the Realms. His nature affects the very air from which we get our energy.”

“Pariah’s reign was a dark time,” there was an almost nostalgic tone to his voice as he continued, “he sought to conquer, control and enslave and I was his loyal servant, as is my duty as a knight. But Pariah was so bad that having no king at all was a better option than him, and he was sealed away by the Ancients, even if it left the Realms stagnant and disconnected.”

He paused for a moment to let that knowledge sink in.

“Our Phantom is a king who never wanted to rule, and has actively avoided it. It has been amusing to see him grow into the role.”

“And as long a he doesn’t grow into a power hungry despot he will always be better than the last?” Jason asked bitterly.

The knight barked out delighted laughter at that.

“Make no mistake, mortal, Phantom is a good king now, but he is young, still changeable by nature. These years are crucial. But should the worst happen and my king become a despot, as you put it?”

Fright Knight shrugged carelessly. “I will merely do as I have always done and that is to serve my king. I am the spirit of fear after all. It is only my concern now because my king wishes to avoid that fate.”

Leather creaked as the knight tightened the hold on his blade. He looked straight at Jason. Despite no mouth being visible, Jason had the distinct feeling the knight was grinning.

“We may yet have our bout someday.”

-

And that was chapter 4... nobody is really in a good place here? Except Fright Knight, he's having fun.

Comments are much appreciated <3

Next

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[me-and-your-husband]

getting caught with Ellie smut 😏😏

genius. i like your way of thinking 😏

warnings: not proofread, fingering, dirty talk, oral, getting caught, scissoring, swearing

a/n: i was gonna have joel catch them but i love him too much to do that to the poor man.

if you'd like to read more of my work, check out my masterlist.

ellie's large hands grip the insides of your thighs, squeezing into the soft flesh. she's spreading you open, breath fanning over your naked core, inches away from where you need her. where you're weeping for her.

your fingers find their way to her hair, latching on gently. "ellie, please," you whimper.

"please what?" she looks up at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. "words, baby."

"touch me. i want you so bad, please," you begged. she blew warm air on your clit, sending a shiver up your spine and through your body.

"how do you want me?" she said, her voice slightly raspy with arousal.

"fingers, mouth, anything. just want you." you were desperate at this point, slick dripping down your cunt and into ellie's bed. of course, she didn't mind one bit.

"how 'bout both?" she said as she traced your foods with her fingers, collecting your slick, and eventually prodding through your tight hole. you moaned at the entrance, fingers tugging at her roots. her eyes were trained to where her fingers moved in and out of you. "that's it, pretty girl. want my mouth too?" you nodded fervently, ready to take anything she'd give you. and ellie was always generous.

ellie's tongue swiped through your folds before latching onto your clit as her fingers worked you open. the sound of her fingers going in and out of your cunt were so obscene, but you were too far gone to care. "fuck, baby. so good. so fucking good," you moaned, fingers still laced in your hair.

ellie was on a mission. when she began to feel you clenching around her fingers, she picked up her pace, only stopping to whisper breathy praises into your cunt. the heat in your core burned brighter and brighter.

"ellie, 'm not gonna last long," you managed to get out, hands subconsciously pushing her closer into your messy cunt.

she lifted her head for a moment to look at you, "come on, baby, cum for me." her mouth returned to your pussy, licking and sucking fervently, fingers, three now, stretching you open.

finally, she tipped you over, your orgasm flooding through you. gushing around her fingers, she licked up everything you had to offer her. "that's it, pretty girl. good girl. you've got it," she praised, helping you ride out your orgasm, fingers unrelenting, your moans echoing through the room.

as you came down from your high, ellie moved up to kiss you. her tongue begged entrance to your mouth, and you let her in. moaning into the kiss, you began to get rather annoyed with the way ellie still had so many clothes on. you tugged at her white tank top. she got the hint, lifting it over her shoulders with a chuckle. "someone's needy."

"not needy, just don't think it's fair you're not as naked as me right now," you pouted, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. your mouth found her tits, the warmth of your tongue on her nipple making her moan. you continued to massage her chest and suck marks into it's flesh as she undid her belt and shuffled her jeans off.

"this better?" she replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

you traced the hem of her panties. "these too."

"damn, take me out to dinner first, woman," she said as she slid them down her legs and threw them somewhere with the rest of your clothes.

"you say that as if you weren't just buried between my thighs," you said, and she laughed. you pulled her down into another kiss, tongues pressing against each other. she softly bit your lip, pulling gently. "fuck. wanna try something," she said, voice gravelly.

she pulled away from you, straddling one of your thighs and pulling your other leg to her hip. she moved closer to you, your folds brushing hers. she caged you between her forearms on either side of your head, leaning down to kiss you again. this time, she started grinding against you, moaning into each other's mouths. it felt like heaven to be this close to her, but you'd always look for ways to get closer.

"fuck, ellie," you moaned, still sensitive from your previous orgasm, folds slick with her spit and your juices. she moaned back into your mouth, one hand travelling to your breast, gently twisting the hardened bud.

"so pretty," she moaned.

you were already so close. so close, and maybe that's why neither of you heard the knock on her door. or the second knock. or the hey ellie, you in there?

"oh, fuck!" this wasn't from you or ellie. she pulled away from you, eyes wide, and her head snapped towards the door. your gaze followed hers.

jesse stood frozen at the door, jaw slack. ellie moved to cover your body with hers, shielding every part of your body (because it was only for her to see) from his view. he turned around to face the other way, awkwardly stuttering, trying to find something to say.

"what is it, jesse?" ellie said, annoyed, but barely embarrassed. you simply blushed underneath her.

"i, uh, there's a...um," jesse struggled. he cleared his throat. "maria wants you on patrol in the morning. nathan is sick, so...she told me to come let you know."

"thanks, jesse."

you could tell by the way he looked at his feet that he was searching for something to say, an apology or something.

ellie grunts. "it's fine, jesse. just get out of here so i can finish what you interrupted."

jesse left without anything more than a nod.

ellie leaned down, "where were we?"

i want her so bad

permanent taglist:

@winters-fairy

[agaypanic]

My Babysitter's a Vampire Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Benny

Casts spells all the time just to see you smile

FLOWERS!!! So many flowers, conjured at any moment

Your locker becomes a garden tbh

Would do anything for you

If you need help, he’s there in a heartbeat

If you have a problem that can’t be fixed with a spell, he’d probably try to create his own

Favorite pastime is playing games with you

Especially when you’re playing in his room because, more often than not, you’re sitting on his lap

Your guys’ favorite game to play is Minecraft

“Y/n, where are you?” Benny asked as he built a house for the two of you.

“I’m on the other side of the hill.”

“Why are you so far away? It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“This side has more flowers.” He looked at your screen, and sure enough, you were picking flowers in a field. “The house has to be pretty.”

“Y/n, I dunno how to make the house look like you.” Benny pinched your side with his teasing and you giggled, squirming around in his lap. He kissed your temple before going in to start putting structures inside the house. “Now get over here before I have to go get you.” 

Reluctantly, you left the field and made your way to the house. Making sure to close the door behind you, you ventured inside and found Benny’s character in the bedroom.

“Aww! You put the beds next to each other.”

Rory

BIGGEST SIMP OF ALL TIME I SWEAR

The second he sees you, he’s a goner

Benny and Ethan gotta pull him down bc he starts floating

Carries all your stuff without you asking

Walks you to class all the time, even if his class is on the other side of the school

Saves a seat for you at lunch even tho it’s your unassigned assigned seat at the table

Practically has heart eyes anytime he looks at you

Talks about you all the time to his friends

They could be talking about something completely different, but he’s determined to make you the topic of conversation whenever he can

“Oh my gosh, that reminds me of the time Y/n…” and the two things will be COMPLETELY unrelated

You immediately spotted your boyfriend and your friends by your locker when you got to school. Rory seemed to be going off on some tangent, and it must’ve been going on too long because the others looked like they were about to murder him or themselves. To spare your friends, you walked fast to meet them. Rory sensed you before you could speak, turning to look at you with vampire swiftness.

“Y/n!” He looked at you like a puppy who hadn’t seen its owner in hours. When you were close enough, he peppered your face in kisses, much to the group’s disgust.

“Hey, Rory.” You laughed when he eased up on the affection, moving to greet everyone else. “Hey, guys.” They replied with their own greetings while you opened your locker. With each book you took out, Rory immediately took it from you without saying a word. “Rory, baby, you don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I insist, honeybunch.” The warning bell rang, and everyone dispersed. Rory walked you to your first period, something he did every day without fail.

“Okay, you better go. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing. That’s what superspeed is for.”

“Superspeed you shouldn’t be using in public.” You took your books from Rory and gave him a kiss to tide him over for the next hour. “See you after class?”

“Always, baby.”

Ethan

Soooo nervous about being around you

Whenever he touched you, he’d get visions of the two of you together

That just made him fall harder for you

Makes flirty remarks based on his powers

“I had a vision we made out” kinda stuff

Memorizes everything about you

He believes every detail is important

Whenever he’s around, don’t even think about paying

Even if he’s broke, he’s paying for your stuff

You and Ethan were in line at some fast food place, all he could afford. You would’ve offered to help pay but knew attempts would be futile. As nice as Ethan was, he was also stubborn. Soon it was your turn to order, and you didn’t even speak, Ethan relaying your regular order perfectly, down to what sauce you wanted. He then let you lead him to whatever booth you wanted.

“You know, I don’t mind paying one of these times.” You commented before taking a sip of your drink. Ethan shook his head, dismissing the thought.

“Y/n, for the thousandth time, it’s fine. I really don’t mind.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.” Your boyfriend grinned, reaching to take your hand. He looked down, watching his thumb rub back and forth over the back of your hand. You saw a slight smirk and knew what was coming. “I just had a vision.”

“Oh really?” You bit back a laugh, flipping your hand over to interlock your fingers. “What happened in this vision of yours?”

“Well, first of all, the food is very delicious.”

“Oh, good.”

“And second, I ask you something very important.” This piqued your interest very much.

“I think you should ask me now.”

“Sorry, babe, I ask you after we get our food.” As if waiting for the cue, your order number was called. Ethan grinned, kissing your hand as he stood from the booth seat. He left, and when he returned with a tray of food, you were impatient.

“Okay, ask me the question. I wanna know.”

“Okay, okay.” Ethan distributed the food between the two of you before looking at you expectantly. “Who gave you the right to be so pretty?”

“Oh my God, Ethan.”

[moremaybank]

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

[theorist-fox]

Some type of skin (and two keys)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Currently crossposting previous works from AO3.

Inspired by "Some type of skin" by AURORA (I have an obsession and it's a Norwegian pale lady)

Summary: Johnny's passing has left you devastated. Simon is there to pick up the pieces, while you, although unconsciously, mend his tired heart.

CW: talk of grief, death and loss, angst, broken promises, hurt/comfort, soft Simon Riley but also angry Simon Riley. Mention of pharmacological drugs.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

The air felt clogged; thickened and uncomfortably warm. You tried to blame it on the closed window and the unrelenting sun that reflected against the glass, but the truth was that you felt awkward in your own skin. The uniform clung to your body like a prison. Once, it had been your armor: the breathable dark green cotton of the tee, the black leather of the belt cinching your waist, until the thick camo trousers. They all felt bulletproof.

Yet, ever since you’d witnessed that bullet tearing a hole into Johnny’s head, each piece of clothing had turned into something akin to a goddamn straitjacket. It replayed in your head ad nauseam until it turned into a living nightmare. Until you saw his bloodless face in everyone around you, until you felt a hole in your own skull, as if his death were an omen of your end, as well.

For the first time in the years you had worked with the task force, you were the one who called for a meeting. Well, it was an informal encounter more than anything. A text you had sent simultaneously to all of them.

“We have to talk. Room 4A in HQ 10AM?”

By mere habit, you’d also sent it to Soap; it wrecked your heart to see the red alert on the right side of your bubble, the small Not Delivered right below it. The cracks shattered further when you received the automated response telling you that the number didn’t exist.

How could it not, when you had accumulated thousands of hours on phone calls? How could it not, when you could scroll for days on the chat and never find the first text he’d ever sent you?

You had tried, one of many sleepless evenings: your thumb almost ached due to the mere motion. Fingertip up. Swipe down. Fingertip up. Swipe down. You found it, then. Something old, ancient. The bubbles were green because iPhones still didn’t have the feature that allowed you to text using internet between Apple devices.

“glad to have you on the team. big boss gave me your number. this is soap anything you need im a text awya.”

“aywa*”

“away !!!!”

You'd laughed and it quickly morphed into strangled cries, until your vision got foggy, and your lids yielded. You fell asleep clutching the phone to your cheek.

After having spread his ashes on the Scottish Highlands, everyone had made the sensible decision of taking time off – a sort of unsanctioned compassionate leave. On the other hand, you stayed buried in the tight office you had in Stirling Lines. You couldn't handle the silence that your empty flat would bring. Granted, that didn’t mean you spent much time talking to passersby here at the headquarters, strangers and colleagues alike.

You hovered around the hallways like a specter – paled and depleted. Utterly unavailable to anyone who decided, for reasons unknown to you, to waste their breath on your person. You’d hear grieving words tossed your way, and you'd nod warmly at those. Polite. Affable. Like you’ve always been, even now that the light had been sapped out of you.

Johnny brought it with him - the light. The sun of the team: beautiful yet deadly. Necessary, but dangerous. Lethal only to those who tried to unravel his equilibrium, warm and inviting to the ones who embraced his person.

Now that he was gone, there was darkness – the world dimmed to pay its respects.

It had been eight months. During those, you had worked tirelessly to concoct a plan to have your revenge. Price sometimes knocked on your door only to find you hunched over blueprints and notes. The look he gave you each time was nothing short of pitiful. He didn’t try to stop you, but you could feel the disappointment seeping through your bones and grating them to dust.

Gaz brought you coffee, sometimes. He often came to your office, knocked softer than Price – a knuckle against wood, compared to all four of them incessantly rapping against the door. Sometimes, it wasn't coffee. Sometimes, despite how bad it might have looked, Gaz spilled a few drops of Rozerem in your chamomile tea, hoping it would force your eyes closed for some rest.

All of them, drove from their respective homes only to come and check on you. You wondered if they had an unofficial shift schedule, shared between them both.

Ghost, though. Ghost stayed. 

Angrier than you. Insatiable. Raging. Went for runs at ungodly hours, when the sun wasn’t even about to peek from the horizon. He monopolized the gym of the headquarters; an easy task for him, all he needed to do was use his thousand-yard stare against the unlucky lad who dared cross the threshold. When he felt like the punching bag had taken enough of his gauzed fists, he would come to your office – sweaty and bruised. He rarely bothered to shower. He’d sit next to you, and he’d help.

Everyday.

Ever the detached bastard he'd always been, he grew closer against his better judgment. Albeit it had been years since you had joined the task force under Price’s will, Ghost had always stood several steps away from you. Yet, lately, he’d woven himself to you like a spider spinning an intricate web. He wrapped you in a cocoon, and differently from the eight-legged creature, Simon didn’t want to drain the nectar of life.

He wanted to be your armor. A panoply of rustproof iron: encasing you in chainmail, helmet, and all.

It’s why, now, as you sat on your own at the briefing room table with the increasing temperature in the room, guilt ate you from the inside. Termites feasting on wood.

The first one to enter was Kyle. Pretty brown eyes looked at you fondly, as if they were taking in a long-lost friend. He sat next to you, exchanged a few tentative words, and smoothed the hair away from your forehead. He didn't care about the grease clinging to them, instead, he grazed short nails against your scalp as he told you about his week.

You were eternally grateful for him and his tactful ability to make you feel normal when life seemed to have turned askew.

Price walked in a few minutes later. Stoic as ever, but with kindness in his blues. He held a tray in his hands, four paper cups of steaming coffee balanced on it. He set it on the table and slumped on the chair in front of you. He asked you how you were doing. You answered that you were fine. You asked it back. He answered the same. No one believed a single word.

Ghost made you all wait. You explained that he was probably at the gym, or having a late-morning run around the training grounds. If they were worried about you, the concern for Ghost was something even greater. While only Price knew of the intricacies of his past, it didn’t take a doctorate in psychology to understand that whatever had forced him to wear the skull mask was something that still haunted him in the present.

────────────

You remembered it vividly, that one evening. Life had battered you both, kindred spirits in what seemed to be the inability to grieve properly.

You, with your head propped on the armrest of the narrow couch in your office. He, slumped on the cushions as he cradled your calves in his lap. A hand absently brushed the thick cotton of your work trousers. His eyes were to the ceiling. His empty stomach growled incessantly, much like yours – both running on fumes, caffeine, and nicotine, or the occasional shared bite stolen from the cafeteria after its closing time.

As your eyelids were about to flutter closed, you heard the rumble of his voice vibrating in his diaphragm, close to where he held your feet.

“Hooked by the ribs,” he said.

The inquisitive look you sent him was missed because he didn't divert his eyes from the ceiling.

“Buried alive,” he strained, “Crawled outta my own grave.”

It hit you later, that he was sharing. You slowly sat up, pushing your torso with your tired arms. You moved gingerly, afraid a mere shift in the air would cause him to sew his mouth shut. While you had an inkling that whatever happened to him must have been gruesome and cruel, those few words (which you were sure, merely scratched the surface) already caused your stomach to churn.

“They used me, tried to break me and they did.”

Your jaw worked. Propped on your elbows, you gulped down the stone in your throat. Eyes glued to the unmasked profile – to the crooked nose, flattened by punches and butts of guns, to the divot between his lips, to the absent brown eyes with their halo of pale lashes. His fingers curled around your ankle and his thumb brushed over your sock.

“Killed my family,” he went on, and you wondered if he was talking to you at all, “Killed my nephew, too.”

Barely noticing how your eyes glazed over with treacherous tears, you bent your knees over his thighs and scooted closer. The only indication that he had acknowledged your presence and wasn’t simply musing out loud was how his palms shifted: from your ankles, up to your calves. He furled his fingers around the meaty part, while his other hand blindly went to look for your neck. He rested his palm against the side of it, let his thumb trace the outline of your jaw.

“Took everything from me, turned me into this,” he muttered, and his brows furrowed while his pupils danced over the chipped paint of the ceiling.

Half of the times you were given the luxury to gaze at the face beneath the mask, you’ve wondered where those scars came from. What kind of heroic deed had he carried out that caused each mark, or what awful act he must have committed that ended up leaving perpetual memories of it, etched in his flesh.

Never, not once, you thought someone else purposefully did it to him. Someone so cruel, so brutal, that made him regrow his skin – like a snake, shedding his frail past to build a thicker armor.

“The army left me to rot, y’know," he whispered, and although you weren't answering (truthfully, you were barely breathing) he knew you were listening.

“But not Price,” his thumb pressed into your cheek, “Not Price, nor Garrick, or you – or Soap.”

It was grimly ironic how such an idiotic callsign could bring this remarkable heaviness on your heart. The silence lingered after he uttered it, either a way to pay respect or a simple inability to continue right afterwards. Because that’s how it felt like.

Months ago, when his body flattened against the concrete of a forgotten underground tunnel, the word Soap met an end. Forever, there will be nothing else to add right after it, if not things you already knew, or heavy silence.

“Can’t lose any more people in this life,” he sighed, “Johnny must be the goddamn last, y’hear?”

You heard.

You craned your neck to the side so your cheek would slot in his palm. Saltwater dampened your skin and moistened his calluses.

“Deal,” you croaked.

He nodded, taking in your word, digesting it. A stupid promise, really. No one can pledge such a thing, but at that moment he cared very little for it. Especially when he felt your lips press against his palm.

“Deal.”

────────────

You bit your thumbnail in silence, then brought it in front of your eyes to look at the red indent around it. A droplet of blood seeped through the crack, and you suckled on it to soothe it.

Ghost abruptly walked in, the door almost flying off its hinges. He closed it behind him but didn’t take a seat. Instead, he rested his back against the shut threshold and folded his arms in front of his chest. A nod of his jaw that shifted the fabric of the balaclava was all he offered.

Now that everyone was in, the moment you had been dreading the most arrived. Albeit you had been planning this for weeks, your stomach still felt like it had swallowed a rock.

You stood up, wonky on your feet. The chair screeched as it slid back.

“I’m retiring.”

If the silence was thick before, now it felt like a boulder.

When volcanos erupt, it’s rare for lava to burst into the air and fall like sizzling rain over the landscape below it. What kills every living creature, it’s the dust that settles afterwards: it's scorching hot, stops life in its tracks.

The moment the words bubbled from your throat like molten lava, the residues puffed out of your crater and deposited on everything surrounding you. The room now felt like a ghost town, with each breathing soul inside turned into a forever statue.

The only thing that moved was Simon, who wrenched the door open and left.

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

It had been weeks since you last saw him. Well, you did see him: Stirling Lines wasn't that big. But he didn't see you. He didn't knock on your door anymore and barely acknowledged your presence if he found you in his vicinity.

It felt pointless to continue your search for attribution if he wasn’t looking for it with you, so with a quick swipe of your arm, you trashed every blueprint, every post-it note, every map, and leaflet. Maybe that would grant Soap some rest as well.

A signature away from your departure, you were lying in your bed, ready to knock yourself out with a few droplets of benzodiazepine. The route to the comatose dreamless night that awaited you, though, was interrupted by a series of raps against your door.

After years in the military, you had developed quite the remarkable hearing – if one was willing to exclude the tinnitus. It meant you could recognize whose footsteps belonged to whom, whose breathing was coming from whose mouth, and which knock pertained to which hands. You knew these knuckles, indeed. Hastily tossing your legs over the edge of the bed, you padded your socked feet against the linoleum of your private quarters. Fingers shakily curled around the doorknob, and you yanked the door open.

It wasn’t like in movies, when after such a long absence time slows down when your eyes touch, no.

It was raw, irate, and spiteful.

Simon placed a thick hand on your shoulder and shoved you aside to barge in. You barely managed to recollect your balance when he slammed the door closed behind him. He looked around the room as if searching for something but not being quite sure of what. Habit, you thought.

Brown eyes that never showed much of the constant turmoil brewing in his head now landed on you sizzling with hatred.

He yanked the mask off. It fell limply to the ground.

His cheeks were flushed, whether from the warmth that had been building behind the cheap fabric of the mask or from hot anger, you couldn’t tell.

"We had a deal.”

It ripped the air from your lungs, vacuumed them clean, and ironed them flat. Your hand flew at the base of your throat, fingers nervously rubbing against your collarbone.

His voice was clouded by an unbreachable fog of anger. You felt as if you were sailing through the ocean on a moonless night, only darkness ahead of you and a single oar in your hands. That’s how it felt to navigate through Simon Riley, even now that you had managed to have a grasp on the person he was.

Your pupils traveled along his person to settle on his face, not jaded like usual but contorted in a scowl. The strain at the junction of his jaw wasn’t a new sight, nor were the taut tendons of his neck.

Sometimes, he’d fall asleep on the couch in your office; your head on his shoulder or cradled in his lap. You’d wake up then, at the sound of teeth grinding. Bruxism in his sleep, jagged sounds that made your hair stand on end. Gingerly, you used to lift your hands and press the tips of your fingers at his jaw hinge, massaging the spot until he stopped.

You wished you could do it now.

"I’m sorry," you replied calmly, trying to quell his spirits and failing spectacularly.

He took hasty steps around the room, pacing like a lunatic. You didn’t have the guts to walk closer to stop him, not yet. What left his lips next, though, made you want to crumble to the floor like a house of cards.

“Leaving ‘cause I told you all tha’?” he snapped, “’cause you can’t handle another broken case to add to your file?”

Fear of approaching him left your body like steam from a cup, indeed that’s what you did. As he relentlessly paced around the cramped space of a military-issued room, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his bicep.

He froze and yanked his arm away. Your palm like blistering coal against his skin.

You knew he was as hulking as they come, you knew he was built like a goddamned brick house, and you knew he towered over you (he towered over most, in your defense). Yet, nothing could have prepared you for the way he languidly turned to face you, looking down. You craned your neck back, otherwise your eyes would only meet his collarbones, peeking through the loose black tee he was wearing – casual comfort clothes he wore to sleep at night, those few times he did.

"Never think that,” you stated, stressing the adverb, “Never think that.”

You swallowed thickly, yet your eyes never wavered, "I – It’s complicated,” but it truly wasn’t.

Your expression softened, but you knew it would do little to smother the flames in his eyes, ready to flatten the entirety of the room.

"After Johnny, I couldn’t anymore,” you whispered, “I can’t, Simon.”

The defeated tone of yours had the bite of a skillfully honed blade. It cracked his ribcage open and stabbed the heart he didn't think he owned anymore.

He murmured then, eyes narrowed, “The fuck you mean you can’t?”

Your mouth curled down and you rolled your lips between your teeth. The tip of your tongue soothed a crack in the skin.

"I'm scared," you wheezed as if the words were difficult to utter. Scared of loss, scared of death, scared of pain, scared of scars, both physical and mental. Scared of the future, scared of your past and his, scared it would haunt you until you'd turn cold and stiff - all the people you've killed and those who survived. Fear, in its unfettered, most gut-wrenching form.

He tongued his cheek, somewhat irritated by the statement. He let the words stick like molasses to his eardrums, muffling each sound. Simon wasn’t a stranger to fear; he walked with it hand-in-hand, a faithful companion that never left his shadow. Yet, he hated that you were feeling it because in his mind you didn't deserve it.

He would have liked to tell you that, but words always failed him when he needed them the most.

"Thought you’d have grown thick skin by now," his voice was low, controlled, and deadly. Meant to hurt, meant not to graze but to cut. It was all he knew, how to hurt – especially when he was aching as well.

You looked up at him through the furrow of your brows, brief anger flashing in your eyes. You set it aside, instead opting to cast your gaze sideways. You cupped your elbows in a sort of self-reassuring hug, thumbs indenting in the flesh of your biceps.

"I wish I did,” you murmured, “Can’t grow that type of skin, it seems.”

He wanted to rebuild the cocoon he had so carefully crafted around you. He wanted to go back being the shield that kept you from any harm. The chainmail that prevented each stab.

He wanted to be that skin you didn’t seem to grow, like a reptile losing its inborn ability to replenish its flesh.

Johnny’s passing took his cold heart and thrashed it. The bond he deepened with you afterwards made it regrow. He wondered, when he'd look at you during those days, as you leeched your brain dry over blueprints and notes, if you were aware of it.

You scared him most delightfully, and he thought whether his heart should reveal itself to be more than a muscle, or a fist covered in blood.

That's why the resentful look in your eyes felt like fresh water on the fire in his chest. How could he let you drain yourself dry over this, when you had been the only light the moment his world blew out each candle.

So, his anger took the backseat, and he sighed. Drawn-out, long, and tortuous.

“Where you goin’, then?” he said, softer.

You felt it, the sorrow of his tone. It made your head swivel in his direction. You blinked, opened your mouth to answer, and hesitated.

“Bury,” you breathed, “Bury St. Edmunds.”

His eyes narrowed in thought: you could almost see the map of England he had cast in front of him reflected in his pupils.

“’s about a four-hour drive from here," his voice trailed off.

"Yeah," you mused, slightly confused by the abrupt switch in his behavior. But you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, were you?

Instead, your hands slid up your arms soothingly, "Found a nice flat there, in the city center.”

You shrugged, trying to act as if it wasn’t a big deal, although Simon could tell it was by the way your eyes twinkled at the mention. Something new, something fresh that promised a new beginning, away from bloodshed and loss, closer to warmth and familiarity.

Closer to home.

"It’s nice. It has a small balcony that faces the cathedral,” you went on, sounding almost bashful, “Was thinkin’ about growing my own herbs? Like basil, and such.”

He didn’t reply or move. Barely breathed.

Just stared.

Stared at the soft expression on your face, at the way your lashes framed your eyes. Stared at the way your lip trembled, ever so slightly, as you blabbered about such ordinary things like balconies, and churches and bloody herbs.

He could already picture you with dirt under your bitten fingernails as you dug into brown, ceramic vases, refusing to wear gardening gloves.

He could hear your bare feet padding against the hardwood floor as you went on to brew your tea. Or the squeaking sound of the cushions of a leather couch as you dropped on it, without a care in the world, holding a book by its spine.

You truly disarmed him in that simplicity – a dress he realized he would’ve loved to see you wear more often.

You seemed unaware of the subtle awe that glinted in his pupils, since you went on to add how the flat had a guest room – although it completely flew over his thick head. What did reach his eardrums, though, was what you said next, "And it has two keys."

He snapped out of his reverie and swallowed.

"Two keys," he echoed.

His willpower felt as thin as an ice slab under the blistering sun. It melted pitifully and turned into a warm puddle in his chest. Nothing could’ve stopped him as his feet marched to you, closing both physical and emotional gaps.

He palmed your cheek and whispered with certain hoarseness in his voice, "Two damn keys.”

Your heart swelled three times its size. You swore you felt the indents left against it by each rib. Leaning your cheek against his hand, like you’d done many nights before, the most subtle of smiles graced your features.

Simon vowed he’d fight tooth and nail to see it grow.

You whispered, then, "If you want, you can just drive those four hours 'n pop in. I'll make you a cuppa, maybe take you for a tour around Bury.”

His eyes softened – crinkles at the corners and brows twitching in the middle.

"Four fuckin' hours for a cuppa and a tour,” he mumbled, "What are you, the Queen of England?"

You huffed a chuckle, pretending to find his sarcasm annoying by adding a roll of your eyes. Truthfully, you’d pay good fucking money to hear it daily.

"I'm gonna need the spare key, though" he whispered, his thumb brushed your cheek reverently.

You lifted your hand to trace his often-cracked knuckles with the pads of your fingers, “Not a spare key – your key.”

Simon swallowed thickly again. He ran his tongue over his teeth, clamping his jaw shut. His gaze hardened, his pupils danced about your face, awfully concentrated, as if he were refraining from doing something.

His sudden silence made your resolve waver. You removed your hand from the back of his, curling your fingers as if you were touching some hot surface. It stayed there, furled in a loose fist in the space between your chests.

“You could come and spend your leaves there," you whispered tentatively, "Leave your things at my flat, so each time you come over they're already there."

It took all your courage to speak, but you knew the die had been cast already. The only thing left for you to do was to simply go for it and take the damage, or leave victorious.

"Until it's full of you,” you released a shaky breath, “Until it's your little flat, too."

Simon’s breath suddenly shortened. He'd never felt at home, not even when he was supposed to have one. He'd come close to it when his brother got clean and managed to build a family for himself, or when the task force was tight-knit, with Johnny chatting his ear off with his incomprehensible Scottish lilt. But it was never his.

This, though.

He’d be damned if he let it slip through the cracks of his fingers.

"Until it's our flat," he breathed.

His other hand reached out as well, and he placed it on your opposite cheek, "Until it’s our little flat.”

You’d be lying if you said those weren’t words you had been reciting in your head ever since you put in your retirement request. Ever since you started looking for a flat that could host two people instead of one.

Indeed, you’d naively thought that the moment they would be uttered (if ever) you would have been ready for them. But you weren't, not at all – they felt like a gut punch.

You had to bite your lip to repress tears that had treacherously made their way into your eyes, now glossy and a little wide. To think that you were able, somehow, to give him some reprieve from a life that seemed to not want him, gave you incommensurable joy.

"Our home," you croaked.

"Our home," he echoed languidly, with a thick voice, as if it hurt to speak, "Our bed. And our bloody balcony on the cathedral, and our sofa, our kitchen, and – “

He paused. Swallowed, seemingly torn. Words seemed to fail him again, but he didn’t let them – not this time. He’d fight through the fear of it all being the umpteenth joke life was taunting him with. Not you, never you – his one good hand in a lifetime of poor draws.

"And every – fucking – thing in between."

You chuckled. It’s wet with tears and disbelief.

Oh, to see him thrive in anticipation for something, instead of dreading what life has in store for him.

Your hand left the gentle grip it had on his knuckles, and you cupped his face as well – mimicking how he was holding yours.

"Every," you whispered, "Bloody, fucking thing," and nudged your nose with his, "In between."

Your lips landed on his instantly.

It was stupidly clumsy at first because you were both torn in half between what felt good and what was right. His tongue slipped between your lips as soon as you parted them for air; your teeth clacked together. You chuckled against his lips; he drank it like an oasis. His life parched of what you could give him, what you were giving him.

It took him a moment to get used to the sensation, to adjust to you. But when he finally did, he kissed you back ravenously, nothing shy from desperate. He craved your touch so fiercely. A push and pull of wandering hands, tangled in your hair and yours in his.

You were finally back where he wanted you, in the cocoon he crafted just for you, made with his flesh. He held you to his chest as if his ribcage could open and like bony fingers wrap around you and keep you safe.

He placed his foot between your legs, pushing them open. You complied when he gently nudged your knee so you’d fall back against the mattress.

Eventually, your lips parted, yielding to his, to a shared breath.

You were positively flushed, breathless, and limp in his grasp. He thought he'd never seen anything this breathtaking.

You smiled, all teeth and creases at the corners of your eyes, cheeks tipped pink as they pushed against your eyes – little crescents he’d look at for days on end.

Simon was left a little dumbfounded, though, when you squirmed under his weight to extend an arm. He followed it with his eyes and saw your hand struggling to fumble with the drawer of your nightstand. You pulled out a key and held it in the space between your faces. 

"Your key," you whispered bashfully, as if unaware that the mere sight sent Simon's heart into arrhythmia.

You placed a soft peck to his lips, "To our home."

Simon let out a staggered exhale. He wrapped his fingers around the key, closed his fist around it.

A symbol of a new beginning, one that Simon finally didn’t dread. Something good rippling through his life like fresh water, even amidst the mud of shared grief and loss.

We're good people,

And we both deserve peace.

"To our home," he whispered back, "To our home."

And let breath be air, 

And love the things I know might disappear.

And the last light of the sun

I let it slow me down

I'll crawl where everybody runs.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

yayyy ur writing for ben i luv that

can i request maybe ben dating the daughter of a famous sports journalist or something, and the media and everyone goes crazy cuz they’re so cute together

a/n: i kinda knew what i wanted to do here but also i don't know why i struggled with this fic but at the end of the day im happy it turned out like this

Taking a gap year left you with a ton of free time. Being a daughter of a tennis commentator you took advantage of it and joined him to travel, watch the sport and help him. Your father was a renowned tennis reporter whose voice was as familiar to tennis fans as the sound of a well-struck ball. 

Despite it being early morning the sun was bright and unrelenting. You wore a light pink sundress as you walked alongside your father. "Can you take these notes to the press box? I need to get ready for an interview with one of the players." he said, handing you a stack of papers. "Of course" you replied, taking the notes and turning. 

As you made your way through the building you caught a sight of Ben practicing on a nearby court. You always found him a bit intimidating - his fierce eyes, serious expression and tall, athletic frame only added to his persona. You quickened your pace, thinking you were unnoticed, but Ben glanced in your direction. Your eyes met briefly but you quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Later that afternoon, you found a quiet spot near an outer court to watch some of the players practice. You were busy going through photos you took that day when you felt someone sit down beside you. Glancing sideways, you were surprised to see Ben.  “Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice smooth and pleasant. “No, not at all,” you replied, trying to steady your nerves. You went back to the photos and you sat in silence for a few minutes before Ben spoke again. 

“You're Y/F/N’s daughter, right? I’ve seen you around”. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Y/N,” you said, offering a shy smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Ben,” he replied, extending his hand. “I know,” you said, laughing softly as you shook his hand. “I’ve watched your matches. You’re really impressive on the court”. “Thanks,” Ben said with a heartwarming smile. “Sooo.. Do you like tennis, or is it just part of the family business?”. You chuckled at his assumption “I love it. I grew up around it, and it’s always been in my life,” you explained. You two continued chatting until your phone buzzed, displaying Dad on the screen. 

..

Over the course of the tournament the two of you kept chatting here and there. He would sit beside you at every match and if he was playing he would make sure there was a reserved seat for you where you could get the best view, of him of course.

He had a few free mornings during which he would try to find you. One morning, you were sitting in the players lounge, eyes glued to your laptop as you managed your fathers social media, when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Ben with two coffee cups. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said, handing you one. “Thank you, Ben,” you replied, smiling as you took the cup. “You didn’t have to do this”.  “I wanted to,” he said, his gaze steady and sincere “Well I just wanted to wish you a good day, I have to go” he continued. You took a sip of coffee and you noticed you look pretty as always <33 written on the side of it.

..

On the final days of the tournament Ben couldn’t pay attention to how exhausted he was because his mind was filled with the thoughts of you. He remembered you had mentioned wanting to see a play that was showing in the city during the tournament. He found you amongst the organized chaos of reporters and asked to steal you for a moment.

"Oh hey, Ben. How was your day?" you said, not expecting to see him. "Good, but that's not what I want to talk about right now," Ben replied with a playful glint in his eye. "I have something for you”. He pulled out an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to you. You were quite intrigued as you opened it to find two tickets for the play you had mentioned a week ago. Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Oh my goodness, Ben! How did you...?" you trailed off, your heart warming at his thoughtful gesture. You swung your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.  "I remembered you mentioning it," Ben chuckled. "And I thought tonight would be the perfect opportunity to unwind and enjoy ourselves”. 

..

You found your seats, tucked away in a cozy corner with a perfect view of the stage. The lights dimmed, and the curtain rose, revealing a beautifully crafted set for the play. 

Throughout the show, Ben couldn't help but steal glances at you beside him. He admired the way your eyes sparkled with wonder and your genuine smile that lit up your face as you watched the actors bring the story to life. You were captivating and Ben found himself falling even more under your spell. 

During intermission, Ben turned to you  with a soft smile. "Are you enjoying the play?”. You turned to him "I love it! Thank you so much for bringing me here, Ben. It means a lot.". "I'm glad," Ben replied sincerely, his gaze lingering on you. "You look beautiful tonight”. You looked deeply in his eyes before smiling even more. You took his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder. 

..

user1: Ben Shelton spotted at the theater! Looks like he's enjoying a night out with a special someone. Who's the lucky lady? 🎭❤️

user2: Ben Shelton and Y/N (daughter of Y/D/N)  steal the spotlight at the theater! Romance off the court? 😍🌟 #BenY/N 

..

After the show the two of you headed back to the hotel. "I really like you, Y/N," Ben admitted quietly as you stood in the elevator, his voice tinged with vulnerability. You were touched by his honesty. "I like you too, Ben," you replied softly, squeezing his hand. You were practically glued to his arm as you looked up at him with big, tired, doe eyes. He smiled at the scene. 

The hotel hallway was quiet, the dim lights casting a soft glow against the carpeted floor and ornate wallpaper. Ben walked beside you as you led the way down the corridor to your room. 

"Thanks for walking me back, Ben," you  said softly, your voice with a hint of sadness as you neared your room. Ben smiled warmly. "Of course, Y/N. I had a great time tonight”. You stopped in front of your hotel room door, turning to face Ben. "I wish you could come in," you murmured, your gaze hinting disappointment. Ben reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. "I understand. Maybe next time," he replied softly, his eyes meeting yours with understanding. Ben leaned in slowly, "Can I kiss you?" he whispered. You nodded and felt his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. Your heart fluttered as you leaned into the kiss, savoring the shared warmth and closeness. 

"Thank you for tonight, Ben. I'll see you soon?" your fingers still lingered on his arm. "Definitely," Ben replied, pressing a final soft kiss to your forehead. "Goodnight, Y/N”.

..

user3: GUYS! You won’t believe, I just saw Ben kissing Y/N!!1

..

July 1, 2024

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-four

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy omg i didn't mean to wait so long to post this sorry y'all. also i think i have a coryo oneshot on the way soon maybe. unrelated to BOTH of these series, which is unheard of from me lol. oh, and i'm planning a few for this series for once it's done. (which is creeping up on us, somehow)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." Tigris says as he comes back from walking their grandmother back to her room. With the "horrible" news that a District girl would be living with them, she insisted she had to lie down or she may just die.

"She's fine." He waves his cousin off, brushing past her to grab your bag for you. "Just her typical theatrics, she'll love Y/N when she gets to know her. Don't worry."

"It's not grandma'am I'm worried about." She whispers, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Y/N?" He frowns, pausing and looking at her. "Is she okay? God- I was scared of grandma'am saying something like that to her..."

"She's fine, but you called her 'love', Coryo. In the elevator. Is she your girlfriend now, or something like that?" Tigris asks, looking back down the hall to make sure neither you nor their grandmother were overhearing.

"I mean, kind of? Not really, I don't know." He stammers, avoiding her eyes. "We never talked about it."

"Coryo!" She hisses. "If grandma'am finds out she'll have a heart attack!"

"Okay, then she doesn't have to know yet. As I said, one, we haven't talked about it and two, grandma'am will get used to her eventually and it will be fine."

"I know that." Tigris sighs, taking a step back and rubbing her head. "I'm making up the guest room for her. Just... don't let grandma'am find out."

"Obviously not." He mutters, picking up your bag to carry into the guest room.

"But Coryo-" She stops him in his tracks and he turns, looking at her expectantly. "Don't think I'm not happy for you, okay? She's incredibly sweet. Just... keep it between you guys for now. Be gentle with her."

He nods, giving her a small smile before carrying on down the hall.

When Coryo opens the door to his bedroom, you're sitting in the middle of the floor, leaning over your crossed legs as you write against the floor. "Y/N/N." He laughs slightly, closing the door behind himself. "What are you doing?"

You look up, and can't help but smile when you see him. "Hi." You grin, straightening up and standing, unfinished letter and pencil still in hand. "I was writing a letter to Lennox."

"On the floor?"

"Yes."

"There's a perfectly functional desk right behind you, love." He points as he closes the gap between the two of you.

"Yes, well, I did not want to overstep or seem nosey." You explain, looking at the desk and then back up at him.

He smiles, placing his hands on your waist. "This is my room."

"Exactly."

"What I meant," He chuckles, thumbs running over the sides of your stomach on your top. "Is that you can do whatever you want."

"Oh, well, thank you." You nod, looking down at the bed. "I'm glad to hear that because Tybs has already taken over your bed."

When he follows your eyes to the cat sprawled out on top of his sheets, he laughs. "See? He's already made himself at home."

"I am so sorry, I tried to keep him off. His hair gets on everything." You quickly say, already reaching to pick up your stubborn cat again.

"I have a lint roller." He shrugs, grabbing your wrist to stop you and leaning down to kiss your cheek.

"A lint roller?"

"Oh, love..." He chuckles, crouching down slightly to be able to pull you closer as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

You laugh, trying not to crush your letter as you hold onto him.

"I can't wait to show you everything. You're going to love it here." He grins, letting you back down onto your feet. "I know you will."

You bite your lip over a fading smile, nodding up at him.

"I know it's scary, I know that." He assures you, once again running his hands up and down the side of your waist. "But you'll get used to it, and you'll be happy here. I promise."

"How are you finding things so far?" Tigris asks, curious as you make eye contact with her while making an extremely conscious effort to not spill the tea from the cup in your hand. It felt so delicate in your hands, and you have never felt filthier- as if just sitting on their couch or touching their things would ruin them. "Not that you've seen much, yet."

"It's..." You start, deciding just to put the steaming tea down so you don't spill it on your lap. "It really is like I've never been here before. Which is nice, because I was scared to come back, if I am being totally honest."

"I can imagine." She nods in understanding.

"When, um, when I was last here," You clear your throat. "We didn't see much of anything. We were always moved in vehicles with no windows except for the funeral, so..."

We.

"You could see some of the city from the zoo, though." Coryo adds.

"I could." You nod, swallowing over the dryness suddenly overbearing in your mouth. "Tigris, Coryo says you're a designer?" Changing the subject was the only thing you could do to help it.

"Yes, well, I'm trying." She laughs.

"My Ma is a seamstress." You tell her. "She's made everythin' I've ever worn." The way your District accent seems to reappear makes Coryo smile to himself- that's who you were at home. He can hear the tension and nerves leaving your tone.

"Really?" She smiles. "That's amazing. I've made much of our clothes, too, but it's just so hard to find the time."

"It is extremely time-consuming." You agree, looking over at Coryo next to you as he pats your shoulder. He points to the tray of snacks Tigris had brought out, and you reach out to take a cookie. You hadn't eaten all day, which was likely contributing to your shakiness. Though, you also hadn't felt hungry at all since you left home.

"Your mother is very talented." Tigris says, taking a sip of her tea and gesturing to the skirt and top you were currently wearing. "Does she embroider too?"

You look down, taking note of the detailing on the trim of your sweater. "Yes. All by hand."

"I've never tried it, I wouldn't know where to start." Tigris laughs.

"Oh, me neither." You laugh slightly, shaking your head. You did know, you weren't as good at it as your ma, but she still put in the effort of teaching you the basics.

"Don't talk too much about this- Tigris will turn you into a human pin cushion." Coryo teases, looking back to the hall to make sure grandma'am hadn't somehow made an early recovery and come out of her room before he can place his arm over your shoulders.

"Oh, hush." She laughs, pretending to throw a cookie at him as you chew slowly on yours, smiling. They remind you of you and Lennox, almost. The way they talk to each other, and how much it's obvious they love each other. Anywhere in Panem, kids are just kids.

The wave of a sick, gut-wrenching feeling hits you so fast that you stand up before you can even think about it. "Would you excuse me?" You mumble, turning and retreating down the hall to look for the bathroom Tigris pointed out earlier without even hearing either of their responses.

By the time you gently close the door and slide the lock shut, you're near hyperventilating. You hadn't even said goodbye to your own brother. You wrote him a note promising to write him every week and call once they had the phone that Coryo left them money for, but it wasn't enough. The idea of him waking to find you just gone, again, was all it took to have you sliding down the wall and curling up with your knees to your chest.

You were alone, and you missed your brother. Your family, the Covey. You should have said a longer goodbye to Lucy Gray, you should have woken Lennox and faced his anger about you leaving because that would mean you could have at least given him a hug. You felt like an awful sister, and an awful friend.

Even as you screw your eyes shut to try and pretend you're in your own bathroom, it doesn't do a thing to hold back the tears that have begun to stream freely down your face.

You have to be quiet.

What helped last time? Last time, you ran over lines. Coryo asked you to talk to him. Coryo was there.

Oh, she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence; railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would flout her. 'I measure him,' says she, 'by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I should.

Thinking about it does very little as well, so you continue. With your forehead pressed to your knees, random lines and quotes flow through your head and are endlessly whispered from your lips. You don't have time to think of anything else.

You were getting better at managing your own panic attacks before Coryo came to Twelve, but since then you had been set back to square one. The games ended over two months ago now, and it still feels like it was only a week ago; the shock had worn off and you felt like you were losing your mind. Other times, other days, you were completely fine. As if none of it had ever happened, but would this move be the beginning of round three? Was this what your life was now? A never-ending cycle of feeling normal followed suddenly by the need to pull yourself up and out of rock bottom?

You didn't know if you could take it.

The nightmares came back day in and day out in that first week. You hadn't slept well, and you only left the apartment a small handful of times and even that was only for the sake of sending letters, getting things for Tybalt, and taking him to the vet.

Coryo really wanted you to get out with him for something you wanted to do or see, but at the same time, he understood why you wouldn't want to leave. When you finally agreed to leave with him, to go to the university campus with him to pick up an application and so he could give you a tour, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

"So, we live in The Corso. That main street we were just on, obviously. That's where all the Capitols Elites live, for the most part." Coryo explains, but you're having trouble paying attention. There were just so many people. You'd seen large groups of people before in Twelve, at the market or The Hob or the reaping, but never when everyone looked so different. At the same time, this also made it easier for you to blend in. Hardly anyone had stopped you, and you hoped it would be less and less from here on out. "Hey- you still with me?"

You look up at him, nodding. "Yes, that's lovely."

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?" He laughs, reaching out to gently fix the orange scarf you had draped around your neck and over your head that had begun to slide back over your hair. It was another effort to hide- it made you feel safe. You intended to return the scarf to him, but he insisted you keep it. Suddenly, you went nowhere without it.

"Sorry, it's just... quite loud. There's a lot of people." You explain, and he has to lean down slightly to hear you.

"Yeah, well, it is a Monday morning." He says, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Lots of people going to work."

You just nod, subconsciously drifting closer to his side as you walk.

"I was just saying that this is the route we'll take to get to school." Coryo grins, gently nudging your side.

"If I get accepted."

"You will." He assures you. "I don't doubt it for a minute."

Walking onto what must be the university campus, you already see fewer people. Classes for the fall semester didn't begin for a couple of weeks, Coryo said, so that allowed you to tour the buildings and property peacefully after you picked up your application.

It was another ornate building- outside and in, you realized as Coryo opened the double doors for you. You look around, eyes wide.

"Nice, hey?" He smiles, taking your hand. "Come on, the registrar's office is this way."

You follow him blindly down a few hallways, looking up at the tall ceilings and the paintings and out the windows and even at the architecture of the building itself. It was a lot to take in, but you were pleased it was so quiet. It wouldn't always be like this, and given that you do get accepted the way he promised, you wouldn't have time to process the beauty of it later.

Entering the office behind Coryo, you decide to keep your position mostly behind him as he walks up to the desk. There's not an ounce of hesitation in his gait- or in the smile on his face. He's all confidence. This is him in his natural state- it was nice to see him truly happy.

"Good morning, Mister Snow, what can we do for you? Did you want a paper copy of your schedule?" The woman behind the counter asks him, neatly stacking some papers and placing them down next to some books on her desk.

"Hello," He grins. "I actually was hoping I could get another copy of the application forms."

"Oh? Registration and acceptance closed weeks ago."

"I know that, but..." He steps to the side, nodding for you to join him. Nervously, you do, grabbing his hand under the counter. "This is Y/N, she'd like to apply. I know it's late but she just moved to the city so I was hoping we could work around it."

The woman's eyes widen. "I- Uh, yes, okay. Yes. We can certainly try." She nods quickly. "What program will you be applying for, Miss Y/L/N?" Of course she knew who you were, and maybe now it would benefit you.

You look up at Coryo, but he just nods at you to answer. "Oh, um, English Literature, please." You answer quietly.

"Arts." Coryo corrects you kindly, squeezing your hand and nodding to her.

"Alright, let me just grab those for you." She smiles, heels clicking on the floor as she walks toward a back room.

"And I would like my schedule, if that's possible!" Coryo calls after her and she turns to give him a quick nod before disappearing behind a polished dark-wood door. "English Lit will be your major, love, but you don't need to decide on that yet." He whispers to you.

"Gosh, I'm already embarrassing myself." You laugh slightly.

"No, no you're not. It's a little confusing. I should have told you."

"I didn't know registration was already closed, Coryo." You frown. "If it's inconvenient for them we should just go. I'll just find a job instead."

"Nonsense." He shakes his head. "Like I said, they want you here. They will make it happen, trust me."

"That's not fair though, is it?"

"It's more fair because you couldn't have handed it in on time if you wanted to." He says, dropping your hand in favour of sliding his onto your lower back.

"I suppose..."

"Okay! I've got it here..." The woman reappears and you paint on your smile, reaching out for the small folder as she walks up. "There's the application and some testing questions. If you could get it to us by tomorrow night that would be amazing."

"Yes, of course, I-"

"Tomorrow night?" Coryo asks, eyebrows raised at her. "Miss, respectfully, I worked on my application for weeks, and my tests were conducted by the school."

"You'll do just fine. Just try your best." She winks at you and he purses his lips, displeased that they hardly were even giving you a chance to submit an adequate application that would accurately reflect the extent of your intelligence.

"Thank you." You tell her honestly, clutching the stack of papers to your chest. "I shall have it done tomorrow."

Coryo assumes it must be different- shorter or lacking one (or several) of the essay portions. He grabs his schedule from her with a small smile, nodding before guiding you out of the room.

"Are you hungry or anything, love?" He asks you, sliding his hand up your back to rest between your shoulder blades as you move down the same empty hall. "I could show you around and then we could stop on our way back."

You chew your lip, papers clutched against your chest. "Perhaps you can give me the tour tomorrow when we come back to drop this off?" You ask, looking up at him. "I think it is more important I go home and get this finished, there is no time to waste."

He smiles, leaning over to kiss the crown of your head while you walk. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want."

'The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?'

Staring at the essay question on the page didn't make it any easier to answer. You almost wish you had started with this so you had more time, rather than filling out all the personal information on the first and second pages and the financial information Coryo helped you with.

The answer was painfully obvious. You didn't want to write about the games, how they challenged you both mentally and physically, and what you learned from them. A lot about yourself, very little about the city you now found yourself living in.

Tapping your pen against the desk, you roll over in your mind how you want to word this. It was a delicate line to walk- it had to be honest, but also favourable to the people who lived here.

"Coryo?" You call out, turning in your chair and standing up to head across down the hall to his room.

He had left the door open, laying overtop of his ironed bedsheets and reading one of the many books you brought for him. "Can you come help me, please?"

He smiles, dropping the book immediately. "What do you need?"

"The essay... I don't know what to write." Mostly a lie, you just needed clarification on the best possible route to take the paper.

"What was the question again?" He asks as he gets up.

"What is a challenge I faced, how did it affect me, and what did I learn from it."

"What about the games?" He suggests as he brushes past you, heading into your room as you trail behind.

"Well, yes, but I don't know how to best approach it. I feel like that is a very delicate subject from my perspective." You explain. "I want to be honest but I also want them to like it."

Coryo hums, leaning over your desk to look at what has been completed on the application so far. "That's... yeah that's tough." He agrees. "If you were to answer it fully honestly, no watering it down for them, what would you want to say?"

"That..." You pause, thinking about it for a moment. "That it ruined my life. I'll never be the same person again- and neither will my loved ones, and I learned that my morals crumbled quickly under pressure." And that it's better to die in the games than live to tell the tale.

"Okay, so... it gave you a new outlook on life and a more profound appreciation for the life you had before, and you learned that people can change quickly to adapt and overcome their circumstances," Coryo says, and you frown. "Not that it is necessarily true, but that's what they'd like to hear and you wouldn't be completely lying."

He was good at twisting words and telling people what they wanted to hear in order to get what he needed from them; after all, he'd been doing it his whole life just to stay alive. His future depended on it, but you had never noticed that before. Maybe that came with a Capitol education, 'people pleasing' could be a course they taught at his academy, you wouldn't know. Power is everything here, apparently.

"And... I suppose if I had to think of an honestly good thing, I did make some friends out of it." You say, smiling up at him hopefully.

"And I am so glad," He nods, patting your shoulder. You always tried to look at the bright side- he remembered getting that impression from you even just watching the reaping. "But you can't include that."

"Why not?" You tilt your head at him.

"They won't like it, love. I mean, I would, but unfortunately, it's not for me to read."

"I see. Okay." You nod, biting your tongue. Your priorities had to shift if you wanted to get into the university, and that is a condition you could accept with a bit of practice.

"Want me to stay in here?" Coryo offers. "In case you have more questions?"

"I would like you to stay regardless." You giggle, sliding your arms around his waist to hug him.

"Good." He chuckles. "I didn't want to leave."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[heesdreamer]

could you pleasseee write something for the trend “but does he know you call me when he sleeps”

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader (jake x reader are together initially)

WC ➩ 8k

WARNINGS ➩ jake is a terrible boyfriend and reader cheats on him with heeseung. smut… like really smut (popping my full smut cherry)

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ um i don’t usually write fluffy stuff especially sexually so sorry if it’s terrible i wrote this from 6am to 10am randomly and it’s not proofread… here’s the song from the trend if you’re curious

The party was crammed and sweaty, evident by the way your dress was sticking to your back as you tried to navigate your way through the crowd of people and get to the kitchen.

When you eventually made it there your gaze immediately went to your boyfriend Jake, he was standing laughing with a few of his friends you recognized from picking him up from football practice. You’d seen them on the field a few times, having called out mocking comments every once in a while as you dragged him away from the bleachers.

You were sliding in next to him and he wasn’t sparing you a glance, too caught up in his conversation to realize his girlfriend had arrived and was looking noticeably flustered.

Despite him not paying any attention to you, somebody was and you flushed as you awkwardly looked away from the deep stare one of Jake’s friends was giving you. He wasn’t on the team but you knew him more than the others, being your boyfriends best friend over everybody else.

You wrapped your hand around Jake’s arm and leaned into him, finally getting his attention as he shot you a quick glance and raised a dismissive eyebrow before continuing on talking to the others.

Your throat burned like you were about to cry but you ignored it, not wanting to cause a scene or embarrass yourself in front of the unrelenting eyes of teenage boys. Shifting uncomfortably, you waited for him to finish as you willed the anxiety to go away.

It was Jake’s idea to attend the party in the first place despite you telling him you weren’t feeling up to it this weekend. You were stressed from exams and work, not to mention your stomach had been upset for days and you felt disgusting as you squeezed into a tight dress and heels to appease him.

Jake hadn’t always been a bad boyfriend, in fact when you had started dating at the beginning of high school he was an absolute angel in human form.

You loved him more than anything but you couldn’t deny the changes in his personality as years went on and his social circle changed. He was less focused on you and your relationship, harsher when you fought and even more dismissive towards his parents and random store workers you’d encounter out on dates, leaving you to usher apologies and follow your boyfriend out of restaurants and stores.

Heeseung, your boyfriends best friend who was currently sipping out of his red cup and watching you with low eyes, had been Jake’s friend before you met him even and sometimes you wondered if he ever felt the same way you did.

At times you wanted to ask the older boy, question him on if he was upset Jake had gotten new ruder friends and started to leave the two of you behind, demand to know if you were being dramatic or if your feelings were justified.

You never did however in fear of it getting back to Jake and upsetting him, plus the fact you rarely spoke to Heeseung lately outside of group hangouts and casual greetings.

20 minutes had passed now in the kitchen, making it two hours over the time Jake had assured you he’d have you home. You were fidgeting against his side constantly and he turned to glare at you, momentarily stopping in his rants and conversation.

“Go wait in the car.” He was muttering and handing you the keys without another word. You stood frozen in shock for a few seconds before tears of embarrassment welled up and you were turning and rushing out of the kitchen.

You felt completely humiliated considering the fact he had practically talked to you like a dog in front of his friends who already didn’t respect you, seeing you as a nagging girlfriend who took up too much of their friends precious time. You weren’t out of the house yet, barely passing through the living room, when a hand was grabbing your arm and spinning you around.

You yelped softly as you were pulled into a dimly lit hallway and you felt your back bit the wall behind you, glancing up to see who had tugged you away from your exit.

Your eyes were widening as you realized it was Heeseung, standing oddly close to you as he peered down with hooded eyes. Jake was taller than you but Heeseung even towered over him, making your height difference almost comical. You shifted against the wall awkwardly and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“You’re leaving?” He was speaking in a hushed tone, voice low and slow as he watched you. He wasn’t pinning you against the wall fully but you’d have to scoot past him if you wanted to leave, almost toe to toe with the taller boy.

“I mean… you heard what he said.” You were flushing again, still embarrassed at how dismissive Jake had spoken to you. You shook your head and looked down at the floor instead of saying anything else.

Heeseung was reaching a hand up and touching your face softly, a soft gasp coming from your lips at the feeling of his fingers on your chin as he slowly brought your head back up to look at him again. You’d never touched him before outside of small side hugs of greetings or brief contact when passing him something.

Your eyes were shooting back towards the party with panic, worried what somebody would think if they saw you and your boyfriends best friend only inches away with his hand holding your face like you were something delicate and precious.

“He’ll be busy for a while.” Heeseung’s voice was somehow lower than it had been the first time he spoke as he halfway guessed what you were thinking, turning your head to the side softly.

“What are you doing?” You were breathing out the words in confusion, peering up at him with wide eyes as his thumb moved softly on your skin. He seemed unaffected by his own strange actions but you didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched every time you spoke to him in such a soft voice.

He was leaning towards you more and you pressed against the wall harder, if that was even possible. You could feel his hip bumping you now and his forehead was coming down to rest against yours, swallowing heavily at how close he was getting.

“Heeseung.” You were whispering, head spinning from the range of emotions you’d been put through in such a short time.

His eyes were squeezing shut as you said his name, a slightly pained look on his face as he pulled back and shook his head. You took in a deep breath now that he wasn’t touching you anymore but he was still closer to you than he’d ever been and you felt flips of nervousness underneath all the confusion.

“Let me drive you home.” He was saying eventually once he regained his composure and you raised an eyebrow. “More guys from the team showed up, you’ll just be sitting in the car.”

“Won’t that look weird? If I leave with you?” You were whispering back to him and he sucked in a slightly frustrated breath, wanting to help you out of your shitty situation.

Heeseung stayed silent for a second and you felt guilty for not immediately accepting his kind offer but you couldn’t help but think about how your boyfriend would react to the inevitable whisper that would get back to him, announcing you’d left the part with his best friend.

For a half a second you wondered if he’d care at all, not the same protective and caring boyfriend he had been a few years ago. Maybe he would be relieved that you weren’t his problem for the night anymore and he got to stay out as long as he pleased.

You were just about to accept Heeseung’s offer, the thought of the second scenario making your stomach turn more with desperation to leave, but he was suddenly stepping away from you completely and nodding his head.

He didn’t say anything else, not looking upset at you despite giving you a long stare that was full of guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place at the time. You watched him as he returned back to the party, sliding down the wall and sinking to the floor once he was turning the corner and out of sight.

——

You’d spent the whole day at work the next Monday thinking about what had happened, confused and guilty considering you hadn’t necessarily told the boy to get away from you.

It wasn’t like you’d never considered the fact that Heeseung was attractive. You’d actually met him before Jake, sitting next to him in a club you both had joined and striking up a smile filled conversation before your now boyfriend was stumbling into the classroom and demanding that they hurry to the cafeteria.

Heeseung had given you a sorry smile and made you a promise you’d still show up to the club next week despite his early exit, a handsome smirk on his face when you nodded earnestly at the idea of seeing him again.

And you did see him again, every single week you sat next to each other and talked about everything you could think of.

At some point you’d started to hang out outside the classroom and school as a whole, and that’s where you had officially met his friend that interrupted your first ever conversation all those months ago.

Jake had immediately been infatuated with you, always trying to steal your attention from his friend and openly flirting with you in a way you’d never experienced before. You’d never had a boyfriend or such a passionate suitor and eventually you and Jake started to hang out one on one.

Only once or twice had you considered the possibility that Heeseung had liked you too, retreating when he realized how his best friend seemed to feel about you.

You considered it late in bed some nights and then you would roll over and bury your face in your pillow, guilt eating away at you considering how much you loved your boyfriend and were happy together, at least at the time.

It’d been a few years since you’d thought about Heeseung as anything other than Jake’s friend and now you were getting that sick guilty feeling again as you remembered the way he had held your chin and looked down at you with such affection.

The sick feeling stayed as you finished work and made your way back to Jake’s apartment. You stayed there more than you did at the dorms and it was sort of an unspoken arrangement that you’d come there throughout the week, feeling perfectly at home as you used your own key to unlock the front door.

You immediately froze as you crossed into the threshold and your eyes fell on the boy on the couch, lazily sprawled across it as he watched TV with an uninterested gaze.

It wasn’t a rare sight for Heeseung to be there, almost constant at this point other than weekends but considering you’d spent the entire day thinking about him, you were slightly thrown off to see him in person.

His eyes were going over to you at the sound of the door creaking open and he smirked softly at your frozen frame, knowing exactly what you were thinking as you looked at him from the doorway.

“That you babe?” Jake was calling from somewhere down the hallway and you vaguely processed the fact the shower was running in the distance. You shifted awkwardly in place and closed the door behind you.

“Is it babe?” Heeseung was speaking now in a slightly mocking tone and you flushed bright red, glaring at him and storming past him towards your boyfriends room.

You were suddenly upset at him rather than feeling guilty, understanding that as much as you were Jake’s girlfriend, he was his best friend and the one to initiate the contact with you in the first place. He didn’t say anything as you stomped down the hallway to set your stuff down and he still didn’t speak when you were returning to the living room with crossed arms and a huffy expression.

He raised an eyebrow at you and lazily reached over to grab the remote and turn the TV off.

“What the fuck was that?” You rushed out, keeping your tone low in case Jake could somehow hear you over the loud sounds of the shower and his speaker playing his usual washing up playlist.

For a second you expected Heeseung to ignore you considering how long he took to respond but then he was surprising you and standing from the couch, immediately towering over you as you lost your resolve and uncrossed your arms.

He was taking a few steps in your direction and your mouth parted in surprise at the fact he was almost as close to you as he had been the night before, this time in an even more risky place considering Jake was only a few feet away and not the type of shower for longer than necessary.

“What if I said I was drunk?” He was whispering and peering down at you, gaze heavy and dark as you looked up at him.

You thought for a second before shaking your head at him and looking down at the floor for a second as you gathered your nerves enough to speak. “You weren’t I… I could smell your breath.”

He nodded at your words, a gentle look on his face despite the intensity of his stare and you felt his hand coming again. This time it stopped on your arm, running the tips of his fingers up and down in slight trails that caused you to take a breath and shiver.

“What if I told you I hate the way he treats you.” He was still whispering but he sounded more sure of himself now and you felt your heart drop and he confirmed what his intentions were. “That it drives me crazy knowing I let him have you just for him to take it for granted.”

You were shaking your head and gasping slightly, your hands coming up to try and take his touch away from you. He stopped you and held your arms gently by your elbows, leaving you to touch his biceps as you took a step backwards.

“Don’t say that.” You were rushing out in a hissed whisper, although your face lacked any anger as you looked at him with big sad eyes. “I love him.”

“He doesn’t love you.” He was immediately countering, almost like he didn’t mean to say it and your face was crumbling. Tears welled up in your eyes and he was quickly letting go of your arms so he could cup your face as he desperately kept talking. “I’m sorry Y/N but no one else is going to tell you and I can’t do this anymore. It’s impossible to be around you.”

He was softly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs and tilting your face up so you could look at him, leaning in closer as he watched you with a guilty expression.

It was too close and your heart was beating as it also broke at the confirmation that Jake wasn’t in love with you anymore. You had suspected it due to his behavior obviously but hearing it made you feel lightheaded, especially coming from the person he’d trust the most with that information.

Heeseung was leaning down and you could just barely feel his lips grazing over yours before you were pushing him away, snapping out of it and touching your mouth in panic with wide eyes. He stumbled back a few feet and looked at you with a hurt expression but nodded softly and didn’t try to approach you again.

The timing was in your favor considering only a few seconds later the shower was turning off and Jake was stepping out into the hallway with a towel around his waist, eyeing the two of you standing in the center of the room weirdly before asking why the TV had been turned off.

——

The following weekend you officially declined Jake’s offer to attend another party. You almost always did despite never wanting to and he tried to convince you like he did every single time, normally getting you to consign after a few pleads.

He seemed particularly agitated when you put your foot down and told him that under no circumstances would you be going and you hoped he’d have fun without you. He angrily responded that he would before hanging up the phone and leaving you to lay on your bed with the silence of your actions.

It’d been a week since Heeseung had almost kissed you and you’d been feeling the ghost of his touch every night since, along with the weight of what he had told you about your boyfriend.

You hadn’t mentioned it to anybody, especially not Jake but you couldn’t stop considering the possibilities of what this could mean for you. Jake liked having a girlfriend as far as you knew, somebody on his arm at parties and to appease his parents for the holidays, so you didn’t necessarily think he’d break up with you any time soon.

Maybe that’s what Heeseung had meant when he said nobody else was going to tell you and you wondered how many people knew how loveless your relationship was.

You’d been thinking yourself to death ever since the conversation happened and you were reaching your breaking point, eyes welling up with tears as your chest got tight and restricted. You shook your head and picked your phone up off your chest before you could think about it twice.

The call was picked up on the second ring and you could hear the loud sounds of music and laughter, an active party going on around the person on the other line and you immediately felt guilty for what you were about to say.

“Y/N?” Heeseung’s low voice sounded even deeper over the phone and you squeezed your eyes shut in nervousness. “You okay? Are you there?”

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds as you listened to the sound of his breathing, trying to sync yours and calm yourself down enough to be able to respond to him. You wondered if he could hear your stuttered gasp and inhales.

“Can you come over?” You eventually forced out in a tight voice, breaking into a small sob mid sentence that made his heart sink to his stomach.

At the party he was turning away from Jake so he could hear you better, watching as he laughed and leaned closer and closer to a girl that was on your rival schools cheerleading team. He was seconds from breaking them up or storming out before you had called and your boyfriend didn’t even bat an eye when he heard your name accidentally slip from his friends mouth in a worried tone.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

——

You had only lasted about 30 seconds after hanging up the phone before you were eaten alive with guilt and crying even harder.

For a second you questioned why you hadn’t even attempted to call Jake first, you knew he wouldn’t have answered you and if he did he certainly wouldn’t have left the party he’d just arrived to a few hours prior but it made you sick that you hadn’t even considered trying him before you instinctively were pressing Heeseung’s contact.

Not long after there was urgent knocks at your door, followed by softer ones immediately after that would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so upset. You were standing and opening the door to see a flustered Heeseung standing there.

“I was worried you fell asleep.” He was explaining his secondary knock and you just nodded, scanning his outfit.

He looked nice always but you realized you liked him best when he got ready for parties. He really knew how to dress himself and it was always interesting to see him after he carefully parted his hair, showing off his newly shaven undercut.

You felt out of place considering you were wearing pajama shorts and a large T-shirt that could potentially have been Jake’s in high school although you’d been using it as a sleep shirt for so long it definitely belonged to you now.

Heeseung’s expression fell at the sight of your swollen eyes and messy dorm room and you sighed, reaching forward to pull him softly out of the hallway so you could close the door behind him and avoid somebody seeing him awkwardly outside your room in the middle of the night.

“What happened?” He was whispering and you sat on the bed softly, watching him with glossy eyes until he sat beside you and turned his body so he could face you better as you started to talk.

“I just don’t want to think about it anymore.” Your voice was breaking and you shook your head again, feeling tears collecting under your chin. “My brain won’t shut off, I don’t know what to do.”

He was shifting forward as you broke down, kissing his teeth in upset and holding your face, similarly to the way he did last week. You were meeting his gaze and sniffling as he gently wiped your tears and for a second your eyes went down to his lips before immediately bouncing back up.

He didn’t miss the action but he didn’t acknowledge it yet, letting you calm down more and clear your head before he spoke again.

“Can I help you forget?” He was whispering as he looked at you and your stomach turned at the implications, his words heavy in the tensioned air as he watched you with doe like eyes. He seemed genuinely and earnest and you felt your heart break again, this time for different reasons.

You thought about pushing him away and demanding he leaves, telling him this was a mistake and you shouldn’t have called him at all in the first place. You knew he would leave immediately and try his best to not make you feel awkward the next time you saw each other so you’re not sure why you were so hesitant to do so.

Then you thought about Jake and you thought about the fact he was at a party right now, not bothering to ask why you didn’t want to attend and instead being angry and going alone. You thought about how he wouldn’t have answered your call, how he never did and how Heeseung had answered before it barely rang and made it to your dorms within ten minutes.

He didn’t demand a reason or complain you were taking him away from his friends, interrupting his weekend or making him feel guilty for having a social life.

He came to your side despite you avoiding him the entire week and he held you as you cried about the boy he had given you up for, being too good of a friend to deny Jake when he had begged for permission to take you out on a date before Heeseung got the courage to.

You thought about all this and then you thought about how you couldn’t stand thinking for another second, leaning forward and kissing Heeseung gently before you talked yourself out of it.

He was stiffening immediately in shock and you pulled away in fear of his reaction, thinking you had somehow read the situation wrong and he wasn’t expecting that out of tonight or his offer to help you. You were parting your lips to apologize to him when he was surging forward and cutting you off.

Kissing Heeseung felt different than kissing Jake and you flushed at the fact you were kissing somebody other than your boyfriend for the first time.

Where Jake was passionless and routine, Heeseung was desperate and clingy like he had been waiting to kiss you for his entire life. His hands were still on your cheeks and he kept pulling you in deeper like he was scared you were going to disappear.

You tried to reassure him by scooting closer to him on the bed, placing a hand over his as you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. He groaned softly into your mouth and you squealed as he was suddenly pulling you forward and off the bed, landing onto his lap as you tried to catch your balance.

His mouth was on your again before you could process the fact you were straddling him now and you tried to shut off your thoughts and kiss him, shuddering slightly at the feeling of his hands on your lower back.

“Hee.” You were muttering into his mouth and he pulled back slightly to look at you, panting with swollen lips and hooded eyes. His gaze was shooting all around your face like he was trying to believe you were actually here and doing this. “Get on the bed more.”

It took him a few seconds to unfreeze but eventually he was nodding and scooting backwards with you on top of him, stopping when his back hit the headboard as he waited for you to make another move.

And you did, taking a small breath before leaning forward to kiss him again. It was messier this time and you whined softly into his mouth, feeling his tongue against yours and one of his large hands coming up to hold the back of your head and keep you pressed tightly against him and his open mouth.

He stopped kissing you briefly to trail down your chin and neck, stopping at your collarbone as he left wet and sloppily kisses on your hot skin, drinking in the way you gasp and reached forward to clutch onto his arms.

You could feel his muscles flexing under your hands as he tried to restrain himself, one of his hands still in your hair as the other softly massaged your hip bone without him even meaning to.

“So pretty.” He was grunting against your neck and a shiver ran through you at how out of breath he sounded just from kissing you, you shook your head as you felt him bite down softly on your skin.

“No marks.” You whispered in a half pant and he lifted his head up to look at you, furrowing his eyebrows like he was slightly hurt by the suggestion. You didn’t say anything for a second and just looked at him, hands tightening around his thick arms. “We can’t Heeseung.”

You saying his name made his eyes soften and he nodded his head in agreement, understanding the situation was about to get extremely complicated and he didn’t want to add to the drama that was inevitably going to happen. You looked saddened again at the reminder of your boyfriend and he frowned, surging forward again to capture you in another heavy kiss.

You hummed in appreciation and accepted it immediately, leaning into him and moving a hand up so you could feel the way his jaw tensed at the feeling of your tongue pressing against his.

It wasn’t long before he was growing impatient from all the kissing and the feeling of you hovering over him in his lap, grabbing your waist with his large hands and flipping the both of you over like it was absolutely nothing. You squealed at the sudden movement and laughed softly at his neediness, eyes squinting as you did so.

He was hovering over you on his elbows, planking as he looked down at you with a small grin.

“God you’re so beautiful.” He was breathless as he said it and you flushed. Your hair was splayed out across the pillows as you smiled and he felt his heart beat in happiness despite the way his stomach was turning in anger, anger at missing out on you for so long and anger at Jake for hurting something as sweet as you.

“Don’t think about him.” You were whispering and touching his cheek, bringing him back to the moment as his eyes softened. “I’m here with you.”

His chest filled with pride at your words and he felt a wave of possessiveness over come him at the truth in your words, the fact you were currently laying underneath him and not anybody else. He was nodding at you before kissing you again softly.

You groaned into his mouth at the feeling and shifted underneath him, liking the way he immediately lowered his body down so he was pressing you into the mattress underneath his weight but still holding himself up enough so he didn’t hurt you.

The kiss was soft for a few minutes as you got used to the new position and the feeling of him on top of you but eventually you were feeling anticipation eating away at you and your stomach was lighting up with want and desperation for him to do something, anything more. You shifted again and whined softly into his mouth causing him to lean back slightly.

He saw the look in your eyes, the way your lips parted in a slight pant and he smirked slightly before kissing your cheek.

“Please.” You were whispering out in a half gasp and his gaze darkened now, your hand coming up to bunch up a chunk of his shirt in your shaking hands. “Heeseung please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, mesmerized by your soft voice begging for him to do something as he sat up off you slightly to pull his shirt over his head. You watched him as he did it and your stomach turned in arousal at the sight of his bare skin. You’d seen him shirtless countless times at pools or lounging around on a hot day but having him like this in this context made your body light up.

“Tell me what you need baby.” He was leaning back down to kiss you and push your hair from your face, his other hand going down to rest on your hip as he softly pushed your shirt up and rubbed at your exposed skin with his thumb. “Whatever you need, I’ll give you anything.”

You nodded at the idea of that and whined desperately, too overwhelmed to probably word what it was that you wanted from him. You shifted slightly again and rubbed a hand up his warm bare skin, slightly satisfied when he lowered himself down onto you again.

“Hee.” You gasped out at the feeling and you clenched his arm, nails digging into his skin when he was hard and fully pressed against you.

“I know baby I know.” He kissed you again finally and groaned into your open mouth. He was going crazy as you squirmed underneath him but he didn’t want to pressure you or suggest anything you’d agree with in a hazy state of lust, waiting for you to request something you knew you wanted.

You impatiently trailed a hand down towards his that was resting on your hip and you guided his upwards, gasping softly as he laid it over your ribs and could feel how hard your heart was pounding.

He watched you in curiosity for a second before softly moving it up even further, understanding from your small and desperate nod that you wanted him to take the shirt off completely. You sat up slightly so he could pull it up and off your body before flopping back against the bed and awkwardly looking at him, suddenly self conscious considering how bare you were.

“Fuck.” He was groaning out as he looked down at you, eyes transfixed on your chest as you took sharp breaths that caused your entire body to rise and fall. His large hand was moving forward and not wasting any time, aggressively groping you as he pressed his lower half harder against you.

You let out a small cry and shifted your legs so they were spread more, sitting on either side of his hips so he could be completely pressed against your core as he touched you so vulgarly.

“So fucking pretty, so sweet baby you should’ve been mine.” He was shaking his head in frustration as he spoke the weighted words, leaning down and kissing your chest softly but avoiding the sensitive places you were hoping he’d get to. “He could never deserve you, he doesn’t have the slightest idea what to do with all this.”

Despite not wanting to think about Jake or your relationship and having half the mind to tell him to stop mentioning it, you felt a wave of arousal at his possessive wording.

“What would you do if I was yours?” You rushed out and he looked up at you through his eyelashes from where he was still laying wet kisses on your body. He picked his head up slightly and shifted so he was closer to your face again, your nipples hardening up at the feeling of his bare chest pressed against his now.

“Never would’ve looked at him.” He was shaking his head as he looked down at you and you clutched his arm harder as he started to talk. “You never would’ve thought about anybody other than me babygirl I promise you, I’d have taken such good care of you.”

You were nodding and you felt slightly embarrassed by the tears springing to your eyes, the emotion immediately forgotten at your desperation and want for him to keep speaking to you.

“I know Hee, I know.” You gasped out and squeezed his arm. “Should’ve been you.”

He was pausing for a second, something you didn’t recognize passing through his face, before he was leaning down so he could kiss you again. It was slow and careful like he was trying to savor the moment again and you felt cared for due to his gentle approach.

You could feel him hard against you as he lowered himself completely again, shifting so you were pressed together even tighter and he throbbed and rocked softly forward into your core. Your legs were bending slightly so he had more access and your shorts bunched up on your thighs at the movement, almost all your skin available for him.

He took advantage of this as his large hands immediately went to your exposed legs, rubbing them up and down your warm thighs softly like he was really taking his time to explore and cherish every single inch of your body.

You felt another wave of affectionate wash over you underneath the complete desire that was dizzying your senses, understanding from his words that he had thought about this more than you had ever realized.

“I want you.” You were pleading into the kiss and he faltered for a second, big wide eyes hesitant and questioning as he waited for you to specify and confirm what he thought you were saying. “I want all of you Heeseung, please.”

He liked it when you said his name, he always had, even when it was something as simple as catching his attention because you were ordering food for everybody or calling him over in a crowd as he searched for you and Jake. He liked it most like this, he was quickly deciding, for more reasons than just how nice it sounded falling from your lips as you gasped and whined.

He liked hearing it like this because it was a direct acknowledgment that he was here with you and not Jake, not anybody else that could fulfill a meaningless rebound after you’d gotten your heart broken.

You’d chosen him this time and the way you said his name continuously, despite the fact you were slightly delirious with need and lust, kept him grounded in this fact as proof that you wanted him here.

“You want me to fuck you?” He was mumbling it as he kissed at your jaw, causing you to suck in a breath and wrap your arms around his warm back.

You were nodding repeatedly although he couldn’t see it now, mouth on your neck as you hooked your chin over his shoulder and kept making little cries as he rocked his hips against yours. You felt like you were going crazy and you wished you could gather your thoughts enough to tell him how good he was making you feel.

“I’ll fuck you like you belong to me.” He was muttering as he pulled back softly, laying your head back down before sitting up and helping you pull your shorts off. You cried out in complaint at the loss of contact but used the rest of your strength to attempt to pick your hips up and assist him.

“I do.” You whined out once he was laying back on top of you and you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss that was more so you trying to stick your tongue in his mouth as he watched you with an endeared expression. “I wanna.”

He’d thought about you like this more times than he’d ever admit, always feeling guilty every time you’d smile in his direction or peer up at him in question and his mind would immediately go to the image of you underneath him and panting for air like you were now.

He’d spent lots of nights wondering what you were like when you were being touched, wondering what you sounded like and if he could pull sounds from you that you didn’t even know you could make.

Jake would talk about you sometimes but he couldn’t find it in himself to listen despite his curiosity and fantasies, always going into a silent rage as he listened to your boyfriend talk about you like a piece of meat.

He was shushing you as you continued your mantra and repeated begs, exclamations about wanting to be his and little overwhelmed hiccups and he pressed himself against you again, this time with only his underwear separating you.

“Heeseung please.” You felt large tears rolling down your cheeks but you didn’t care, not feeling embarrassed despite your desperation showing.

“I know sweet girl, it’s okay.” His tone was gentle but the way he was rolling his hips into yours was anything but, constant slams of his clothed hard on against you as you scratched at the skin of his back. “I have to stretch you first baby.”

You were immediately shaking your head and he frowned softly, kissing underneath your eyes where your tears were collecting as you started to object his statement. “No need… just please.”

If you were in a clearer headspace you’d be saying differently considering the fact that you and Jake weren’t at the most sexually active point in your relationship and it had been a while since something had been properly inside of you, most likely needing the prep before anything.

Still, he couldn’t disagree with you upon hearing the urgency in your voice and you were thankful for that since you felt like if he wasn’t inside you in the next few minutes you’d just completely shut down.

“I’m bigger than Jake.” He was muttering as he shifted on top of you to push his boxers off. He wasn’t taking a dig at his friend intentionally, stating a fact for your own preparation but his lips quirked into a smirk when you let out a small laugh at his statement.

You whined softly at how slow he was going and he was immediately shushing you before leaning back down to kiss you, a hum of satisfaction vibrating your lips when he deepened it.

You could feel him pressing against you completely now and you shuddered, fighting the urge to break the kiss and looked down at him now that he was also completely naked with you. You didn’t want to stop kissing him however or get too overwhelmed too fast, knowing the sight of him entering you would drive you to your breaking point.

The feeling of him even slightly pushing in immediately had you stiffening up and sucking in a pained breath, understanding why he had warned you about his size just a few seconds ago.

“Shit I’m sorry.” He was groaning and shaking his head, stilling on top of you completely as he waited for you to say anything and let him know what he should do next. “I can pull out.”

You were quickly shaking your head and tightening your hold around his shoulders, happy he wasn’t complaining about the way your nails were tearing his skin. “No no don’t, it’s okay.”

“Just give me a second.” You were wincing and sucking in deep breaths, feeling slightly better when he dipped his head to kiss you softly. “Been a while.”

He was stiffening more as you said that. He knew Jake was still actively having sex considering he was his best friend and the subject to late night text of excited emojis and the thought of it being with somebody other than you made his stomach turn in disgust.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered when you felt him harden, misinterpreting his reaction as frustration for having to wait for you to get used to his size.

“What?” His attention was immediately back on you and he shook his head as he saw your saddened expression, leaning down to kiss you softly again and brush your hair from your sweaty face. “No baby not you, don’t say sorry.”

You nodded although not fully convinced and let him kiss you deeply for a few seconds, squeezing him tightly and rubbing his back a few times until you were ready for him to try and move.

When you finally gave him the go ahead he was slowly inching himself inside of you, being careful not to hurt you in any way while also gritting his teeth in an attempt to not just fully slam into you and get it over with. You were tight and wet around him and he swore under his breath and he laid his head down onto your shoulder.

Once he was fully inside you, you finally let out a breath that was immediately followed by a soft whine at how full you were, how deep he had managed to reach.

“Fuck.” He was shaking his head against your shoulder and you let out a small breathy laugh in agreement, understanding what he meant by the simple exclamation. “How are you so fucking tight?”

“Hee.” You were tapping his back and he picked his head up to look at you in question, eyebrows furrowed with a wild look in his eyes. You didn’t need to say anything, simply shifting underneath him and tightening your legs around his sides. He understood immediately and kissed you quickly before starting to move.

Your mouth was opening in a cry as he pulled out halfway before burying himself inside of you again, any pain you had felt from the stretch of him immediately being replaced with waves of pleasure and ecstasy.

You were driving him crazy with the sounds you were making and the way you were clenching around him, having half the mind to reach down and press down onto your stomach just so he could feel himself inside of you.

“Doing so good baby, my sweet girl.” His voice was raspy as he spoke the sweet words to you and your heart clenched again at his tone and words of endearment.

It didn’t completely miss you that he was treating you so gently, taking care of you in a way you hadn’t experienced in almost two years. Heeseung wasn’t just trying to fuck you, trying to help you forget your troubles and be done with it, he was making love to you.

“Feels too good.” You hiccuped out and he grunted with agreement, perfectly wrecking you as he kept fucking into you at a slow and deep pace. He was kissing you again but you were both in a haze of pleasure, mainly just breathing against each other.

You were rocking together as he fucked against you, doing almost all the work considering you were too overwhelmed to even form proper sentences. He felt perfect inside you and you were reaching your high sooner than you ever had, clutching on to him tightly as you tried to give him some warning.

He was nodding his head in understanding, feeling you get impossibly tight around him as you started to come undone with him still inside of you. For a second he was panicked thinking about your lack of protection before remembering that fact you were on birth control, having packed it as he watched when you went camping earlier this year.

He hoped you weren’t worrying about it either as he reached his finish seconds after you, wanting to assure you that he was clean and hadn’t been with anybody since he had met you.

Deciding against it, knowing it might just be too much for you to handle right now, he instead opted for rolling over slightly and pulling you with him so you were resting against his chest. He kissed you softly and rubbed your back like you had been doing to his the entire time you were touching.

You weren’t saying anything and he was suddenly worried that you would regret this as you left your sex driven haze.

“Y/N.” He was murmuring, trying not to spook you and you shifted your gaze so you could look him in the eyes hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

You were nodding but it obviously wasn’t the truth considering you immediately winced and laid back down on his chest, finding it easier to speak when he wasn’t watching you. “I know I shouldn’t be with him… but it still doesn’t make this right.”

Your words hung heavy in the air as you both fell into an uncomfortable silence, not expecting to talk about your current situation only a few seconds after you finished having sex with him. He felt slightly hurt by your statement but he also knew he should’ve expected such a talk and for you to feel guilty about being with him.

“It isn’t right but neither is the way he treats you. Plus, you know I won’t tell him if you don’t want me to.” He added the second part despite the crack he felt in his chest, knowing their was a chance you’d go back to Jake and let this remain your little secret.

“You have to tell him.” You were countering and the way your face vibrating when you spoke caused a tickle on his skin. “We have to.”

You said the words like they meant something important, picking up your head to look at his reaction even, but he wasn’t quite sure what you were insinuating, tilting his head as he stared at you and waited for you to explain what you wanted him to understand more clearly.

“We can tell him together.” You furthered your words and his stomach flipped with nerves. “Tell him about us.”

You stressed the word so there wasn’t any room for further confusion, clearly implying that you were seeking the same thing he was and you were open to trying things out with him after you officially ended things with Jake and convinced to him what you’d done.

He was breaking out into a wild smile and nodding his head in agreement, not even caring about the consequences of telling your boyfriend and his best friend, no doubt losing that connection. He’d seen it coming for a while now and as much as it saddened him to watch his friend mold into somebody unrecognizable, it was becoming unhealthy to stay his friends and enable his behavior.

You looked nervous at his lack of verbal response but you felt better when he pulled you back down into a kiss.