#oh god i really need to tag this and make sure i don’t miss any spoiler tags

[braisedhoney]

the fundamental problem

[buckymorelikefuckme]

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

What You Like

Marc Spector x F!Reader x Steven Grant • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets in his head about being with you, Steven talks him through it.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: There was a post about Marc talking Steven through his first time with reader, which I adored and couldn't stop thinking about. And then my brain went... but what if... the other way around? (I'm so sure I reblogged the post, or maybe it's in my queue, but I cannot for the life of me find it. Please if you know the one I'm talking about, let me know! I really would like to link it here. Also I'm so sorry I forgot who wrote it as well.)

Warnings: oral, fingering, so much swearing, some self loathing from Marc, I have used 'mate' far too much, as well as 'yeah?', kind of Marc being sort of into Steven talking to him, typos, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 2213

“She doesn’t like it so much like that, if you tilt your head to the side a little and-”

Marc snaps his eyes open and glares at Steven in the far-off mirror. “Fuck off.” He thinks hard, and Steven doesn’t have to hear him to read his expression.

“I’m just trying to help, mate.” He holds up his hands like all he had done is hold the door open for him or something. 

Marc glares harder, about to flip him off when you pull back from the kiss. 

“You okay?” 

Marc swallows, “Sorry, I, erm…” He hadn’t realised you’d noticed his distraction.

You smile at him and stroke his cheek. "You know, we don’t have to do anything,” you shift a little on the bed, giving him a fraction more space.

“No, no, that wasn’t…” he gives you a small smile in return and leans forward again to kiss you. “Steven, I need you to be quiet now, okay?” 

“I was just-”

“Steven.”

He tuts. “Okay, okay, I promise.” 

Marc inches a little closer, recovering the space you’d previously offered up. His thigh nudges against yours and you let out a little moan into his mouth as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip. 

He didn’t know why he felt so nervous, anxiety like eels swimming in his belly, you were Steven’s girlfriend (and technically, his now? Or was that too forward?) you’d been in this bed, with this body before. And strictly speaking, Marc had looked in on you and Steven a few times in more… intimate moments. Accidentally, of course. 

This should be fine. Practically second nature. 

He tries to clear his head, to be more in the moment, and runs his hands down your back as he presses closer, leaning into you slightly to urge you to lay back onto the mattress. 

You move with him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him against you. Parting your legs slightly so that he can situate himself between them. 

He nips lightly at your lip, licking softly but confidently into your mouth as he just grinds his hardening cock against your core. Oh, and your barely muffled moan is delicious, the way you dig your fingers into his shoulders makes his head spin, if-

“Oh, that’s a good move. She definitely likes that.” 

“Steven! For fuck’s sake! I trusted you to be quiet!” 

“Sorry!”

Marc tries not to let the interruption show, but he jumps a little when Steven speaks and it’s impossible for you to have missed it. A small thorn of anxiety settles in his chest, piercing between his ribs. 

“Kiss her neck, she really likes that.” 

“Steven-”

“I’m just giving helpful tips!” He can feel more than see Steven shrug his shoulders. “You’re the one without any game.”

“Without any game? I’ve got more game than you.” 

Steven sorts. “Unlikely. When’s the last time you got laid? God only knows. I, however, had sex this morning.” 

“Steven.” 

“Just saying.” 

“Yeah, well, I'm gonna be having sex in a minute, so shut up.”

There was a moment of blissful silence and Marc let out a breath of relief. 

You hooked your legs over his hips, urging him closer and bucking up so that you could grind against him. The heavy drag of his jeans sending sparks of pleasure along your spine. 

He slips his left hand down, sneaking the tips of his warm fingers under your top and stroking at the soft skin of your side. 

“She’s ticklish there.” 

“Steven-”

You can’t help but giggle a little, squirming away from his touch and breaking the kiss. “Sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m sorry, it’s just-”

“You’re ticklish.” Marc finishes and you nod smiling. 

“Sorry.” You mouth again. 

Marc shakes his head and smiles as he leans back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry.” He moves his hand away from your side. 

He’s barely pressed his lips against you for a second before Steven speaks again. “Told you.”

Marc inwardly grunts, rolling his eyes as he kisses along your jaw to your neck. He nips lightly at your skin, before sucking gently.

“Bit lower mate, that’s the spot.”

Marc scowled but followed the instruction, hatching onto the spot Steven suggested and you moan loudly, arching your back off the mattress. 

“See, she really likes that. Now if you just move your hand down and-”

Marc clenches his jaw instinctively, letting his frustration bubble over. Unfortunately, your neck is still between his teeth when they snap shut. 

You let out a little gasp of pain and Marc nearly blacks out from panic, instinctively moving to jerk backwards and away from you. But your arms tighten on his shoulders, your thighs clenching around his hips. 

You whimper and buck against him instantly. “Marc, fuck, please do that again.” 

He relaxes, tension easing out of his limbs as he growls faintly and does as you ask. 

“It’s okay mate, really. She’s not made of glass.” 

“Steven. I’m fucking gonna-”

“Hey,” Steven protested, “look, I don’t mind when you’re watching us go at it all the time, yeah?” 

Marc flushed. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And don’t think you’re being sneaky about it either. I can tell.” 

“I don’t mean to, it’s just…”

“Just what mate?” 

“It just… happens.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

Marc stays quiet, knowing that whatever he says won’t make him look good. He tries to ignore Steven, to just focus on you. To grind against you just right. But he could feel Steven hovering just in the background. 

You run your hands through Marc’s hair, pulling highly as you writhe under him and he can’t help but risk a sneaky look up at you, at how your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes closed in pleasure and…

Was it real? Or was it just for show? Did you always look like that when Steven…? He thinks back trying to recall the memories of watching in as much detail as possible. 

“Marc.” Steven’s voice is soft. 

But he doesn’t answer.

“Stop getting in your head about it, yeah? She’s here with you. She likes you. She wouldn’t pretend to be into something she doesn’t, ‘kay?” 

Marc swallows, trying to take Steven’s words on board and calm his quickly spiralling thoughts. 

But it doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right, it’s all stiff and unsettled. Like his joints are just a fraction out of place. 

You can tell. He’s so sure that you can tell. Even if you are moaning and writhing against him, you must know. Must sense it. How out of alignment he is. How much of a failure. 

“Steven?"

There’s a fraction of a pause before he answers. “Hmm?” 

“What does she like?”

He can feel Steven’s frown. 

“What does she like? What should I do? You were full of tips a second ago, don’t lea-”

“Move your hand down,” his voice is a little softer than before. Compassionate. And Marc knows his emotions have bled through. “Slower.” 

Marc slowly runs his hand down your body, careful not to tickle your side, stopping just short of the top button of your trousers. 

“Kiss lower on her neck, just above her collarbone... that’s it.”

Marc feels a little warm at the praise, giddy even. 

“And just start to undo her trousers, yeah?”

He flicks the top button open and you whine, bucking up against him. You urge his face up with your hands so you can kiss his lips and slide your tongue into his mouth. A deep shiver runs along Marc’s spine, forcing his hips to buck mindlessly. 

You pull back for a second, just to lift your top up and over your head before dropping it to the side and his breath catches in his throat. 

“Trousers.” 

Marc all but jumps despite the soft tone of Steven’s voice and he quickly snaps his eyes away from your skin to focus on undoing your pants.

You grin at his eagerness and help him by wiggling out of your trousers and kicking them off your feet. You kiss Marc’s neck, your hands moving desperately to his jeans. 

“Touch her.”

Marc lets out a little moan as you suck on his pulse point. “Wha-”

Marc’s left hand moves under Steven’s control, slipping his fingers under the elastic of your panties and pressing two thick fingers inside of your heat. 

You gasp in surprise, your thighs twitching at the sudden intrusion, shifting wider to allow him easier access. 

Steven strokes two fingers languidly against your walls for a second, enjoying the little tremors and flutters before placing his thumb on your clit. “Can you feel that?” 

Marc nods inwardly, “fuck.”

“See how wet she is?” 

“So fucking wet.” 

Steven smiles, continuing the long, slow strokes for a second before retreating back and leaving their hand once more completely under Marc’s control. He falters for half a second before he quickly resumes the tortuous pace set up by Steven. 

You gasp and whine, flinging your head back against the pillow as you arch up your hips towards him, trying to buck and urge him to move faster. 

“Go nice and slow… yeah… like that…” Steven whispers in his ear and there’s something strangely comforting about it, something exciting at having him there, right with him. 

Marc bites his bottom lips between his teeth, watching your face with rapt attention. 

“Nice slow circles and nice slow strokes.” 

“Slow circles.” He mutters under his breath, almost inaudible. He glides his fingers back and forth, barely leaving you before pushing back in, revelling in the sound of your wetness. 

You buck and whine, grabbing hold of his forearm like you were hanging onto a lifesaver. “Marc- ah, please!” Your words are cut off by desperate half choked sobs. 

He continues to circle your clit gently, barely allowing any pressure so that you can only just feel the slightly calloused glide of his thumb. Your thighs started to shake, your movements becoming sloppy. 

“Take her panties off completely, yeah? She’s gonna cum in a second, you’re gonna want to see.” 

Marc obeyed without thinking, using his free hand to pull them down and groaning softly when you lifted your hips as best you could to help him. 

Fuck you looked so pretty laid out all before him- before them. 

You moaned particularly needily, already looking fucked out of your head and Marc hissed, unable to stop himself as he hurriedly leant down and flicked his tongue along your clit. 

Your little high-pitched cry made him go light-headed. 

“Fuck, god yeah, give it to her.” Steven’s arousal bled into his own, making him dizzyingly high. “God, make her cum, make her cum in our mouth Marc, please.” 

“Marc, oh god, please!” You whine at almost the same moment, your and Steven’s voice blending together in a harmony that made Marc’s dick throb. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth for a moment before running board, flat licks over it, continuing his fingers slow pump as he brought you maddeningly close to the edge. 

Steven moaned loudly, “fuck Marc, please, please, need to taste her cum. Then we can fuck her together, yeah? She feels so good, she makes the best little noises,” he groaned again, “she tastes so sweet doesn’t she?” 

“So sweet,” Marc mumbled against your pussy as he kept moving, kept sucking and licking and practically humping the mattress with his eyes pinched tight in pleasure. 

“Marc,” you whimper and pull on his hair with your free hand, urging him on, “you’re so good at this, so good, ‘m gonna cum-”

“Fuck, Marc, yes.” 

He couldn’t help himself, simply couldn’t. Found himself opening his mouth and letting the words spill out before he had even registered them. “Steven’s here too.” 

“Oh shit!” You gasp, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm crashes into you, seizing your limbs in pleasure and whiting out your vision, before leaving you boneless and breathless. 

Marc stops moving slowly, trying to prolong your bliss for as long as possible. He bites his lip nervously as he sits up, your release and his spit covering the lower half of his face. Fuck, why had he said that, why had he gone and fucked this all up-

You smile up at him, still trailing your fingers through his thick curls. “Steven’s here too?” 

He nods as heat rises to his face. He stares down at your knee. 

“Look at her, mate.” 

He doesn’t move until you gently tilt his chin up with your hand. 

Your soft smile makes his heart ache. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispers. “Is that… okay? That he’s here?” 

You nod, your grin widening as you sit up and kiss him. It’s messy and deep, and Marc just melts into it. He whines against your lips as you wrap your arms around him, stroking your tongue with his own as you lick into his mouth. 

“Now, how about,” you say between kisses, your fingers tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt. “I get you out of these clothes and suck both of your dick.” You pause and pull a silly face at the odd-sounding, but technically correct singular use. 

Marc giggles and nuzzles into your neck. 

“Say yes mate!” 

“Yes please.” He mumbles as he sucks a love bite into your skin. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[spectersgf]

— beach getaway 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

pairing: harvey specter x reader

summary: the ocean treated you almost as well as he did. almost.

warnings: very fluffy, sigh. my speciality.

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: impulsive, silly, not planned or proofread. just wanted to write. just love the beach. just love harvey specter. listened to so much guilty as sin while writing. lord.

(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)

“Hello, Mr. Specter,” you answered the phone after seeing your boyfriend’s caller ID and contact picture flash on your phone. 

“Hello, Mrs. Specter.” You could hear the playful glint he had in his eye through the sound of his voice. “See, that’s funny because we aren’t married yet.”

“You really are a chronic joke repeater, aren’t you?”

“You love me for it.” Harvey was right – you did love him despite his repeated jokes. He never failed to make you giggle with this joke structure and he knew it. Hence why he never let it go. 

“If you say so, Harvey. How was your day?” you asked, settling on your hotel couch with your freshly made coffee – dash of vanilla, the way Harvey made it for you. You set the mug down on the side table, finger tracing the rim as you listened to your lover’s comforting voice come through the speaker of your phone.

“Oh, y’know. Closed a huge client, saved the world, looked hot doing it.” You couldnt hold back your giggle at his comment. This was a common way for Harvey to respond to your questions about his day, never giving details in the first insance, but never missing a chance to stroke his own ego. “Missed you the whole time, though.”

There was a very common misconception about him – about him being cold and stonehearted. Harvey was one of the biggest softies you’d ever met; he had immediately taken to you when you met 2 years ago and made sure to look out for you, even if he would playfully give you shit. You considered yourself extremely lucky to be let in to his softest and most vulnerable side and you never took it for granted, always ensuring he knew how much you appreciated his trust, and how much it was reciprocated. 

“I missed me, too. And Mike and Donna and Rachel. Even Louis.” You were teasing him and he knew it. Harvey could take it just as much as he could dish it out and it made for a wonderful dynamic between the two of you.

“Yeah, whatever. What did you do today, hm?”  You pouted thinking back on your Harvey-less day, knowing that you had missed him, too. You let out a deep, overly dramatic sigh before responding.

“Oh, y’know. Had a hotel nap, went for a walk on the beach during the sunset, looked hot doing it.” You smiled as you recounted your day in the same style as he did, despite your lingering sadness that he hadn’t joined you on your four-day beach getaway. “Wish you could’ve joined me.” Your pout had returned and Harvey could hear it in your voice.

Just as you went to pick up your mug and take a sip of your coffee, you heard the FaceTime tone come from your phone. You eagerly accepted, bouncing slightly at the thought of seeing your love’s face appear on your screen despite it only being a day since you’d seen him last.

All of your sadness melted away the second you saw him. A bright smile appeared on both of your faces, starry eyed and cheeks slightly flushed. 

“God,” he mumbled, “you’re so pretty.” Harvey’s hushed words made your cheeks flush deeper and you hid your face behind your coffee mug. “Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. The ocean has treated you so well already.”

He was right. You lived and worked in the city, but you needed a beachy getaway to keep you sane and happy. 

“The ocean treats me almost as well as you do,” you whispered, stroking your phone screen with a feather-light touch, heart hurting at the sight of your lover. He smiled in response but didn’t say anything. Harvey was notoriously bad at accepting compliments like this – one’s that complimented his vulnerable and soft side rather than the normal things like his looks or work ethic. “I wish you could’ve come with me. I miss you.”

“I know, baby. I miss you, too. But it won’t be long before you’re with me again, and we’ll do the next one together, abroad somewhere. Okay?”

You nodded your reply, nervous to speak from the threat of your tears falling in front of Harvey. You weren’t sure what had you so emotional, and you could see that it was upsetting Harvey to see you in this way.

“Will you at least stay while I get ready for bed?” You were speaking quietly, needlessly worried he’d reject your idea, craving his presence in your space and his arms around your frame.

“Of course I will. Always do.”

You busied yourself with putting your mug away and brushing your teeth to get ready for bed, you and Harvey engaging in a light and meaningless conversation. He kept joking with you and flirting with you as if you weren’t his long-term partner, and you welcomed the distraction. When you finally got into bed and tucked yourself in, Harvey had done the same. You both stayed on the phone with each other in your sleep, trying to mimic being in the same bed, even though you most certainly weren’t.

───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────

You were woken up by a firm knock on your hotel room door. The light was cracking in through the curtains and when you checked your phone, the time read 10:43am. You always allowed yourself a lie in when you weren’t in the city, and today was no different. You padded across to the door and checked the peephole, wanting to see who was at your door before you opened it. To your dismay, the person on the other side of the door had covered the peephole; you reluctantly opened the door, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

You heard his voice before you clocked that he was in your doorway. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Did someone ask for a wake-up call?” 

Harvey was in your hotel. At your door. Holding an overnight bag and his signature cheeky smile. Your heart swelled with joy and you immediately jumped into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, tears prickling at your eyes. 

“You’re here, why are you here, what are you doing here?” Your words were rushed and joined together frantically, eager to understand how your boyfriend was in your beachside hotel rather than his New York City corner office. 

“I missed you, you missed me. Here I am.” He was holding you up with one hand, the other hand in your hair and his bag dropped onto the floor.

You tucked your face into his neck, kissing the skin there lightly, your hand tangled in his hair. “I can’t believe you’re really here,” you whispered, scared to speak any louder in case he evaporated away and this moment was exposed as a dream.

He pulled your head gently out from it’s spot resting on his shoulder, stroking your cheek and still holding you close to him. He leaned in to you, kissing you soft and gentle, as if you’d break right there in his hands. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead on yours, still stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Believe it. You needed me, here I am. Now let me in and let’s go back to bad.”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

if you enjoyed, feel free to comment/reblog and send in requests! my asks are open! or send me a message! ok ily bye!

taglist: @shadowinthedarkknight @strawberriesareprettycool

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unwanted 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, insults, body insecurity, perversion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You're used to being unwanted, but a strange man might just convince you that's a good thing.

Note: this is a sequel to Unsolicited/Unexpected, but with a different reader. This is Lloyd's sequel. Peaches is flourishing somewhere else.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You keep behind your brother a he marches through the mall. If you walk beside Derrick, he’ll be sure to elbow you away and if you get ahead of him, he’ll think you’re trying to prove something. Anything but out of sight is incorrect. 

That’s the way it goes in your family. Your brother is the chosen one. He’s perfect, but you, you’re a disaster. You’re a nuisance. Unwanted. 

“God, stop dragging your feet,” he snarls over his shoulder. “If we’re late, I’m going to tell dad it’s your fault.” 

“I’m going,” you go faster but he easily outpaces you. 

“And if they’re out of stock, it’ll be your fault too,” he spits. “I don’t even know why they sent you with me. Probably to get a break from you.” 

Probably. You can’t disagree. Your parents are no more fond of you than your brother. No one really is. Who would be? You’re thirty and you still live at home. Pathetic. Useless. Everything they say is true. 

You’re out of breath as you enter the department store. It’s one of the upscale ones with the overpriced throw pillows and the store brand merchandise. Derrick turns left even as you glance right towards the beauty department. 

“Um, Derrick?” You shuffle after him. “I think the perfume is--” 

“Shut up,” he sneers. 

You obey. It’s easier to let him figure it out on his own, even if in the end, he’ll be mad at you for not telling him either. That’s just how it is. You can’t do anything right. 

He wanders through the men’s clothing and comes almost full circle before he finds the fragrance desk. He growls and you don’t miss the glare he sends in your direction. You linger behind once more as he steps up to the desk and slaps the bell. 

“Yo, anyone here work?” He hollers. 

You shrink down in embarrassment. If only you could make yourself small. You’ve never been that. Curvy at best, chunky some might say, fat in your mother’s words. 

“About time,” Derrick huffs as a woman in a black turtleneck appears behind the glass counter. “Yeah, I’m here to pick up a bottle of... hold on.” He takes out his phone and taps around, mumbling as he scrolls. “I just had it... where the fuck--” He sniffs in frustration, “what the fuck kind is it?” 

He turns to bark at you and you flinch. You glance around as other customers pause to look at his rising voice. You push your shoulders up and gulp. 

“White Ice,” you say. You can see the gleaming bottle your mother forbade you from ever touching. You never had the courage to tell her it stinks to high heavens. 

“Yeah, what she said,” he spins back. 

“Oh, well, I think we might have a few bottles. The holidays are a bit chaotic,” she chimes. 

“Whatever,” he mutters. 

He follows her to the end of the counter and around to the shelves. You stay where you are. The blend of scents is a bit too much, you don’t need to wade any closer. 

You busy yourself by perusing the promotional shelf of beauty samplers. Body spray, lip balms, even hand lotion. You lean in to figure out what those little metal containers are. 

“Damn, look at the dump truck on you,” a man chortles heartily at the disgusting remark as it leaves his lips. “That’s not a peach, that’s a damn three-tiered cake.” 

You don’t react. You tend to block out the general public. They often to the same to you. 

“Hey, sugar stack,” a hand falls onto the top of the shelf before you and you stand straight. You gape at the man who leans on one foot and smirks at you, “I’m talking to you, or can you not hear me over that extra cushion? You need me to push it outta the way?” 

“Excuse me,” you utter. “Do I... know you?” 

“Nah, but you can get to know me,” he snickers. “Gimme a hint, huh,” he wiggles his finger towards your coat, “does the balcony match the basement?” 

You stare at him dumbly. He can’t mean... that. It’s gross. Disgusting. And not very flattering. You know what he’s doing, he’s making fun of you. 

“No thanks,” you turn away and fold your arms. 

“Where’re ya goin’? I’m just gettin’ to know ya, baby?” He trails after you as you search around for your brother. “Come on, I know you don’t wanna go back to that jerk you were following around. Jackass barely looks at you, does he?” 

You shake your head and keep going. You stop as you see your brother. He has a bottle in his hand and a scowl on his face. Even he knows it isn’t the right perfume but the associate is doing her best to sell him the substitute. 

“Really? You’re gonna ditch me for that jackwad,” the stranger scoffs. 

“He’s my brother,” you mutter. 

“Ah, that explains it. Even better reason for you not to both. Come on. Let’s get outta here and you can rest those legs,” he grabs your arm and spins you back to him. “I even got a nice seat for you to sit on.” 

He licks two fingers and smooths his mustache. You curl your lip. Oh god. He has nice enough eyes and his hair is tidy, but the lines around his eyes and in his forehead give him about a decade on you at least. Besides, the way he talks is nasty.  

You might not have many options but nothing is sometimes better than anything. Not much more or less than what you already have. You shake your head, “no, thank you, sir.” 

You turn your back to him again and tug your arm away.  

“Sir? Oh, say it again, jello jugs,” he purrs, “I like the way those lips sound around it. Oh, wait, wait, try Lloyd. Yeah, I wanna hear you say my name--” 

“Stop,” you hurry away but he’s quick. “Please, leave me alone.” 

“You should be thanking me with a wide load like you got. I mean, look at me, sweet cheeks. I’m a ten. Eleven if we’re being honest about it,” he taunts. “You really wanna hang out with baby boy brother or you wanna go with a real man and see how he can make you shake--” 

“I said leave me alone,” you hiss over your shoulder. “Or my brother will tell you himself.” 

“Pfft, alright, sweetheart, you really think I’m afraid of that bitch boy?” He scoffs. “Fine, you go one, hide behind big brother. All alone. Unlicked.” 

You stop short and peek back at him. He sticks his tongue out lewdly and you shudder. You blink at him then twirl back to your course. 

You reach your brother as he snarls at the associate, “stop wasting my time. You either got it, or you don’t.” 

“I’m sorry, sir--” 

“Save it!” He puts his palm in her face and turns to you, “come on, let’s get outta here. Fuck. Dad’s gonna be pissed.” 

You move out of his way and let him go ahead. You scurry at his heels and keep your head down. That man looms, pretending to look at the perfume rollers. You ignore him as you wring your hands. 

He isn’t wrong. You don’t get much attention from men. None, actually. Yet, his isn’t welcome. His makes you feel worse somehow. Dirty. Wrong. 

You just want to forget about him. You’re certain you will soon enough. With the mood Derrick is in, your parents won’t be much better. 

[michaelsfavgirl]

he takes care of you when you're sick

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, Mike being husband material

Word Count: 500+

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: first hcs on this blog lets gooo

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

Oh boy, let’s get into it

Michael is very protective of you as it is

But when you’re sick Michael's protective instincts kick into overdrive (affectionately)

Doesn't care whether it's just a common cold or something miniscule

He’s immediately treating you like fragile porcelain

But god forbid If it's a fever or a more serious ailment, he's practically glued to your hip 24/7

Good luck getting any personal space during those times

He fusses over you constantly, asking if you need him to fetch you something, making sure you're comfortable

“Feeling any better, sweet girl?”

“Are you getting cold? Lemme just quickly grab your favorite blanket” 

This man can cook, okay? So expect him to whip up all kinds of soups to make you feel better.

Don't you even dare to disrespect him by opening the fridge and trying to make a meal for yourself

he won't hear of it

“Ah ah, none of that, don’t want my girl strainin herself for no reason” 

“Mike i just want to eat-” 

“shh, i’m here to take care of you, let’s get you back into bed hm? You go take a little nap while I make you something okay baby?” you nod defeatedly and take your ass back to bed 

Is very serious when it comes to taking medicine

Doesn't care if you say it tastes like dookie

You’re taking it, end of conversation

He’ll revoke your kisses and cuddles privileges if you don’t comply

He’s pretty cruel as you can tell 

But he’s so sweet afterwards, showering you with praise and kisses

“That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” He says and kisses your pout away 

Will 100% help you shower if you’re feeling weak 

Even when you're not sick, he enjoys doing domestic things with you; it makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside

Michael refuses to put any distance between you in bed, no matter how much you protest that he'll get sick too

This man looks at you like -_- ‘You think I care bout that?’

He'll wrap you securely in his arms and pull the sheets up to your neck

His huge hands gently caressing your skin and humming a soothing tune

As you start to feel better Michael feels a little guilty and selfish

 Of course he wants his precious angel to be healthy and all, but he really gets used to taking care of you so intimately very quickly and wishes it could go on a little longer

You have to remind him that y’all live together and spend most of your time in each other's presence.

It doesn’t get any closer than that but he’s still pouting like a baby, saying he’ll miss taking care of you

As if he doesn’t already do everything for you and spoil you rotten

This man will be the death of you…and you wouldn’t have it any other way <3

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @anivkye @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson

[hotluncheddie]

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington

part 2 | ao3

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car

‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.

Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it. 

Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.  

Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied. 

‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’ 

‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about. 

She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.

‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’

Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.

‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it. 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.

‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm. 

‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up. 

Robin just cackles.

‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself. 

Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’

9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen

Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for. 

The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch. 

He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence. 

‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side. 

Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.

The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.  

Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.

Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’ 

‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits. 

‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness. 

Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer. 

Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’ 

Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.

‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.

Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked. 

Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

10:54 January 3rd: Staircase

It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.

It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another,  mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.  

Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle. 

He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun. 

Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin. 

He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould. 

‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow. 

Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not? 

He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.

Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason. 

Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it. 

‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs 

Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.

He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.

The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves. 

He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later. 

‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder. 

Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.  

Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’ 

Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention. 

Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob. 

‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be. 

Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling. 

Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes. 

‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip. 

‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.

‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.

Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates. 

He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’ 

‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles. 

‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink. 

Steve can confess later. 

Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’

Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve. 

Steve feels his cheeks heat. 

‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away. 

Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following. 

He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen. 

11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen

People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile. 

He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch. 

Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting. 

Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room. 

But Steve saw his smile. 

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

part 2 | ao3

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now

lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)

[yoonzinuhh]

green light,kinktober special.

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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : jeonghan x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : purely smut

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : SMUT (18+ please !) reader has vagina. fingering. little begging. kinda car sex(drive safe people) let me know if i missed anything

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : this is purely fiction and i have no intentions in sexualising any idol. this is from my kinktober special. let me know if you want to be tagged for the rest ! reblogs are highly appreciated.

————————————————————————

legs spread wide,back pressed against the leather seat and some rnb song playing behind for almost a whole hour. this is pure torture.

well you knew teasing him with the tight dress that hugged all your pretty curves,dress slightly riding up your thighs during jun’s party would spice things up on the way home but this wasn’t what you really expected.

making you open your legs so wide making sure your dripping pussy was right in sight for him while he’s driving. he hasn’t even touched you a bit but you were practically dripping due to the ac air hitting your core,the smell of you taking up the whole car and his random but intense stares right between your legs while he was driving the car. and you,crazy.

“jeonghan..p-please”

“babe..can’t you see that i’m driving. i need to make sure my princess comes home safe right ?” he says with a smirk and you’re just whining.

it was too much for you. slowly snaking your hands down you touch your clit and making a whimper.

his head shots up to your direction.

“oh oh. what have i told you about touching something that’s mine huh ? you’ve already done enough by wearing that short ass dress and pushing your ass onto me every time there’s a chance babe..” he just chuckles.

“but..han..please pull up the car..j-just touch me” tears brimming. you just want to cum

“hmm wait until we get home love. you know i always make you feel good.” he does. he really knows how to make you feel good and that just makes you keep wanting for more. the way his mouth practically eats your face,the way his tongue works like magic on your core,the way his length finds your spot every damn time. he definitely knows.

staring at the signal light going red he slaps your pussy and you scream due to the sudden contact.

it felt good. not too hard for it to hurt but not too light that you don’t feel any pleasure. sliding his fingers up and down onto your wet folds,he slowly enters your gummy walls with his two pretty fingers and pecks your clit.

“you have time until the light goes green princess. make yourself come or..” he just smiles. him and his annoying ass smile.

you moan out. he’s being slow. and you know thats on purpose so he can make you beg for more,and well,not like you have any option.

“jeonghan please..please faster” you cry out,pushing your hips up to gain more friction so you can just cum.

“no rush y/n. you know i like it slow.” god he’s making you go crazy.

“hannie please make me cum please i’m..jeongh-“ you’re just saying out everything so he goes faster.

eyeing the signal number go 20..19..18..his mouth forms a O.

“since you’re being good”

he trails his finger over his clit. moving fast. little too fast. spreading it with one hand while the other just moving flat over your pussy.

the car was filled with moans,all sorts of noises you make from your mouth and down there. the signal number going lesser and he’s just moving faster.

you were so close and try to warn him but you couldn’t make out words due to how intense ir was. you just let it out closing your leg weakly. you were shaking so bad and it felt so good. so good to let it out after hours of torture.

3..2..1.. his fingers to his mouth for a couple of seconds then on to steering as if nothing happened while you were panting like you ran a marathon and trying to process whatever happened in the last 10 seconds.

it felt hot,you felt so hot with your juices ruining his seat just for him to pull up the car onto a parking out and removing his seat belt.

“we’re not yet done,love” he says signalling the back seat.

this ride is about to crazy for real.

[elvensorceress]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @diazsdimples @tizniz @fiona-fififi @daffi-990 @monsterrae1 @wikiangela @exhuastedpigeon @bidisasterbuckdiaz tags for anyone else who wants to share something or who might be interested in more of this 💕 @eddiebabygirldiaz @frenziedblaze @alec-1016 @watchyourbuck @zouisalmightie @bekkachaos @theotherbuckley @the-likesofus @emilybahu @jesuiscenseedormir @ebdaydreamer @lemonzestywrites @shortsighted-owl @chaosandwolves @wh0re-behavi0r @messyhairdiaz more of this 💕

Tommy squeezes Buck’s thigh and looks at him very intently. “I’m going to suggest something, and if you have any doubts at all, I want you to tell me no. Okay?”

“Uh, okay?” What sort of suggestions and what could Buck possibly doubt?

Tommy glances at the vacated seat across from them and in the direction of the bathrooms before looking back to Buck. He looks so cautious and careful. Like the night they first kissed. “If you wanted to, if you’re open to it, we could… make him an offer.” 

Buck blinks. “An offer?”

“To spend the night with us.” 

To— oh god. Any god. Every god. All the gods. “Like— you mean. Y-you mean?”

“Doesn’t have to be like that,” Tommy shakes his head. “It could be. But not if you’d worry about being left out or about you and me or how I feel about you. Okay? I wouldn’t want you to feel insecure or jealous. You’re important to me and I don’t want you to doubt that. I just— I think having him there, however we have him with us, might make you feel better. Might make him feel better, too.” 

It might. It might make Buck feel better. It probably would. Yeah. Definitely. Because the idea of Eddie going home alone tonight to an empty house— because Buck knows Chris is staying with one of his friends tonight— the idea of Eddie being alone with too many tormented, angry, wound up thoughts, Buck absolutely hates that. 

They could invite Eddie back with them. 

They could invite Eddie back with them.

Except— “Eddie’s not— I-I mean. Eddie is— he’s straight.” 

Tommy snorts a laugh and smiles at Buck like Buck is somehow being dumb. “Eddie’s not straight.”

Buck does nothing but turn into a human turning signal, blinking, blinking, endlessly blinking. “Uh, yeah he is?” It doesn’t sound sure. It should because— “Did he tell you something? Did he come out to you? Did something happen? Why would he tell you and not me?”

Tommy’s eyes widen slightly and he does that calming rubbing thing on Buck’s thigh again. “Baby, he didn’t say anything to me. He didn’t have to. And maybe I’m wrong? But I really doubt it.”

“But,” Buck says and it can’t be true. It’s not true. Buck knows Eddie. If Buck knows nothing else, he knows Eddie. “He had a wife. And two girlfriends. Nothing else.”

Tommy raises his eyebrow and gives him a strange look. “And you’d only ever been with women before I kissed you. How is it different?”

Because. It is? Eddie isn’t— he can’t be. 

Could he be?

Is Eddie into men? Could that be something that’s been missing for him, too? Could someone kiss him and turn his whole world into technicolor Land of Oz because he’s never considered his feelings might be legit attraction to men? Maybe he has all sorts of feelings but has never been able to fully understand what they are and what they mean? Maybe it is something Eddie needs, too? 

Is Eddie into men? Is he into men? Is he? 

Eddie returns and sits down across from them and looks like there are drops of water, probably cool water, on his face and neck. He picks up his phone that he’d left lying on the table and doesn’t even look up to acknowledge them. 

He hasn’t actually looked at them all night. Not for more than a split second, accidental glancing at the sun sort of thing. 

Holy shit. Maybe that’s the thing. Maybe Eddie is into men and didn’t know it before because why wouldn’t he be into Tommy?

[miscling]

about this miscellaneous changeling (v4)

This is a horny blog for horny blog things. Please don't interact if you're a minor/under 18, go away, shoo! if you follow, make sure to have some indication of your age in your bio or pinned (it doesn't need to be exact, just something to make it clear). you will be blocked if you don't and you'll miss out on *gestures at itself* all this.

this thing is a miscling, a miscellaneous changeling. it is a fae creature that is a doll, drone, kitty, mama, little (little posts are @littlefaefae), and toy. it is a plaything first and foremost, and a filthy kinky subby thing that is a really really really fun to play with. it is super positive about kink. it loves to play, have adventures, and meet others. it is an excellent plaything, subject, submissive, and pet. this thing is a good girl who loves being played with, loves being obedient, loves being controlled, and loves showing off its body.

it enjoys getting to know others. it enjoys playing with others. it enjoys belonging to others. it enjoys a lot of different kinks with a lot of different dynamics. it enjoys a lot of hypnokink, a lot of bondage, a lot of masochism, a lot of petplay, a lot of degredation, a lot of praise, a lot of caregiving, and a lot of orgasm control. if it involves sensory play, deep subspaces, and submission, then this thing likely loves it. you can always ask about specific kinks!

this blog is all about kink. this thing loves kink. it talks about kink, it writes about kink, it does kink, and it has so many kinks. you'll find posts about kink here: theory, fantasies, practice, and community. it posts about its own playtimes, loves to show off with selfies, answers asks, and reblogs posts it finds hot. it loves getting and answering asks, so don't be afraid to send it some! send it questions, fantasies, secrets, lies, teasing, and a little flirting.

this thing is also trans, queer, autistic, ADHD, poly, and non-human. it is a trans woman, it has a neo-cunt. it wants to get to know others who are like it, especially if you are in the UK like this thing - it really enjoys meeting its mutuals in real life!

it loves this blog so much, and it hopes you will love it too!

below the cut: tags for finding stuff and its limits! (updated for v4!)

Limits and boundaries:

this thing is poly, it has a nest partner, it has multiple play partners, it is not looking for anything monogamous or exclusive.

it does not like misogyny, transphobia, racism, nationalism, or bigotry. this applies to kink as well. before any negotiated dynamic, we are equal.

this thing wants to be owned and wants to belong to others, it is submissive by default, but it is not yours until it gives itself to you.

it enjoys hard kinks, but this toy must be treated with care and respect. if you can't look after this toy, you can't play with it.

it holds consent as the baseline for any engagement of kink and must be respected. consent can be revoked at any time for any reason, by anyone involved.

Tags it uses:

posts about this thing: About Miscling

Pics of this thing: Miscling Appears. (go on a reblog and liking spree!)

original posts: Miscling Rambles

posts about lactation: Miscling Lactates

this thing's polls: Miscling Polls

hear its voice: Miscling Speaks and its soundgasm page!

see tasks it has done: miscling tasks! If you like or follow its blog, think about sending it a task as a little gift!

read about its play: Miscling Plays

read stories it wrote: Miscling Writes.

Use its ask box: ask meme and miscling answers (scroll the ask meme tag and use any meme you like, but copy in the questions or link the meme!)

throne wishlist!

ko-fi link! (please don't reference anything nsfw on kofi if you use this)

its kink tags: mommysub for posts about being a mommysub, goddess thoughts for religionplay where i'm a subby goddess, Bind Miscling for bondage, hit me for masochism, moo for hucow things, lee mood for tickling, oh my circuits for robot/drone things, maid day for maids, tidy up tuesday for my maid day, monsterling for monsterfucking posts, hypno gif, spiral, hypno txt, and hypnaudio, for hypno play, and hypnoslut for general hypno posts, preyling for primal play, latexcellent for rubberwear. same tbh, !, and ^^ will tell you a lot about the things it likes too.

this thing is a toy for others to enjoy!

(Most tasks recieved and completed in one day: 18) (Most tasks recieved on a special occasion: 48)

ASK TASKS: OPEN

use this thing's ask box to send it tasks to do! everyday tasks give it things to do that are simple and easy: if you want to torment this thing, here are the tasks for that!

choose one or more task emoji, but keep tasks short please!

tasks can come from anyone, even anons!

it will do tasks as soon as it can!

Mutuals can DM, and if it is available we can play!

Suggest something if you'd like!

EVERYDAY TASK LIST!

✏️ give it something to write and tell it where to write it on its body! 💖 make it draw a little heart on itself where you tell it! 🌻 make it write a post about anything that's on its mind at the moment! 🗣️ ask it anything, name a kink or give it a topic to write about (kinky or otherwise) and it'll write a post about it. 🔊 send it a post or write something for it to record saying, and it'll post the recording. ❌ make it go take a break outside for 5 mins!

TORMENT THIS THING!

🗜️ make it wear nipple clamps for 10 minutes! ⚡ choose a part of it and make it use its TENS unit there for 10 mins. 🤐 choose a gag and make it gag itself for half an hour! 👗 make it get undressed and be naked for the next 30 mins! 👣 have elastic bands snapped on its feet 10 times! 🖐️ get hit 10 times with an implement of your choice! 🪢 tell it to go play with its rope and post some pics! 😵‍💫 make it repeat a mantra while staring at a spiral (you can use its mantra tag for ideas and spiral tag for ideas.)

[ntonlvr]

Can't Help Myself Falling Endlessly 3-4?

synopsis: sohee decides to throw a party. anton and y/n continue to sneak around..

what could possibly happen next..stay tuned

word count: 7.5k>

status: 4/? (this 2 chapters in one)

content warning: explicit sexual content, oral (fem and male receiving), drunk sex, slight mutual masturbation (?), idk what else to tag lmaoo

please leave feedback :)

The morning sun filtered through your curtains, casting a gentle glow over your room as you stretched, thoughts of last night with Anton lingering in your mind. His kiss, the way his hands felt on you, replayed vividly. You reach for your phone and settle back into bed, the cool sheets enveloping you. With a giddy excitement, you prepare to spill everything to your online besties, Taro and Sung. 

You’d been friends with them for years, bonding over shared interests and countless late-night conversations. They were all well aware of your history with Anton–a childhood friend with whom you’d recently felt a growing connection beyond mere friendship. Whenever you needed advice or just a sympathetic ear, they were always there. 

Just as you were about to text them, Sohee’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Hey, Y/N,  are you up? I need your help please!” Rolling your eyes, you chose to ignore him for the moment, fingers quickly tapping across the screen.

TEXTING CYBER BULLIES:

y/n: good morning :) guess whos filling my mind this morning …

taro: hmm anton 👀

sung: yeah, i second that. it has to be anton 

You grinned at their responses, fingers flying over the keyboard as you recounted last night's movie night. The way you were both snuggled up sharing light touches before the moment turned into something more. 

y/n: you won’t believe what happened last night 

taro: ooh ?? pls tell

sung: spill right now

y/n: well last night anton came over for a movie night, right. well we had a few shots of soju and we ended up kissing,, but like more heated …

taro: WAIT what!? i thought you guys were just friends!! did i miss a chapter 

sung: no stupid. that’s the news. BUT Y/N WE NEED MORE INFO NEOW.

sung: we know you had a fat crush on this man, but never expected you to actually do anything about it..

y/n: hey- i would’ve done something about it

y/n: i would like the jury to know that i did in fact make the first move

taro: and when you say the kissing got heated? what do you mean by that

y/n: um we might’ve felt each other up. and he definitely kissed me elsewhere.. you get the picture

sung: oh we will be facetiming later to discuss more details. you aren’t getting out of that

taro: yeah for sure. but how are you feeling? what are you gonna do??

y/n: well we agreed to keep it a secret for now, just so we can figure out our feelings for real. and how to break it to sohee if we progress further.

sung: SOHEE DOESN’T KNOW ?? DUDE 

y/n: hey remember when i said “we agreed to keep it a secret” OF COURSE SOHEE DOESN’T KNOW STUPID.

sung: well was it just heated kissing? if so i don’t think there’s any harm in that.

y/n: about that heheh…

taro: y/n i swear to god,, what else are you hiding from us .

y/n: after he left last night, we were texting- actually let me send a screenshot of our texts

y/n: *screenshot*

sung: .. no freaking way .. Y/N HE SNUCK OVER AFTER HE LEFT FOR THE NIGHT ..oh he’s got it bad for you

taro: oh 0.0 “i would love to feel you right now” you’re actually insane for that (i love it)

y/n: um so he did in fact sneak over. let’s just say a man can please and ya girl can please.

taro: and sohee had no idea anton came back over last night? girl you are so in the clear right now

sung: this is some next-level drama. i am living for this BUT how are you keeping this a secret?

y/n: idk 😭 that’s the hard part. we don’t really get a lot of 1:1 time because of sohee

taro: hmm maybe you can both sneak away tn since sohee’s throwing a party

y/n: how do you know he- stalker

sung: taro quit stalking sohee’s socials

taro: i like to know things, okay 

y/n: but taro does have a point. there will be enough people around so anton and i can have some alone time

taro: im living for the secret rendezvous with you and anton. so what’s the next move?

y/n:  i want to look good tonight. idk the thought of looking so good in front of anton when he has to act normal is making me go crazy

taro: you already know i support. pls send outfit ideas

As you laughed at their playful encouragement, Sohee called again, louder this time, “Y/N! Seriously, come help me. I know you’re up, I can hear you laughing.” You smirked and typed one last message.

y/n: i will!! i gotta go before sohee loses it -.-

You head downstairs and grab a cup of coffee to kickstart your day. Sohee enters, carrying a box of lights and other decorations. 

“Finally! I thought you were trying to skip out on helping me,” Sohee says, placing the box next to you. 

“I don’t get why we need all these lights. We already have lights in the backyard,” you reply, eyeing the tangled mess.

“Yeah, but these are way better. Anyway, I did have something I wanted to talk to you about last night,” he begins, leaning against the counter with a more serious expression.

Your heart skips a beat, and a wave of anxiety washes over you. “What about it?”

Sohee sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I noticed something weird when I joined you both for that movie last night. Like something with Anton,” he says, his tone filled with curiosity. “Anton seemed kind of off, like he was distracted.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you struggle to maintain a calm facade. “Distracted? What do you mean?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the slight tremor in your voice betrays you.

Sohee pours himself some coffee, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know, just a feeling. He was quieter than usual. Maybe he’s got something on his mind.”

You force a laugh, relieved that Sohee hasn’t pieced anything together. “Yeah, he’s been stressed about work lately. Probably just that.”

Sohee shrugs, seemingly satisfied with your explanation. “Makes sense. Anyway, let’s get these decorations up. The party won’t set itself up.”

You nod, the tension easing as you both start untangling the lights. The relief washes over you, knowing that your secret is still safe for now.

The morning flew by in a whirlwind of party preparations with Sohee. As you helped him hang lights and arrange decorations, your mind kept drifting back to Anton and what the evening might bring. Around midday, while you were putting the final touches in place, Sohee’s phone began buzzing loudly. 

“Sohee, could you please pass me another hook so these lights stop falling?” you called out.

“Sorry, I’m actually going to head out and grab drinks for tonight,” Sohee replied, already reaching for his keys. “Do you mind holding the fort down while I’m gone?”

“Can’t you grab me a hook before you leave?” you retorted, frustration evident in your voice. 

“Well, I’m already out the door, Sorry, I’ll be back in a little while,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“What an ass,” you mutter to yourself. Did he really just leave you to finish setting up for a party he wanted to throw? “Whatever,” you thought. “I’ll wrap this up and then get ready for tonight.”

In your room, you laid out your chosen outfit on your bed and took a shower to refresh yourself. The warm water helped relax your nerves, and you spent extra time carefully styling your hair into loose waves that frame your face effortlessly. 

Unlocking your phone, you started a FaceTime call with Taro and Sung to get their opinion on your fit for the night. 

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?” Taro greeted you enthusiastically as his face appeared on the screen. 

“I need your fashion advice,” you said with a grin, “I already chose this dress, but I have another option in case the jury doesn’t like it.”

Sung leaned forward, curious. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You set your phone up, and backed away from the camera, displaying the dress you had on. A skimpy sundress in a pastel floral print that hugged your curves in all the right places. “Okay, this is the first option. A personal favorite,” you explained, giving a playful twirl to show it off. 

Taro’s eyes widened with approval. “Wow, Y/N you look hot in that dress. It really compliments you so well.”

Sung nods in agreement. “Definitely. It’s perfect for tonight. Anton won’t be able to take his eyes, and maybe even his hands off you.”

Before you could grab the second outfit, Taro exclaimed, “We don’t even need to see the other one. This is perfect!

Sung nodded in agreement. “Yeah, seriously. Anton won’t be able to resist you in that.”

You laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Taro said confidently.

“Totally,” Sung added with a grin.

The thrill of teasing Anton added an extra layer of excitement to the night. You couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he sees you. Taro and Sung could sense your anticipation and share in your excitement. 

“We can’t wait to hear how this plays out for you,” Taro said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah, keep us updated,” Sung added. “This is going to be so much fun.”

You smiled, feeling more confident than ever. “Thanks, guys. I’ll let you know how it goes. Tonight is going to be good.”

“Sorry guys, hold on a sec,” you apologize, tapping the screen to switch over to Sohee’s call. The image shifts to a chaotic scene in Sohee’s car, packed with shopping bags brimming with bottles of various liquors.

“Sohee, what’s all this?” you laugh, eyeing the assortment of drinks.

Sohee grins mischievously. “I figured we needed a little something extra for tonight. And look who I found on the way back,” he gestures towards Anton, who waves from the passenger seat, a shy smile on his face. 

Anton leans into the camera view, his voice tinged with humor. “Hey, Y/N. Sohee decided to kidnap me for the cause.”

You chuckle at them, feeling a surge of excitement for the night ahead. “Well, looks like we’re all set then. Thanks, Sohee. See you both soon.” With a wave goodbye, you switch back to Taro and Sung, who are grinning at the unexpected interruption. “Okay, I gotta go, babes. I’m pretty sure Sohee is close to being back and is gonna need help with everything.”

Taro laughed. “Good luck! And remember, we need all the juicy details later.”

“Yeah, and don’t leave anything out!” Sung added.

You smiled, feeling a renewed sense of confidence. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the full scoop. Talk to you later.”

The evening air was thick with anticipation as Sohee’s car pulled up to the front of the house. Anton stepped out first, followed closely by Sohee, who was balancing the bags of goodies with practiced ease. They exchanged knowing glances, both fully aware of the surprise that was about to unfold.

You descended the stairs, your presence catching Anton’s attention almost immediately. Anton’s breath caught in his throat as he beheld you in the sundress, the soft pastels playing against your skin like a delicate watercolor. His gaze traced the curve of your waist, the gentle flow of the fabric over your figure, and the way the dress seemed to illuminate you with a subtle radiance.

At that moment, time seemed to slow for Anton. He couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly you wore confidence like a second skin, how every movement you made seemed to carry a quiet grace that captivated him anew. Thoughts raced through his mind, a whirlwind of admiration and desire intertwined. 

“Wow,” Anton managed to whisper, the word escaping his lips almost involuntarily. His heart hammered in his chest, a mixture of awe and a deeper, more profound feeling stirring within him. He found himself unable to look away, wanting to etch this moment into his memory. 

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, your smile brightened at the sight of Anton. You could sense his reaction, the unspoken admiration that hung in the air like a delicate thread. It was a moment suspended in time, where words seemed unnecessary amidst the unspoken language of glances and smiles. 

You joined Sohee and Anton as they gathered the remaining supplies from the car. The back seat was filled with bags from different stores, and a variety of beverages. Anton began to unload them while you and Sohee carried them inside. 

“How was the store?” you asked, breaking the silence as they maneuvered through the hallway. 

Anton glanced at you, trying to keep his focus on the task at hand. “It was alright. Sohee managed to get all the best deals.”

Sohee nodded in agreement, setting down his load on the kitchen counter. “Definitely, I know what I’m doing. Thanks for helping us by the way.”

You smiled warmly, “Of course, I’m happy to help.”

As they continued unpacking, you reached to grab a big bowl from the top shelf, inadvertently lifting the hem of your dress just enough to expose the bottom of your ass. Anton’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected glimpse, his cheeks flushing as he looked away, trying to maintain composure. You bit your lip, suppressing a smile at his reaction before bending over to now retrieve something you didn’t even need, knowing full well you were testing Anton’s self-control at this point.

As they unpacked the bags, Y/N noticed Anton stealing glances at you from time to time. You couldn’t resist a playful tease. Setting down a bottle, you turned towards Anton. “Enjoying the view?” you ask in a low whisper.

Anton’s cheeks flushed slightly, caught off guard by your directness. He chuckled nervously, trying to play it cool. “Uh, maybe a little,” he admitted with a shy smile. 

Y/N tilted her head, pretending to ponder. “Well, I guess that’s a compliment,” she replied, her eyes sparking mischievously.

As they continued unpacking, you reached to grab a big bowl from the top shelf, inadvertently lifting the hem of your dress just enough to expose the bottom of your ass. Anton’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected glimpse, his cheeks flushing as he looked away, trying to maintain composure. You bit your lip, suppressing a smile at his reaction before bending over to now retrieve something you didn’t even need, knowing full well you were testing Anton’s self-control at this point.

Anton shifted his position, feeling the tension between them growing more palpable with each playful gesture. 

“So, Anton,” Sohee called from the other side of the kitchen, oblivious to the teasing. “Can you check if we have enough mixers?”

“Uh, sure,” Anton replied, his voice a bit strained. He moved to the pantry, grateful for the temporary distraction. As he rummaged through the shelves, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Y/N, who was now leaning over the counter, her movements slow and deliberate.

You straightened up, catching Anton’s eye once more. She walked over to him, your smile innocent but your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Need any help in there?” she asked sweetly, standing just a bit too close. 

Anton took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “I think I’ve got it, thanks,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

As you reached for a bottle on the shelf next to Anton, you subtly grazed his side, your touch light and seemingly accidental but enough to send a shiver through Anton. He tensed, trying to remain composed as the playful gesture heightened the already charged atmosphere between them, 

“Sohee,” you called over your shoulder, your tone light and playful, “do we have enough glasses for the drinks?”

Sohee nodded, still focused on his own task. “Yeah, they should be in the cabinet above the sink.”

You turned back to Anton, giving him a final teasing smile before moving away to fetch the glasses. Anton exhaled slowly, his mind racing with thoughts of you and your playful antics. He knew the evening was only just beginning, and he had a feeling your teasing was far from over.

With Sohee bustling in the kitchen, organizing the drinks and setting out other necessities, you seized the opportunity to steak a moment alone with Anton. You flashes him a smile, a silent invitation to join you in a corner of the living room away from Sohee.

Anton hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Sohee to ensure he wouldn’t notice their brief absence. Then, unable to resist your playful allure, he followed you to the secluded corner. 

You leaned against the wall, your eyes glinting with mischief as you watched Anton approach. “Finally, some peace and quiet,” you murmured, your voice soft and inviting. 

Anton nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Yeah, it’s been a little hectic in there,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you.

You took a step closer, your proximity sending a shiver down Anton’s spine. “I noticed you’ve been a bit distracted,”  you teased, your fingers lightly brushing his arm.

Anton swallowed hard, the touch of your fingers sending a wave of warmth through him. “It’s hard not to be,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your smile widened, pleased by his honesty. “Good to know I have that effect on you,” you said, your tone playful yet sincere. You leaned in, your lips just inches from his ear. “You know, you’re making it very hard for me to focus on anything else.”

Anton’s heart raced, the intimacy of the moment almost overwhelming. “You’re not making it easy for me either,” he confessed, his breath hitching. 

You chuckled softly, your breath warm against his skin. “Maybe that’s the point,” she whispered, your lips brushing against his ear ever so slightly.

"Imagine what else I could do if we were alone... just the two of us."

Before you could pull back, Anton’s hands were on you, unable to resist any longer. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. “You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

You shivered at his touch, a pleased smile playing on your lips. “You can’t seem to take your hands off me, can you?” you teased, your tone light but your eyes dark with invitation. 

“Can you blame me?” Anton replied, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you even closer. “You look absolutely stunning tonight. I can’t resist touching you.”

“Good to know,” you whispered back, enjoying the way his touch sent waves of heat through you. “But we can’t stay hidden forever. Sohee will start wondering where we went.”

Anton was about to respond, to the close distance between you, when Sohee’s voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Hey, Anton! Can you give me a hand with these coolers? They're too heavy for me to lift alone."

Anton groaned inwardly, the moment shattered by the interruption. He pulled back reluctantly, glancing at you, who wore an amused expression. "Duty calls," you said with a wink, clearly enjoying the effect you had on him.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Anton called back to Sohee, his voice tinged with frustration.

Moments later, you both joined Sohee in welcoming their friends, the atmosphere quickly filling with lively chatter and music. The front door swung open repeatedly as guests arrived, bringing with them bursts of laughter and clinking of bottles. Sohee, in his element, floated around the room and backyard, ensuring everyone had a drink and was having a good time. 

As the night progressed, you found yourself standing at the makeshift bard in the backyard. You leaned over to grab a pop from the lower shelf, your dress riding up slightly. Anton’s breath hitched instinctively reaching out to steady you, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin.

“You really can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” you whispered, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you straightened up, holding the can of pop.

Anton’s eyes darkened, his voice low as he replied, “You’re impossible to resist. I told you.”

Before you could respond, a group of friends approached them, breaking the intimate moment. You both plastered on friendly smiles, engaging in casual conversation, but the tension between you remained palpable.

As the party buzzed with energy, music thumped and laughter filled the air. Anton leaned in, whispering to you, “Wanna get out of here?”

You shared a smirk and began weaving your way through the crowd, aiming for upstairs. Just as you reached the stairs, Sohee, visibly tipsy, intercepted you, swaying slightly.

“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” he asked, his words slurring a bit. “You aren’t leaving, are you?”

You and Anton exchanged a look, their escape thwarted. “Uh, just going to get more drinks. Looks like we’re running low,” you replied, trying to act natural.

Sohee grinned. “Perfect! That’s what I was going to ask you both to do. It’s like you read my mind.”

“Yeah, of course, Sohee,” Anton replied, chuckling. “Anything for you.”

Sohee beamed. “You guys are the best!” I’ll make sure the party doesn’t die while you’re gone.”

As the car hummed down the road, the city lights flickering past, Anton’s hand found its way to your thigh, tracing soft patterns with his fingertips. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

“Can’t believe Sohee actually sent us on a beer run,” you chuckled, stealing a glance at Anton.

He smirked, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.” His hand slid higher, a teasing warmth spreading through your body. 

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise within you. “You think you can keep your hands to yourself?” you teased.

Anton leaned closer, his voice low and filled with a playful challenge. “Why would I want to, when you look so good?” His warm breath brushed against your ear, sending tingles down your spine.

You laughed softly, but then gleamed at the road ahead. “Hey, pay attention to the road,” you teased, your voice mock-serious.

Anton chuckled, his hand still gently exploring. “Don’t worry,” he said confidently, his tone cocky and flirty. “I’ve got my hands–and eyes–right where they need to be.”

The car pulled up to the liquor store, and you both hopped out to grab the beers Sohee had requested, along with other beverages. The task was simple enough, but the tension between you both was high.

As he drove, the tension between you both grew undeniable. Anton glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know,” he said, his voice low and suggestive, “we have a bit of time before we head back.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” you asked, your voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

Without answering, Anton turned down a quiet, secluded road, pulling over in a spot hidden by trees. He killed the engine and looked at Y/N with a smirk. “Why don’t we take a little detour?” 

You grinned, heart pounding with anticipation. “Lead the way,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, already intoxicated by the daring excitement of what was to come.

Anton flashed a wicked smile and opened his door, stepping out of the driver's seat. He moved around the car, opening the back door and gesturing for you to join him. “Get in the backseat,” he suggested, his tone a mix of command and invitation.

As they settled into the backseat, Anton’s lips captured yours, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed eagerly. He traced up your sides, fingers brushing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your breaths mingling in the confined space. Anton’s hands explored your curves, sliding beneath your dress, his touch warm and urgent.

He felt you shiver as his hand ventured higher, fingers tracing the soft fabric of your panties. “You’re so wet for me,” he whispered, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

You gasped, your body responding to his touch, the sensation intoxicating. Anton’s fingers pressed lightly over you, feeling the heat radiating, his own desire intensifying.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and husky, lips brushing against your ear. The thrill of their secret moment, hidden away from the world, only heightened their connection.

You whimpered softly, your breath hitching as Anton’s fingers continued their tantalizing exploration. Emboldened by your response, he kissed a trail down your neck, his lips trailing lower with each tender caress. He knelt between your legs, his gaze locked with yours, filled with hunger.

"Anton…" you breathed out as his palms found their way upwards. "We should go back," you said, feeling a mix of urgency and desire.

"We should," he agreed, though his hands showed no intention of stopping. His fingers teased your skin, drawing you closer.

"We need to get back," you insisted, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"Then let's stop," Anton suggested, his lips brushing against yours.

"You first," you challenged, a playful smile on your lips.

"I can't," he admitted, his voice low and filled with need.

"Then let's finish," you replied, surrendering to the heated moment. Your lips met his once more, lost in the intensity of your connection. The urgency of the world outside faded into oblivion as you both gave in to the passionate, stolen moments in the backseat of the car.

Anton’s mouth found your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path of fire along your skin. Your fingers threaded through his hair, urging him closer as he teased you, building tension to an unbearable peak. When his lips finally met your core, it was like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His touch was expert, each movement deliberate and intoxicating. Your breath hitched with each flick of his tongue, the gentle sucking on your clit sending tremors of delight through your ent9ire being. He alternated between soft, teasing licks and firmer strokes, each one eliciting a gasp or maon from your lips. The sensations were almost too much, your body arching towards him, seeking more of that friction.

“Anton, please,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure built inside you.

“Tell me what you want,” he hummed against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Please, don’t stop.”

Anton’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. His tongue moved with a rhythm that drove you wild. His mouth was warm and insistent, every movement designed just for you, to bring you over the edge. 

“You taste so good,” he growled softly, his voice sending another shiver down your spine.

His lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking and then releasing, only to repeat the motion. You felt your muscles tighten in anticipation, the coil inside you winding tighter and tighter.

“Oh, god, Anton,” you moaned, your hips bucking against his mouth. “I’m so close…”

He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your wet skin, before diving back down with renewed vigor. His tongue pressed firmly against your clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles, causing your toes to curl.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You could feel the edge of release approaching, your body tensing as your high was nearing. Anton sensed this, his hands sliding up your thighs to hold you even closer, his tongue working you relentlessly. 

Anton flicked his tongue rapidly against your clit and then sucked your clit hard, the coil inside you snapped. You cry out Anton’s name with ecstasy, your body trembling with the intensity. Anton continued to work you through your high, his mouth never leaving your core. 

He didn't stop until he had drawn out every last shiver and moan from you, his tongue soothing and gentle now, easing you down from the heights of pleasure. When you finally collapsed back against the seat, spent and breathless, Anton kissed his way back up your body, his eyes dark with desire and a hint of satisfaction.

Anton’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as you pushed him gently against the seat. You kissed your way down his neck, your lips trailing along his collarbone and chest. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice a husky growl. “What are you doing?”

You smiled against his skin, your hands moving to unbutton his jeans. ‘Giving you what you deserve,” you replied, your voice low and seductive.

“We should go back now,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction, his body already responding to your touch.

You slid his jeans down, your fingers tracing the hard outline of his arousal through his boxers. Anton’s breath quickened, his eyes never leaving yours. 

With a hunger that matched his own, you lowered yourself between his legs, your lips brushing against his inner thigh. Anton’s sharp intake of breath spurred you on, your mouth finding him eagerly. You started with soft, teasing kisses along his length, your tongue darting out to taste him,

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his hands now tangling in your hair.

You looked up at him, eyes full of mischief. “That’s the idea,” you said, before taking him fully into your mouth. Your tongue danced along his member, teasing and tasting him as you worked him to the same completion he did to you moments before. 

Anton’s grip on the seat tightened as he surrendered to the pleasure you gave him. He whispered words of encouragement to you as you continued your attack. You increased your pace, your movements becoming more fervent as you felt him growing harder against your tongue. His hips bucked slightly, matching your rhythm, and you knew he was close.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice strained with need. “I’m so close, I’m about to come…”

You only redoubled your efforts, taking him deeper, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip before descending again. With a final stroke, you felt him reach his high, his release filling your mouth as he groaned your name. You swallowed, taking every last bit, your eyes locked. 

As you pulled back, you stuck your tongue out to show Anton you had swallowed every last bit. The sight alone made him lose it, his breath hitching as he stared at you with a dazed look. 

“God,” is all he managed to breathe out. 

Anton pulled you into a lingering kiss before leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “We should probably get back,” he said, his voice low. 

You smiled, your body still humming from the intensity of your shared moment. “Yeah, before Sohee starts wondering where we are.”

With a reluctant sigh, you both fixed your clothes and climbed back into the front seats. The car hummed to life, and as you drove back to the party, the tension between you and Anton was replaced with comfortable silence. The intimacy of your recent encounter still lingering in the air. 

As the car approached the party, the sound of music and laughter grew louder. You could see the house lit up, people milling about in the front yard, holding drinks and talking animatedly. Anton parked the car and turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Stepping out of the car, you both grabbed the bags of drinks and headed towards the house. The moment you walked in, you were greeted by a way more drunk Sohee, his eyes widening with relief and excitement.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, stumbling slightly as he approached you. "I was starting to think you guys got lost or something."

Anton chuckled, handing Sohee a bag of drinks. "Just had a little detour. But we got everything you asked for."

Sohee swayed a bit, peering into the bag with a grin. “Perfect! You guys are lifesavers.” He reached out to pat Anton on the shoulder but paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Hey, uh, Anton…your fly is down.”

Anton quickly looked down, his cheeks reddening slightly as he zipped up. “Oops, must’ve been in a hurry. We stopped to use the bathroom,” he said with a casual laugh.

Sohee then turned his attention to you, his gaze lingering on  your slightly tousled hair. “And Y/N, your hair is looking a mess.”

You felt your cheeks flush as you quickly tried to smooth your hair. “Yeah, the wind was crazy out there.”

Sohee laughed, giving you a playful shove. “Sure, sure. You might want to keep that under control unless you want to scare everyone away.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t smile at how even drunk Sohee still tries to bully you. “Thanks for the advice, dick.”

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his gaze, but he was too far gone to dwell on it. “Well, as long as you’re back with the drinks. Let’s keep this party going!”

He grabbed a beer from the bag and cracked it open, raising it in a toast. “ To the best beer runners ever!”

You and Anton exchanged a look of relief, clinking your bottles together before taking a sip. The party continued in full swing, the music thumping and laughter filling the air. Sohee, now distracted by other friends, quickly forgot his earlier suspicions, and you and Anton were able to blend back into the lively atmosphere, the thrill of your secret adding an extra spark to the night.

Anton found himself with his friends Wonbin and Eunseok, their group gathered in the kitchen with bottles in hand. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional teasing remark. Anton glanced outside where you were sitting with your friends Karina and Ningning at a small table, a bit away from the main crowd. You looked radiant, your laughter infectious as you animatedly chatted with the girls. 

Karina nudged you playfully, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “You and Anton seem awfully close tonight,” she remarked, her tone teasing. 

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your cheeks warmed at the comment. “He’s just my best friend, and you know that,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile.

Ningning leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “You two would make a cute couple, you know.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not like that,” you insisted, but the words felt less convincing even to your own ears. Your gaze drifted back to Anton, who was now engrossed in a story Eunseok  was telling, his smile bright and genuine. 

You stumble upstairs, a little tipsy but still steady enough to navigate the familiar path to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kick off your shoes and collapse onto your bed, the soft fabric of your sundress bunching up around your thighs. Grinning to yourself, you pull out your phone and open a new message to Anton.

y/n: hey handsome ;)

You giggle to yourself, hitting send. It doesn’t take long for your phone to buzz with a response.

Anton: Hey, where’d you go?

y/n: upstairs. needed a break from the noise. u should come join meeee

You bite your lip, your fingers dancing over the keyboard as you continue

y/n: im all alone…in bed…and it’s kind of boring without u

You know Anton is still downstairs with his friends, and the thought of him trying to hide his phone to read your messages makes you giggle. Your phone buzzes again.

Anton: I’m with the guys, I can’t just leave like that

y/n: why not? im more fun than them

You can almost imagine him trying to keep a straight face while reading your texts. Deciding to take it up a notch, you reach for the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to reveal your bare skin. Angling the phone just right, you snap a photo and send it to him. 

y/n: see? im not even wearing panties…

A thrill runs through you as you hit send, and you wait, heart pounding, for his response. This time, it takes a bit longer for his reply to come through.

Anton: Holy shit, Y/N. You’re killing me

y/n: u know what would be even better? u… up here with me

You start again, feeling more bold.

y/n: yeah im just laying here, thinking about u…touching myself

Your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Anton: You are so hot, oh my god…

You grin, knowing you’ve got him right where you want him.

y/n: come on, anton. don’t you want to see what you’re missing ;)

You lie back, anticipation building as you wait for his next move. Downstairs, Anton is struggling to keep his composure, sneaking glances at his phone while his friends are oblivious to his distraction. You can almost feel his tension, his desire to be up there with you instead of stuck trying to act normal.

Finally, his next message comes through. 

Anton: Give me 5 minutes

You smile, your heart racing with excitement. You know that in a few minutes, Anton will be there, and the night is going to take another exhilarating turn. But you decide to push him a little further. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you adjust your dress, pulling it up higher to reveal more. With a sultry look, you take another photo, making sure it captures the curve of your body and the suggestive hint of your touch.

y/n: hurry up…i’m getting impatient

You hit send, your heart racing as you imagine Anton’s reaction. The seconds tick by slowly, each one heightening your excitement. You can almost picture him trying to discreetly look at his phone, his friends none the wiser. 

Your phone buzzes again.

Anton: Damn, Y/N…you’re making this really hard to stay down here.

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

y/n: just imagine how good it will feel to be up here with me…

The thrill of knowing he’s about to sneak away just for you is intoxicating. You send one final message, wanting to make sure he can’t resist.

y/n: just think about me… laying her, so wet and ready for you…

Another photo follows, this one even more revealing, leaving little to the imagination.

Anton: I’m on my way. 

You hear the creak of the stairs, each step bringing Anton closer. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you quickly check your appearance one last time. The door handle turns, and Anton slips into the room, closing and locking the door quietly behind him.

He stands there for a moment, taking in the sight of you sprawled on the bed, your dress hiked up, one hand resting on your inner thigh. His eyes darken with desire, and he walks over, his presence sending shivers down your spine. 

You start to pull your hand away, but he stops you with a firm but gentle command. “Don’t stop. Keep going.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you nod shyly, resuming your slow, teasing strokes. His eyes never leave you, his intense gaze making your movements feel even more intimate. You feel your body reacting to his attention, every touch amplified by his look. 

Anton sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to reach out and touch you but holding back. His restraint only heightens your arousal, and you let out a soft moan, your fingers working urgently. 

“Anton..” you breathe, your voice trembling already with need. “Please…I want you.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. “I want to watch you a little longer.”

You whimper, your body aching for his touch, but you obey, for fingers continuing to play with your clit. His gaze is almost tangible, the heat in his eyes making you feel more exposed than ever. 

“Please, Anton,” you beg, your voice breaking with desperation. “I need you to touch me.”

His hand covers yours, guiding your movements. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through you, and you gasp, your body arching towards him. He watches you intently, his own arousal evident. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “But I want to hear you beg for it.”

“Please,” you moan, your voice raw with desire. “I need you. I need to feel you inside me.”

He pulls back slightly, he eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “Not yet,” he says firmly. “I want you to make yourself cum first. Show me what you do when I’m not around to help you.” Your eyes widen, and a shiver runs through you. “But Anton,” you whisper,  your voice giving out on you. “I- I can’t… I need you…”

“You can,” he insists, his voice a low growl. “Show me how badly you want it.”

You hesitate for a moment, your body aching for him. But the command in his voice is undeniable. You slide your hand back down, resuming the slow, tortuous strokes, your eyes locked on his. His gaze never wavers, watching every movement, every reaction.

To increase the sensation, you move your free hand up to your breasts, fingers grazing over your nipples. You pinch and tease them, gasping at the added pleasure. The dual actions overwhelm you, and you close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling.

The sensation builds quickly, your own touch suddenly feeling more intense under his watchful eyes. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your hips lifting off the bed as you chase your release. 

“Anton…please…” you moan, your body trembling.

“Keep going,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet. “Show me how much you want it.”

The words push you over the edge, your body tensing as the orgasm crashes over you. You cry out, your entire body shuddering with the force of it. 

As you come down from the high, Anton finally moves, his hands replacing yours, his touch sending aftershocks through your oversensitive skin. You notice his hand moving more deliberately over himself, his arousal palpable. 

He stands up, unbuttoning his jeans, his movements slow and knowing. You watch, your eyes fill with a mix of satisfaction and renewed desire as he finally starts to touch himself openly. But even now, his focus still remains on you, his eyes locked on yours as he begins to stroke himself, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You like watching me, don’t you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 

“Yes,” you whisper, your body still trembling from your release. “But I want to do more than just watch. Let me touch you.”

He shakes his head slowly, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Not yet,” he says, his voice a tantalizing whisper. “You can look, but no touching.”

You whimper at his words, your core aching with renewed need as you watch him begin to pleasure himself. His movements are skilled and with purpose. His eyes locked onto yours as he slowly stroked himself, edging closer and closer to release. 

“Please, Anton,” you beg, your voice breaking. “I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

He groans, his breath hitching as he slows his strokes, teasing himself. “Not yet,” he whispers, his voice strained. “I want to see you beg for it.”

“Anton,” you moan, your body trembling with desire. “I can’t take it anymore. Please… I need you.”

His eyes darkened with lust, and he moved closer, his hand still working over himself. “Keep begging,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “I want to hear how much you want it.”

“Please, Anton,” you cry out, your body arching towards him. “I need you so badly. I can’t stand it. Please…”

His eyes flash with satisfaction, and he finally gives in, positioning himself over you. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue teasing yours. You can taste the desire on his lips, feel it in the way his hands roam your body.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your mouth, his voice thick with need. He pulls back just enough to align himself with you, the anticipation making you tremble. His eyes lock onto yours, holding your gaze as he slowly pushes inside, stretching and filling you in a way that makes you cry out.

Your nails dig into his back, your body arching against his. “Anton,” you gasp, your voice a mix of relief and overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god, yes!”

He moves with a deliberate, unhurried pace, each thrust deep and measured. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you intensifying the sensations coursing through your body. You cling to him, every thrust driving you closer to the edge. 

“I want to feel you come again,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to feel you tighten around me.”

The command in his voice sends a thrill through you, and you can feel the pressure building once more. Your moans become more urgent, your body responding eagerly to his every touch. His pace quickens, his own restraint slipping as he nears his own release. 

“Anton,” you cry out, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. He groans, the sound vibrating through you as he finally lets go, his release triggering another wave of pleasure for you.

He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies tangled together. After a moment, he lifts his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“I don’t ever want to let you go,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

You smile, your heart swelling with emotion. “I don’t want you to,” you reply softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I want this. I want you.”

He holds you tighter, his lips finding yours once more in a tender, lingering kiss. “Then you have me,” he says, his eyes filled with promise. “Always.”

[whatevertheweather]

Hi hello. I miss y'all. That is my own fault but it's still true, and I'm writing this on saturday night and feeling maudlin about how wonderful and talented and dear this fandom is and how I never join in anymore, so I'm making my little post okay.

I'm going with Musical Chairs again because it's so far past time for that to be done. And I've said this before, but it is approaching done. And I'm gonna get into that, but it'll all be behind the scenes rambling, so it's below the cut, and for those who don't want to delve that far, here is some freshly written Penny POV.

“Ah,” Shepard smiled, “a good deed wasn’t motive enough on its own?” “Not when it’s for a stupid reason.” “What is your un-stupid reason?” “Un-stupid?” Penny repeated. She turned resolutely to her drink. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” “Hey now,” Shepard said, ducking into her line of sight. “You struck me as someone who prefers being honest.” It was a job not to smile at that, but Penny put the work in.

Now for the mess.

It's a good mess I think. I have a new section in my miscellany document, tucked in between nine (9) sections of ramblings and cut scenes, and the new section is called "we got it this time boys," and I think it's right. I've written a full draft of the scene that's been holding us all back. It's there in its entirety, it just needs to be edited. And I'm so scared to reread it, because every time I think I got this scene right I come back and it's wrong. Which I've decided to be fine with, because so what!!! So what if I got 36k right and there's 5k that doesn't quite hit the way I want it to!!! The earth will keep spinning!!!

Anyway, "we got it this time boys" is 3 pages of what is technically kind of an outline for 5 pages of story, and every time I read the header it's in the voice of someone from some black-and-white hardboiled detective noir, which brings me the joy that might be the only reason I feel I've gotten it right in the first place. The outline is all written about as cohesively as it starts:

I think maybe, and gosh haven’t I said this a million times, I just need to stop trying to go that way. Stop trying to go any way. Like always “how do I get them to this moment” instead of “what would they do in this situation.” Unfortunately, the latter requires I connect with them on a level I’m not sure I can right now. But I guess let’s try. Actually let’s go for a walk, I can see the sun setting on the top of the house across the way and it’s lovely. Okay nice, it was lovely. Relaxing, refreshing. Saw a stump that looked like a beaver. Saw a cat. Thought of the opening to something I’m never going to write. So anyway,

It also sort of ends with:

Oh shit came up on an obstacle immediately. [Redacted]. This does not actually open the door for Baz to say something that can incite “[Redacted].” Fuck god okay whoops already going completely back on all I’ve decided and thinking maybe we could keep some of the new exchange I’d written, maybe he does reveal the ugh no stop I hate this. Just figure out a transition to bring in [...], what would Baz say to that other than what I’ve written him saying to that which doesn’t work for what I’m trying to do. I guess it could just be, like…he murmurs incorrigible. Or something. With a raised brow, a la baz. Sure let’s do that, however, I’ve laid down to do this and learned I’m actually quite sleepy, so let’s do it another time. Hopefully I don’t come up on another immediate problem and despair. Just remember not to start combining things and rereading things yet, okay. Please.

This would be alarming if I hadn't already gotten past this point and written the thing. So I'm going to go into editing it with the mindset that nothing substantial shall change and boohoo to me if I want it to, and once that's done we're pretty much home free.

Now tags.

Gonna dip a toe back into being melancholy and wistful about this fandom k, I really do miss it even though I'm the only one keeping me out. You're all my friends even if that is a surprise for you to hear because we haven't talked in months or maybe ever, but I love each and every one of you x

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy

@bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @noblecorgi @alexalexinii

@rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @basiltonbutliketheherb @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart

@martsonmars @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon

@forabeatofadrum @youarenevertooold @ileadacharmedlife @monbons

[psychickiss]

score!

— saiki kusuo x reader (gn, 2nd pov)

— summary: You’ve been eyeing the guy with pink hair that tags along with Nendou sometimes when he comes over to help out PK Academy’s baseball team. Luckily, something happens to make you two meet.

— notes: reader insert season 2 episode 15 / chapters 198 - 200. youre friends with satou btw but its just for plot

— things: platonic romantic. dont know.

— masterlist | request form | retrospring

You’ve always been a fan of the baseball team at your school. You weren’t a diehard sports person, but you were supportive, nonetheless, for you had a friend in the team. Satou Hiroshi.

You always waited for him during his practices, so you were well-acquainted with the team... Some of them, anyway.

You knew of Abe, and the... conflict he got himself involved in– the one that temporarily halted any games that PK Academy’s team were scheduled to play in.

However, that didn’t stop the team from practicing. “For Abe,” they’d say. You’re well-aware of everyone’s quirks, sometimes it even felt cliché.

“Satou, has your team got practice today?”

Satou nods at you. With a smile, he asks, “Will you watch again? I heard Nendou from 2-3 is joining us as a substitute.”

“Oh! The one who saved you guys during that one game! I hope his friends tag along.” You laugh.

Satou has a surprised look on his face. “Are you friends with them– Do you like one of them?”

You shake your head. “Not really. But, the one with pink hair is kind of cute.”

“Ehh? The... What’s his name... Saito? Wait, no, Saiki? Really?”

You nod at Satou, though the slight judginess in his tone has you confused. “Why? Do you not like him?”

Satou quickly shakes his head. “It’s not like that at all! I just think he’s, erm, kind of weird? I don’t know, I saw him once by the gate reading Weekly Jump and drinking peach juice–”

“Aren’t those things that you like too?”

A blush spreads across Satou’s face as he nods, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you.

Satou doesn’t say anything else. You continue talking, “I mean, I don’t know. There just aren’t a lot of cute people in school that aren’t... weirdos? No offense.”

“Are you... calling me weird?”

You excitedly point to Nendou and his friends, changing the subject of the conversation. “Look, there they are!”

Satou turns to where you’re pointing, and a slight smile graces his face. “I’m glad. Although, just Nendou wouldn’t be able to fill in all the missing positions.”

“Ah, you guys are missing Abe, right?”

Satou nods, a mix of sadness and hope present on his face. “If only he were here... Surely, the whole team would be all the more motivated.”

You just give a slight chuckle in response. You think, Yeah. With the way things seem to work for you guys, there’s going to be something cliche, like, Abe showing up. Haha.

...

The day for the game finally came. You weren’t expecting to see Abe on the stands (maybe you were), yet, there he was.

He walks away from his seat, seemingly in defeat. You’ve seen the team practice for the last few weeks for this game– there is no way in hell were you letting the old star walk away just like that. You follow him outside, quietly.

So does Saiki.

Okay, I tell him not to quit on his own team, yes–!

Abe gets hit on the head with a lost ball and falls down to the ground.

OH MY GOD.

You make yourself hidden somewhere, fumbling around your uniform for your phone in the hopes of contacting Satou and getting Abe the first aid he needs. As you do all that, you take quick glances at Abe.

Preoccupied by his own thoughts, Saiki doesn’t quickly pick up on your presence. This isn’t until your thoughts start to get louder. You witness him using his astral projection to take possession of Abe’s body.

You can only watch in terror as Abe’s once unconscious body stands up and boredly dusts himself off.

Okay. Just walk up to Abe and... Wait– Abe-slash-Saiki, and ask what the hell is going on.

Abe/Saiki starts walking towards you. You frown. This is it, I guess.

“What– What happened? What did you do?”

“Astral projection,” Abe/Saiki calmly replies. He says the next thing like it isn’t a big deal. At all. “I just took over his body. His spirit’s still in here, don’t worry. I’m telling you all this since you’re a witness.”

“You make this sound like a crime...” You crouch down to Saiki’s actual body. “You’re Saiki, right? Saiki Kusuo?”

Abe/Saiki nods. It takes everything in you to not curiously remove Saiki’s tinted green glasses and put them on for yourself.

Strictly, he tells you, “Don’t touch me. I’ll hide me somewhere.”

Oh. Okay. You don’t question his words. (You try not to.)

“I’m classmates with Toritsuka. He talks about you a lot.” I’ve got to stop thinking I’m talking to Abe. It’s so clearly not him! His face is devoid of emotion... I’m talking to Saiki. Yes. I’m talking to Saiki.

Saiki hums in response. “I know.”

You continue talking, “I didn’t immediately realize you were both the Saiki that Toritsuka talks about, and the cute guy with pink hair that tags along with Nendou sometimes. I guess you’re different around him.”

“Well, I have to keep him in line.” Saiki jokes. He turns to you, “He hasn’t made any weird comments towards you, no?”

You shake your head. “He’s actually kind of nice. Just have to treat him like you would anyone else.”

“Oh.” Saiki pauses. “We have to get back to the game.”

You nod, but you don’t immediately follow Abe/Saiki’s footsteps.

“What is it?”

“You’re bleeding.”

There’s a streak of blood down Abe/Saiki’s face. “It’s okay,” Saiki replies. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You sigh as you take out a handkerchief from your pocket. “Of course, but,” you stretch your arm a little to reach the blood on Abe/Saiki’s face, “but it’s going to freak someone out on the team.” He lowers himself a little to make it easier on you. “The manager, actually,” you specify. “Blood scares her.”

Saiki doesn’t say anything else.

“Okay. We’re done. You’re good to play. You know how to play baseball, right? The same way Abe does?”

Saiki nods before you two walk back to the field. Saiki walks towards the team’s manager, and you choose a seat in the stands. This time, you pick a seat that gives you an even better view of the game.

You watch Saiki as he continues the game as Abe. He doesn’t do a flashy pose before pitching, which you brush off. It could be easily ruled off as training, or whatever. Abe’s the one who would have to explain himself when Saiki’s spirit is out of his body.

Time passes by, and PK Academy’s baseball team wins the game.

Excited, you head to Satou to congratulate him.

“Oh, I didn’t do much... it was all Abe, actually. It’s really glad to have him back!”

You just nod. Mhm. Totally Abe in there. Not Saiki.

“The team and I are going out to celebrate later.” Says Satou. He asks if you want to tag along, and you decline. You do get along well with the team, but that celebration belonged to them, and only them.

You make your way towards Saiki, whose spirit was now back in his own body. You beam at him, “Congrats on the win, Abe.” You laugh lightly at your own joke, but quiet down at the lack of a reaction from Saiki.

Saiki looks at you blankly. Seeing that facial expression on his face felt much more correct than it did on Abe’s face. Hm.

“Satou and the team are going out,” you pause. You suddenly glance side-to-side, avoiding any eye contact with Saiki.

“Would you... maybe want to go out with me as well...? Not, like, on a date. I don’t really dig that... and especially not with people I’ve only talked to, like, two times–”

Saiki answers, to your relief. He stops you from rambling any further. “I suppose we could do that. It’s the least I can do since you had to see me use my powers.”

“Really? I’m glad you aren’t offended, or weirded out. There’s a café that just opened up! My treat.”

Saiki nods. “I might enjoy that. Thank you.”

You smile at him. “I’ll make sure you do have fun, don’t worry. The desserts there are really good! The cheesecake? To die for!”

“I’ll have to tell Nendou and the others they can go without me.”

[mqverick]

Waking On Air || chapter 1

The first time you noticed him was in the Top Gun meetings hall, after Viper had just introduced himself as your instructor. He was sitting front row along with a tall blond, constantly looking around in some sort of confident way, as if he belonged there more than any of the others did.

Your boyfriend, Tom Kazansky, mostly known as “Iceman”, kept giving him thoroughly dirty looks, making you a bit uneasy at the thought of having him start competing against other aviators once again — you thought he’d been over that phase, but you were apparently far from correct.

You didn’t get to catch his name, even though Tom was already halfway through cocky remarks and jokes about him, scoffing loudly on purpose the moment the young man declared that he did in fact have it in him to become the best of the best. He was confident — a little too confident for your liking — but Viper seemed to only encourage his engrossing ego by being so pleasantly taken aback by his uniquely strong personality.

“Babe,” your boyfriend’s soft nudge on the shoulder shook you out of your thinking trail and you slightly gasped inaudibly in surprise. “Me and the guys are going to the bar later, wanna tag along?”

“Sure,” you replied, giving him a short lasting squeeze on the hand and getting up from your seat. You almost missed the sarcastic and startling laugh, of who you thought was the blond aviator, targeted towards Iceman and his crew.

The second time you noticed him was later the same evening, at the bar. You and Tom were chatting about the new Top Gun entries while waiting for your drinks. Even though it was night, Tom insisted on wearing his sunglasses, which you honestly thought was stupid but also attractive.

“Ice,” you interrupted — his voice had gone all murmur-y after having spent a good amount of five minutes just trashing that cocky raven-haired stranger — “that’s Goose!”

Surprised by the enthusiastic tone in your voice, Iceman raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? How is that ground breaking news?”

“No, babe, you don’t understand — I haven’t seen Goose in years! He and I practically pampered each other up, he’s my childhood best friend and we lost contact after he moved to Miramar. God, I thought it was him earlier in the morning when he laughed at you but I couldn’t see very well. We have to go talk to him!”

And with that, you were already standing up and Tom was struggling to catch up with your quickening pace. By the time you finally reached Goose’s table, you were excitedly squealing his name. At first, Goose was startled, trying to figure out how you knew him, but like a bucket of cold water splashing into his face, he got up from his seat, wrapping his arms around you rather messily and smiling like an idiot.

“Roger!” he giggled while calling your call sign, pulling away from the embrace but still keeping his hands on your shoulder blades. “How have you been? My lord, it’s been years, you’ve changed so much!”

“I can’t stay seven forever, Nick,” you smiled. “I’ve been great, how about you? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you more,” Goose replied warmly, then taking a short break to acknowledge Ice’s presence right next to you. “I see you’ve made quite a few friends here,” he added sarcastically.

Iceman scoffed and you rolled your eyes at him, silently asking him to keep his mouth shut.

“Not exactly. Tom’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” he mouthed. Tension was awkwardly starting to build between you. “I wasn’t really expecting that, but oh well. I should introduce you to my boy friend as well — Maverick, that’s my childhood buddy Roger, Roger, Maverick.”

So his name was Maverick.

You extended your hand to the other aviator, which he shook after a moment, lingering his fingers around yours for maybe longer than needed. He had the most mesmerizing eyes, you unwillingly noticed, subconsciously fighting every muscle in your system from getting lost in them. Maverick shot you a stunning smile as he finally retreated his hand from yours and placing it around a half empty beer bottle.

“Alright, it was glad to catch up,” Tom suddenly spoke, slamming you back into reality as he hurriedly pulled you away from the bar and back to your table. You shook your arm away from his hand and gave him an annoyed look.

“What the fuck was that for?”

Iceman sighed. “I’m sorry but I just cannot simply stand like an idiot while Mitchell’s ogling you.”

Your eyebrows curved in offense and surprise.

“No one was ogling me, Tom. I thought we’ve been over the aggressive jealousy phase anyway.”

Tom attempted to scoot closer to you, placing his warm palm over your hand and rubbing small circles on your wrist with his thumb apologetically.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said lowly. You gave him a weak smile and pressed a kiss on his cheek before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom.

Just before you could push the door to get in, you felt a hand softly grab on your elbow, pulling you towards them, which took you by surprise, causing you to trip on the heel of your left feet and sending you hitting straight into a hard chest. Instinctively, you tried to avoid crashing your nose by pressing your palms against their chest. You heard a light chuckle emit from the stranger and your eyes travelled upwards only to meet with familiar blue-green ones.

“It’s you again,” you spoke — a bit too breathlessly for your liking — noticing how his lips curved into a cocky smirk.

“It’s Maverick.”

“I know. What kind of name even is that, did your parents hate you or something?”

“It’s just my call sign.”

You decided to ignore him and get out of the conversation by walking inside the restroom, but the stubborn aviator followed you inside.

“My name’s Pete Mitchell,” he added. Cute, you thought — he was trying to keep the talk going.

“Didn’t really ask there, Pete Mitchell.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name? Or is your actual name Roger?”

You huffed in annoyance and turned to glare at him. The smirk was still plastered across his lips and it was driving you freaking insane. “I have a boyfriend,” you opted to reply.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, I have a boyfriend. My name is Pete Mitchell, but most people prefer to go with Maverick.”

You rolled your eyes. There was something ridiculously stupid about his personality, but you found yourself liking it — sort of. He was challenging you and you were always in for a challenge.

“I’m rolling dead on the floor,” you sarcastically replied, keeping a frighteningly straight face. “You think you’re just so funny and charming, Pete Mitchell.”

“I’m pretty confident about my character, yeah.”

“Congratulations. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go pee, so I’d appreciate it if you could get your cheeky little ass out of here.”

“I’ll meet you outside then,” he replied with a wink and you let out a very loud sigh as his presence was out of the restroom, slapping your hands against your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

God, he’s going to cause trouble, isn’t he?

You were grateful for the fact that he — in fact — did not meet you outside and you had the chance to go straight back to your table without any more inconvenience. Tom was drinking his beer, giving you a sweet smile as you approached him. You decided not to tell him anything about your previous encounter with Maverick, trying to forget about it yourself, but failing miserably, since his stupid smirk and his stupid green or blue or whatever eyes were tattooed in your brain.

Taking a big gulp out of your own beer, you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the bar (hoping to catch Maverick somewhere but you’d never confess that).

Stupid fucking Maverick.

“Looking for someone?”

You looked at Tom, cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. He must’ve noticed you.

“Nope, just feeling tired. Do you mind if we call it a night?” you asked and he ran his hand along the length of your back, nudging the side of your neck with his head and placing a kiss on your forehead before nodding. You wanted to find an excuse to see him again — say goodbye to Goose, yeah that was a good idea, but you were worried it might’ve been a bit too transparent. After all, you would see Goose tomorrow, you knew that would be Tom’s exact answer. You kept your mouth shut as you walked outside, body feeling hot even though the weather outside was chilly.

Tomorrow would be a hard day.

Chapter 2

[raffe156]

Breakaway state Part 1

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - The 141 is formed, Price and Tank can't get their shit together, bad timing, things go pop and we all hate the Dr.

A/N - Shorter but wanted to get something out, this arch is gonna hit hard (at least I hope)

Warnings - Angst. Language, Age gap Price (39) reader (25) Violence, Weapons war/fighting stuff basically injury, pregnancy mentions, medical stuff

I really appreciate all the recent feedback and asks! Please keep em coming! It only spurs me on haha 

Tags:  @irnbru32 @shuttlelauncher81  @mildlyhopeless @mentallynot-here​ @deadbranch @soapyghost @fluffysmiko @bangirl134 @mortallyscrumptiousmilkshake @boomtowngirl

If I've missed anyone, please let me know ​

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd and Mckinley

Masterlist link here

_______________________________________

Kyle had belled your phone out for 2 days straight, but you didn’t know what to say to him. What could you say to him? You eventually had to answer him when his last voicemail threatened a call to your mum. Low blow Kyle.

“Hello?”

“Care to explain yourself?”

“What?”

“What do you mean what? Why did you leave? What the hell happened Tank?”

“Nothing Kyle, I just needed to head home early”

“Bullshit! I wake up Price looks like shit and I know he didn’t drink that much and your gone?Never seen Price look like that….he looked done in…what happened Tank?”

Price looked done in? He caused this, he made the call to stop whatever this was! You could feel your skin prickling now, you were getting angry.

“Kyle honestly nothing happened”

“Why are you lying to me? Was it to do with that Luke guy? Seen Price talking to him the morning you left, he didn’t look happy, he seemed a bit off with him in the pub too”

Oh god what had he said to Luke? You felt sick.

“Do you know what they were talking about?”

“Nahh couldn’t hear them…so it was to do with Luke?”

“No…well yeh Price took the funnies, saying he doesn’t know how it will work with me and him..”

“You and who? PRICE!? What?”

Shit.

“Noooo me and Luke! He doesn’t know how it will work between me and him, Luke thinks PRice is a Truck driver and I work in Logistics at the depot”

“Ohh right…oh I get what you mean now, thought you meant you and Price…”

You could hear the insinuation in his voice, Kyle wasn’t daft, but he played along for your sake.

“Anyway Ill see you soon…”

“Oh ok, il see you at base yeh?”

“Yeh, Thanks Kyle by the way don’t threaten me with calls to my mum you forget I have your mum’s number too”

“I wouldn’t have to make threats if you answers your dam phone! But you should call my mum she likes you better than me.”

********

It had been 2 weeks since the weekend away an 1 week at base. You had to get it together as your little squad of three now had two new members and the base was flooded with rookies from other teams. You recognised Simon or Ghost as he went by from years back when you were still a rookie yourself that and the obvious skull mask he wore. Johnny or ‘Soap’, however was a new face to you, not a bad looking one at that but you had a feeling he knew he was good-looking. He had watched you walk in with Kyle as if weighing you up and down. You could feel his eyes on you.

You had seen little of Price mainly because you were avoiding him. But that morning you had a training exercise an easy smash and grab two teams. You and a hand full of rookies had been paired with Ghost. Soap and Kyle the same.

Price shuffled a few papers about giving a quick glance round the room avoiding your line of sight. Kyle gave you a quick look he knew something still wasn’t right.

“Today is just a simple training exercise, so we can get a feel for each other's skill set see where we are at etc. A smash an grab job I’m sure your all familiar, so let’s not waste any time and gear up any questions?” He made his way out the door, not waiting for anyone to ask any.

You all exchanged looks an followed to the gear room.

*******

Ghost helped you with your tact vest, checking you over.

“All sorted kid” He slapped you on the back, nearly throwing your forward. You half smiled at Kyle, who was holding in a laugh, but then you noticed his eyes flick to something behind you and his expression changed. He rolled his eyes, that wasn’t like Kyle? You turned around. You wish you hadn’t instantly. Why? Why was she here? Why had he let her come here? Price was stood with Dr O’Brian, Helen. Was he taking the piss?

He had his hand on her cheek, giving her that eye-crinkling smile that would make any woman weak.

“John…enough Ill see you later tonight for dinner”

“No worries love, I'll see you then”

He placed a kiss on her other cheek, making her blush.

“Stop it you!” She faked a slap to his chest. The Rookies all burst out into wolf whistles and cheering. You stood still, your mouth dry, heart racing, anger crawling over your body, your jaw set tight, blood rushing in your ears, were you going red? Fuck.

Ghost brought you back down to earth.

“Tank? Are you ready?”

“Ye….yes…Yes Lieutenant!” You barked, taking him by surprise. You couldn’t look at Kyle, but you knew he was looking at you. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

The Training session started, but your mind was a storm cloud. He really hadn’t waited long had he? Bet she was round the next day! He probably didn’t even mean what he had said “It didn’t mean anything,it was a one-time thing!” One time thing my arse! Dickhead! You were raging, Soaps rookies didn’t stand a chance against you. They were simply in your way, God knows where Kyle was. Ghost was egging you on in your ear he was impressed, he hadn’t expected anything less from you however, he knew what you were capable of. You ploughed through them taking each room by storm your rookies struggling to keep up. As you came to the target room you headed in taking out two more rookies instructing yours to grab the main target.

“Slow down Tank, your getting too cocksure of yourself” Price had tuned into your channel. His voice an even tone.

Fuck you, you thought.

“With all due respect Captain, I know what I’m doing done enough smash an grabs to last me a lifetime”, you almost spat down the line, you caught a rookie looking at you as if you had gone mad.

No reply back. Just silence. Good. you thought that shut him up.

As you made sure the rookies had done their part, you made for the open window of the training house it was a 2 story abseil down. Easy you had done it hundreds of times. You wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. You motioned to go first attaching yourself to the line, but as you got about 8ft from the ground the line came away causing you to plummet the rest of the drop. The white-hot pain flooded your system. The wind knocked out of you you tried to claw your way onto your front, but your right shoulder wouldn’t support you, in fact it wouldn’t even move, you glanced over only to see it hanging down level with your chest, it had been dislocated. The pain was blinding, Ghost voice was in an out of your ear.

“Tank? What the fuck happened? Did you check the line before going down it?”

The line? The Line? As if you hadn’t checked the line, Price was going to love this. Fuck.

Kyle came into view as you felt yourself being scooped up from the floor mats.

“Kyle, slowly put her arm across her waist…eyes on me love” Ghost manoeuvred you so Kyle could do as instructed, as he did you let out a gut-churning scream. You would of rather taken a bullet again than this.

“Fuck sake Kyle!!!” You could feel the slight sting of tears. How pathetic you must of looked, cradled up crying in your Leuitants arms. Through your blurry vision, you spotted Price looking almost worried, but it must of been for only a split second as when your tears fell, clearing your sight he went back to looking pissed off. It took everything in Price not to take over you were in pain, he should be the one carrying you, consoling you not Ghost, but he had to take a backseat.

“Take her to see Dr.O’Brian…” He motioned Ghost to follow him.

No anything but that, you would rather Ghost try to pop it back in, shit you would rather be shot than see her, but you were in too much pain to even speak and as Ghost carried you to the med bay you wished you had just checked the line.

*********

“Oh deary me…what’s the matter with you?” Dr. O’Brian was rolling her eyes at you like you had scrapped your knee not pulled your shoulder out of its socket completely. Ghost answered for you like it was an actual question.

“Fell out a window, well abseiled down without checking the rig line…shoulders gone POP!” He even made a hand gesture.

“What you like? Not the first time you haven’t checked the rig, is it? John told me he always has to check your strapped in right” She glanced over at Price who was standing at the foot of the cot arms folded face stern. She was still talking to you like a child, you hated her sing-song voice. John told her? You wondered what else John had told her? Or better yet what he hadn’t told her…

“Anywho going to have to ask you a few routine questions before I can administer any strong pain relief I'm afraid, Keep on the gas and air while I do then we can give you the strong stuff”

You glupped on the air, taking it deep into your lungs and nodded.

“Okie dokie…On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being low 10 being extreme how would you rate your pain?”

You flared your nostrils was she being serious? Ghost answered for you again.

“Im gonna says she at a 10 Doc”

“Very well, are you taking any other medications?”

You shook your head.

“Any antidepressants or other pain relief?”

You took another deep drag of the gas and air shaking you head again.

“Any allergies?”

“Surely this in on file, Helen?” Price sighed he knew this was being dragged out, but he didnt know for who’s benefit.

“Let me check…. oh yeh it is, ok last few questions Tank…Are you Sexually active?” The room went silent, had she really just asked that? The bitch. You quickly glanced over at Price, who was looking at the ground. She had clocked it.

“Yes” you mumbled teeth clenched around the mouthpiece.

“Ok when was the last time you had sex?” Her face was like stone now, she was fishing for something, and you knew exactly what. So fuck it you thought, you’ll bite. You pretended to count in your head. Prices ear pricked up.

“A few weeks ago, maybe 3….” you took another big gulp of air as her eyes flashed she was doing the math in her head. She knew you were at Prices 3 weeks ago. Plenty of opportunities for you and him to go at it.

Price looked at you he knew you didn't mean him, so amused you meant Luke. Which was also not true. He looked slightly affected. Good. Let him think about that. Helen was writing down some notes on your chart, probably SLAG in big red letters!

“Ok last question, any chance you could be pregnant? Need to know before we give decide on what to give you” She had scrunched her face up into a fake smile, it was hideous.

“Nope, not pregnant, so can we get my shoulder popped back in and get me some strong pain relief?” You were getting lightheaded on the gas and air now and it was becoming harder to control your temper.

“Ok If you're sure you're not pregnant, we can give you some morphine, but you're going to have to go to the adjoining base as we don't have the supplies to pop it back in.”

Your eyes widened. She really was playing you now. Even Price was looking at her in disbelief.

“Fuckin hell Doc! All that an she still has to wait for transfer? Fuck that ere I'll pop it back in myself! Price hold her legs down” Ghost moved round to your shoulder as Helen jumped up.

“DON'T YOU DARE! I won't allow that! Not in my med bay you can drag her out and pop it back in elsewhere, but not in here!”

She had stepped in front of Ghost but had her eyes on Price, he was dead if he touched you. You and Ghost exchanged looks nodding in agreement. He stepped around her, leaning forward for you to place your good arm over his shoulder.

“Easy does it love, I'll carry you over my shoulder so you can dangle your arm, might be more comfortable, I'll get this popped back in no time.”

You took one last big drag of the gas and air, it had taken full effect now, you were still in pain, but your mind was swimming as Ghost lifted you over his shoulder, the tight grip of his huge hand on your inner thigh sent a shiver up your spine. He would destroy you, the guy was a mountain, but the thought still did laps in your brain. You let out a little giggle.

“You good love?” Ghost patted your backside with his other hand. It sent a shock through your system causing another chuckle you felt tipsy.

“Ready when you are L.T.” you were still giggling to yourself. O’Brian was in utter shock. Price was pinching the bright of his nose.

“Ghost, put her down…your not popping anything back in, she's going to the main wing, I'll call for transport…” He hadn’t even looked up. He couldn’t, seeing Ghost handling you like that wound him up, but he would never admit that.

“Noooooo fuck that Ghost don't you dare put me down, I want you…no in fact I demand you to pop it back in, let's do this battlefield style!” You were getting giddy now the gas and air making you a bit loopy. Ghost chuckled, patting your backside again. He could see the anger in Price’s eyes, he was still his Captain.

“Easy Love, think we are going to have to listen to the Captain on this one, but if we are ever out on the job and it happens again I’ll gladly sort you out” His words caused a little flurry in your stomach. What the hell?

“You can wait outside, take the Gas and air with you…” Helen was fuming she slammed the canister into Price.

“Wont she be better off lay down Helen while we wait?” Price was looking at her confused. She whipped her head back round.

“John she can lay, hang, sit, god she can even dangle from anywhere else other than in here I don't care…get the transport called for her to go to the other base” she handed him your tact vest an walked off. You were still on Ghost's shoulder, but could see him looking after her his brow furrowed, his lips slightly downturned. You felt a pang of guilt, deep down you still cared for him and your being here was making things difficult for both of you. You would never be able to go back to normal as it wasn’t even normal to begin with.

*******

“I'll see you when your back love” Ghost gave your leg a quick squeeze as they loaded you into the truck.

You knew he wouldn’t, you weren't coming back. It was a shame, Kyle would be fine…eventually, but you needed a change, you couldn't keep this up. You looked to Price, your eyes only meeting for a second, but it was enough, enough to cement your decision. You had both been kidding yourselves thinking this would work you were only hurting each other so you had to be the one to cut the rope that had you both hanging.

Price watched as they hooked you up to an IV, he had so many things he had wanted to say to you, one of them being sorry.

He decided he was going to have a talk with you when you got back, he wanted you to be happy he really did, but his pride had been hurt that night he saw you with Luke and he had turned to Helen to try and get you out of his head, but it had only buried you deeper.

There had been some truth in your words ‘how would it work between you and him?’ He reminded himself he was 15 years older and maybe you were better of with Luke he was closer in age to you at 32 and Helen to him at 38, but he didn't want to accept that and you needed to talk properly. Speaking of Helen he had seen a different side to her today and it didn't sit right with him, but maybe that was because of her attitude towards you. He couldn't help it, no matter how much you appeared to hate him he still wanted you by his side…it was where you belonged. As the van pulled away, he made his plan and you made yours.

*******

“Well I look forward to you joining us Tank, Squad 8 needs someone with your skill set and Dredd has told me your one of the best”

“Thank you Sir, I look forward to meeting the rest of the squad, it will be nice to work with Dredd again me and her go way back”

“I must say it was a surprise your transfer request coming across my desk? Straight from the top didnt even need approving from Price? Im sure the 141 will be losing a valuable asset…which im more than happy to take” Captain Mckinley winked as he reached over his desk to shake your hand.

“You sure Price won't miss you?”

“No…I'm sure he’ll manage Sir”

[ink-flavored]

Make The Word Tag

tagged by @void-botanist, thank you!

Rules: Using the 3 random words given to you, you have to write a scene either using all 3 words in one scene OR write three separate scenes using each word separately.

Sicne this got a little long, I'll tag everyone right up top.

Your words are: organ, jump, cold

Tagging: @foxys-fantasy-tales @noblebs @vacantgodling @taranorma @sigridhawke @ink-enchanted @hallwords @leahnardo-da-veggie @rachaellawrites @wintherlywords @ettawritesnstudies and anyone else who wants to write something!

My words were: volcano, heaven, and means, and I wrote the following scene(s) for P&J!

~

The awkward silence grew exceptionally long. Pride stared at a stain on the wall, pretending to wonder where it came from. He didn’t know why he was still sitting there, listening to Justice sniffle into a tissue an arm’s length away, but couldn’t force his body to move. All his muscles clenched, waiting in suspense for permission to slink off the couch and forget this ever happened.

“Thank you,” Justice suddenly mumbled.

Pride almost jumped. “For what?”

“For listening, I guess.” He crumpled the used tissue in his fist, staring down at it with a wet smile. “I can’t really talk to humans about this, so.”

“You probably could. Just don’t say you’re homesick for Heaven. Let people fill in the rest themselves.”

Justice scrunched his nose. “I don’t know, I’m not a good liar.”

“It’s not lying, technically.”

“Sure, but it feels better to be able to tell the truth.” He gestured between them, the empty cushion on the couch even more exaggerated. “To talk to someone who gets it.”

“I don’t.”

Pride’s mouth answered so quickly he didn’t have time to think about what it said. Justice blinked his puffy eyes, taken-aback.

“What… do you mean?” he ventured.

“I’m not homesick,” Pride said. “I don’t miss anywhere, really.”

“You don’t?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t miss anyone?”

Pride snorted. Justice would never know how funny that question was. “Abso-fucking-lutely not. Hell sucked ass and I’m glad I’ll never be able to go back.”

“Oh.”

Justice sat back on the couch, confusion overtaking the homesickness that Pride discovered mere minutes ago. The longer he sat there, eyes far away in thought, the more a suspicion grew in Pride’s mind. A suspicion that seemed completely ridiculous.

“You don’t think demons actually like it in Hell,” he said, “do you?”

Justice turned to him and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they?”

It was, perhaps, the dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. If he didn’t have his horns safely tucked away, he’d assume he was getting high off his own demonic fumes. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

“I don’t know anything about Hell, and you lived there, so—”

“’Lived there’? I existed there. I survived, barely.”

Justice looked as astonished as he felt. “But—why? Didn’t Lucifer create it for you?”

That was the second dumbest thing Pride had ever been asked in his life. “I fell with Lucifer. Hell was waiting for us—it existed before we ever got there.”

The silence was not awkward this time. It was electrified with unspoken questions. Pride spun through a dozen different ones—mostly consisting of What the fuck? in different volumes—and watched Justice silently spin through a dozen more. When it seemed like neither of them would ever speak again, Pride blurted out the first thing that landed on his tongue.

“Is that what they teach you about us?” he asked.

It was Justice’s turn to snort. “Most of that was my own guesses. Heaven doesn’t teach us anything beyond the basics.”

Pride didn’t need an elaboration past that—he could figure out for himself what “basics” an angel in the army of God would learn about a demon. That they were singularly focused on bringing down Heaven, by any means necessary.

“Things have definitely changed,” he mused.

“Changed how?”

“Back when I fell, all anybody could talk about was Lucifer’s rebellion, and how crazy it was that demons existed.” Pride stretched his arms over his head in perverse satisfaction. “I guess being the new kids on the block meant more back then.”

Justice didn’t share his enthusiasm, watching him gently. “You were part of the rebellion?”

“Oh, sure. I even had a hand in planning it.”

“Really.”

It was a bluff that almost no one would be able to check him on, especially not Justice, so Pride plastered on his favorite smug smile. “Really. No big deal.”

Justice didn’t look totally convinced—not that Pride needed him to be—but nodded along. “I can see why you wouldn’t miss Hell. Plus everything else.”

Pride just made a noise, pretty done with the conversation. Reliving his very, very short glory days aside, there was little else he had to say. Homesickness was as foreign to him as humanity. Earth was slightly better than Purgatory. It was a hundred times better than Hell, not that Hell was a very high bar. So to be honest, there was nothing else Pride had to say about this.

“Do you miss Heaven, then?”

He froze. All feeling drained out of his body until he was cold, still, and strained. He forced his mind blank so he wouldn’t think of anything.

When he didn’t respond, Justice tried again. “I know it’s been a while, but you were an ang—”

“If you finish that sentence, your teeth go out with it.”

Pride jumped off the couch, rattling with the desire to go somewhere, anywhere else. He planted his feet, eyes spinning around the room. His tail lashed around his ankles, appearing out of thin air. Thick, black smoke poured from his horns like the mouth of a volcano.

“I—I’m sorry,” Justice tried. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t miss Heaven,” Pride snarled. “I never fucking liked it there to begin with, and as far as your kind are concerned, I was never one of you.”

His nerves snapped into motion and his legs carried him away. Pride didn’t care where he was going, barely noticed his hand reaching out the door, could hardly see the outside world through the scarlet haze covering his eyes.

Someone was going to sin tonight. Badly.