#ok confession time I never played this game

[strawberri-draws]

Canon coffee shop au gal..

[dyketennant]

oh i can already tell i’m about to have some really unpopular opinions about the edge of sleep tv show

[deansapplepie]

daryl vanilla sex 🫣

Sex Deck

Summary: You’re having a dinner with one of your closest friends, and you just bought a deck of cards from Princess which is to play a friendly game. You just didn’t know the deck wasn’t friendly at all.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, sex, talks about sex, a sex deck, smut, virgin reader, virginity loss, age gap (but reader is probably around her late 20s/ early 30s), p in v, fingering, oral (female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (you know better than this kids), bad written smut, etc. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

Word Count: 5,4 k

A/N: this was a request for Vanilla sex with Daryl and as I had never written anything virgin reader related, I thought it was a good time to try it. This is not proofread, I have been writing it for months already. Started in Colombia and finished writing in Brazil. My summary sucks. I hope this goes with the expectations of the person who requested and all of you can enjoy it.

You had invited Daryl to your house that night, you’d make burgers and you’d drink beer. You had found a card game in a store in the Commonwealth, you were told to play with friends at parties. So you thought, why not? When the outbreak happened you were very young and didn’t have the opportunity to party like other people.

You stayed for some years with a group, but your life really changed when you found Alexandria. You were alone, you had just lost your family and most people thought you were crazy when you talked about a weird herd of Walkers that seemed to be intelligent, until it started happening to all of them.

You made friends, between them Daryl Dixon and now that you were in the comfort of Commonwealth you weren’t changing that. When the bell of your small apartment rang, you knew it was him. When you opened the door and he saw you he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “A dress? Never saw ya wearing a dress” he observed, you were always wearing jeans and boots.

“Well, now that we’re relatively safe I can wear a dress and be comfortable at home. You should try.” You said.

“Wearing a dress? Nah, thank you. It’s not ma style.” He joked while entering the apartment.

“Being comfortable asshole…” you answered closing the door behind you and heading back ti the kitchen where you were finishing the preparatives for the burgers.

“I thought ya were joking about the burgers.” He observed leaning on the counter.

“I’d never joke about it, I’m really trying to do my best with what we have. It will be nice of it tastes like in the old days.” You finished chopping some vegetables while the burgers finished grilling. “I really liked those kind of food.”

“I wasn’t one for it… to be honest didn’t have the opportunity to eat it many times.” Daryl confessed, a little embarrassed, sometimes he forgot how different his experiences could be from other people’s, especially you, you were younger than him and it bothered him in more ways than he would like to admit.

“It’s ok. Nothing wrong with that. I hope you enjoy mine, well… I hope I also enjoy it, we have more access to things here but it’s still limited.” You finished setting the burgers with vegetables and the bread. “I think it’s ready.”

You ate The hamburger contently, it was delicious even with the limited ingredients you had. Daryl devoured it, for him it was the best burger he had ever ate in his life and he was kinda old so it had to mean something

When you both finished eating you sat on your sofa, beers in hand and you took the pile of cards you had bought earlier. “Look, I got this cards with some questions and challenges for friends to play.” You said excitedly. “It’s gonna be nice, I didn’t have the opportunity to play it before the world ended.”

“Oh yeah? I never hear about it, not popular around my time I guess.” He observed.

You took the cards from your bag, you hadn’t really looked at them before and they looked beautiful, a little aged but the red hearts on the back of the cards were really pretty.

“How’s that played?” He asked observing the cards, he had a weird feeling about it.

“I don’t know, there was no instructions and I never played it. Let’s just take a card at a time, we read it and we both answer, maybe the challenge we tell the other to do?” You had no idea what to do, your time to be a “kid” and mess around had stayed on the past and you couldn’t live it.

“Okay.” He agreed, you put the cards between you too.

“Since, I’m a nice person, you can take the first one.” You said before taking a sip from your beer, damn was this expired or was it just bad?

He didn’t believe he was really playing a silly game with you. If it was some years ago, he would have rolled his eyes at you, said some shit and telling you to forget it. But he couldn’t it was you, the one that caught his eyes immediately when he returned to Alexandria during the period he was away and had that gentle smile for him. The one that brought a smile to the corner of his mouth while playing with little Judith. The one that prepared delicious different food and shared with him. The one that started to visit him by the river to take supplies, kind words and silly toys for his dog.

“Nice person…” he snorted, he knew you were afraid of what could be the first card and let him do the job. He extended his hand and took the first card. He furrowed his browns when he read the question.

“What’s it?” You asked curiously.

He wasn’t really sure how this kind of question was in a deck of a game for friends, but times were changing so he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. “Ugh… how was yer first time?”

As soon as the question left his lips he instantly blushed and you almost choked on your beer. “What?”

“That’s the question.” He passed you the card so you could read. “Well, maybe this is something friends should talk openly… I dunno.”

“Er… maybe… you should start then. You took the card.” You threw the bomb right back at him.

He cleared his throat, it was difficult to talk about the theme even with Carol that was his old friend, talking it with you felt like sin. “It was weird, I was young the girl was older than me… I dunno.” He felt just like a teenage boy at that moment, when he was far from being one. “Yer turn.”

“Hmm…” what could you possibly say, he had had a bad experience but it was better than… “I… I can’t answer that.”

“Come on, I answered it.” He told you nudging your leg with his.

“I… it’s not that I don’t want to answer it. I really can’t. I never did it.” You finally answered the question, now the terrible beer looking very interesting.

He cleared his throat. He was half shoked and half embarassed. It was impressive a lady your age that had never experienced the delights of life, but he also could feel how it was embarassing for you having to tell that to a man. “Ok, let’s take another card.”

He reached for the deck and completely ignored it was your time. His eyes popped when he saw the next card, it was a challenge. “Why?” He asked instead.

‘The next question can’t be why’, you thought. That was weird. “That can’t be the next question Daryl. You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not, it’s the next question.” He lied and it was clear it was a lie, but you answered, it was him after all.

“I was young when the world ended, not very popular before. So yeah. That’s why.” You answered.

As soon as you finished answering you reached to take a card, but he was faster than you and took another one.

“In case you don’t know we should take turns to take the cards.” You complained.

“Ya never explained the rules sweetheart, in fact ya didn’t even know them. Next question…” He looked at the next card and… what the fuck in the fuckering fucks was this deck? Because for sure it wasn’t a deck for friends to enjoy. “How would be your ideal first time?”

What the hell was this questions? He couldn’t be reading the cards. He was messing with you for sure. “In a bed!?” You answered the obvious. “It can’t be the real question, you’re messing up with me. Give those cards, I wanna read them.”

“I ain’t giving you shit.” He answered and you could just think he was being a prick.

You tried to reach it, leaning your self in his direction, extending your arms and hands. It was a lost cause, he was bigger than you taller than you, he extended his arm in the opposite direction. You were practically on his lap trying to reach the pieces of paper in his hands when you lost your balance and fell sitting right into him.

“Who sold this deck of cards to ya?” He asked, now holding you in place.

“Why?” You could have answered, but now you were a little angry at him for not letting you read the cards.

“Who sold ya this?” He asked again, firmly.

“Princess, she told me it was a friends game and we would have fun.” You explained. Damn, he couldn’t beat her ass…

“Ya didn’t even took a look at this, did ya?

“No, I was in a hurry and I just took it. I was happy we would have something different to do.” You answered.

“Hmm…” he hummed, his fingers delicately tracing forms on your arm and waist. “Read them.” He gave you the 2 last cards he had took from the deck.

‘Challenge: Kiss your partner’s ear.’

‘Question: Would you do a threeway?’

You almost choked when you read the cards. What were these? You took the rest of the deck and couldn’t believe on all the things you were reading. Princess had sold you a Sex Deck or something. “I… I didn’t know.”

“I know. Now, my questions were better, weren’t they?”

“They weren’t more innocent.” You observed.

“Hm…” he didn’t released the hold on you, you didn’t move to leave. “But how would you like it be?”

‘With you’, you thought. You didn’t have the courage to voice it so openly. “In a comfortable place probably, so in my bed. With a person I trust, older probably…”

Older… did you have anyone in mind? Who did you know that was older than you and you trust? He started to make a list of people on his mind.

“Do ya have anyone in mind?” Very subtle Daryl. Very subtle.

“I…” You took a quick glance at him. Why did he keep doing this questions? And why did you keep answering them? “Older, tall, broad shoulders, a provider and protector, probably someone that can hunt…” Fuck you were describing him, was it too obvious? Damn everything. You looked at him. “Medium length wavy brown hair, blue eyes, serious, sometimes let out a cute smile…”

Was it possible that his heart stopped? Because he felt like it. Were you really describing him? Or maybe there was someone with those same characteristics that you liked? “Do I know that guy?”

“I’d say yes…”blush. Blush. Blush. Avert his eyes. That was it, you could lose everything. Which means him, but you had put yourself in this situation even if by mistake. “I’m talking about you.”

Silence.

Silence in the room. But not on both of your heads that were now pure chaos and inner screaming. “D’ya mean that?”

“Only if it’s not ruining things between us.” You were already regretting all of that.

“Nothing could ever ruin things between us.” Daryl said, if he thought his heart had stopped beating before, it was working on full force right now. Specially with you still so close and sitting on his lap. “Can I kiss ya?”

“Yeah…” You whispered as if you spoke any louder something would break.

Silence again. This time with expectation. He neared his face to yours and you held your breath. His lips grazed over yours, you wanted it for so long… you wanted him since you saw him entering the gates of Alexandria, Jude on his arms after rescuing her with Michonne.

The hesitation in him made you close the smallest of the gaps there were between you and pressed your lips against his. That awoke him and his lips started moving with yours. He first took his time knowing your lips, gods… did he want to do that for a long time already. Not even in his wildest dreams he could imagine it would come true. You opened your mouth slightly giving him access to your mouth, you could now savor his taste like you imagined many many times before. One of his hands locked fingers with your hair near your nape, the other holding one of your thighs. You tangled your arms around his neck, one hand caressing his brown locks.

You wanted him closer, you needed him. He needed you closer, he wanted you. There was no way you could be closer than this… unless he was inside of you. At the same time Daryl was lost in his mind he came back to his senses and slowly broke your kiss. “We shouldn’t do that. Ya drank.”

“I didn’t even drink half of the bottle, Daryl. This beer is horrible. I’ve wanted you for nearly 6 years, I don’t think I’m stopping any moment soon.” You looked at his face, your eyes buried deep inside of his. “If you want me, I want you.”

“I dun know if I know how to be delicate.” He said, ironically, caressing your face delicately. Damn, you’ve wanted him basically for the same amount of time he has wanted you.

“I don’t mind as long as it’s you” you answered. “I know you’re gonna try.”

“I’ve wanted ya for a long time, sweetheart.” He gave you a kiss on your cheek. And another. He descended his kisses to your jaw, he went up kissing under your ear, your earlobe… getting a mix of a squeal and a moan from you.

You were still sitting across his lap, his right hand made his way up your thighs lifting the dress you had on. He licked, kissed and bit your neck when his hand found your clothed pretty much wet pussy. “Ya’re so wet, sweetheart…” An open mouthed kiss on your neck. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He nibbled your skin.

“I’m a virgin, not a saint Daryl.” You were as sassy as you could while the man melted you into a pool. He put your panties aside, his fingers finally meeting your heat.

“And what do ya think about when ya do so?” He wanted to ask who you thought about. He wanted to ask if you thought about him.

“I think about…” He pressed your clit making you gasp. “…about you, touching me, fu-fucking me.”

His fingers ran through your folds while his thumb pressured your clit caressing it in circles. Moans escaping your lips as jolts of pleasure ran through your body. “Daryl… kiss me, please”

“What a cute needy thing ya’re…” He said his lips already covering yours. He teased your entrance with his index finger while still playing with your bundle of nerves. When his finger entered you, you held him strongly, it was a weird sensation his finger inside of you, but as he kept moving it inside of you, kissed you and pressed your clit, it passed and all you could think about was about the pleasure he was making you feel. Your moans were muffled by his kisses and your hips bucked against his hand. Fuck, your fingers could never do it so good like him.

He broke the kiss, but his fingers never stopped. Your walls clenched around his finger while he added a second one. You gasped, you moaned… a different sensation. “Daryl…”

“It’s ok, baby…” he whispered in a soothing way, while still working on you feeling you contracting against his fingers. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah… does…” You didn’t even had words anymore, you just wanted to give in to the feelings.

“Yer so pretty like this, totally surrendered…” He whispered on your ear, his raspy voice sending tingles through your body, his fingers pressing all the right places over and over again. “Do ya wanna let go sweetheart? Let it go, let me see that pretty face of yours when ya cum.”

You never believed someone could cum because a person told them to. But there you were throwing your head and arching your back in pure ecstasy after hearing the words from Daryl’s lips. You felt like you were floating, your head a dizzy mess that no alcohol would be able to do something similar. Your body trembled while your walls contracted against his fingers. Your hands in fists on his shirt, while you waited that euphoric wave to subdue.

“Daryl…” You hid your face on his neck, your nose caressing his skin and your breath sending chills all over him.

“Ya good sweetheart?” He asked, his free hand now roaming your back.

“Yeah, super good…” You answered.

“Do ya want to continue?” Gosh? He really wanted to keep going, but it was you and he had to be a gentleman even if he thought he was the farthest thing from it.

“This isn’t even a question Daryl, the answer is yes. Always going to be yes.” Your hands went to both sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his one more time, needier, hungrier, eagerly… You could get used to it, kissing him, you’d have to. He was now prohibited on not kissing you, you needed his kisses like a fish needed water.

He reciprocated, of course he reciprocated, if he was living the dream he was going to leave it properly. The hand that touched you just a few minutes before went under your legs and got up with you on his arms and walked in your bedroom's direction. You had said you wanted a bed, hadn’t you?

Your feet landed softly on the floor, but you didn’t break the kiss, your arms tangled around his neck trying to bring him closer into you. His hands traveled down your body finding their rest on your butt, he had looked at them before, but touching… he tugged at the hem of your dress bringing it up your middle, your breasts just to painfully break the kiss and take it off by your head.

“Yer too damn beautiful sweetheart…” He said taking you in.

“You’re making me shy, Daryl” You said your fingers battling with the buttons of his shirt while your eyes were fixed on his face, the way he looked at you, he hasn’t done it before.

“Ya shy? The one who bought the sex cards…” he teased you, that same look on his face but a smirk on his lips.

“You know I was fooled into buying it.” You answered. “Wouldn’t buy if knew it.”

“And we probably wouldn’t be here now.”

“Probably not.” You took his shirt off revealing his torso, he was handsome. All those scars had a story which made him who he was. His manly body, his small fluffy stomach… you wanted to lick him.

He captured your lips with his one more time and guided you to the bed getting you sat and kneeling between your legs. His hands went up your back and opened your bra with an easiness that you wondered if you should be concerned, he slid it off and soon his hands were engulfing them.

Your hands touched his abdomen with such delicacy that he thought he was in heaven, your fingers ran up and down and to the sides. Casually brushing on the hem of his pants. You undid his belt while sweet moans escaped into his mouth. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and your hands were going incredibly south.

“Take it easy, baby. Today’s ‘bout ya.” His hands that played with your nipples went lower touching your curves and ending on each side of your panties. “And I’m still taking care of ya.”

“Is it prohibited to touch you, or something?” You asked, your hands tentatively half the way to hover his aching cock still protected by his boxers.

“Absolutely not, just… don’t feel obligated to, I wanna this be good for ya, right?” He prohibiting you from touching him? he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him, he’d be completely at your mercy, that is if that night wasn’t the very night he was introducing you to the practice. Then he tugged lightly on each side of your panties and asked you “is it okay if I take these out?”

“Yes, it is. Daryl, I give you consent for everything, so please just do it.” You said. It was cute him being so careful and asking you all the way through, but damn you trusted this man with your life, he could do everything he wanted to you.

“Eager, are we?” He teased you one more time, before sliding your panties down your legs and take a good look at you. “We did a pretty mess here, didn’t we?”

His hands went up and down your legs stopping on your thighs, he lowered his face to kiss your inner thighs, starting right where your knees started and going real close to your core that was aching for him. Just to go back and start the same process with the other side. The sounds that came out of your mouth were sweet and gave him the fuel he needed to keep going.

His facial hair was tickling you and adding to the pleasurable sensations going through your body, at the same time you sighed with bliss you giggled with it. That was till the moment his lips made contact with your pussy, at first a small kiss on your clit, then an open mouth kiss to your center. You gasped, you trembled, you bucked against him.

Instinctively your hand went to rest on his head, your fingers finding his brown locks. He didn’t complained, he just grunted while he made out with your pussy. “Oh, Daryl…” you had no words to say, only moans and his name.

He took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder. “Scoot over, sweetheart.” As he commanded you did, moving yourself up in the bed while his face was buried between your thighs. “Lay down and just enjoy, darling”.

You did as he said, at this moment you’d do anything he asked. If he told you to jump from a bridge, you’d jump from the damn bridge. You mewled as you felt his tongue all over you.

He moved his lips to suck at your clit making your hips buck into his face, with one hand holding on your thigh, he took the other right at your heat again. This time when his finger entered your warm sweet cave it didn’t feel foreign anymore, it felt familiar as if it belonged there. Your fingers massaged his scalp while you whimpered at his stimulation. As his fingers curved inside of you and hit that spot, you contracted against him, a signal you were close.

He got more engaged on his ministrations, he wanted you to reach your peek one more time. He wanted your juices all over his face. Gods! He wanted you well prepared for when he finally put his dick where it belonged, inside of you. When you came, you came harder than the first time, a mess of moans of his name and little cries of pleasure. Of course you weren’t aware of it, you were too lost in the bliss.

He helped you through your high, till it passed. He got his head up from between your folds, his face glistening with your cum. He squeezed your thighs seeing you didn’t seem to be back yo this world. “Ya there sweetheart?”

His voice brought you back to reality. “I’m here.”, you finally answered he crawled the bed to look in your face, his knew and thigh between your legs.

“Ya’re doing so well, baby.”, he said right before kissing you slowly and sweet, the taste of you inside his mouth mixing with the flavor of your mouths. Your hands traveling from his head, to his neck and shoulders, sliding down his arms and finding it’s way down his chest. Your hand finally palming him over the fabric of his boxers. He hissed, the feeling too much for him to take. Your pretty little hands weren’t even touching his skin and he felt his control slipping through his fingers. Damn he was feeling like a teenager, he’d cum right there if he didn’t took control over again.

You slid your hand inside bringing him outside, your hand slowly going up and down on his skin. He tried to hold on, keep composed, you were exploring and he was loving every minute of it, he had to let you before taking control again. Your hand moved from the base to the tip of his dick, delicate and precise. “Darling, I can’t let you keep with it… I’ll not be able to hold it if you continue.”

While you did it you analyzed it, it was big, tick and veiny. It was beautiful and glorious, you wondered how would it be to have it inside of you.. you even wondered how it would be to do other things with it, like putting it in your mouth. “Sorry, just wanted to feel it…” you managed to say, almost pouting.

“Sweetheart, don’t be sorry. Do you have any idea for how long I wanted you? I’m… so excited that I’m losing control.” He confessed, it was cute, you let go of it and took your hands back to his face and neck.

“It’s ok, I share the same feeling. That’s why I couldn’t help myself.” You confessed looking into his eyes, raising your head to peck on his lips. “You can have me Daryl…”

“If ya ever want to stop, just let me know, al’ight?” He said, eyes on yours, noses brushing.

“It’s ok.” You answered capturing his lips in yours right after and closing your eyes.

You kissed slowly, tenderly and intensely. Both of you shifting your bodies into more comfortable positions while doing so. He stopped the kiss, giving your lips some pecks before speaking. “It’s not gonna be like my fingers, are ya ready?”

“Yes, please.” You looked at his blue eyes and felt he was more worried than you. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he knew that was the only way of doing it, the only way for your first time. At least he had tried preparing you, he didn’t know of it was going to work, he never had a woman that hadn’t experienced it before. “It’s gonna be ok, Daryl…”

“Ok, love…” the words rolled from his lips easily before he could notice them.

He kissed you again, passionately, his hands traveling down your body. He took a handful of your thighs pressing your body more against his, you could feel his hardness pretty much alive rubbing against your sensitive folds. He stopped the kissing again, looking at your eyes and you nodded as if you said ‘yes, do it. Let’s start.’.

He pumped his cock, spreading your moisture on it before positioning it at your entrance. He pressed it against you, slowly trying to make his way in, to break the barriers and do what both of you wanted. He pushed himself inside little by little, the stretch felt like too much to start with it, but you held yourself like a big girl and when he finally broke that barrier the stretch was nothing compared to the burning sensation you felt down there, tears automatically coming to your eyes. “Definitely not your fingers…”, you wanted it to be a joke, but sounded more like a complaint.

“Wanna stop baby?” He asked hands caressing your face and hair. You shook your head unable to answer. He kissed the tears from your face, one of his hands traveling down to your clit, rubbing and pressing it in hopes the pain you felt would go away. “Whenever you’re ready to continue sweetheart.” He said kissing your neck.

As he pressed and rubbed your clit the pain started to subdue and you started to feel mote pf him and the jolts of pleasure being sent throughout your body. The way your walls contracted around him a signal your body was now accepting him. “I’m ready…” you said when he could continue and he continued to move until he bottomed out, not very difficult with all the slickness inside of you.

When he finished going all the way in, you let out a moan while he grunted. He started moving slowly, not going out too much. You braced yourself on him, your arms going around him and your hands soothingly slipping on his skin. He increased the speed in small portions, never going too fast, but now going almost the way out just to go back again.

You felt in a very sensual dance with him, the way his body moved against yours and the way your body responded to his as if you were in sink. Sighs and moans left your lips, making a symphony he so much enjoyed. “Sweetheart, ya feel so good… so tight. Ya’re doing so well.”

He kept on caressing your head, his fingers moving on your hair, his eyes never leaving yours recording in his memory every reaction he saw in you.

“Oh , Daryl… please…” Even in a heated moment like this, he thought you were so cute.

“Please what, baby? What do ya want?” He nuzzled your neck, his voice hoarser from lust.

“More, I want more… please…” You pleaded by his ear, so driven by him that you just wanted more of whatever he could offer you.

“As ya wish sweetheart” He didn’t increase his speed, but increased his precision looking for that spongy place inside of you that would make you see starts. When he hit it for the first time yesterday you moaned/screamed at the feeling huge if compared to his fingers doing the exact same thing.

After it he continued trying hit it over and y again, his fingers drawing circles on your bundle of nerves. You a complete mess, surrendered to him, closer and closer to your sweet destination as your walls spasmed around him. “Are ya close, love? It’s ok, ya can cum… I’ll go right after ya.”

With a few more trusts of him, you came messy and hard, your vision getting white as your body convulsed held by him. He kept trusting inside you and as your walls held him so tightly, he got to same place as you. Ridding both your highs for as long as he could.

His body collapsed on top of you, the crushing sensation of his body over you making you feel safe and protected. Both your breaths trying to regulate your fingers massaging his scalp and running on his hair while his mouth couldn’t help but press little soft kisses on the skin on your shoulder. When both of you had calmed down, he propped himself to look at you. “Are you ok? How do ya feel?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” You said looking at his face. “It was so good. Thank you…”

“Sweetheart, don’t have to thank me for that.” Gods, he was the one that need to be thankful. “I guess it’s time we take care of ya.”

He pulled out of you, immediately regretting and missing your warm walls. He went through your things looking for a towel he could use and found a small one. He returned to find you sprawled on bed with both of your cums and a little bit of blood, leaking from you. “Damn… I could get used to this view.” He didn’t think before speaking.

“You can get used to this.” You said, he could see it everyday if he wanted to.

He used the towel to clean you and afterwards the bed. When he finished taking care of you, he laid by your side, covering your bodies under a comfy blanket. You laid your head on his chest while he held you in his arms and you could listen to his heartbeat.

“I was serious when I said you could get used to this. You could have this everyday if it depends on me.”

His heart skipped a beat or two listening to your words. If you wanted him, he would have you like this everyday. Instead of letting his past insecurities overcome him, he decided now was the perfect time to use that sassy remark you threw at him earlier. “Will ya show me how you’re not a saint in the next times?”

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[bewaryofpity]

Hiii please could I request smut #5 for luke hughes please? x

thank you for requesting ! 🩵

5. “Is this ok?” As they stare up at you from in between your legs.

.

When Luke had confessed a week into your relationship that he was inexperienced you were surprised, but when he told you he never even received a blowjob before, you were actually left speechless.

“But you went to college?”

“Yeah, well, I just… I don’t do hook ups. Ever, clearly.” He mumbled defensively. He disliked the thought of sleeping with someone he barely knew, leaving and never seeing each other again. He found it a bit disgusting, especially when his friend flaunted the amount of girls they slept with in a month, and it was even more so when the guys couldn’t remember their names.

It wasn’t something to be ashamed of, and you reminded him every time your kissing would get too heated and he would stiffen under your touch, reassuring him you woundn’t do anything he wasn’t ready for. He wanted to take the next step so badly, be yours more than just calling himself your boyfriend, but all the insecurities would get the best of him and he chickened out every single time. But you were so sweet and understanding you never pushed him, you took your time with him which already made Luke dizzy any other day.

And just like any post game evening, you were sitting on his couch, knees touching his thighs, listening to his rambling about his plays from the game earlier. He looked way too good with his hair still a bit damp, bundled up in a hoodie and sweats, that your hand couldn’t help but move upwards from his bicep to his shoulder, then up in the curls at the back of his head.

His words faltered at your actions and when he turned around to see if you were still listening, you had a hazy smirk on your lips.

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.” Of course you weren’t, you were absorbed in the feel of his body under your touch, how his muscles clenched as your fingertips traced the veins on his arms.

“What was the las — Oh.” Luke’s mouth hung slightly open as you propped yourself in his lap, your arms circling his neck.

“Keep nerding, baby, it turns me on.”

“R-Really?”

“Mmh.” You hummed, rolling your hips once before leaning in to press a kiss at the corner of his mouth, his surprised expression turning you on even more. Your kiss heated up quickly when you bit at his lip, Luke moaning in your mouth like it was his first time kissing you.

It wasn’t long before Luke felt impatient, needy for more and you could feel it, his pants straining his hard on, his hands gripping tightly at your hips and you knew he was trying to hold himself back. So you placed one more kiss on his soft lips, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs and silently asking if he was alright, if he wanted more now.

Getting off his lap and sitting on your knees on the ground between his legs, you never averted your gaze from his, mindful of every small movement. Your hands stroked his thighs, clenching under your touch, and he parted them more to let you in.

“Is this okay?” You whispered, fingers playing with the strings of his sweatpants. Your eyes grew darker as he nodded eagerly. And you gently pushed his sweats and boxers down to his ankles, removing them completely, his cock standing high, tip red and already leaking.

“Just as pretty as I imagined.” You said, shifting closer in between his legs. He took a sharp inhale at your words, not fully processing what was happening. “Tell me if I ever need to stop.”

“Never… please.” His voice shook, in excitement or anxiety you didn’t know, but after a few pumps of your hand, your lips finally wrapped around his flushed tip, taking him inch by inch in your mouth. And Luke knew then that he was already obsessed with this.

[girlokwhatever]

Emily engstler x passenger princess!reader go on a road trip

can be one shot/headcannon

emily engstler x passenger princess!gf hcs

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜ emily engstler and passenger princess gf on a roadtrip,,

— it’s……. so chaotic

— she’s trying to body slam all of your bags into the trunk while you sit and watch

- you always ask if she wants help but she says no.

— once the two of you finally get on the road she’s a little more relaxed

— her hand is immediately on some part of your body

- hand, shoulder, back of your neck, thighs, anywhere she can reach tbh

— you guys listen to sapphic music together!!

- she’s always giving you the aux 🤗

— if the roadtrip is late at night she gets really sappy for some reason

- always giving some love-drunk confession

- “i can’t wait to marry you.”

- “i always felt like green was your color baby.”

- “i love it when you hum.”

— “can i have a kiss?”

- “but you’re driving?”

- “doesn’t matter.”

— she ALWAYS insists on driving

— she also always tries to pack you snacks for the road and a blanket so you can be cozy

— “oh my god that fast food is making my car stink so bad.”

- “no im pretty sure that’s your attitude stinking it up in here.”

— you need to use the bathroom every hour…..

— windows down on summer days >>>>

— “you look so pretty right now.”

— if you brought a book to read she’ll ask if you can read it out loud

— “i’m so hungry i’m gonna eat you emily.”

- “i wouldn’t mind.”

— “baby don’t put your feet on the dash, that’s dangerous.”

— even though she packs you snacks you always end up getting something at the gas station or some fast food restaurant

— you always get out of the car with her at the gas station because you just want to hold and kiss her

- it’s been awhile and you miss her

— “can i get a chip please?”

- you feed it to her 🤗

— you guys play stupid games together to help the time pass

- “ok.. lemme think. oh! ok ok i got one. she’s a ten buuuuttttt she never brushes her teeth.”

- “ew what?! gross. zero. she’s a zero.”

— you’re always taking scenic photos

— sometimes you like to video the roadtrip just for cute memories

— “babe there’s something in the road..”

- “OH SHIT”

- “OH MY GOD OH MY FUCK! DONT SWERVE LIKE THAT EM.”

— “i forgot my water so im gonna drink some of yours.”

— she tries to keep you awake as long as possible but you falling asleep is just inevitable

- will talk your ear off anyway

— emily likes to take pictures of you when you fall asleep

- when she shows you said pictures you get mad because,

- “why are you on your phone if you’re driving.”

— “you look really cozy over there…”

- “i am. thanks for noticing.”

- gives you the most diabolical side-eye

— lets not talk about that time you teased her though……. iykyk

— she likes holding your hand and kissing your knuckles

- says it helps her focus

— you like holding her hand and playing with her fingers or tracing her tattoos

— “are we almost there?!”

— you always wear fluffy socks 🤗🤗🤗

— you guys always scream song lyrics together LMAO

— “that sign says tennessee but babe.. you’re the only ten i see.”

- “please never speak again.”

— you always lean the seat all the way back

- it pisses emily off LOL

— “babe i think you need to put your shoes back on.. somethings stinks..”

-……….

- “OW! babe i was just joking.”

˚ · .·˚ ༘*ೃ༄ʬ꩜

enjoy!!!

i had to make this twice cause i accidentally swiped out right as i finished it…….. 👹

[pucksandpower]

Ruin the Friendship

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead

You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.

The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.

As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.

After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.

Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.

You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.

Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”

You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”

He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”

“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”

Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.

As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.

You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.

“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”

You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”

“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.

You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”

You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.

“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.

Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”

You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”

He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”

Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.

And Max wants you to be his.

“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”

Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.

You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.

Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.

You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.

As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.

“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.

You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.

The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.

On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”

But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.

***

Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.

You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”

You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”

Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”

You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”

“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”

“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.

Suddenly, you get a text from Max.

SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!

You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”

Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”

Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”

You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.

Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”

And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.

***

A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.

When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”

Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”

You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.

You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.

You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.

“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.

Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”

Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”

You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”

Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”

You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.

Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.

You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”

You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”

But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.

Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.

Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”

You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.

“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”

Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.

“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.

Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”

You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”

And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.

***

After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.

The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.

You find a note on the kitchen counter:

Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.

<3 Max

You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.

You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.

After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.

As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”

You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”

Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”

Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”

Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”

“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”

Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.

You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”

“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.

He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”

You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”

You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”

And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.

“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.

“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”

You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.

***

The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.

Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?

You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”

He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”

Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”

You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”

Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”

You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”

“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”

“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.

The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.

[michelleleewise]

Can I have a story where reader has a huge crush on loki (reader won't admit they're inlove tho) and wants to be his in every aspect? She doesn't want to confess because she knows she'll get rejected and knows she's not his type. Though reader maybe sneaky, they forget that loki can sometimes read minds. They play this cat-and-mouse game it may or may not lead to smut 👀 I kind of had this idea by listening to "I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Thank you so much <3

Hiiiii!!! I'm sorry this took so long to get to!!!! But thank you so much for sending it to me!! I hope you like it!!! 💚💚💚

====================================

Thinking of You

Pairing: Avenger Loki x female reader

Warnings: swearing, mild yelling, mind reading, self esteem issues, NSFW, masturbation, mildly rough sex (nothing graphic), if I missed anything let me know!! 💚

Summary: Everytime you see Loki your thoughts run wild....unbeknownst to you, he can hear them too...

A/n- sorry this took so long!!! It's probably terrible, I'm a bit rusty......sorry!!!!! 💚💚

"No the other way." You urged into the coms, swiping between screens on the computer screen like a maniac trying to guide the team to where they needed to be. "Y/n, where is it!?" Tony yelled into his earpiece making you wince "there is no need to yell Stark" You heard Loki's smooth voice sound in your ear making you sigh "that's easy for you to say Rudolph, you aren't surrounded by agents." Tony said when you heard an explosion echo into you ear. "Do stop complaining Stark." Loki said when you heard a grunt sound through Loki's coms "you are becoming rather insufferable." He continued making you giggle "I swear laufeyson, when we get back..." Tony started when you heard Thor's booming voice join the conversation "would you two please desist with this nonsense!" Thor yelled making you jump.

"Yes, please silence yourself stark....now darling which way do we go?" Loki asked into his earpiece, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine "i...I...let me see" you said searching the map again "take your...umph...time darling, no rush." Loki purred into your ear as you heard a thud on his end. "Ok, everyone needs to get to Loki's location, that's where the serum is." You said pulling up everyone's position, "aaah, Right again I see." Loki laughed into his earpiece "shut up Loki." Thor bellowed into his coms "come now, jealousy does not suit you brother." Loki mocked making you laugh "something funny agent?" You heard Tony snark into the coms "no sir, sorry." You said looking down at your hands.

You listened as the team completed the mission, bickering the entire time. If you were honest you weren't sure how they didn't kill eachother everytime they went on a mission. "Alright, back to the jet everyone." Tony said. "I thank you for your assistance lady y/n." Loki purred into the earpiece making your cheeks heat up "y...you welcome Loki "Alright romeo let's go...shutting down coms, see you back at the tower." Tony said as the line went silent. You took a deep breath pulling your earpiece out when Nat walked over leaning on your desk "quite the sweet talker isn't he?" She asked making you giggle "well they do call him silvertongue." You said trying to not look at her "yeah, makes you wonder what else he can do with his tongue." She said as you stood up "Natasha!" You whisper yelled making her laugh "oh come on, we all know how you feel about him." She said as you grabbed a stack of files quickly turning "I don't know what your talking about." You said making your way to the filing cabinets.

"Y/n, why don't you just talk to him?" She asked following you "I do talk to him." You snapped hoping she would let it go "you know what I mean y/n." She scolded crossing her arms "because..." you sighed setting the files down "because there will never be a universe where he feels the same." You said opening the filing cabinet "you don't know that, the way he talks to you..." She started when you slammed the drawer shut "I'm not stupid nat, he's just being polite...letting his princely charm ooze out of him. I've seen I him do it at parties." You said closing your eyes "I'm not special, he doesn't like me and he never will...why would he?" You asked walking back towards your desk "um, your funny, smart, witty.." nat said continuing to follow you "plain, ordinary...boring." you huffed grabbing your bag "y/n seriously..." you cut her off lifting your hand "no, he doesn't know...he'll never know." You said walking towards the door, stopping in the doorway "I...I don't think I could handle that rejection." You said before walking out heading towards your apartment

You spent the next few days chained to your desk, stacks of mission reports to go through and file from the last mission. Looking up rubbing your eyes seeing you had worked past your lunch "I need a break." You sighed closing the file you were working on as you stood up. Grabbing your coffee mug you made your way to the break room and the espresso machine Tony had recently installed. After choosing what you wanted you leaned your head against the cabinet waiting for the machine to do its thing, praying it would hurry when what nat said the other day ran through your mind does everyone really know....am I that obvious? You thought when the loud beep pulled you from your thoughts. "Thank god." You breathed bringing the cup to your lips taking a small sip you closed your eyes feeling the caffeine touch your soul "mmmhhh." You moaned with a sigh.

"Now that is a sound I could get used to." A deep voice behind you said, your eyes shooting open as you turned seeing Loki leaning against the doorway his arms crossed, the buttons of his white shirt straining against his chest "l...loki w...what are you doing here?" You asked setting the cup down "oh, some nonsense of starks." He said pushing off the doorframe sliding his hands in the pockets of his tight black jeans "something about not completing my reports." He shrugged taking a step into the room "o..oh, um he didn't say anything to me." You said fidgeting with your fingers "well let's be honest, when have you known stark to be organized?" He asked making you laugh "so, naturally I came to you to see if there were any...discrepancies." He purred coming to stand in front of you, his cologne wafting between you making you sigh god he smells good you thought hearing loki laugh "do you like the cologne? I just purchased it." He asked smiling "oh...yeah! Your...rrr I mean it...it's good." You stuttered watching his smile widen

"well darling, if you wouldn't mind may I....come with you?" He asked, the baritone in his voice stirring something inside you I'll be coming later you thought remembering all the nights you touched yourself at the thought of his large hands roaming your body, his deep voice whispering how much he wanted you in your ear. You bit your lip seeing him raise an eyebrow at you "er...um sorry...what were you saying?" You asked wringing yours hands "Darling, i was asking if I could come and look at the reports." He said smiling again "oh! Right...yes absolutely!" You said shaking the impure thoughts from your head as you stepped around him and headed back towards your desk. You sat down, digging through the stack of files until you saw "Laufeyson" pulling it out "ah, here it is." You said freezing feeling a hand on your back "you forgot your coffee my dear." He purred setting your cup on the desk "oh, thank you Loki." You said feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Now, let's see shall we?" He asked, taking the file from you He sat it down on the desk in front of you, his one hand sliding to the back of your chair as he leaned his large lithe frame over you, feeling the heat from his chest against your arm. "Hmm..." he hummed flipping through the file page by page, his scent ingulphing you as your mind raced at his proximity to you, the way his forearms flexed with each page turn, your eyes tracing the veins running down to his... "I do not see any issue, do you darling?" He asked when you tilted your head up towards him, your nose almost touching his as he leaned closer "i...um...." your mind going blank as your eyes met his, you couldn't help stare into them. They always reminded you of a forest after a storm, the deep green and blue swirling in a maelstrom as powerful as the man they belonged to but at this closeness you could see specs of gold shining in them.

"Loki..." you whispered, your eyes shooting down to his lips they look so soft you thought when you felt him lean closer "y/n." He breathed when you looked back into his eyes "i..." you trailed off, feeling like your heart was going to beat out of your chest "tell me darling." He whispered as he hovered over you his eyes never leaving yours "i..." you tried again, your mouth going dry feeling his finger tuck your hair behind your ear "hmm?" He hummed expectantly the tip of his nose touching yours "agent y/l/n." You heard from across the room making Loki shoot straight up as you jumped "a..agent hill, morning...er afternoon." You stuttered watching Maria walk in "and what do we owe the pleasure Loki?" She asked nearing your desk "oh, I was only ensuring my report was accurate, I would hate to make miss y/n's job harder then it is." He explained, freezing feeling his finger slowly trail up your arm. "Well im sure the agent has it under control Mr. Laufeyson." Hill said coming to stand on your other side "yes, she does. So I will take my leave...perhaps I will see you later agent." He purred as you looked up at him seeing him smile "o...ok, bye Loki." You smiled back as he bowed slightly before walking to the door.

You sat staring at the file Loki had been going through when you felt Hill nudge you "oh my God, what was that about?" She asked sitting on the edge of your desk, her stern demeanor vanishing "i...I don't know." You said looking up at her "well he looked like he was about to eat you." She laughed making you laugh with her "no, he just wanted to go through his report." You said setting it back on the pile "riiight, even though he's never had an issue with them before." She said crossing her arms. "I...well maybe he...umm." you stuttered trying to think of a reason "dude, just accept the man wanted to eat you like a cream filled donut." She said making you laugh "what!? No he doesn't!" You urged hearing her laugh "well apparently you didn't see the look on his face." She said hopping off the desk. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe he likes you too." She shrugged walking to the door "no he doesn't, he's just being nice." You said grabbing your cup "uh huh...whatever you say." She winked as she walked out.

You sat back sipping your coffee trying to process what had happened when you heard your name called, looking up seeing Tony "Hey kid, I just wanted to check and see how those are coming along." He said pointing at the reports "fury is down my throat about them." He laughed as you looked up at him "oh yeah, they're almost done." You said setting your cup down "oh, and Loki came by like you asked." You said grabbing his file "i didn't ask him to come by." Tony said crossing his arms "yes you did." You said looking back at him "no....I didn't." He argued making you sigh "you sent him down saying there was an issue with his reports." You argued back tossing the file down "I hate to break it to you, but I didn't send him down here, I haven't even talked to him in days." He said making your eyebrows furrow "just have them done by tonight ok?" Tony asked as you nodded looking back down at your desk. "If Tony didn't tell him to come down here.." your thoughts trailed off as you looked up at the clock seeing it was already almost three "shit.." you sighed pushing your thoughts aside grabbing the next file getting back to work.

It had been a couple weeks since your last interaction with Loki, but you couldn't get it out of your mind, it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were sat at your desk tapping your pen on a stack of files remembering the way his eyes stared into yours, how close he was to you, frowning remembering the lie he told you "Hey y/n, I need you to have Thor fix this." Maria said setting a piece of paper on your desk, seeing it was one of his mission reports "oh? What's wrong with it?" You asked picking it up "look at the description." She laughed as you looked down at that section seeing a simple "we won" written "I've told him that's not adequate but..." She sighed shaking her head. "Could you please have him actually write what happened?" She asked as you nodded "yeah, I just gotta find him." You said standing up "I believe he's in the training room, good luck." She smiled walking out. "Of course he is." You sighed walking towards the elevators.

You took a deep breath grabbing the handle of the door you pulled it open seeing Thor sparring with Steve as you walked in "Thor!" You yelled getting his attention seeing him smile at you as he walked over "Lady y/n, what can I do for you?" He asked setting his hammer down "you didn't fill out your report from the last mission." You said holding the paper out to him "you have to write a full description." You said holding your pen out to him "I do not see why, we won that's all that is important." He said grabbing the pen "just write something to make Hill happy." You laughed crossing your arms "very well, give me one moment." He said walking to the benches sitting down.

You looked out into the training room seeing Natasha on the treadmill, Steve had gone over to the punching bags, and then your eyes landed on Loki, dressed in black gym shorts that gave you full view of his muscular thighs, accompanied by a black tank top that was so tight you were surprised he could move, biting you lip watching as he sparred with Bucky. Your eyes traveled up seeing his long hair pulled back into a low bun, sweat making a few loose strands stick to his forehead as he pivoted and swayed, avoiding all of Bucky's attacks with the grace of a dancer. "Fuck...." you breathed, crossing your foot over the other clenching your thighs together trying to hide your arousal as bucky lunged at Loki when his large hand grabbed his throat, planting his foot behind bucky he threw him to the mat on his back kneeling next to him with his hand still on his throat god he could choke me anytime you thought biting your lip when Loki's eyes suddenly met yours making you jump.

His eyes didn't leave yours as he stood up, extending his hand to bucky pulling him up you watched his bicep flex, the veins in his arms bulging as Bucky got to his feet goood...I want trace them with my tongue you thought feeling your face heat up, arousal pooling in your stomach as your eyes met his again seeing a darkness in them you never had before "Lady y/n." Thor suddenly said next to you making you jump "apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." He said as you clutched your chest "no, it's ok." You said taking a deep breath "I have finished your report." He smiled holding out the paper "oh, thank you thor." You said quickly grabbing the paper "are you ok? You look a little flushed." He said as you ripped your pen out of his hand "yes! I'm fine." You said glancing over seeing Loki still watching you "i...I gotta go, see you later." You said quickly turning and walking towards the door, one last look back seeing Loki's eyes still on you making you shiver as you walked out.

You made your way back downstairs gripping the pen and paper in your hand, walking into Maria's office you slapped it on her desk "there." You said turning around "you ok? You seem...off." She said making you turn back to her "yeah! Totally fine!" You rushed out "I'm gonna call it a day, I'll see you tomorrow." You smiled before walking to your desk shutting everything off heading back upstairs to your apartment. Walking in you closed the door behind you leaning your back against it "Dammit Loki." You sighed closing your eyes, the friction of your clothing against your core making you moan "bath...a bath sounds good." You said rushing into the bathroom you turned the water on adding the bubbles as you pulled your clothes off before easing into the hot water.

You leaned back, closing your eyes you pictured the broody God, his eyes....his smile...."loki.." you whispered sliding your hand down your stomach, you gripped the side of the tub as your fingers slowly slid over your folds, biting your lip as you slowly moved your fingers down to your entrance dipping them inside you rocked your hand back and forth, imagining they were Loki's. "God...Loki..." you moaned moving your fingers faster, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach "mmm....haaaarder...." you breathed picturing Loki's eyes staring into yours, his hand wrapped around your throat "fuuuck..Loki." you cried out feeling orgasm wash over you, squeezing your thighs together you slowly slid your fingers out.

You took a deep breath still feeling unsatisfied "ugh, that usually works." You sighed sitting up rubbing your temples. You groaned, grabbing your body wash you cleaned yourself up before getting out of the tub, the ache still very present in your core. Looking up seeing it was almost ten "Maybe I'll make some tea." You said to yourself slipping on your sleep shorts and a bright green tank top pulling your hair back before opening your door and making your way down to the kitchen. You slowly walked in releasing a breath seeing it empty and dark "good, everyone must be busy." You said walking in grabbing the kettle filling it before setting it on the stove.

You opened the cabinet seeing all the coffee mugs on the top shelf "freaking giants" you mumbled lifting you knee onto the counter pulling yourself up freezing hearing someone clear their throat. You slowly leaned back, peeking out from behind the cabinet door seeing Loki standing next to the counter by the door, wearing the white shirt that would cause your death, his hand in his pocket as he tilted his head "h...hey Loki." You said smiling nervously "evening y/n, may I ask what it is your doing up there?" He asked when the kettle screamed. You cleared your throat watching him move it and turn the burner off. "Well, you see....I couldn't sleep so...tea." you laughed as he looked back over to you "and all the mugs are up there." You said pointing to the top of the cabinet "ah, I see." You heard him say as you reached up grabbing a cup.

You went to put your foot down on the floor when your other knee slipped causing you to drop the cup as you fell back off the counter when an arm wrapped around your middle pulling you backwards, you back hitting solid muscle looking to the side seeing Loki smiling down at you. "Your cup my lady." He said lifting his other hand you looked at it seeing your cup dangling from his finger "t..thank you." You stuttered lifting the cup from his finger. "You really must be more careful my dear." He purred when you felt his thumb sliding up and down by your rib, slowly moving up towards your breast "i...I should finish the tea." You said pulling away from him walking to the stove. Stop it y/n, he's just being nice you thought shaking your head when the cabinet door slammed making you jump, turning to see Loki's hand on it.

"Loki...are you ok?" You asked as he turned around "no y/n, I'm afraid I'm not." He said taking a step towards you. "I...I can get bruce...or thor?" You asked stepping back as he came closer "I'm afraid neither of them can assist me." He growled continuing his advance as you walked backwards through the kitchen, loki right on top of you "um..well I could.." you trailed as your back hit the table "these games have exhausted me y/n." He said coming to stand in front of you his chest inches from yours "I don't know..." you started when he leaned forward planting his palms on either side of you caging you in "do not lie to me y/n," He said sternly making you shiver "l..loki i..." you sighed looking down fidgeting with your hands when he leaned forward freezing feeling his breath on your ear.

"I love your eyes as well." He whispered making your head jerk back looking at him "i...you..." you stuttered as the realization hit you "yes dear, there are times i can read your thoughts." He said as your eyes widened "h...how much is sometimes?" You panicked seeing him smile "well, it comes and goes, but depending on how...hard your thinking they make it through." He purred as you looked down, embarrassment flooding through you "y/n look at me...please." He whispered as you took a deep breath "Loki i..." you were cut off by his lips gently touching yours before he quickly pulled back checking gauging your reaction as you stood speechless. You must have taken too long to respond as panic flashed in his eyes as he slowly stood up "i...I have over stepped, I apologize." He said taking a step back, the loss of contact kicking your brain into gear.

"Wait." You rushed out fisting the front of his shirt you pulled him back to you, rising up on your toes your lips crashed into his, your other hand sliding across his side to his back pulling him closer moaning feeling his tongue slide along your bottom lip, his hand cupping the back of your head as you parted your lips hearing him groan as his tongue slipped inside tangling with yours. God his lips are soft you thought when you felt his hands slide across your sides to your back moving down his palms cupping your ass squeezing making you moan into his mouth as he lifted you up setting you on the table. Stepping between your parted legs he pulled back slightly as he kissed along your jaw, tilting your head back feeling his lips wrap around your earlobe "l..loki..." you moaned when his hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you towards him groaning feeling his erection press against your thigh.

God, fuck me..please fuck me you thought screwing your eyes shut feeling his teeth nip at your pulse point "say it." He growled, the husky tone of his voice making you shiver "w..what." you breathed when he pulled back looking into you eyes, his hand gently gripping your chin "I want to hear you say it." He growled his jaw clenching as he watched you with an intensity that sent electricity up your spine "i..I want..." you stuttered seeing his eyes darken "yes..." he encouraged rubbing his thumb across your lips "i...want you Loki." You whispered seeing him smile as he leaned down to your ear "do you want me to fuck you y/n?" He breathed as you gripped the table screwing your eyes shut "y..yes...please." You said, opening your eyes meeting his "norns..." he whispered as he lunged forward his lips crashing onto to yours, his hand going to the back of your head as he guided you down onto your back.

Arching your back feeling the cold wood through your thin tank top "I need to feel you...now." loki growled against your lips as his other hand slid up your side to the bottom of your shirt "as much as I love seeing you in my colors..." he trailed off standing up his hand slipped out from under your head joining the other, hearing a loud rip you gasped feeling the cold air hit your bare skin, looking down seeing your shirt ripped in half "gorgeous." Loki purred placing a large hand on your stomach, his finger tips ghosting over your skin as he slowly slid it up to the valley of your breasts gently pushing you back down. "One more thing." He smiled when you heard another rip, feeling your shorts and panties pulled from you. "Norns....you truly are magnificent." He purred as he wrapped his hands around your thighs sliding you to the edge.

"Loki...." you moaned feeling his clothed cock press against your core "I know my dear, be patient for me." He groaned lifting his hand a green light swept down across him, shivering feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance "are you ready love?" He asked making you look up, his smile melting your insides as his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs "y..yes....please loki." You whined laying back stretching your arms above your head "mmm....we'll have to look into that." He growled as he leaned over, his large body hovering over yours as he pushed his hips forward, stretching you slowly as he entered you. "Gods your...mmm tight." He groaned, bucking his hips forward making you gasp as he bottomed out.

"Holy fuck." You cried out digging your nails into the table as he leaned further over you, his eyes meeting yours "are you ok dear? Do you wish to stop?" He asked, concern lacing his tone as you stared up at him "God no!" You rushed out wrapping your legs around his middle, a deep rumble coming from his chest as he laughed "loki?" You asked wrapping your fingers around the end of the table "move...now" you demanded shifting your hips "as you wish." He growled as he planted one large hand next to your head, the other gripping your hip as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip in before slowly pushing back in.

"H...holy...." you moaned as he set a steady pace, burying his cock further inside you then anyone ever had God, he's ruined me you thought when he suddenly snapped his hips hard against yours jolting you up the table "that was the idea my dear." He growled "my cock will be the only one that can satisfy you." He said gritting his teeth as he slammed into you "Loki!!" You cried out gripping the edge of the table "the only pleasure you will find is impaled upon me as I bury myself in your perfect cunt." He said, his fingers digging into your flesh as he set a brutal pace, the table shifting under his thrusts as he consumed you. "F...fuck! Loki...ahhh....i.....im...." you cried out as his tip hit that soft spot deep inside you "are you going to come my dear?" He groaned, sliding his hand under your shoulder pulling you to him as his pelvis hit yours "y...yes....God Loki!" You yelled feeling the familiar tingle in your abdomen.

"Come y/n...come on my cock." Loki gritted as he thrust hard into you as your orgasm slammed into you screaming his name as he continued his unforgiving pace "w..whose cunt is this?" He growled digging his fingers nails into your shoulder "y..yours..." you moaned feeling another building "who....n...norns...who do you belong to?" He moaned screwing his eyes shut as you squeezed your legs around him "y...you Loki...only you!" You cried out as he bottomed out, holding himself there you felt him release deep inside you triggering a second orgasm as he slumped on top of you laying his forehead on your shoulder, his warm breath fanning your skin as you let go of the table, a hand going to the back of his head running your fingers through his hair, freezing feeling him stiffen.

Why did i do that...I shouldn't have done that you thought as you pulled your hand away "y/n?" You heard Loki ask but your thoughts drowned him out i....I should go...this was probably a one time thing... "y/n look at me." Loki's voice rang out again as you tried to slip out from under him what am I going to cover up with....I need to get back to my.... "y/n!" Loki yelled making jump, your eyes shooting to his "apologies, I did not mean to yell but you were lost." He said as he grabbed your hand helping you sit up "now, let me make one thing perfectly clear." He said raising his hand again, the same green light traveling across your skin as your clothes reappeared "you...are mine now." He said leaning forward "you are not a one night stand, you never were...you deserve much more then that." He said as you looked down fidgeting with your fingers "you deserved to be treated as a queen, a goddess...my goddess." He said brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face

"so y/n, will you alow me to take you out?" He asked as you looked up at him "m...me? You want to date me?" You asked laughing but seeing Loki looking more serious then you ever had "I um...I'd like that Loki, very much." You said seeing him smile "how about we go to my chambers and you put on one of your midgaridian films and we can talk more hm?" He asked making you smile "that sounds nice." You said sliding off the table as he held his hand out, placing your hand in his He linked your fingers together as he guided you down the hallway to his room "loki, does that mean your my...boyfriend?" You asked as he smiled down at you opening his door "you may call me whatever you wish, as long as you are mine." He said as he waved you ahead of him "I'll always be yours....my king." You said walking through the doorway "mmm....now that will get you more then you bargained for." He growled following you "oh, I'm counting on it." You smiled closing the door behind him.

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[rubycruzin4abruzin]

love, lies, and first times

Summary: You were made to believe that your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan, lost her virginity to Stella-Rebecca some years ago. But when the truth is revealed during a game of truth or dare, your trust in her is shattered. What reason did she have to lie, and who did she actually lose her virginity to?

Pairing: loser!virgin!hazel x experienced!reader

Contains: mature language and content, lies, smut, fingering, oral, first time, kissing, drinking, tit play, both receiving, both giving, loser!hazel, sub!hazel, biblically!accurate!hazel, reader isn’t described as fem or masc

Word Count: 6k

A/N: soo one of my pet peeves when reading a hazel fic is when hazel keeps her rings on when fingering the reader and the reader likes it? Listen, I lost my virginity to someone who accidentally kept their rings on and it was painful. I had to ask them to take them off, highly unpleasant. I kinda make fun of that here, I hope some of y’all are ready to get called tf out ;)

“Hazel, truth or dare?”

You squeezed your girlfriend’s hand as PJ sent her a wicked grin. The senior class of the Rockbridge Fight Club had just graduated high school, and the club leaders, PJ and Josie, had decided to celebrate by throwing a party—one last ‘hurrah’ for the founding members. Now, you all sat in a circle in Josie’s dim basement, sipping poorly mixed jungle juice from red solo cups while David Fincher movies played on a vintage television in the background. Truth or dare was, of course, PJ’s idea—perhaps in the hopes that someone would dare her to kiss Brittany.

Hazel returned your squeeze, the cool metal of her rings pressing against your warm skin. “Truth,” she answered.

PJ’s lips curled into such a shit-eating grin, you began to wonder if maybe she really did eat ‘literal shit.’ “Who did you lose your virginity to?”

You smiled, already knowing the answer. Early into dating, you and Hazel had exchanged ‘first-time’ stories: yours had been with some girl at summer camp when you were sixteen, and Hazel had confessed to experimenting with Stella-Rebecca freshman year. She stressed that it was nothing romantic, simply two friends getting their first times out of the way, and then swore you to secrecy for the sake of Stella-Rebecca’s privacy. However, Stella-Rebecca was sitting right there, and you doubted she would appreciate Hazel exposing their previous affair to the entire group.

Sure enough, Hazel’s eyes widened as a blush crept upon her cheeks. “Uhhh…”

Her hand seemed to stiffen within yours, tightening its hold as her rings indented your skin. You glanced across the circle at Stella-Rebecca, who stared at Hazel with an expectant (and somewhat oblivious) smile.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you murmured to Hazel in an attempt to calm her, but her grip only further constricted.

PJ rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hazel, I gave you an easy one. Everyone knows you probably lost it to her,” she gestured towards you.

It was your turn to blush. “Actually, uh…” you looked towards your girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak. “We haven’t really, uh…”

PJ gasped as her eyes almost popped out of her head. “No way! You two haven’t jacked each other off yet?”

It was true, you and Hazel had yet to take your relationship to that level. Not like you didn’t try, you had been dating for months, but Hazel seemed to shy away every time you so much as slipped a hand up her shirt. You knew you shouldn’t pressure her, but you were beginning to feel a bit unattractive—after all, Hazel had lost her virginity to a model. How could you possibly compare to that?

Josie, ever the peacemaker, decided to chime in. “Ok PJ, let’s back off a little bit…”

Hazel seemed to relax a bit at Josie’s words. She eased her grip, and you heard her exhale a breath you didn’t know she was holding.

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious myself.” Stella-Rebecca interjected, taking you by surprise. “Hazel never talks about her sex life.”

Your face contorted in confusion. Hazel tensed up again, but your attention was focused on the girl sitting across from you. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, sometimes we’ll be hanging out and the topic of sex will come up, and I’ll share some hookup story and she’ll just kind of… change the subject or something.”

There it was again, that familiar burn of envy like acid in your veins. “Maybe she’s jealous,” you suggested, words unintentionally dripping with venom.

Stella-Rebecca furrowed her brow, her expression innocent. “I doubt Hazel would be jealous of my sex life… unfortunately, it has more men than I think either of us would prefer.”

”Well, you were her first.”

“What?!” Stella-Rebecca exclaimed, her jaw dropping in shock. PJ cackled maniacally, clearly having the time of her life.

Hazel’s hand was clamped so tightly around yours that her knuckles were white, but you barely noticed as you stayed fixated on Stella-Rebecca. “I mean… yeah… weren’t you?”

Stella-Rebecca furiously shook her head. “Hazel and I have known each other our whole lives, but never like that. Besides, I didn’t come out as a lesbian until after you two started dating. Why did you think it was me?”

You felt like a complete moron. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glaring at your girlfriend. She refused to meet your gaze, staring down at her lap while shades of crimson painted her features. Her hand was still clasped around yours, but you forcibly removed it, too hurt to want to be touched.

“Ok, so, Hazel’s a prude. Glad we got that out of the way.” PJ sneered.

Josie reached over and smacked her arm. “So are you, PJ. Hypocrite.”

“I am not a prude, I’m a virgin.” PJ corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The game continued once the tension died down. No one dared PJ to kiss Brittany, so when it was her turn again, she took it upon herself to dare Brittany to kiss her, which the poor girl blatantly refused. After that, PJ pretty much lost interest and the game dissipated, with everyone breaking the circle to go off and do their own things. Josie and Isabel were tucked away in a corner, failing to be discreet during a heated makeout session. PJ had joined Brittany on the couch, while Brittany sipped her drink and scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Pj’s passes. The rest of the girls, including Hazel, huddled in front of the small television, chatting through the David Fincher movies. You, however, stayed back in an attempt to avoid your girlfriend.

“How could she lie to me like that?” You asked Brittany, plopping down on the couch between her and PJ. Rolling her eyes, PJ got up and left the basement, retreating upstairs for whatever reason.

Brittany seemed grateful for your company (and relieved at PJ’s disappearance). “I don’t know, babe,” she said, slinging her arm around you and pulling you close. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

You groaned pathetically, resting your head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of any.”

Brittany leaned down and kissed the top of your head, sympathetic to your feelings. You glanced over to the television area and saw Hazel staring back at you, watching your interaction with Brittany. She looked sad, not jealous, just sad. Those big blue eyes that would look at you with so much love were now pained, filled with remorse. She sort of resembled a kicked puppy, and every instinct in your body told you to run over and hold her, comfort her, before you remembered why you were angry in the first place.

Before you could force yourself to break your shared gaze, PJ suddenly came bumbling down the stairs again, holding an empty beer bottle. “Look what I found in the kitchen trash!” She exclaimed, commanding the room’s attention.

Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Why were you in my trash?”

“Doesn’t matter! Now we can play ‘seven minutes in heaven!’” PJ declared, moving to the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to get the circle back together.

Brittany groaned, all too aware that this was just another one of PJ’s stunts to try and get with her. It was your turn to be sympathetic.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered to her. “If the bottle starts to land on you during PJ’s turn, I’ll intercept it.”

Brittany mouthed a ‘thank you’ before taking your hand and walking with you to join the circle. This time, you sat directly across from Hazel, as far away from her as possible. You could feel her sad puppy-dog eyes boring into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.

“Alright,” PJ asserted, rubbing her hands together. “If there’s no volunteers to go first…”

“I think our host should spin first.” Isabel interrupted, looking towards Josie with what could only be described as ‘fuck-me’ eyes.

Josie giggled as she took the bottle from a reluctant PJ and spun it in the center. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle slowed, almost stopping in front of Annie before Isabel grabbed it and pointed it towards herself.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Isabel exclaimed, much to Josie’s amusement.

The two held hands and disappeared into the small coat closet under the basement stairs. PJ rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun if you pick your partners!” She yelled after them.

One thing about 'seven minutes in heaven’ that no one talks about is what the rest of the group does during the seven minutes. Do you talk? Keep playing? Listen in? You certainly didn’t know, and apparently neither did anyone else—with the exception of PJ, who set her phone timer before sitting with her ear pressed to the door.

“So… what’s everyone’s summer plans?” Stella-Rebecca asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

Annie shrugged in response. “Mostly working as a counselor for Vacation Bible School and protesting outside Planned Parenthood. Same old, same old.”

“Would you guys shut up over there?” PJ hissed from across the room. “I’m trying to listen to them fuck!”

Eventually, seven agonizing minutes finished with the screech of PJ’s timer. “Times up, lovebirds!” She shouted, throwing open the door.

The ‘lovebirds’ stumbled out of the closet in a fit of giggles. Both of their clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, and Isabel’s lipstick was smeared all over Josie’s mouth. The couple was immediately met with cheers and jeers from the rest of the party as they made their way back to the circle.

“Wow, thanks for warming up the closet for us you two,” PJ snickered. “Now, as for who’s next…”

“Hazel, why don’t you spin?” Isabel suggested, seizing the bottle before PJ could and passing it to Hazel.

“Oh, come on!” PJ complained, having been cockblocked yet again.

The group all shared a chuckle at PJ’s dismay, especially Brittany who was laughing so hard tears began to form. PJ could do nothing but pout until the laughter died down and Hazel reached into the center, spinning the bottle.

Round and round the bottle spun, the group watching with bated breath. The hollow glass rotated, nozzle slowing, slowing until it finally stopped on no other than… you. All previously dissipated tension immediately resurfaced as the room seemed to still, everyone recalling the incident from earlier.

“Yeah, you guys! Go in there and give us absolutely nothing!” PJ sneered, earning another smack on the arm from Josie.

You stared at the bottle, nozzle pointing directly at you, no question about it. Through your peripheral vision, you could see Hazel nervously fidgeting with her rings, unsure of how to proceed.

“Maybe we could… play something else?” Brittany suggested gently.

PJ clapped her hands together. “Nope! Rules are rules. Get in there, you two.” She seized your hands and dragged you to the closet, throwing both of you in before slamming the door.

Hazel kept her gaze fixated on her fidgeting hands while you pretended to be very interested in a small tear on one of the hanging coats. After what felt like an eternity, you checked your watch. Only twelve seconds had passed. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, one of us has to say something.”

She glanced towards the door. “How much do you wanna bet PJ is listening in on us?”

You shot her a glare, not finding her joke funny.

“I’m sorry…” Hazel muttered, lowering her head again.

At that moment, all of the hurt, anger, and confusion you had kept bottled up to save face rose to the surface. “Why would you lie to me?” You demanded, using her own line against her.

Her face crumpled upon hearing the true betrayal behind your question. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Hazel, you lied about losing your virginity to Stella-Rebecca. That’s such an odd thing to lie about, it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Ok,” Hazel cut you off. “I didn’t have sex with Stella-Rebecca...”

“No shit,” you spat. “So what, you like, want to?”

“No!” Hazel insisted. “Stella and I are friends. I’ve never thought about her that way.”

“Then why have you had me believing you slept with her?” You hissed, a weak attempt to keep your voice down.

She was at it again, fiddling with those goddamned rings. “I don’t know, I just…” she swallowed, hesitating. “You told me about your first time… at summer camp… and you asked me about mine. We had just started dating. I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced.”

“Hazel,” you sighed. “You are inexperienced.”

“I mean, like, I didn’t want you to see me as an immature little baby who didn’t know what she was doing, so I panicked and made something up. I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

The edges of your anger blurred as you realized fear had driven your girlfriend to a desperate lie. Poor Hazel, she looked shrunken, almost. She had drawn into herself, vulnerability exposed like a house of cards in the wind. You reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at you and taking her by surprise.

“Hazel,” you cooed. “It’s ok that you’ve never had sex before, I don’t care.”

“Really?” She asked.

You nodded. “Of course I don’t care. I just thought you’d been pushing me away because you didn’t find me that attractive, but…”

“What?!” Hazel’s exclamation took you aback, making you drop your hand. “That’s not it at all! Shit, I was just worried I’d mess up somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life! I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No, really! Every time I look at you, I’m like ‘holy fuck, how did I get so lucky…’”

You cut her off by crashing your lips against hers. Her body initially tensed at the sudden contact, but soon melted into yours as it had done so many times before. Your hands found the nape of her neck as you drew her closer, pressing her up against you as much as possible. Lip-locks with Hazel were familiar to you, but never had one been so passionate, so rough and yet reassuring at the same time.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping to catch your breath, realizing you had inadvertently chosen each other over oxygen. You gazed upon Hazel, studying her flushed cheeks, her lustrous lips, and the way her shirt collar sat askew atop her shoulders. With the way she stared back, you could tell you appeared just as rumpled.

“Well that’s good to know,” you giggled, reaching out to fix her collar. “Listen, Hazel, you’re a virgin. So what? I don’t care who you have or haven’t been with before. If you’re not ready yet, that’s perfectly fine, really. I would never pressure you into anything.”

Back at it again with those fucking rings. What the hell could you have possibly said this time?

“That’s the thing…” she began, her gaze fixated to the floor again. “I think I… I think…”

“Hazel…” you whispered her name, placing two fingers on her arm and making her shiver.

“I… I think I am ready. I’ve been ready. For a little while now.”

Your eyes widened at her confession. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I want you… uh, I mean… I want to do it… with you. I just… I don’t… I don’t know how to…” each sputter was paired with imperceptible hand gestures, desperate to communicate something she didn’t have the words to say.

“To… initiate it?” You asked.

“Yes! That!” She sighed, thankful you knew her well enough to understand her babbles. “I mean, should it be planned? Spontaneous? Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey I wanna have sex?’ Where do I do it? How? Can I just blurt it out of nowhere or does something have to be happening first? If so, then what?”

“Hazel…” she was rambling again. You placed your hands on both sides of her head, smoothing her hair. “There’s no right way to initiate it, trust me. You can just do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

She met your gaze again, head still caught between your palms. There was something different behind her eyes, though, something besides remorse or even vulnerability. Her brilliant blue’s seemed darker somehow, almost… hungry. You finally caught on when she snuck a glance at your lips, and closed the distance between you.

This kiss was different from the last: still passionate, but gentler, lighter, as if you were exploring for the first time. Her hands found your waist, loosely gripping the fabric of your top. You reciprocated, running your thumb over the hem of her tank top and accidentally brushing over a patch of bare skin. She flinched at the unfamiliarity, and you pulled away.

“Are you ok?” You whispered, forehead pressed against hers. She nodded, half-lidded eyes not leaving your lips. “Can I…?” Your fingers hesitated just under her tank top, barely grazing the skin of her stomach. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. For the first time in her life, she let her body do the talking as she pressed into you, capturing you in another kiss.

Slowly, surely, your fingers inched up the underside of her tank top. You took the time to trace little shapes into her skin, moving from her waist, to her stomach, to the underside of her rib cage. Her breath hitched with each new touch; Hazel had always been ticklish, but the way your fingertips danced along her torso made her shiver rather than squirm. As her comfortability levels grew, your hand traveled up, further, further…

“Holy shit, they were really gonna fuck!”

PJ’s grating voice startled you apart like an unwelcome infomercial in the dead of night. You glared at your intruder standing in the wide-open doorway, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. “Lose track of time?”

Hazel tugged at your wrists, and it wasn’t until that moment when you realized your hands were still under her tank top (much to PJ’s entertainment). With a mumbled apology, you detached yourself and helped her smooth out the fabric bunched around her ribs. Both of your faces were burning with a mixture of embarrassment and fluster.

“You could’ve knocked, you know…” Hazel muttered, watching the floor as she left the closet.

“I could’ve,” PJ admitted. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the party watched with amusement as you and Hazel exited the closet. Your flushed features and darting glances did not go unnoticed, prompting a series of snorts and stifled laughter. Forget David Fincher, you two were your own movie.

“So, I assume it’s safe to say you’ve made up?” Josie asked cheekily, squeezing Isabel’s hand, who bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.

“We sure did,” you said with a sheepish grin.

Brittany couldn’t help but snicker. “Guess that explains your rosy cheeks.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel as an idea suddenly popped into your head. “Actually, Hazel’s cheeks are warm because she doesn’t feel too good.”

“I don’t?” Hazel asked.

“You don’t,” you repeated, shooting her a look. “In fact, oh my, I do feel warm! We must be coming down with something.”

“Wait, but I don’t feel…” Hazel seemed confused until she met your gaze and understood your plan. She raised her hand to her forehead, making a big show of collapsing into the basement wall. “Oh, woe is me! It is true! I seem to have fallen ill! Cough, cough, wheeze!”

You had to fight the corners of your mouth to keep from curling. Jesus, this girl couldn’t act for shit.

“Yes… anyway we need to leave. Right now. We don’t want to get any of you sick.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Josie sent you a knowing smirk.

You grabbed Hazel’s hand and ran with her up the stairs and out of the basement, the partygoers calling after you with whoops, hollers, and exaggerated kissing sounds. As the basement door creaked shut behind you, the last thing you heard was PJ’s whiny complaint. “No fair! Hazel gets pussy before I do?”

The two of you rushed hand-in-hand from Josie’s front door and piled into Hazel’s car, you in the passenger seat as usual.

She turned to you, keeping her free hand on the wheel. “Are your parents home?”

“They never are.”

Hazel had to release your hand to put her car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway like a madwoman. You anticipated her fingers intertwining with yours again, but instead, she reached over and rested her hand on your upper thigh. Her thumb gently brushed across the denim of your jeans, sending flutters through your stomach. Hazel was getting bold.

The drive back to your house was nothing but perilous. Hazel had always been a reckless driver, but the sharp turns and disregarded stop signs were wild even for her. Arriving at your house, she parked haphazardly, jumping out before rushing to throw open your door.

“Well that was fast,” you teased as Hazel helped you out of the car. “Looking forward to something?”

Words seemed to fail her as she silently took your face in her hands, kissing you with the desperation of a castaway grasping for a lifeline. She had you pressed into the passenger door, hips flush against yours. Your palms rested on her collarbone, feeling her rapid heartbeat.

You gently pushed her away, almost swearing you heard the faintest whimper leave her lips. “Why don’t we take this inside?” You suggested, to which Hazel could only nod.

The two of you stumbled into your house, barely taking the time to break away from each other to see where you were going. When you eventually made it to your bedroom, you slammed the door behind you and Hazel thrust you against the white wood. You relaxed into her, expecting more kisses, but looked up to find her features filled with apprehension.

“Hazel…” you whispered, moving your hands to her shoulders. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, her gaze dropping slightly. She had seized you by the hips, fingers hooked in your belt loops, hands beginning to tremble.

You gently lifted her jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s ok if you changed your mind…”

“No! No, please. I need you so bad you have no idea…” she cut you off, her confession making you blush. “I just… I don’t… I mean… I’ve watched some porn and read fanfiction but…”

“Hazel, sex isn’t anything like porn or fanfiction.”

“Oh fuck, it isn’t?” She asked in disbelief, her wide eyes making you chuckle.

“Why don’t you let me lead, then?” You suggested, calming her with a tender kiss on her jawline. “Go lay down for me, yeah?”

Hazel did as she was told and moved to lie down on your pale-blue bedspread, a favorite of yours because you thought it matched her eyes. You stayed behind, stripping down to a bra and panties as Hazel watched with unblinking eyes.

“Relax, my love,” you purred, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. You shifted, hips brushing against hers momentarily, causing Hazel’s eyelids to flutter and a sigh to leave her lips. A smirk crossed your face. “Sensitive, are we?”

Hazel could barely speak through her pathetic little whines. “P-please…”

You planted a sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down to her neck, exploring her soft skin, discovering unknown sensitive spots: her earlobe, the nape of her jaw, along her collarbone. Your fingers flitted underneath the hem of her tank top, creeping up, up, until you felt the cool nylon of her sports bra against your palm. Hazel shuddered at the newfound sensation, and you pulled back.

“Still good?”

“Good,” she breathed. “Yes, good.”

You hooked your finger under the neck of her tank top, coaxing her to sit up slightly. Pinching her shirt collar, you slid it off her shoulders before lifting the bottom of her tank, stopping with it bunched under her armpits. She finished the job for you, and you tossed the shirts aside, not caring where they landed.

Now she was left in a sports bra the color of fog, her nipples erect and poking through the fabric. You slipped two fingers under her band, looking to her for approval. She nodded, letting you peel it off until her tits sprang free.

“Holy shit, Haze,” you muttered, practically drooling at the sight of her naked breasts. Underneath the compressive sports bras, hidden beneath layers of baggy clothing, Hazel had perfect tits: round, firm, with little pink buds sitting like cherries on top of two scoops of vanilla ice cream. “How could you keep these from me?”

Hazel let out a laugh that sounded more like a breath, not entirely sure how to respond. Leaning down, you took one of the swollen buds in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while palming her other breast. Hazel threw her head back against the pillow, letting out cries of pleasure while her hands entangled themselves in your hair. You took your time, caressing, suckling, exploring every inch of her bare chest, memorizing each unique detail: a freckle on her décolletage, a vaguely mushroom-shaped birthmark hidden beneath her left breast.

She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You had been so distracted, so deeply buried in her cleavage, that you hadn’t noticed time slipping away until you felt her pressing down on your head. Your name flew from her mouth in a desperate gasp. “I can’t… p-please… keep going…”

“So impatient,” you teased, mouth releasing her nipple with a pop. Hazel only whined in response, bucking against your stomach, hips urgently searching for some kind of release. You smirked, leaving her breasts and peppering kisses down her stomach, stopping when you reached the waistband of her gym shorts.

“Off?” You asked, though it was merely a formality at this point; you already knew the answer. She made a noise of approval, a mix between a groan and a squeak, and shifted her hips to allow you to slip them off her legs.

Now, there stood nothing between you two but the thin cotton of her slate-colored boxers. She was writhing, silently begging you to rip them off and have at her, but you couldn’t help but stop and admire the growing spot of wetness that had accumulated through the fabric. Her hips sputtered, shook, pairing with her pitiful whimpers to plead for attention. You, however, had other plans.

“What’s your rush, Haze? We’ve got all night, don’t we?” You were teasing her now, a wicked grin appearing as your fingertips danced along the elastic band of her boxers.

Her raised pelvis came crashing down onto the bedspread as she cried out in defeat. “Fuck… please… just take them off…”

You frowned, mocking her, using your thumb to gently encircle her clothed cunt. Her head sank further into the pillow, broken moans falling out of her mouth like beads from a shattered necklace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Do you always get this wet?” You asked in disbelief. Her boxers felt like a saturated sponge.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, fighting to keep her speech intelligible. “I don’t think so, maybe. I… I need you… really bad…”

“Need me?” You replied cheekily, wrapping your fingers around the elastic and slipping her boxers off in one quick motion.

Your girlfriend's naked body was now fully on display before you. You had to take a moment, admiring details of the areas she had never let you see before: a small mole on her outer thigh, or the way her hip bones protruded to form little ridges across her pelvis. Her chest heaved, lips parted ever so slightly as she awaited your next move.

“Hazel?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

She took in a breath, blowing it out big. “More than anything.”

You positioned your head between her legs, leaving feather-light kisses up and down her inner thighs. Her head tossed from side-to-side, body struggling to keep still with your mouth so close to where she needed you. Testing the waters, you ghosted a kiss over her clit, watching as she shuddered upon contact.

God she was sensitive.

Finally taking mercy on her, you licked a long, broad stripe up the length of her cunt, tongue lingering on her clit perhaps a bit longer than necessary. The cries that erupted from her throat were enough to send shocks through your own body. You moved to straddle her leg, grinding against it while you ate her out—a shift not going unnoticed by Hazel, only spurring her forward.

“Ohmygod… Ohmygod fuck…” your name tumbled from her lips amidst her breathless moans. She squirmed under your touch—every lick, each roll against her shin setting her body ablaze. A smirk tugged at your lips as your mouth created a vortex around her clit, causing her eyes to roll back like a slot machine landing on the jackpot.

You didn’t get to do this for very long before her plush thighs enveloped your head. “W-what…? It feels… I think, I think I’m…”

“Breathe, baby girl,” you cooed, never taking your mouth off of her. “Just relax, cum for me. Fuck you’re doing so well…”

Her hands flew back to your scalp, legs shaking, guttural cries erupting from her throat as her orgasm consumed her. Fuck she sounded pretty. Her thighs kept you right where she needed you, only loosening once her breathing evened and she slowly came back to reality.

You lifted your head once her legs collapsed onto your bedspread, her bones feeling like jello. “Was that alright, Haze?” You asked, crawling back up to lay next to her.

“Wow,” she sighed, pupils dilated into big black buttons. “Just wow.” She laid there a moment, silently recovering, wearing a dazed, blissful expression. But then her face shifted into something sour, almost uneasy. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t know how…”

“It’s fine,” you ensured.

“It’s not,” she argued. “I mean, you were… and on my leg…”

“Hey, Hazel,” you brushed her hair back, letting your fingers fall. “We don’t have to do anything else. Tonight was about you.”

“No, no. Please, I wanna fuck you so bad, I’ve been daydreaming about it for so long.”

You couldn’t have blushed harder if you tried.

“I just… I haven’t… like you did with that girl from summer camp. What if I try and it isn’t anything like that?”

“Hazel…” you reached for her face, kissing her reassuringly. “It won’t be anything like it was with her.”

Her face fell. “It won’t?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “What I did with her, it was just sex. Nothing like this, this is completely different.”

“Why?”

You had to gather up the courage to say your next words. “Hazel… I’m in love with you.”

She finally faced you with wide eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it now.”

That blissful expression from earlier returned to her pretty face. “I love you too.”

You giggled, and she pulled you into another kiss. Her weight shifted until you were on your back, her body covering yours, legs on either side of your hips. She tried to emulate you, peppering kisses down your neck and chest until she reached the satin cusp of your bra.

“How do… uh… I only wear sports bras…”

You sat up, guiding her hands around to your back and helping her unhook your clasp. She slid it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without care, her attention fixated purely on the newly-exposed flesh in front of her. “Holy fuck,” she exclaimed on a sigh.

Another smirk crept across your face. “What? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were the first you’d ever seen!”

She shot you an unamused look before diving in, suckling at one of your breasts and pawing at the other. Her eyes stayed unblinking, watching you as your head relaxed further into the pillow and soft sounds spilled from your lips.

“Am I doing ok?” She asked in a whisper.

“More than,” your voice came out soft and sweet, causing the tips of your lover’s ears to tint pink.

Hazel trailed downward, her soft lips leaving kisses all the way down to your stomach, her tousled hair tickling your skin. She paused at your cotton panties, her thumb passing over the fabric with uncertainty.

“Need help taking those off too?” You quipped.

“Definitely not,” she replied, seizing the waistband and sliding them off your legs.

Hazel gazed upon your naked body as if she were an artist, and you her masterpiece. Her hands hesitated before resting on your ribs, fingernails gently scratching down the length of your sides. She bent down, planting kisses on your hip bones, reveling in your quiet whimpers.

“Hazel…” you purred, and she got the message. Her hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing your entrance before sliding inside.

“Ouch,” you hissed, sitting up in pain.

Startled, Hazel pulled her hand back. “W-what? What happened? Shit, did I hurt you?”

“Kinda…” you paused, trying to pinpoint the discomfort. It almost felt like she had unraveled a paperclip and impaled your core—an unpleasant sensation you couldn’t explain until you saw…

“Hazel,” you exclaimed with a laugh. “You kept your rings on!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, cradling the hand that burned you. “I thought you liked my rings.”

“I love your rings,” you assured. “Just not inside me.”

“But the characters in the fanfictions I’ve read keep their rings on, and the feedback is always positive!”

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from giggling at her protest. “Hazel, those fanfictions are written by people who probably haven’t experienced the real thing. Trust me, rings up there? Uncomfortable at best.”

Hazel nodded, mumbling a sheepish apology and removing her rings before slipping two fingers back in. “Better?”

“Much.”

With her confidence temporarily shaken, Hazel began to move against you, slowly, steadily, studying your facial expressions. Each gasp, every subtle twitch helped her gauge what you wanted, what you needed from her. She may have gone in blind, but she was a gifted learner, and you her favorite subject.

Soon after Hazel regained her certainty, you started to feel that familiar ache within your core. “Hazel… doing so good… my pretty girl… I’m so…”

She perked up, still keeping her hands where you seemed to want them. “Really? You mean it? Should I do anything different?”

You were about to shake your head, but stopped when you got an idea. “Do this with your fingers,” you demonstrated by curling your own.

She followed suit, reveling in your little mewls when she scratched against your g-spot.

But you weren’t finished yet. “Fuck… Hazel… almost… now just move your palm…”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Hazel curved her palm, stimulating your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you like a flash flood breaking through a dam. Your back arched, legs shaking, chest heaving as you rode out your climax. Hazel wouldn’t, couldn’t look away; a moment ago she had been naive, inexperienced, but now the prettiest girl she’d ever seen was creaming all over her fingers, and it was all her own doing.

Her movements halted at what she hoped was the right moment. She withdrew her fingers, curiosity overtaking her as she popped them into her mouth and moaned at the taste, instantly regretting not going down on you. Her mind swirled, flashbacks of what just happened mixing with the oblivion of what to do next.

“Hazel,” you said finally. “Come lay down.”

She crawled back up to you, laying her head on the pillow. “Did I do ok?”

You giggled. “You did perfect.”

A grin spread across her face, reaching from ear-to-ear. Her eyelids were already drooping. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” you rolled over, wrapping your arm around her waist and nuzzling into her hair. “Go to sleep, my love. You’ve had a big night.”

She snuggled up closer to you, muttering a barely-perceptible ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @k1ssm3m0re @joanvisitsrome @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @09carriages @hazelvrr @ummlover @lovinglynny @lilyannez @at1nyzen @lovepity @camilleee222 @reiisstuff @sofi4v13 @pensoterios @everybodyhatesari @sapphicarribean @sam-cooperrr @gay4lanadelrey666 @nickeverdeen

[imoncloud7]

suna rintaro headcanons

general:

has a meme folder in his phone with over 2000 pics & videos and uses them as reaction photos frequently

some are even of the twins LOL

has a google drive of all the school fight videos and charges people for them

hes actually really smart but chooses not to try in school?

suuuper close with his little sister

she calls him all the time when hes away at school (since hes not from hyogo)

they play roblox together every night

they play those princess roleplay games (fantasia) and a lot of dress to impress

hes literally a top model by now

he really like indie films esp horror movies

has never picked up a book in his life

he owns wired apple headphone for the "aesthetic"

the twins clown him for them and flex their airpods

hes an avid wearer of the uniqlo airism tee

has a silver chain he never takes off

lowkey would be a stalker and have burner ig and tiktok accounts

nonchalant king

literally hes so mysterious and girls looove that

he ran an anonymous account on instagram rating all the water fountains at school

had a lot of followers ngl

he takes his bed very seriously

like weighted blanket, silk sheets, the weighted dino stuffed animal from target, fresh water by his bed, magnesium and melatonin at night

doesn't let anyone sit in it with outside clothes on

neevvverrrr lets the twins sit in it

definitely uses "yh" when hes texting (absolutely tf not)

as a boyfriend:

he was plottin on you since the start

but bc hes nonchalant af you had no idea

hes really perceptive so he could kinda tell you reciprocated those feelings

so he took that as his sign and he confessed first

he was super casual about it

you guys were walking back to the dorms after his practice one day and he just kinda dropped it on you

"yo can i tell you something"

LMAOOOO

he was kindddd of awkward about it

but its ok!! now youre dating!!!

his love language is def physical touch

this man takes his cuddling time SERIOUSLY

youre one of the only people he frequently lets in his bed

you guys stay up till 2 am cuddling and giggling with one another about stupid shit

so many sneaky sleepovers (the dorms dont usually allow opposite genders in the same room)

yall r one of those couples that sit in the corner and talk shit about everyone in the room like whispering in each others ears and laughing

esp about the twins

you two have a very long streak of word hunt going back and forth

you guys also send a lot of voice memos ranting back and forth

his sister loves you!! she doesn't have an older sister, so you fill that role. only so much that suna can do for her

she texts you a lot too lol

you join them in playing roblox every night

so many 2 am convenience store runs

[karasuno-planet]

Hallo😆 how about some of the karasnuno boys when they have a crush headcanons?? If u don't wanna do multiple characters, that's ok!! I'd love kageyama headcanons!!

Karasuno boys having a crush HCs <3

includes: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Nishinoya, Daichi

a/n: YESSSS TY FOR THE REQUEST and here's some cutesy hcs to fluff u up !!

Kageyama Tobio:

he would avidly deny it but he is suuuuch a blusher, he just turns pink at the slightest things

acts totally cool, but everyone on the team notices his sets are faster when you're at a game

if you help him with his homework suddenly he seems locked in, until you look up at him and realize he's sneaking looks at you

even with your help his grades do not improve im sorry

totally checks you out with the full look up and down without realizing he's doing it

thinks he's really slick but the entire team knows about his crush

would try to smile at you but give you the creepy grimace by accident 😭

if you asked him to work out with you he would push himself wayyy too hard to impress you, probably gets yelled at by Ukai at the next practice

makes extreme effort to give compliments, gets coaching from his sister

GIFT GIVING- always little things like a drink from the vending machine

regardless of your skill or lack of skill at volleyball he would ask you to throw to him or hit his sets

"Why are you always looking at my hands?" swbfvouyqwrbefnh

Tsukishima Kei:

struggles to not just avoid you like the plague when he gets a crush

wants you to come to games but would never ask you, if you do show up he would play way harder

he's actually kinda good about being discreet about it, but yamaguchi definitely knows and encourages him to confess

always fiddling with a pen in his hand when he talks to you in class

"Do you think I should grow my hair a little longer?" "Why? Do you think y/n would like it??" "Shut up."

has a nervous compulsion to push up his glasses

makes playlists about you that he would only share after like yearsss of a relationship with you

low-key gives you sass and would love it if you reciprocated that. and that's def not the only thing he wants you to reciprocate.

if you were in his advanced classes he would kind of initiate an academic rivals thing, but if you weren't he would offer you help with your classes.

chat should I write a tsukki academic rival fic?? edit- the fic has been made <3 find it here!

Nishinoya Yu!

he's a bold mfer but a little shy when you give him any attention in return

would ask your favorite color just to show up at school the next day with this blond streak dyed whatever color you say

tanaka knows. he fs knows. and they avidly abuse the word rizz.

noya is a little embarrassed that he's a pervert when he has a serious crush 💀

makes nicknames for you

would ask you to come to games to watch him play, and smile at you when he made an impressive save

stands up really straight when you're around to make himself a little taller

goes absolutely crazy if you compliment him. happiest boy alive.

"You should call me Noya-Kun"

figures out what kind of music you listen to and then posts stories with it

will "jokingly" flirt with you

"wait, did that make you nervous..? If I didn't know better it might seem like you like me...!! oooooOoooooo"

Daichi Sawamura:

CLASSIC HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND

he's got that promposal planned

would love for you to come to games and would give you his jersey

is honestly shameless about having a crush, and if it went on for long enough without anything happening between you he might just casually confess

rubs the back of his neck when you talks to you

he kinda speaks quieter/softer when he's alone with you

keeps his crush kinda quiet but definitely tells people he's close with, this makes Asahi act particularly nervous around you because he's scared of giving you a bad impression!

is very protective of you but not in an obnoxious way

always offering to walk you home

typical movie-star smiles at you all the time

takes notice of you and compliments you really genuinely

"Did you do your makeup today? It looks great."

[masterlist]

[evermoreness]

ok girly I have no idea why but I need angist rn. so

what do you personally think the story would go if barty or regulus had to watch reader be tortured by death eaters (their own family) and what would the final out come be?

— Thank you for the amazing prompt, i loved writing it! Hope you like it! @msfandomsblog

secrets | regulus black - barty crouch jr.

pairing: regulus black x barty crouch jr. x reader

summary: you are working undercover for the order of the phoenix but things take a turn when your boyfriends, proud death eaters, discover how much danger you're in.

warnings: angsty, sad, mentions of blood purity, torture, blood, death and swearing.

obs: feel free to send your request!

masterlist

The first time you, Regulus, and Barty had been seen together, it had sent shockwaves through Hogwarts. The ever-composed, brooding Black heir and the unhinged, sharp-tongued prodigy of the Crouch family—both utterly devoted to you.

It had started as a game of wits. Barty loved a challenge, and Regulus enjoyed the quiet thrill of being underestimated. You had simply walked into their world with a smirk and sharp tongue, meeting their teasing and sarcasm with equal fire. Somehow, that had turned into late-night meetings in the Astronomy Tower, stolen kisses in the library, and whispered confessions between hex duels.

Regulus was the calm in the storm, his fingers always gentle when they brushed against your skin, his words measured and thoughtful. He would read to you on quiet nights, his voice a low murmur against the crackling fire, while Barty lay with his head in your lap, grinning as he plotted mayhem for the next day. Barty, for all his chaos and sharp edges, was fiercely protective, with a gaze that burned whenever someone dared to look at you the wrong way. He had a habit of pulling you against him, smirking down at you like you were the best-kept secret of his life.

The three of you were a paradox that shouldn’t have worked, yet it did.

The years passed, the war was creeping into every part of your lives. It slithered into the quiet moments, the laughter, the stolen kisses. It wrapped itself around your wrists like the Dark Mark, a constant, suffocating reminder of the choices they had made.

Regulus, Barty, and you had all taken the Mark—because what else was there? A refusal meant death, meant dishonor, meant betrayal of the very blood that ran through your veins. And so, you played the part well.

But Regulus was watching you.

At first, it was just a feeling. Something about the way you never seemed comfortable in the meetings. You didn’t speak with the same conviction as Barty, who thrived in the chaos of war. You didn’t look at the Dark Lord with the same reverence as the others. And then there were the small things—the way you flinched when Bellatrix praised a particularly gruesome mission, the way your fingers curled into your palms whenever the word "Mudblood" was thrown around carelessly.

Regulus noticed everything.

But he said nothing. Not yet.

One night, as the three of you sat in your living room, away from the prying eyes of other Death Eaters, Barty was ranting about a recent mission. His eyes were alight with excitement, his hands moving wildly as he spoke.

"And then you should have seen how he begged," Barty said, smirking. "Pathetic, really. I almost felt bad for the poor bastard."

You were staring at the fire, your fingers curled against your palm. "Almost," you murmured.

Barty glanced at you, grinning. "Come on, love, don’t tell me you’re getting all soft on me."

You forced a smirk, playing along like always. "Hardly. Just thinking about how easily that could be any one of us if we weren’t born pure enough."

Barty laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, I love when you get all philosophical on me." He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your temple. "But don’t overthink it, yeah? We’re winning. That’s what matters."

You hummed, nodding. But Regulus saw through you.

Later that night, when Barty had fallen asleep in the armchair across from the fire, Regulus pulled you aside. His grip was gentle but firm as he took your hand, leading you to the farthest corner of the room.

"You don’t believe in this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze.

"What?"

Regulus exhaled, his grey eyes searching yours. "You don’t believe in the cause."

Your heart pounded. "Reg, that’s ridiculous. Of course, I—"

"Don’t lie to me," he interrupted, his tone sharper now. He leaned in, his fingers tightening around yours. "I know you, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you look at them. The way you flinch when they talk about—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Why are you here?"

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. "Because we don’t have a choice."

Regulus studied you for a long moment. "No," he said quietly. "Because you’re hiding something."

You didn’t answer. Because what could you say? That he was right? That while he and Barty were blindly loyal to the Dark Lord, you had been sneaking off, feeding the Order information? That every time you put on the mask and followed orders, you felt like you were suffocating?

Regulus’ voice was softer now. "Tell me the truth."

You took a shaky breath. "I can’t."

His jaw tightened. "Then I’ll find it myself."

And with that, he turned, leaving you standing there, heart hammering against your ribs.

Days passed, and Regulus was unraveling.

He knew you were keeping something from him—something big. And whatever it was, it was dangerous.

He could see it in the way your shoulders tensed when certain names were mentioned at meetings, in the way your hands trembled ever so slightly after a mission, in the way you lingered at the edges of conversations instead of throwing yourself into them like Barty did.

Barty didn’t notice, of course. He was too busy basking in the thrill of war, too caught up in the chaos to see what Regulus did.

But Regulus?

He saw everything.

And it was driving him mad.

He didn’t say a word to Barty. Not yet. If he confronted you and was wrong, it could put you in danger. If he was right—which he was sure he was—then he had no idea what the hell he was going to do.

So, he watched. He waited. And the more he saw, the more the truth clawed at his chest, making it harder to breathe.

Then, one night, he’d had enough.

You were alone in the living room, sitting by the fire with a book in your lap, though you weren’t reading it. Your mind was elsewhere. It had to be—you had just returned from a secret meeting with the Order, slipping back into the house under the cover of night, your pulse still racing from the risk of it all.

You should have gone to bed. Should have buried yourself beneath your blankets and pretended—like you always did—that everything was fine.

But you didn’t get the chance.

Because Regulus found you.

"You’re going to get yourself killed," his voice was quiet but sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

You looked up, heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing in the dim glow of the fire. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, his stormy grey eyes locked onto yours with something dangerous brewing behind them.

For a split second, you considered pretending you didn’t know what he was talking about.

But the look on his face told you there was no use in lying.

"Reg—"

He took a step closer, his voice strained. "Do you have any idea how reckless you’re being?"

Your fingers curled around the pages of your book. "I don’t know what—"

"Stop it." His voice wavered, just slightly. "Don’t lie to me."

You sucked in a breath.

He sat down beside you, but there was no warmth between you this time, only tension so thick it was suffocating. His fingers were twitching against his knee, a nervous habit he rarely let anyone see.

"Tell me the truth," he said. "Please."

You looked away. "I can’t."

Regulus let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his dark curls. "I knew it," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I knew something was wrong, but I thought—" He exhaled shakily, shaking his head. "You don’t believe in any of this, do you?"

You didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

Regulus let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the couch. "Of course. Of course you don’t." He turned his head toward you, his eyes burning. "Then why are you still here?"

Your throat tightened. "Because I have to be."

"That’s not good enough."

You turned to face him fully, your pulse hammering. "What do you want me to say, Regulus? That I think this war is a nightmare? That I hate every single second of pretending I stand for something I despise? That every time I watch you and Barty throw yourselves into this, I feel like I’m losing you both?" Your voice cracked on the last words, and you bit the inside of your cheek hard.

Regulus flinched.

"You’re—" His voice caught, and he swallowed hard. "You’re working against us."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

You inhaled sharply. "I’m trying to stop something that I know will destroy us all."

Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing shallow. "And if the Dark Lord finds out?" His voice was soft now, almost fragile.

You hesitated. "Then I die."

His eyes snapped open, and for the first time since this conversation started, there was something like fear in them.

"You can’t do this," he whispered. "Y/N, if they even suspect—"

"They don’t," you cut in quickly. "No one does."

Regulus stared at you, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. "I do."

Silence.

A long, unbearable silence.

Then, finally, he spoke again.

"I should turn you in."

You stiffened.

"But you won’t."

Regulus swallowed, his hand flexing at his side. "No," he admitted, voice hoarse. "I won’t."

Your chest ached at the conflict written all over his face.

"You don’t have to believe in this either, you know," you said gently.

He let out a bitter laugh. "It’s not that simple."

"Yes, it is," you whispered.

Regulus turned his face toward you, his gaze flickering to your lips before settling back on your eyes. For a moment, he looked like he might say something—something important, something real—but then, instead, he reached out and cupped your face, his fingers barely trembling.

"You’re a fool," he murmured.

"So are you," you whispered back.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t desperate or hurried—it was slow, lingering, like he was memorizing the feel of you in case this was the last time.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven.

"I’m going to lose you," he said. It was a fact.

You closed your eyes, your fingers curling around the front of his robes. "Not yet."

Regulus exhaled shakily, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back completely. He looked at you for a long time, as if trying to burn the image of you into his memory.

Then, without another word, he stood up and walked away.

You watched him go, knowing that, after tonight, nothing would ever be the same.

Regulus didn’t sleep that night.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor while his mind spun in endless circles.

You were risking everything. Everything.

And the worst part?

He knew you were right.

He had known for a long time that Voldemort wasn’t a leader to be followed—he was a tyrant, a monster. The things he demanded, the cruelty he enjoyed—Regulus had seen enough to know that this was not the future he wanted. But still, he had stayed. Out of fear. Out of duty. Out of some warped sense of inevitability.

And now, you were standing against it.

And he was too much of a coward to do the same.

He clenched his fists, breathing heavily.

He hated himself for it.

But more than anything, he was afraid. Afraid for you. Because if Voldemort ever found out—if even the wrong person suspected—you’d be dead before you had the chance to defend yourself.

And he—God help him—he wouldn’t survive that.

Something had changed.

Barty was growing restless.

He wasn’t stupid—he saw things.

The way you and Regulus had become something else—something charged, something that teetered between love and fury. The whispers, the stolen glances, the tension so thick it made his skin crawl.

He didn’t get it.

You and Regulus had always been close, but now? Now it felt like there was something unspoken between you, something he wasn’t a part of. And Barty hated being left out.

One evening, as the three of you sat in the living room, Barty was watching the two of you like a predator studying prey.

Regulus was seated beside you on the couch, but he wasn’t touching you. That was the first thing Barty noticed. He always touched you, even in the smallest ways—a hand on your knee, fingers tracing your wrist. But now? Nothing. He was sitting stiffly, arms crossed, jaw clenched, like there was a war raging inside of him.

You were no better. You kept sneaking glances at him, your brows knitting together in frustration, your lips parting as if you wanted to say something but didn’t.

Barty leaned back in his chair, tilting his head. "Alright," he drawled, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "What the hell is going on?"

You blinked, turning to him. "What?"

"Don’t play dumb, love," Barty said, his voice almost teasing, but there was something sharp beneath it. "You two have been acting weird. Whispering, staring, fighting without actually fighting—what is it? Did Regulus forget your birthday? Did you finally tell him you like me more?" He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Regulus exhaled through his nose. "Drop it, Barty."

"Oh, I don’t think I will," Barty shot back. His smirk widened, but his eyes glinted dangerously. "Because I’m starting to think you two are keeping secrets from me."

You forced a scoff. "Oh, please. What, do you think we’re plotting against you?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time," he said. "But no, I don’t think it’s that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "See, I’ve been watching you two. And whatever this is—" he gestured between you and Regulus "—it’s not normal."

Regulus’ jaw clenched. "There’s nothing—"

"Yes, there is," Barty cut in sharply. His gaze flickered between the two of you, and for the first time, there was something like hurt beneath his usual bravado. "When did I become the third wheel?"

You inhaled slowly. "Barty—"

"Don’t," he said, his voice tight. "Just tell me what’s going on."

Silence.

Regulus was looking at the fire, his profile cast in flickering gold. He looked tired.

Barty’s expression darkened. "You know, whatever this thing is, it’s starting to piss me off."

Regulus let out a sharp breath, finally turning to look at him. "Not everything is about you, Barty."

"Oh, fuck off, Reg" Barty snapped. "Don’t pull that on me. If you two are going to keep secrets, at least have the decency to lie to me properly."

Regulus stared at him for a long moment, then stood abruptly. "I’m going to bed."

Barty let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you are."

Regulus ignored him, turning on his heel and stalking toward the dorms.

Barty turned to you. "Well?"

You hesitated. "I… can’t tell you."

Barty’s lips parted slightly, his expression twisting. "Why?"

You swallowed hard. "Because it’s not something you can know."

His jaw ticked. "That’s bullshit, and you know it."

You closed your eyes, inhaling shakily. "I’m sorry, Barty."

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a response.

He just stood there, staring at you, his fingers curled into fists at his sides. Then, without another word, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

And just like that, the cracks in your carefully built world grew wider.

Fractured bonds.

The tension between the three of you was unbearable.

Days had passed, but it felt like years. Your relationship was holding on by a thread, fragile and stretched too thin.

It was like walking on broken glass—painful, dangerous, and yet none of you could step away.

One moment, there was anger—shouting, sharp words, accusations that cut too deep. The next, there was longing—a desperate need to hold on, to kiss, to pretend that none of this was happening. It was a cycle, a vicious one, but one none of you had the strength to break.

You knew Regulus was still watching you, studying you with that sharp, knowing gaze. And Barty? Barty was unpredictable. One second, he was angry, bitter, pushing you and Regulus away—then the next, he was pulling you both back in, acting as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

And tonight, it all came crashing down.

The three of you were in your room.

A storm raged outside, rattling the windows, but the storm inside the room was far worse.

"You’re lying to us," Barty snapped, his voice laced with frustration as he paced the room. His fingers twitched at his sides, the way they always did when he was on edge. "You’re both lying to me."

"Barty—" you started, but he cut you off with a sharp glare.

"Don’t," he hissed. "I don’t want more excuses, I don’t want more half-truths. I want the fucking truth."

Regulus was standing by the fireplace, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But you could see the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fingers dug into his own arms like he was holding himself back.

"There’s nothing to tell," Regulus finally said, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Barty let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Because you two sneaking around, whispering behind my back, looking at each other like you’re going to shatter any second—that’s normal?"

"Barty, please," you tried, stepping toward him, but he stepped back.

His eyes burned into yours. "Don’t do that," he said lowly. "Don’t act like I’m the problem here."

Regulus exhaled sharply. "You’re not."

"Then tell me what’s going on," Barty snapped, turning on him.

Regulus hesitated. Just for a moment.

And that was enough.

Barty let out another sharp laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t trust me," he said, voice quieter this time. "After everything. You don’t trust me."

Your chest ached. "It’s not about trust—"

Barty scoffed. "Of course it is," he said bitterly. "Regulus barely looks at me anymore, you only talk to me when you have to, and I’m supposed to believe that everything is fine?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I’m not stupid."

"Then why are you making this harder than it already is?" Regulus said suddenly, voice tight.

Barty’s head snapped toward him. "I’m making it harder?" he repeated, incredulous.

Regulus let out a sharp breath. "You think I don’t know what this is doing to us? You think I don’t know that everything is falling apart?" His voice cracked slightly at the end, and that alone made your stomach twist. "I don’t need you to remind me."

Silence filled the room.

Barty’s expression flickered—just for a second. Then, just as quickly, he covered it with anger.

"Then fix it," he said. His voice wasn’t loud anymore. It was quiet, almost pleading. "Fix it before we lose this."

Regulus inhaled shakily, but he didn’t answer.

And neither did you.

Because deep down, you both knew—this wasn’t something that could be fixed.

Not when you were still lying to them.

Not when the war was getting closer, tearing you in different directions.

Not when you were all breaking apart and couldn’t find a way to hold on.

But despite it all—despite the anger, the pain, the lies—Barty still stepped closer.

The silence stretched between the three of you, thick and suffocating.

Regulus wasn’t looking at Barty anymore. He was staring into the fire, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself, and then—"I’m working against him."

Barty’s entire body went still.

His breathing slowed. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"What," he said, voice eerily calm.

You swallowed hard. "I’ve been helping the Order. Gathering information, passing it to them." You hesitated, glancing at Regulus. "He figured it out days ago."

Barty didn’t even blink. His eyes flicked to Regulus, and his voice was dangerously quiet when he spoke.

"And you didn’t tell me?"

Regulus turned then, his face tense. "No."

"You knew she was working against the Dark Lord, and you didn’t say a word?" Barty’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief. He took a step forward, fury rolling off him in waves. "You knew she was walking straight into death and you just—what? Let her do it?"

Regulus’s jaw clenched. "It’s not that simple."

Barty let out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, no, it is that simple, Reg." He turned to you, his eyes burning with something almost wild. "You—do you have any idea what he’ll do to you if he finds out?"

You met his gaze steadily. "I do."

"And you still—" His voice broke off as he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he wanted to throw something, break something. "You—fuck."

Regulus took a step forward, voice low. "Barty—"

"No." Barty shook his head. "No, don’t ‘Barty’ me right now. I—I don’t even know what to—you’re both fucking insane."

Regulus stayed silent.

You, however, took another step forward. "I knew you’d be mad, but I didn’t think it’d be because of this."

Barty turned to you so fast it made your breath hitch. "Are you joking?" His voice was rough, strained. "I’m not mad because you don’t believe in him. I’m mad because you—" He let out a harsh breath, shaking his head. "Because I thought I’d have a lifetime with you, and now I don’t even know if you’ll make it to next week."

Your chest tightened.

"You can’t—" His voice cracked. "You can’t just throw yourself into this war like you’re untouchable. You know what he does to traitors."

"I know," you whispered.

Barty let out another breath, and before you could react, his hands were on your face. His grip was firm, almost desperate, his thumbs tracing over your cheekbones like he was trying to memorize you. His forehead pressed against yours, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t pushing you away.

"You’re going to get yourself killed," he murmured. "And I—I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens."

Your hands came up to rest over his, your fingers curling against his wrists.

Regulus was watching, his expression unreadable. But then, finally, he stepped forward too. His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you into him.

Barty’s breathing was ragged against your skin, and you felt Regulus sigh against the top of your head.

For a moment, just a moment, none of it mattered.

Not the war.

Not the danger.

Just the three of you, holding onto each other like you were the only thing left in the world.

The world outside seemed to disappear.

For a few moments, the only thing that mattered was the feel of Barty’s hands gently cupping your face, the heat of Regulus’s body pressing against your back, his arms around you, both of them surrounding you like a fragile lifeline.

Barty’s breath was still uneven, but there was a tenderness in the way he held you now. His fingers traced over your jaw, soft, as if he were trying to memorize you. He pressed his forehead against yours again, his lips hovering so close you could feel his every breath.

"I can’t lose you," he whispered, voice breaking, as though the admission hurt. "You can’t just—" He shook his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You can’t keep doing this. I can’t—"

"Then stop me," you said softly, your voice trembling.

Barty’s eyes met yours, and for a second, he just stared, his gaze dark, conflicted. He didn’t know what to say to that. His hand moved down to your neck, fingertips brushing lightly over your skin. "I’m trying," he murmured. "But I’m losing you. Every time you walk out, every time you’re not with me..." His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, as if the words were too much for him to say.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, but the weight of it all felt heavier than it ever had. You could feel the pull between you and Barty, the tension of unspoken feelings, but also the love—the ache that had been there since this all started.

Regulus’s arms tightened around you, and he leaned down, his voice softer, quieter. "We’re here," he said gently. "We’re not leaving you. Not now, not ever."

His words, spoken in that calm, steady tone, did something to you. The tears you had been holding back threatened to spill over, but you fought them. You couldn’t break down now. Not when they were both holding you together.

"I can’t keep doing this," you whispered. "I can’t keep lying to both of you, to myself."

"You don’t have to lie," Regulus said, his voice full of quiet understanding. "You’re doing what you think is right. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone."

Your breath hitched at his words. It was like something inside you was unraveling, something you had been holding onto so tightly, afraid of losing control. But now, with them here, with them holding you, maybe it was time to stop pretending.

You turned to face Regulus, letting your fingers curl into his arm, pressing your cheek against his chest. "I’m scared," you whispered, the words coming out in a rush. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I’m so afraid of what might happen. Of what’ll happen if he finds out."

Barty’s grip on you tightened, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, "Then let us help you. We’ll keep you safe." His voice was rough with the desperation that mirrored your own. "I’m not going to let you walk into this mess without me. I’m not going to let you face it alone."

Regulus’s voice was firm, unwavering. "Neither of us are."

The three of you stood there, pressed together in the dim light of the room, the weight of everything that was happening in the world outside pressing in on you, but somehow, for a moment, it didn’t matter. The war felt so far away when they were holding you like this.

But the truth was, you couldn’t keep this secret much longer. The lies, the deception, the danger—it was all closing in, and you knew it. Yet, here they were, both of them, offering you their trust, their protection, and their love.

And somehow, for a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe it would be enough.

Barty pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. "Promise me you’ll tell me next time," he whispered, his voice softer now. "I need to know. I need you to trust me."

You nodded slowly, looking at him. "I promise."

Regulus’s arms tightened around you again, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. "I’ll be here, too," he said quietly. "Don’t think for a second you’re alone in this."

The room was so still, the storm outside distant and almost irrelevant now. You could feel their hearts, both of them, beating against you in sync. For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, as if nothing else existed except the three of you.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I never wanted to hurt either of you."

Barty’s thumb stroked over your cheek, wiping away the tear you hadn’t even noticed had fallen. "You haven’t hurt us," he said softly. "But you will if you keep doing this alone."

Regulus’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair. "We’re not asking you to fight this battle for us," he said, his voice low but steady. "But we can’t lose you."

The room felt heavier than ever, but it also felt strangely comforting. The love, the unspoken understanding between the three of you—no matter how much the world outside seemed to be falling apart, right now, here, this moment was everything.

"I don’t want to lose you either," you whispered, finally letting go of the fear that had been consuming you for so long.

And in that moment, for all the turmoil and pain and uncertainty, you knew that you wouldn’t face it alone. They were there, both of them, and as long as they were by your side, maybe—just maybe—you had a chance to survive this. Together.

His favourite.

The dark chamber was cold, the air thick with something suffocating—fear, anticipation, devotion. The Death Eaters stood in a circle, their black robes blending into the shadows, the eerie flicker of candlelight casting long, twisting silhouettes along the stone walls.

You stood between Regulus and Barty, their presence anchoring you, though it did little to quell the sickening dread curling in your stomach. Every meeting was unbearable, but tonight felt different.

The Dark Lord sat at the head of the room, his pale fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his throne-like chair. His red eyes flickered over the gathered figures before settling on you, a slow, satisfied smirk pulling at his lips.

"Ah," he murmured, voice smooth as silk. "My most promising ones."

You fought to keep your expression neutral as he rose from his seat, gliding toward the three of you with that effortless, inhuman grace.

"You never fail to impress me," Voldemort continued, his gaze lingering on you for far too long. "So young, yet so skilled. A rare combination."

Regulus shifted beside you, subtle but protective, his fingers twitching at his side. Barty, on your other side, clenched his jaw so tightly you could almost hear his teeth grind.

"My Lord," you said, lowering your head slightly, feigning deference as best you could.

His lips curled as he took a step closer, just near enough that you could feel the cold presence of his magic brushing against your skin.

"Tell me," Voldemort mused, reaching out a single, skeletal finger to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "do you understand how valuable you are to me?"

Your stomach turned.

"I only serve where I am needed, my Lord," you answered carefully, lowering your gaze just slightly, playing the part he expected of you.

His lips curled in something akin to a smile. "Humble as ever."

Barty stiffened beside you. You could feel the way his entire body was wound tight, the anger radiating off him in waves.

Regulus, ever composed, subtly shifted closer to you, his fingers brushing against yours, a silent reminder that he was there. That neither of them would let this go too far.

Voldemort, of course, noticed.

His amusement grew. "Ah," he mused, voice smooth as silk. "You boys are always so protective of her. As if she needs it."

Barty’s jaw clenched. "She is ours, my Lord." His voice was unwavering, firm, but careful. He knew better than to openly challenge him.

Voldemort’s head tilted ever so slightly, amusement flickering in his red eyes. "Oh?"

Regulus’s voice was calm, carefully measured. "We are bound to each other, My Lord. Devoted. She is ours as much as we are hers."

There was a long silence. The tension in the room crackled like static.

Then Voldemort chuckled.

You hated this. The way he looked at you. The way he spoke to you as if you were his.

"Fascinating," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over the three of you with something almost like amusement. "How devoted you are to each other. It is rare to find such unwavering loyalty."

You swallowed, resisting the urge to step back. You knew better than to show weakness here.

Voldemort exhaled through his nose, seemingly satisfied for now, and turned away, his robes billowing as he strode back toward his seat.

"But," he continued, lowering himself into his chair once more, "loyalty is not always absolute, is it?"

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Voldemort’s eyes flickered over the room, sharp and calculating. "I have reason to believe there is a traitor among us," he said, his tone casual, but the weight of his words made the air feel even heavier.

Your fingers curled into your robe.

Regulus, beside you, barely moved, but you could feel how tense he was, every muscle in his body coiled tight. Barty, too, was unnaturally still, but you could tell his mind was already racing.

Voldemort’s gaze lingered on different Death Eaters, as if searching for any sign of guilt. "Someone has been leaking information to the Order of the Phoenix," he said, his voice almost lazy. "They think they can deceive me."

The chamber was utterly silent.

You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, but you kept your breathing steady, your expression carefully blank.

"Whoever it is," Voldemort mused, his fingers tapping lightly against his armrest, "will be found. And when they are…" His smile was razor-sharp, chilling. "Well. You all know what happens to traitors."

Your stomach twisted violently.

Regulus’s hand brushed against yours—so briefly, so subtly, that no one else would have noticed, but the message was clear.

Barty, too, shifted just slightly, moving closer, his body half-angled toward you in an instinctive stance of protection.

Voldemort watched the three of you again, his expression unreadable. "Tell me," he said, "do any of you have thoughts on this… traitor?"

You knew what he was doing.

He wanted you to speak. He wanted to hear you condemn someone, to prove your allegiance.

You forced a small frown, tilting your head slightly, as if deep in thought. "If someone has betrayed you, My Lord," you said carefully, "they have made their choice, and it will be their downfall."

Voldemort regarded him for a long moment before his gaze slid back to you.

"Yes," he murmured. "I trust you will handle it."

Your throat felt dry. "Of course, my Lord."

His lips curled again, but this time there was something calculating in his eyes.

Then, without warning, he reached forward.

His cold, skeletal fingers barely grazed the side of your face before—

Barty stepped in.

Regulus moved at the same time.

"My Lord," Barty said smoothly, though his voice was tight, almost shaking with the restraint it took to keep his anger in check. "She is ours." He said again, as to remember what he just said mere minutes ago.

Regulus was more measured but no less firm. "We have always been loyal to you, my Lord. And we remain loyal to each other."

For a moment, Voldemort merely watched them.

Then he laughed.

Low and cruel.

"Fascinating," he mused. "Such devotion. Such love." His voice curled around the word as if it was something vile. "And yet, love has always been a weakness, hasn’t it?"

Regulus didn’t flinch. "Love is what makes us fight harder, my Lord. We would die for you."

Barty nodded sharply. "And we would kill for her."

Voldemort exhaled through his nose, as if weighing their words. Then, finally, he leaned back in his seat, his amusement still evident.

"Very well," he said, his voice smooth once more. "You may keep your prize."

Your stomach churned.

Your mind was racing, your body still thrumming with the aftershock of his scrutiny.

The meeting dragged on, each passing second heavy with tension. Voldemort had moved on from his initial speech, now discussing upcoming attacks, new strategies, and those who had been caught opposing him. Every word out of his mouth was a reminder of how deep they were in this war, of how much blood was on everyone’s hands.

You kept your expression neutral, nodding when appropriate, keeping your breathing steady. Barty was standing stiffly beside you, arms crossed, barely keeping himself in check. Regulus, ever composed, listened carefully, but his hands were curled into fists at his sides.

Then, as the meeting was beginning to wind down, Voldemort spoke again.

“Before you all leave,” he said smoothly, his red eyes sweeping over the gathered Death Eaters, “I will require a few moments with each of you. Privately.”

A few people shifted uneasily.

You felt a cold wave wash over you, but you didn’t let it show.

Voldemort leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable. “There is a traitor among us,” he repeated, voice silk-soft, yet carrying an undeniable weight. “And I will not be made a fool of.”

The air in the chamber thickened.

“You will come to me, one by one,” he continued. “There is no need to fear. If you are loyal, you have nothing to hide.”

A lie.

No one spoke.

Then Voldemort’s gaze flicked to Barty. “We will begin with you, Crouch.”

Barty stiffened, then exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders back. You could tell he was biting back something sharp, something reckless, but he held his tongue.

Voldemort stood, gesturing toward a door at the back of the chamber. “Come.”

Barty turned to you for half a second—just enough for you to catch the flicker of fire in his eyes. He wasn’t afraid. He was furious.

Then, without another glance, he followed Voldemort into the private room, the door clicking shut behind them.

The room was dimly lit, a single candle on the desk casting elongated shadows along the walls. Barty stepped inside, keeping his head held high, his expression carefully blank.

Voldemort took his time, moving to the other side of the desk, settling into a high-backed chair.

“Sit.”

Barty hesitated, then dropped into the chair across from him, his movements casual, but his muscles coiled tight.

Voldemort studied him for a long moment, red eyes gleaming. “You have always been a fascinating one, Barty,” he murmured. “So eager. So loyal. Unlike your father.”

Barty clenched his jaw. His father. That was the entire reason he had joined this war in the first place—to rebel, to ruin his father’s perfect reputation, to show him that he would never be the son he wanted. But the more he had thrown himself into the Death Eaters, the more he had begun to realize just how much he hated being under someone else’s control.

Especially when that someone was Voldemort.

Voldemort reached into a drawer, pulling out a small vial of clear liquid. “You know what this is, of course.”

Veritaserum.

Barty schooled his expression into one of mild interest, watching as Voldemort poured a few drops into a goblet of water.

“You will drink,” Voldemort said smoothly, pushing the goblet forward. “And then we will talk.”

Barty didn’t even blink. He took the goblet, swirling the liquid absently, as if he had nothing to fear. Then he tipped his head back and drank.

The potion slid down his throat, cool and tasteless. A normal person would already be feeling its effects, their mind opening like an unlocked door.

But Barty had poisoned himself with Veritaserum long ago. The resistance had built slowly, painfully, over time, but now it was absolute.

Voldemort sat back, watching him with keen eyes. “Good,” he murmured. Then, after a pause— “Tell me, Barty… have you noticed anything unusual within our ranks?”

Barty raised an eyebrow. “Aside from the obvious paranoia?”

Voldemort’s lips curled ever so slightly. “Clever,” he said. “But not an answer.”

Barty exhaled through his nose, tilting his head as if in thought. “If there is a traitor,” he said lazily, “then they’re damn good at hiding it. No one seems particularly suspicious to me.”

A lie, spoken with absolute ease.

Voldemort’s gaze was unwavering. “You are close to her,” he said, voice soft, but pointed. “Your little love affair is no secret.”

Barty’s hands curled into fists beneath the table. He forced a smirk. “Jealous, My Lord?”

A sharp, ringing silence.

Then—Voldemort laughed. A slow, cold sound, more amused than offended. “Ah, Barty,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “Your loyalty is not in question. Your temper, however… is intriguing.”

Barty said nothing.

Voldemort watched him carefully, then took a step closer. "Tell me, Barty," he said, his voice a whisper of silk and steel. "Have you ever doubted me?"

Barty tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question. Then, smoothly, he said, "No, my Lord."

It was a performance. The perfect lie.

Voldemort’s gaze bore into his, sharp and probing. Barty felt the magic press against his mind, slithering, seeking. He focused, let his occlumency build walls of ice, let his thoughts scatter like mist. He had trained for this moment, had carved his mind into a fortress that no one—not even the Dark Lord—could break into.

After a moment, Voldemort made a small sound. Amused. Intrigued.

"You are not so easily read," he mused.

Barty allowed himself a small, careful smirk. "I’ve always valued my privacy."

Voldemort chuckled, a low, cold sound. "Indeed."

He turned slightly, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, almost lazily, he asked, "Do you trust your… companions?"

Barty knew exactly who he meant. He forced his body to remain relaxed. "Regulus and her?" he said, as if the question was absurd. "Of course. We trust each other with our lives."

Voldemort hummed. "And yet, trust is so often misplaced."

Barty’s fingers twitched at his sides. He hated this. Hated the way Voldemort spoke about them, hated the way his gaze darkened with something possessive whenever he mentioned her.

Voldemort leaned forward slightly, his red eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “She is… captivating, isn’t she?”

Barty’s blood ran cold.

The way Voldemort said it, the way he let the words roll off his tongue like a slow poison, made his skin crawl.

“I have seen the way you look at her,” Voldemort continued, watching him closely. “The way both of you do.”

Barty gritted his teeth. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to do something reckless, something stupid.

“I have no objections to… loyalty,” Voldemort said. “But tell me, Barty—would you be so loyal if she were to betray you?”

Barty inhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet Voldemort’s gaze with unwavering eyes. “She would never betray me,” he said, voice steady, but laced with something dangerous.

Voldemort studied him for a moment longer, as if searching for something in his expression. Then he hummed. “We shall see.”

He leaned back again, fingers tapping against the desk. “You may go.”

Barty didn’t hesitate. He stood, turned, and strode toward the door, his every movement sharp and controlled.

But as he reached for the handle, Voldemort’s voice stopped him.

“Oh, and Barty?”

He clenched his jaw before slowly glancing over his shoulder.

Voldemort’s smirk was barely there, but it was there nonetheless. “She is quite lucky to have you.”

Barty said nothing.

Then he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The moment Barty stepped out of the room, Regulus knew something was wrong.

Barty had always been good at masking his emotions, but right now, his shoulders were too stiff, his fists clenched too tight. His usually smug expression was gone, replaced by something dark, something furious.

Regulus didn't ask. He didn't need to. He simply met Barty's gaze for a fraction of a second before Voldemort’s voice called his name.

"Regulus."

Regulus inhaled slowly, steadying himself before stepping forward. The air in the room was thick with something unseen, something suffocating. He kept his posture straight, his expression blank.

Voldemort gestured toward the same goblet, still laced with Veritaserum.

"Drink."

Regulus took the cup and swallowed it with the same practiced ease as Barty. He felt nothing. The years of slow poisoning had paid off.

Voldemort studied him carefully before speaking. "You are an interesting one, Regulus," he said, pacing around him. "So quiet. So… calculating."

Regulus said nothing.

Voldemort tilted his head. "Do you doubt me?"

Regulus met his gaze, eyes as cold and unreadable as ever. "No, my Lord."

A lie. Smooth, effortless.

Voldemort hummed, stepping closer. "Your mind is quiet," he mused, his tone amused. "Most people cannot silence their thoughts so well."

Regulus remained still, his Occlumency shields firmly in place. He had learned early on that emotions were weaknesses, that showing anything more than cold obedience would only draw suspicion.

Voldemort circled him like a predator. "You are devoted to the cause, are you not?"

Regulus nodded once. "Of course."

Another lie.

Voldemort chuckled, seemingly entertained. "And yet," he murmured, "I wonder… what is it that you truly believe in, Regulus?"

Regulus held his gaze. "I believe in what you have taught us, my Lord," he said smoothly. "That power is meant for those who can wield it. That weakness must be eradicated."

Voldemort smiled, pleased.

Regulus had always been good at telling people exactly what they wanted to hear.

Voldemort’s gaze darkened slightly, his next words slow, deliberate. "And what of her?"

Regulus’ jaw tightened, barely perceptible.

Voldemort’s smirk widened. "You, Barty, and her… it is amusing, really. You act as though she belongs to you."

Regulus remained silent.

"But you forget," Voldemort continued, stepping closer, "that I am the one who chooses whom she belongs to."

His voice was soft, almost thoughtful, but the weight of the words sent something cold and sharp crawling up Regulus' spine.

Regulus forced his expression to remain blank, but his blood was burning beneath his skin. He wanted nothing more than to lash out, to put an end to the way Voldemort’s gaze lingered on her. But that would be reckless. Stupid.

Instead, he inhaled slowly, masking his fury behind a carefully controlled voice. "She is loyal, my Lord," he said smoothly. "That is all that matters."

Voldemort chuckled. "Is it?"

He studied Regulus for a long moment, searching. Trying to push past the wall of ice that Regulus had spent years perfecting.

But he found nothing.

After a moment, Voldemort let out a quiet sigh, as if slightly disappointed. "You may go," he said finally.

Regulus didn’t hesitate. He turned and walked out of the room, his steps controlled, his breathing even.

But the moment the door shut behind him, his fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms so hard it hurt.

Barty was waiting for him in the corridor, his expression just as stormy.

Regulus exhaled slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hate him."

Barty’s lips curled into something dark, something sharp. "That makes two of us."

Just some moments ago, it was your turn to be interrogated by the dark lord.

The door creaked as you stepped inside, your heartbeat steady but your stomach twisting. You had always known this moment would come. The moment where you had to sit across from him, knowing the web of lies you had carefully woven could crumble with a single misplaced word, a single crack in your composure.

Voldemort’s crimson eyes locked onto you, and a slow, knowing smile stretched across his pale lips.

"Finally," he murmured. "I saved the best for last."

You forced a small smile, polite but distant, before stepping forward and taking the goblet from his outstretched hand. You tilted it back, letting the liquid slip down your throat. It tasted bitter, like metal and rot, but you didn’t flinch.

Voldemort watched your closely, his head tilting slightly.

"Tell me," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Do you know who has been leaking information to the Order?"

You met his gaze without hesitation. "No, my Lord."

Truth spilled effortlessly from her lips—just not the whole truth.

Voldemort hummed, tapping his long fingers against the arm of his chair. "Curious. I was sure someone of your intelligence would have some idea."

You shook your head. "If I did, I would tell you."

Another lie, clean and sharp.

Voldemort leaned back, watching your in consideration. Then, without warning, he reached forward, long fingers pressing against your temple.

You didn’t flinch. You had expected this.

The moment his magic touched your mind, you strengthened your Occlumency shields, keeping your thoughts blank and your emotions steady. You had practiced for years, had learned from the best.

The fact was that Regulus was the one to teach you and Barty the secrets of occlumency. It was Regulus who slowly poisoned the three of you until you were resistant to veritaserum. Regulus was always thinking three steps ahead.

Nothing.

Voldemort’s frown deepened.

"You are difficult to read," he murmured, almost fascinated. "Like Regulus. I wonder… have you been learning from him?"

"I learn from those who are worth learning from, my Lord," you answered smoothly.

Voldemort chuckled. "Clever girl."

You held still as his fingers traced lightly down your cheek, the cold, skeletal touch sending revulsion curling in your stomach. But you remained impassive, empty. Just like Regulus. Just like Barty.

"You are so obedient," Voldemort praised, his tone almost… fond. "So loyal."

You didn’t respond.

Voldemort let his fingers drift lower, brushing against her jaw. "Unlike the others, you understand true power, don’t you?"

You swallowed back the bile rising in your throat and answered, your voice steady. "Yes, my Lord."

His eyes gleamed, and his thumb ghosted over your lower lip.

"You could be greater than them," Voldemort mused, his tone light, almost indulgent. "Why waste your time with children when you could stand beside someone truly powerful?"

Your stomach twisted.

"I am where I wish to be, my Lord" you said flatly.

Voldemort chuckled again, as if your words were amusing rather than a rejection.

"Are you?" he asked, tilting his head. "I see how they cling to you. How they think you belong to them." His fingers trailed down your arm, slow, deliberate. "But you are not theirs."

You kept your breath even, forcing yourself not to recoil.

"You deserve more," he continued. "Someone who can give you more. I could give you more."

The disgust was a wildfire in your chest, but you did not let it show. You met his gaze, cold and impassive. "I am honored, my Lord," you said carefully. "But I am loyal."

Voldemort searched your face, as if trying to find a crack in your perfect mask.

Then, after a long silence, he sighed. "A shame," he murmured, his fingers finally drawing away.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your skin still crawling.

Voldemort leaned back, watching you with something close to amusement. "You may go," he said finally. "And do not let those boys keep you from reaching your true potential."

You gave a short nod and turned on your heel, leaving the room without haste but without hesitation.

The moment the door shut behind you, you sucked in a breath, your hands shaking slightly before you clenched them into fists.

Barty and Regulus were already waiting for you.

And the moment you saw them, the disgust, the revulsion, the lingering phantom touch of Voldemort’s hands—it all became unbearable.

Barty noticed first. His eyes darkened. "What the hell did he do?"

Regulus stepped forward, his jaw tight. His hand brushed against yours, grounding, steady. "Did he—?"

"I’m fine," you said quickly, but your voice was strained, your mask cracking.

Barty’s fists clenched. "I’ll kill him."

Regulus said nothing, but his eyes were filled with something dark, something murderous.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. "Not here. Not now."

Barty let out a sharp breath, still furious, but he stepped closer, his hand curling around the back of your neck. "That bastard," he muttered, his voice low, deadly.

Regulus placed a hand on your waist, grounding you. "You’re trembling," he murmured.

You exhaled shakily. "I just need to leave."

They didn’t argue.

Regulus slipped an arm around your shoulders, and Barty took your hand, squeezing it tightly.

And together, you walked away, leaving the darkness behind you.

The moment you were outside, far from prying eyes and listening ears, the weight of what had just happened crashed down on you.

You felt filthy. Like Voldemort’s touch had left something rotting on your skin, something you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Your stomach twisted, nausea rising, and you could feel your hands shaking. But you kept walking, head high, expression cold and unreadable. You knew better than to let anyone see you like this.

But Barty and Regulus saw.

They always saw.

Barty was practically vibrating with rage beside you, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had turned white. Regulus was walking with tense, controlled movements, his jaw locked, his eyes dark.

As soon as you were far enough from the meeting place, in the secluded forest where they had Apparated in, you stopped. And then—you broke.

A sob wrenched its way out of your throat before you could stop it. Your knees buckled, and you covered your mouth with your hands, trying to quiet the sound, but it was useless.

Barty was at your side in an instant. "Fuck," he muttered, voice tight. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—come here." He pulled your into his arms, crushing you against his chest.

You clung to him, fists curling into his robes as the sobs wracked your body. "I hate him," you choked out. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him—"

Regulus placed a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. "It’s over," he murmured, his voice low, controlled. But you could hear the restrained fury underneath it. "He can’t touch you now."

Barty’s breathing was ragged, and you could feel the way his whole body was shaking with barely restrained anger. "Where did he touch you?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

You hesitated for half a second before whispering, "My face. My jaw. My arm. My—my lip."

Barty made a sound so vicious it barely sounded human. "I’m going back there," he growled. "I swear to fucking Merlin, I’ll—"

"No, you won’t," Regulus said sharply, his grip on you tightening as if to remind Barty of what truly mattered right now. "She needs us. Not a fight you won’t win."

Barty let out a sharp breath, his whole body still shaking with fury, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to your temple, his fingers curling protectively around the nape of your neck. "I swear to you, if he ever does that again—"

"He won’t," Regulus interrupted, his voice filled with quiet, deadly certainty. "We won’t let him."

You sniffled, finally pulling back enough to wipe your tears away. "I just—I just want to go home," you whispered.

Regulus nodded. "Let’s go."

Barty took your hand, squeezing it tightly. "And then you’re taking the longest shower of your fucking life, and we’re going to make sure you forget every second of what just happened."

You exhaled shakily, nodding. "Please."

The moment you Apparated back to the Black estate, the suffocating weight in your chest barely lifted. The grand, dark halls of the house were cold, eerie, but you were safe. Safe from him. Safe from the way his fingers had burned into your skin like something rotten, something vile you couldn’t scrub away.

You barely made it past the threshold before your legs gave out again, but this time, Barty caught you before you could fall. His arms wrapped around you, strong and grounding, holding you up even when you felt like crumbling.

Regulus shut the door behind you, locking it with a flick of his wand. Then he turned to you, his gaze sharp, analyzing. His mind was already working, calculating, planning—what to do next, how to stop this from happening again.

But Barty? Barty was all fire.

"You’re shaking," he muttered, voice raw with barely contained fury. He pressed his forehead against yours, his grip tightening around you. "You’re fucking shaking."

Of course, you were. You could still feel Voldemort’s touch like something etched into your skin. You hated it. Hated it so much you wanted to rip yourself apart just to make it go away.

Regulus took your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up so he could look at you. His touch was nothing like Voldemort’s—it was steady, firm, but careful. His thumb brushed over your jaw, where Voldemort had dared to trace. His eyes darkened. "I should kill him," he murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

You let out a shaky breath. "You can’t."

Regulus’ jaw clenched. "Doesn’t mean I won’t find another way to make him suffer."

Barty growled under his breath, still vibrating with rage. "Why didn’t you slap his fucking hand away?"

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. "Because he’s Voldemort, Barty."

Barty’s grip on you tightened. "I don’t care," he hissed. "If he ever—if he ever fucking touches you again—"

Regulus cut him off, voice sharper than usual. "He won’t."

Barty turned to him, expression still twisted in fury. "How can you be so sure?"

Regulus met his gaze without hesitation. "Because next time, I’ll kill him myself."

You let out a broken sound, something between a laugh and a sob. "I love you both," you murmured, shaking your head. "But you can’t just kill Voldemort."

Barty scoffed, running a hand through his hair, eyes wild. "Watch me."

Regulus exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing against yours before he took your hand. "Right now, we need to take care of you." His voice was softer now, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath it. "Shower. Fresh clothes. Something warm to drink. And then sleep."

You hesitated. "I don’t want to be alone."

Barty scoffed. "Like we’d let that happen."

Regulus’ grip tightened. "We’ll be with you the whole time."

A lump formed in your throat, and you exhaled, nodding. "Okay."

Barty pulled away first, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the bathroom. "Come on. We’re scrubbing every trace of that bastard off you."

Regulus followed, quiet, watchful, protective.

And for the first time since the meeting, since Voldemort’s hands had dared to touch you, you felt like you could breathe again.

The bathroom was warm, steam curling around the air as the enchanted taps filled the bathtub. The scent of lavender and cedarwood filled the space—Regulus’ doing, no doubt, since he always had a way of making things feel softer, safer.

Barty sat on the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled up, watching the water rise. His knee bounced impatiently, hands still clenched into fists, but his eyes kept flickering back to you. Regulus stood behind you, fingers at the clasp of your cloak, carefully undoing it before sliding it off your shoulders.

Regulus sighed, stepping closer. "You don’t have to do anything," he murmured. "We’ll take care of you."

You swallowed, exhaustion pressing into your bones. "I feel disgusting."

Barty’s jaw tightened. "That’s because he is disgusting." His hands curled over yours, his grip firm but warm. "We’re fixing this. Now."

Regulus reached up, brushing his fingers against your jaw—the same spot Voldemort had touched. His touch was a whisper against your skin, gentle, reverent, as if trying to erase the phantom feeling of someone else’s hands on you.

"Let us," he said simply.

Your throat tightened, but you nodded. "Okay."

Regulus undid the buttons of your robes, slow, deliberate, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he slid the fabric down your arms, leaving you in only your underwear. Barty stood, pressing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "Get in."

You stepped into the tub, the hot water enveloping you instantly, and let out a shuddering breath. It was comforting, but the unease in your chest hadn’t left yet.

Barty knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves even more, grabbing a washcloth. "Close your eyes," he murmured.

You did.

The cloth was warm, soft against your skin as Barty ran it over your arm, wiping away the invisible filth you still felt clinging to you. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle, slow and careful. "It’s just me," he murmured, as if reassuring you. "Just us."

Regulus kneeled behind you, gathering your wet hair in his hands, his fingers brushing against your scalp. "Tilt your head back," he instructed softly.

You did as he asked, and a moment later, water poured over your hair, washing away the remnants of the night.

They worked in quiet synchrony—Regulus washing your hair with slow, practiced fingers, Barty scrubbing your arms and shoulders, tracing patterns into your skin that felt like protection, like a vow.

"I hate him," Barty muttered under his breath.

Regulus hummed in agreement, fingers still in your hair. "He doesn’t own you," he said quietly. "No matter what he thinks."

Barty’s fingers curled around your wrist, his lips brushing against your knuckles. "You’re ours," he murmured. "Not his."

Your breath hitched. The weight of their words, the warmth of their hands—it was all too much and yet not enough. You turned your head slightly, opening your eyes, meeting Regulus’ gaze.

"Stay with me," you whispered.

Regulus’ thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a droplet of water. "Always."

Barty grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You’re not getting rid of us that easily, love."

You exhaled shakily, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

Regulus rinsed the last of the shampoo from your hair, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "You’re clean now," he murmured. "Inside and out."

Barty kissed your wrist again before reaching for a towel. "Time to dry off, sweetheart. We’ve got a bed waiting for you."

You let them pull you up, wrapping you in the warmth of the towel and their hands. Every touch, every whispered reassurance, every kiss against your skin was a promise—of protection, of devotion, of something bigger than the war, bigger than the darkness that loomed over all of you.

Because tonight, for just a little while, you weren’t a soldier.

You were just theirs.

Regulus carried you out of the bathroom, his grip firm but careful, like he was holding something precious. Barty was right behind, still fussing, rubbing the towel over your arms and legs, making sure you were completely dry before you got into bed.

"You’re treating me like I’m made of glass," you mumbled, your voice still hoarse from earlier.

Barty scoffed, tossing the towel aside. "Yeah? Well, you bloody shattered back there, didn’t you?"

Regulus shot him a look. "Not helping."

Barty groaned, raking a hand through his damp hair. "I’m not trying to be an arse, alright? I just—" His voice wavered, and for the first time that night, you saw something else behind his anger. Fear.

He had been scared.

You reached for him, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. "I’m okay," you whispered.

Barty let out a sharp breath, looking down at you, his hands settling on your hips. "No, you’re not," he murmured. "But you will be."

Regulus, ever the silent force of control, gently nudged Barty aside and guided you toward the bed. "Lie down," he instructed softly.

You obeyed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh. It smelled like them—clean linen, a hint of Barty’s cologne, and something darker, something that always reminded you of Regulus.

They crawled in beside you, one on each side, their warmth seeping into your skin. Barty was always restless, so it didn’t surprise you when he pulled you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear. His fingers trailed along your spine, drawing lazy, distracted patterns.

"You still feel it?" he asked after a moment.

You knew what he meant. The ghost of Voldemort’s touch, the suffocating presence of him, the way your skin had burned under his fingers like a brand you couldn’t wash away.

You swallowed hard. "A little."

Barty made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, his grip tightening. "I’d kill him if I could," he muttered.

"You’d die trying," Regulus pointed out, his voice quiet. He was lying on his side, watching you, his hand resting just above your knee. "And she wouldn’t want that."

Barty sighed, pressing his forehead against your hair. "Yeah, well. It’s the thought that counts."

Regulus gave a small, almost amused exhale, but his fingers traced small, soothing circles against your skin. "Close your eyes," he murmured.

You did.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Barty’s lips brushed against your temple, and he whispered, "Mine."

Regulus leaned in, pressing a kiss just below your jaw, his voice a ghost against your skin. "Ours."

A shiver ran down your spine—not from fear, not from disgust, but from something else entirely. Something safe.

Something that felt like home.

And for the first time that night, you felt clean.

Trying to understand.

The three of you sat in the dimly lit bedroom, an unspoken tension thick in the air. Days had passed since the last Death Eater meeting, and the weight of everything was pressing down on you. You knew this conversation was inevitable. You had kept your secrets long enough.

Regulus sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded, looking calm—too calm. It was the kind of stillness he carried when he was deep in thought, when his mind was running faster than he’d ever let on. Barty, on the other hand, was sprawled across the chair near the fireplace, one leg bouncing up and down in irritation. He wasn’t good at keeping still when he was frustrated.

"You’re going to have to explain," Barty said, voice sharp. He wasn’t yelling, but his frustration was evident. "Because I get that you hate the Dark Lord. I get that you hate everything he stands for. But what I don’t get is why you’re still doing this. You know it’s suicide, right?"

Regulus finally looked at you, his cold grey eyes searching, studying. "Barty’s right," he said, and Barty let out an incredulous scoff at Regulus agreeing with him. "If anyone finds out what you’re doing, you’ll be dead before you can even pull your wand. And we won’t be able to stop it."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I know the risks," you said.

"Then why?" Barty demanded. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

You looked at both of them, really looked at them. They were your boys—angry and protective and scared in their own ways. But you had to make them understand.

"Because someone has to," you said simply.

Barty groaned, running a hand through his hair. "That’s not a real answer. Try again."

You exhaled slowly. "You want the truth? Fine. I never believed in this cause. Not for one second. I never thought blood purity meant anything. I never thought Voldemort was some great leader destined to change the world. I never thought any of this was right."

Regulus tilted his head slightly, something unreadable flashing in his expression. Barty, however, leaned forward, his jaw tight. "So why the hell did you join in the first place?"

"Because I had no choice," you admitted. "Just like you."

Barty flinched. You knew you hit a nerve.

"You did it because of your father," you continued, voice softer now. "You wanted to spite him. You wanted to prove something. But you never really believed in it either, did you?"

Barty clenched his jaw. "I believe in blood purity," he shot back, though there was something defensive in his tone, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You gave him a sad smile. "Do you?"

His fingers twitched. "I—" He stopped, huffing. "Fuck. I don’t know."

Regulus finally spoke. "You joined the Order, didn’t you?"

You nodded. "Not officially. But I’ve been feeding them information. Helping them from the inside."

Regulus didn’t even look surprised. He just let out a long breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

Barty, on the other hand, looked like he was going to explode. "And what, you thought you’d just keep this up forever? That no one would ever figure it out? That the Dark Lord wouldn’t eventually start questioning why one of his most trusted followers is always one step behind the Order?"

"I know it won’t last forever," you admitted. "I know eventually I’ll get caught. But until then, I can make a difference. I can save people."

Barty scoffed. "Save people? And who’s gonna save you?"

You swallowed hard. "I’m not asking to be saved."

"Well, too fucking bad," Barty snapped. "Because we’re not just going to sit here and watch you get yourself killed."

Regulus was quiet, but you could see the way his hands clenched into fists. "You should have told us sooner," he murmured.

You looked down. "Would you have helped me?"

Regulus didn’t answer immediately. But then—"Yes."

Your head snapped up. Even Barty looked startled. "What?" you asked.

Regulus met your gaze, something resolute in his expression. "I said yes. I would’ve helped you."

Barty let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. "Oh, for fuck’s sake, not you too."

Regulus ignored him, keeping his focus on you. "I never wanted this life either. I was born into it, like you. Like Barty. But I never wanted it."

For the first time, Barty looked genuinely thrown off. "Are you saying you’re going to join her?"

Regulus didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at you. And in that moment, you realized—he already had. Maybe not officially, maybe not yet, but in his mind, he had already chosen.

"I’m saying I can’t just keep pretending," he said simply.

Barty groaned again, rubbing his temples. "This is insanity. You know that, right?"

"You don’t have to make a choice right now," you told him softly.

Barty glanced at you, his eyes burning with something unreadable. "You’re my choice," he said. "You and him. That’s it. That’s all I fucking care about."

Regulus’s expression softened, just slightly.

You exhaled. "Then let’s figure this out. Together."

Regulus shook his head, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "We won’t die."

Barty snorted. "You say that like you actually believe it."

Regulus met your eyes again, and his hand found yours, fingers lacing together.

"I do."

Not alone.

The room was silent, the air thick with the warmth of sleep. The steady rise and fall of Barty and Regulus’ breathing filled the dimly lit space, the only sound breaking through the stillness. You moved carefully, inching out from beneath the covers, making sure not to shift too much weight onto the creaky floorboards. Every muscle in your body was tense, every movement calculated.

You had done this before—sneaking out while they slept, slipping away into the night. But tonight was different. You barely made it two steps from the bed before—

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?"

Barty’s voice, thick with sleep but sharp as a knife, cut through the air.

You froze, cursing internally.

Then, another voice—low, cold, but not groggy. Regulus. "You weren’t seriously about to go alone, were you?"

Your stomach twisted. Of course they woke up. Of course they did.

You turned slowly, your expression schooled into neutrality. "I have something to do."

Barty let out a humorless laugh, sitting up in bed, rubbing his hands down his face. "Oh yeah? And let me guess, it involves you sneaking out like a fucking idiot in the middle of the night?"

Regulus was already sitting up too, his sharp grey eyes locked onto you like he was reading every thought in your head. "You’re going to them," he stated. Not a question. A fact.

You sighed. "I need to—"

"No, you don’t," Barty snapped. "You don’t need to do shit. What you need to do is stay here, where it’s safe, and not get yourself killed."

You crossed your arms. "I can take care of myself."

"Yeah? Then what? You come back bleeding?"

Regulus was already moving, already reaching for his wand, his shoes, his cloak. "If you’re going, I’m going."

You frowned. "Regulus—"

"Don’t start," he said, cold and final. "You’re not doing this alone."

Barty groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair. "Oh, for fuck’s sake—both of you are insane."

Regulus didn’t even glance at him as he pulled on his coat. "Someone has to make sure she doesn’t die on the way there."

Barty stared at him like he was the dumbest person alive. "Or—and hear me out—we could just not go."

You turned to Barty. "I have to do this, Barty."

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Why?" His voice was quieter now, less rage, more frustration. More worry. "Why do you always have to be the one risking everything?"

You softened, stepping closer to him, resting a hand on his arm. "Because I can help."

Barty closed his eyes briefly, exhaling hard through his nose. "I hate you," he muttered.

You smirked. "No, you don’t."

He shot you a glare before looking at Regulus, who was already fastening his cloak like he had accepted his fate. "And you. You’re supposed to be the smart one. What the hell are you doing?"

Regulus raised a brow. "Making sure she doesn’t do something reckless and die."

Barty scoffed. "That’s my job."

"Then get dressed."

Barty groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before grumbling, "I swear to Merlin, you two are going to be the death of me." But despite his complaints, he was already pulling on his cloak, grabbing his wand.

Regulus smirked slightly. "Then we’ll make sure you die in good company."

Barty shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up, Black."

You smiled despite yourself, your heart swelling at the sight of them. They would never let you do this alone. Even when they were furious at you, even when they thought you were making the worst decision possible, they were with you.

"Alright," you said, exhaling. "Let’s go."

Barty shook his head, muttering under his breath as he stepped closer to you and Regulus. "If we die, I’m haunting you both for eternity."

Regulus smirked again. "Noted."

And with that, the three of you disappeared into the night.

Working for the order.

The weeks bled into each other, every day more dangerous than the last.

You were in too deep now, tangled in something that could kill you at any moment. Regulus had started helping, slipping into the shadows with you, covering your tracks, whispering secrets in dark corners when no one was listening. And Barty—Barty never agreed, never wanted any of this, but he came anyway, because as much as he bitched and groaned about your "stupid, reckless decisions," he refused to let you and Regulus run into the fire alone.

Tonight was no different.

The three of you crouched behind an old stone wall, hidden in the ruins of what used to be a manor before Death Eaters had burned it to the ground. It was your meeting spot with one of the Order members, but something felt off. The air was too still.

Barty shifted beside you, whispering, "This is a fucking stupid idea. Just so we’re all aware."

Regulus didn’t even glance at him. "Noted."

Barty scowled. "You keep saying that, and yet we keep doing these stupid things."

You smirked slightly, despite the tension crackling in the air. "And yet you keep coming."

Barty groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Because you two have a death wish, and apparently, I’m the only one who gives a shit."

Regulus’ voice was calm, quiet. "You give a shit because you care."

Barty scoffed. "Shut up, Black."

Before Regulus could respond, you stiffened. Footsteps. Three of them. You immediately pressed yourself lower against the stone, heart hammering. Regulus was still, calculating. Barty’s hand was already on his wand.

Then, a voice: "It’s me."

You exhaled, recognizing the voice of the Order member. Slowly, you stood, stepping out of your hiding place, Regulus and Barty moving with you.

"You’re late," you whispered.

The man—tall, broad-shouldered, his face lined with exhaustion—nodded grimly. "Ran into some trouble. Had to take a longer route." His gaze flickered to the two boys beside you. "I see you brought company."

"They’re with me," you said firmly.

The man studied them both for a long moment. "Black," he said, looking at Regulus. "Didn’t think I’d ever see you working against them."

Regulus didn’t blink. "You still haven’t."

The man raised a brow. "You’re here."

"To protect her," Regulus said smoothly.

Barty let out a scoff. "Yeah, well, same. I don’t give a shit about your little rebellion, mate."

The man didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he handed you a small, folded piece of parchment. "There’s going to be a raid. Tomorrow night. You know where."

Your stomach twisted. You knew exactly where.

Regulus was reading your expression like a book. "You’re not going."

You looked at him sharply. "I have to."

Barty let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, of course you do. Because throwing yourself into a fucking raid is such a brilliant plan."

You turned fully to them, your hands clenched into fists. "I don’t have a choice."

Barty stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes. "There’s always a choice."

"Not for me."

Regulus exhaled, his voice calmer but just as firm. "We’ll go with you."

You hesitated. "Reg—"

"We’re going," he interrupted, voice final.

Barty groaned. "I hate you both. I really do."

Regulus smirked slightly. "No, you don’t."

Barty scowled. "I do. I hate you both so fucking much."

You sighed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. "We should go before someone finds us."

The Order member gave you a nod before disappearing into the night.

As soon as he was gone, Barty let out another dramatic groan. "I swear to Merlin, I should just let you both die one of these days."

Regulus hummed. "You won’t."

Barty shot him a glare. "I’m actually going to kill you, Black."

You rolled your eyes. "Can we go home now?"

Barty let out a breath, looking at you, his frustration melting into something softer. "Yeah. Let’s go home."

And with that, the three of you vanished into the darkness once more.

The next day came quickly.

The raid was chaos. Spells flew in every direction, lighting up the darkened alleyways in flashes of green, red, and white. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and blood, the screams of both fighters and innocent people caught in the crossfire.

You moved quickly, ducking behind debris, sending hexes at Death Eaters while trying to get civilians to safety. Regulus was somewhere nearby, casting silent curses with deadly precision, and Barty—Barty was fighting like a man possessed, reckless and furious.

Everything was going to plan. Until it wasn’t.

You turned a corner, trying to get to the last group of civilians, when a hand grabbed your wrist. Before you could react, a Disillusionment Charm was lifted, revealing a group of masked Death Eaters waiting in the shadows.

It was a trap.

Cold fear shot down your spine as a wand was pressed against your throat. "Look at what we have here," a voice sneered. "The little rat."

Your stomach twisted.

They knew.

You struggled, trying to reach for your wand, but someone yanked it from your grasp, shoving you hard against the wall. The impact stole the breath from your lungs.

"Thought you could betray the Dark Lord and get away with it?" another voice hissed.

You tried to think, tried to find a way out, but there were too many of them. Your mind was racing, but before you could even attempt to escape, someone hit you with a spell—

"Crucio."

Pain exploded through your body, white-hot and unbearable. A scream tore from your throat as you collapsed, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath you. Your nerves were on fire, your body convulsing against the relentless torture.

The spell lifted for a moment, just long enough for you to gasp for breath, before another Death Eater crouched beside you, yanking your hair back so you were forced to look at them.

"How long?" they demanded. "How long have you been feeding them information?"

You gritted your teeth, blood dripping from your lip where you had bitten down to keep from screaming again.

"Fuck. You," you spat.

A hard slap cracked across your face.

"Wrong answer," the Death Eater growled.

Another curse slammed into you, sending fresh waves of agony coursing through your body. Your vision blurred, black spots dancing in your sight, but you refused to break.

You couldn’t.

Not too far away from where you were, your boys were having a heated argument.

Regulus was fuming. "You’re going to get yourself killed, Crouch."

Barty scoffed, wiping blood from his cheek. "And what the fuck do you call what we’re doing right now? A lovely evening stroll?"

"You’re reckless," Regulus snapped. "You don’t think. You act on impulse, and one day, it’s going to get you caught."

"Funny," Barty shot back, eyes narrowing. "Because I could say the same about you, Black. At least I know what I stand for. What the fuck do you believe in?"

Regulus stiffened, his expression unreadable.

"That’s what I thought," Barty muttered.

Before Regulus could respond, something changed. A shift in the air.

It took him a moment to realize what was wrong.

"You hear that?" he asked suddenly.

Barty frowned. "What?"

Regulus’ heartbeat picked up. "Exactly."

The sounds of battle were still loud, but something was missing.

You.

Regulus turned sharply, scanning the wreckage, the bodies, the flashes of spells, but you weren’t there. His chest tightened.

Barty must have realized it too, because his face paled.

"Where the fuck is she?"

Neither of them hesitated.

They ran.

Running but not fast enough.

Cold stone bit into your knees as you were thrown onto the dungeon floor. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, your body aching from the curses that had already been cast upon you. The Death Eaters loomed above, their masks concealing their faces, but you didn’t need to see them to know who they were.

You could hear Bellatrix’s delighted laughter before you even looked up.

"Oh, this is simply delicious," she cooed, stepping forward, her wand twirling lazily between her fingers. "The Dark Lord’s favorite little pet… a filthy traitor all along."

You swallowed hard, refusing to let her see your fear. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

Bellatrix crouched in front of you, tilting her head as she examined your bruised face. "Where are they?" she asked sweetly.

You blinked, confused.

"Your little lovers." Her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Where are they now, hm? Surely they would’ve come storming in to save you by now, if they cared so much."

You clenched your jaw. "They’ll come," you rasped.

Bellatrix’s laughter echoed through the chamber. "Oh, darling," she purred. "No, they won’t. You’re alone. Just like you always were."

You glared up at her, forcing yourself to meet her wild, dark eyes. "Do whatever you want to me," you spat. "I’m not telling you anything."

Bellatrix let out a delighted gasp. "Oh, I was hoping you’d say that."

And then—

"Crucio."

Pain, unbearable and all-consuming, shot through your body. Your back arched violently as a scream tore from your throat. It felt like fire in your veins, like your bones were breaking from the inside out. Every nerve burned, every muscle spasmed, and the agony was endless.

Bellatrix giggled, letting the curse linger before finally releasing it. "My, my," she mused, watching as you gasped for air. "You’re strong. I like that."

You panted, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Go to hell," you croaked.

Bellatrix feigned offense. "Now, that’s not very nice, is it?" She reached forward, running her fingers along your jaw mockingly. You wanted to recoil, but your body was too weak to move.

"You’re going to tell me everything," she whispered, her voice sickeningly sweet. "How long have you been betraying the Dark Lord? Who else is involved?"

You lifted your head slightly, your lips curling into a bloodied smirk. "You’re not as smart as you think you are," you murmured.

Bellatrix’s face twisted in rage. "Crucio!"

The pain returned, worse than before. Your vision blurred, black spots dancing before your eyes. You knew this could kill you if it went on long enough.

And maybe that would be better.

Maybe it would be easier than giving them the chance to break you.

But you weren’t broken yet.

Not yet.

Meanwhile, Regulus and Barty were losing their minds.

"She was right there!" Barty snapped, his eyes wild with panic and fury. "How the fuck did we let this happen?"

Regulus didn’t answer. His hands were shaking.

They had searched every corner of the battlefield, but you were gone. Vanished. Taken.

"We need to think," Regulus muttered, trying to suppress the sheer terror clawing at his chest. "They wouldn’t kill her immediately. They’d want information first."

Barty ran a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "They’ll torture her," he whispered.

Regulus swallowed hard. "I know."

Barty turned on him, grabbing his collar. "She’s not like us, Reg," he hissed. "She’s strong, but she’s not like us. We grew up with this. She didn’t. They’re going to break her."

Regulus stared at him, eyes dark and unreadable. "No, they won’t."

Barty let go of him, pacing. "We have to find her. We have to—"

"We will," Regulus interrupted. His voice was eerily calm, but Barty could see the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. "We’re getting her back."

Barty met his eyes.

"Whatever it takes," Regulus added.

Barty nodded. "Whatever it takes."

Saving each other.

Your body was barely holding on. Your wrists ached from where they had been bound, your head was spinning from the sheer pain coursing through every inch of your body, and you could feel the warmth of blood dripping from your temple, your lip, your ribs. Everything hurt.

And then, suddenly, you heard them.

A scuffle, the sound of struggling, and then—

"Barty—Regulus—?" Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

They were here.

But it didn’t matter.

Because they had been captured too.

Your heart twisted violently as you watched them being dragged into the room, their wands ripped from their hands, their arms forced behind their backs as Death Eaters shoved them to their knees.

"Ah, now this is a sight," Bellatrix mused, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "The Dark Lord’s three little favorites, reduced to this. Isn’t it just tragic?"

Regulus’ eyes snapped to you, and the second he saw the state you were in, something in him shifted. His normally cold, unreadable expression cracked—just for a second. Just long enough for you to see the sheer, unfiltered rage and fear burning beneath the surface.

Barty, on the other hand, was already losing it. "You fucking bitch!" he roared, trying to lunge at Bellatrix, but the Death Eater behind him yanked him back harshly. "I swear to Merlin, I will rip you apart with my bare hands—"

Bellatrix only laughed, delighted by his fury. "Oh, how precious," she cooed. "Look at him, so protective of his little pet."

She turned back to you, crouching down so she was at eye level. "I wonder," she mused, dragging her wand along your bruised cheek. "Would you be more willing to talk now that your lovers are here? Or should I make them watch a little longer?"

You spat at her.

Bellatrix’s smile disappeared.

And then she backhanded you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side, a fresh burst of pain blooming across your cheekbone.

"You fucking touch her again, and I’ll kill you!" Barty snarled, his voice raw, desperate. He was thrashing against his restraints now, barely being held back by the Death Eaters pinning him down.

Regulus’ voice was quieter, but no less deadly. "You’ll regret this," he said, his tone eerily even. "Every single one of you."

Bellatrix chuckled. "Oh, will I? And what exactly are you going to do, little Black? You don’t even have your wand."

Regulus didn’t respond. He only stared at her, his silver eyes glinting with something cold.

Bellatrix smirked. "Well, in that case, let’s continue, shall we?"

And then—

"Crucio."

Your screams tore through the chamber once again.

Barty’s entire body tensed like he had been physically struck, his breathing erratic. "Stop—STOP!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "PLEASE!"

Regulus wasn’t speaking. He was staring at you, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful, his entire body trembling with restrained fury.

Bellatrix lifted the curse, smiling. "Oh, did that upset you, boys?" she taunted. "Are you feeling… helpless?"

Barty was panting, his entire body shaking. "I swear to fucking Merlin," he rasped, "I will kill you. I will fucking kill you, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix only laughed again, twirling her wand between her fingers. "Now, now, that’s not a very nice way to talk to a lovely woman like me, is it?"

She turned back to you, running her wand along your collarbone. "Now, love," she purred, "are you ready to talk?"

You lifted your head slowly, meeting her gaze despite the agony radiating through your body. And then, through cracked lips and bloodied teeth, you smiled.

"Go to hell."

Bellatrix sighed dramatically. "Wrong answer."

And then the pain came again.

This time, you heard Barty scream your name.

And then—

Then you heard Regulus.

Not screaming.

Not begging.

His voice was calm. Cold.

"Let us go," he said simply.

Bellatrix looked at him in amusement. "Oh? And why would I do that?"

Regulus didn’t blink. "Because if you don’t," he said, "you’re going to wish you had killed me when you had the chance."

There was something terrifying in the way he said it.

Something that made even Bellatrix pause for half a second.

But then she smirked. "Oh, I do love empty threats."

She turned her wand back on you.

And this time, when the pain came, it didn’t stop.

Bellatrix finally lifted the curse, and your body collapsed onto the cold, stone floor, chest heaving, every nerve still screaming from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. Sweat and blood mixed on your skin, your limbs trembling violently, but you didn’t let out another sound. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Regulus and Barty had gone deathly silent.

The second the curse lifted, Regulus’ expression hardened into something terrifying—something unshakable. His silver eyes burned with pure hatred, and yet, his face remained eerily calm, like a frozen lake hiding something deadly beneath the surface.

Barty, on the other hand, was still breathing heavily, his body straining against the Death Eaters holding him back. His entire face was flushed with rage, his eyes wild. He was ready to kill.

Bellatrix tilted her head, examining you with an almost lazy curiosity. "My, my," she mused. "Still so stubborn, aren’t you?" She crouched beside you again, running her wand along the side of your face as if she were admiring a piece of art. "I must admit, I’m impressed. Not many last this long without breaking."

Your breath was shaky, but you still managed to glare at her, your lip curling despite the pain. "You talk too much," you rasped.

Bellatrix let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, I do like you," she said, almost fondly. Then, she glanced over her shoulder at the two boys. "What about you, dear cousin?" she purred, locking eyes with Regulus. "Is it painful? Watching your little girlfriend suffer?"

Regulus didn’t react. His face remained a perfect mask of indifference. "You’re pathetic," he said quietly.

Bellatrix’s smirk twitched.

"Really, Bella?" he continued, voice smooth as silk, laced with venom. "Using me against her? That’s the best you can do?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You think I care about you?" Regulus scoffed, tilting his head. "You think I’ve ever cared about any of you?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping lower. "You are nothing to me."

Something flickered in Bellatrix’s expression.

"Aw, is the little Black boy finally growing a spine?" she cooed, but there was a slight edge to her voice now. "Careful, Regulus. That sounds a lot like treason."

Regulus smirked. "So kill me."

Bellatrix’s jaw clenched.

And then, before she could say another word—

"You fucking touch him, and I will burn this entire place to the ground," Barty growled.

Bellatrix turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that, Crouch? Without your wand?"

Barty’s eyes were wild with fury. "I don’t need a wand to rip you apart."

Bellatrix let out a breathy chuckle, clearly amused, and turned fully toward him, slowly walking closer. "You’re quite the feral little thing, aren’t you?" she mused, circling him like a predator. "It’s a wonder the Dark Lord keeps you around."

Barty bared his teeth. "He keeps me around because I’m useful," he sneered. "Unlike you."

Bellatrix’s expression darkened.

In an instant, she lashed out, backhanding Barty across the face. His head snapped to the side, a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Regulus’ entire body tensed.

You could barely lift your head, but when you saw the way Barty slowly turned back to face her, his eyes burning with something dark, something terrifying—you knew she had made a mistake.

Barty licked the blood off his lip and smiled. "You hit like a fucking coward," he muttered.

Bellatrix’s grip on her wand tightened.

"Enough," a voice commanded.

One of the older Death Eaters stepped forward, his voice heavy with authority. "The Dark Lord wants them alive. We still need answers." He turned to Bellatrix. "Torturing the girl further might kill her. And we need her conscious."

Bellatrix sighed dramatically, but she stepped back, twirling her wand between her fingers. "Fine," she drawled. "Then let’s see if the boys are more willing to talk."

Two Death Eaters grabbed Regulus, dragging him forward.

"Get your fucking hands off him!" Barty snarled, but another fist slammed into his stomach, making him double over, coughing violently.

Regulus didn’t resist. He didn’t fight.

He just looked at you.

And in that single glance, you knew—he wasn’t afraid.

Bellatrix leaned down in front of him, gripping his chin tightly, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Tell me, cousin," she purred. "Do you know what she’s been up to?"

Regulus didn’t even blink. "No."

Bellatrix smiled. "Liar."

She nodded at one of the men. A fist slammed into Regulus’ ribs, but he didn’t even flinch.

Bellatrix clicked her tongue. "You always were the quieter one," she mused. "The good boy. Mother’s favorite." She leaned in closer. "Tell me, Regulus, does it kill you to know that Sirius abandoned you?"

Regulus’ face remained unreadable. "You don’t know anything about me."

Bellatrix chuckled. "Oh, but I do," she whispered. "I know that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you’re still the scared little boy who always did what he was told." She smiled sweetly. "You never had a choice, did you?"

Regulus’ fingers twitched, as if itching for a wand he no longer had.

"Tell me the truth," Bellatrix murmured. "And I’ll let her go."

Regulus finally spoke. "Go fuck yourself."

Bellatrix’s smirk faltered.

Another punch.

Another.

Regulus took each one in silence, his jaw locked, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Then it was Barty’s turn.

"Last chance, Crouch," one of the Death Eaters sneered. "Tell us what you know."

Barty spat blood onto the floor, grinning through crimson-stained teeth. "Kiss my ass."

A boot slammed into his stomach.

Then another.

And still, neither of them spoke.

Neither of them broke.

You tried to move, tried to reach for them, but your body wouldn’t obey.

You could only watch.

And pray that this wouldn’t be the end.

—— ☄️ ——

A note from the author:

Hello beautiful people!

I was NOT expecting for this to have two parts.

I had to stop writing because somehow Tumblr has a limit? I didn't even know about it.

So here's part two.

This story was a challenge for me to write, but i hope you all liked it as much as i did.

See you soon!

[wispedvellichor]

WHAT IF WE AS A SOCIETY HAVE MADE A MUSICAL VERSION OF CROWLEYS FINAL FIFTEEN MONOLOGUE

And what if..... it already exists?

And what if it is

Okay, hear me out. Hear me out.

We know that one of the most important distinctions between Crowley's confession and other confessions is that here, the angst is not

"Do you love me?"

They know they love each other. Have known for AGES.

Instead, the true question was

"Do you love me enough to commit to me? To choose me? Over heaven?"

And uh.... well

Yeah.

"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules and so do I"

Azi is NOT a stranger to love. He knows all about the rules and etiquettes and the Jane Austen balls. Way better than Crowley, may I add.

Crowley wants full commitment. He wants to get away, just.... be an us.

And Azi's never getting this from any other guy. They're a team, a group a group of the two of them. Crowley is the only one who understands, and is immortal enough to fully commit anyways.

That was him, the entire monologue. He realised that he could not keep his feelings secret anymore. He just needed Azi to understand.

"I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

This part is obvious.

Crowley would never hurt azi.

He'd never desert him. *Cue Crowley going back to Azi the moment Beelzebub threatened him with the Book of Life*

He'd never say goodbye. Not really. He'd try but he never could leave his angel behind, could he?

And hes never hurt Azi. He braved hellfire for him. And he would do it again.

"We've known each other a long time. We've been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me."

But you're too shy to say it?

"And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."

Inside, we both know what's going on

They do know what's going on. It's obvious. They love each other, there was no question about it.

"I mean, the last few years, not really."

They know the game. They've been playing it for eternity, a hide and seek of sorts. Letting their true emotions slip through, just for a second. Then pulling the armour back up.

"Listen. Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything."

"That's the point. No nightingales."

@apollos-dodgeball-target @the-cat-demon @weirdly-specific-but-ok tagging yall cuz you need to see this <3

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[lovelyjj]

bsf!jj hooking up with reader at a party, and reader assumed it was a one time thing, but he thought it meant something more cause he's been pining forever

party hook up

bsf!jj maybank x fem!reader

wc: 1,388

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), 18+

It was a rare occasion that you and the other pogues would show up at a kook party. Sarah suggested it because she knew the person throwing it so she thought it would be fun. The kook’s house was massive, equipped with a pool and everything.

The party was loud and exciting. You were in the center dancing your heart out with your friends. Unbeknownst to you JJ was watching you with hearts in his eyes. JJ was your best friend. You did everything together. You don’t know what you would do without him. He was loyal and kind, the perfect partner in crime.

All of a sudden you were wondering where JJ was. When you finally spotted him you danced your way over to him. “Hey where have you been?” JJ asked.

“Oh you know been dancing with Kiara.”

“Right.”

“But I came over to see you,” you smiled.

“You look nice,” JJ complemented.

“Thank you, a group of us is gonna play never have I ever, if you want to join.”

“Oh um sure, yeah.”

The two of you went to the group of people playing the game. You all sat in a circle and did your best to hear each other over the music. “I’ll start,” Kiara suggested.

“Never have I ever gotten black out drunk.”

A few people put their fingers down and the game went on for a couple rounds. Then it got to be your turn.

“Ok let’s see um never have I ever gone skinny dipping.”

Then it was JJ turn. He took a minute to think of what to say then he grinned. “Never have I ever eaten an edible that I thought was a regular brownie.”

“No fair,” you called out shamefully putting a finger down.

The game went on for a couple more rounds. Then eventually everyone got bored. The winner was some random kook girl you didn’t know. Before you know it you were back dancing with your friends.

JJ came up to you and he was looking at you with lust in his eyes. You threw your arms around his neck and started swaying your hips. JJ put his hands on your waist and started dancing with you.

JJ was getting dangerously close and it made you feel some type of way. “I really want to kiss you right now,” JJ confessed.

“What’s stopping you?”

Now JJ really wanted to kiss you but he was scared that doing this might mess up your friendship. But he decided to fuck it. JJ placed his lips on yours in a heated kiss. The kiss was everything JJ wanted and more. But JJ wanted more.

“I want you,” you whispered over his mouth.

JJ felt his heart stop and his stomach flip. He couldn’t believe his ears. He felt like he could die a happy man. “Let’s go upstairs,” JJ took your hand and led you upstairs.

The two of you made it to a quiet private bedroom where JJ locked the door. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” JJ expressed.

“I want to.”

JJ started kissing you again and he backed you up against the door. It felt like a dream come true to JJ. JJ kissed you with passion. Your lips were crushing together and your tongues were exploring each others mouth.

“Let’s get these clothes off,” JJ huskily spoke.

“Can I take this off?” JJ tugged at your shirt.

“Please.”

JJ lifted up your shirt and tossed it on the ground. JJ ogled your chest. JJ reached behind you and unhooked your bra and you let it fall to the floor. “You’re breathtaking,” JJ mused.

JJ guided you over to the bed and laid you down. He placed kissed on your neck and left dark purple marks as he went. He then moved over to your chest which cause you to bite back a moan.

JJ took one nipple in his mouth and massaged the other breast with his calloused hand. He then gave his attention to the other breast and sucked on it. Your fingers were in JJ’s hair pulling at his strands slightly.

JJ had to pause for a second because he could not believe this was happening. His beautiful perfect best friend under him topless, it was almost too much his heart could take. He have dreamed of this many times and he even fisted his cock to the thought of you before.

He never thought he might actually have a chance. His heart was racing and he was trying to treasure every second of this. JJ was on cloud nine and he was gonna enjoy this. He kissed down your stomach and stopped at the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?” JJ asked referring to taking off your shorts. “Yes.” JJ slid down your shorts in one swift motion and tossed them on the floor somewhere.

“JJ I need you,” you begged.

“What do you need? Tell me what you want sweet girl.”

“Your mouth please.”

JJ hooked his finger in the waistband of your panties and slid them off you. He was met with your glistening cunt. He felt like he was in heaven. JJ wasted no time and licked a stripe through your folds.

JJ used his tongue skillfully. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your dripping hole, tongue fucking you. You felt euphoric and you let out a loud moan. “That’s it baby, I wanna hear you,” JJ exclaimed. He then sucked on you clit. His teeth grazed the bundle of nerves and you cried out.

You felt the pressure began to form in your belly. You were getting close and you were getting ready to come. “I’m close,” you panted.

“No you’re gonna come on my cock,” JJ ordered.

JJ quickly stripped off all his clothes. You were practically drooling. JJ lined up his cock at your entrance and said, “you ready for me baby?”

“Yes,” you shuttered.

JJ inserted himself and you hissed at the stretch. He gave you a minute to adjust and then asked,” Can I move?”

“Please.”

JJ pulled all the way out just to slam back into you. You were so wet and tight, JJ was lost in pleasure. It was everything he dreamed of and more. JJ was big and you felt that familiar pressure build in your stomach. JJ held your hand near your head.

JJ kept thrusting in and out. Both of you moaning like it was the most amazing feeling you’ve ever felt. You were trying to savor this feeling because you figured this was just a one time thing. A momentary slip up.

“God, you feel so fucking good. I’m not gonna last,” JJ rasped.

You let out a loud moan as he hit a certain part deep inside you that had you seeing stars. “Fuck J, keep going don’t stop!” you whined.

JJ could tell you were getting close with the way your walls were squeezing him. This was the best sex he’s ever had and he didn’t want it to end. However he didn’t know if he could hold on much longer.

“Hold on baby, wait just a second longer,” JJ instructed.

JJ kept snapping his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You felt JJ’s cock twitch inside you and you knew he couldn’t hold it much longer.

“Let go for me, I’m right there with you, gonna cum inside this sweet pussy” JJ panted.

Your orgasm washed over you and you felt like fireworks were going off all over your body. JJ stilled inside you and released his cum inside you. Then he fucked you through both your orgasms.

“That was perfect, I love you so much.” JJ confessed.

“What?” you froze completely and utterly shocked. You thought this was a one time thing.

“I love you.”

“JJ don’t play with me right now.”

“I’m not, I’m telling you the truth,” JJ told you.

“You’re not scared about what would happen to our friendship if we loose feelings.”

“I mean you can’t control everything in life, sometimes you have to take the risk.”

You let out a sigh of course you loved him. He was your everything. You don’t know what you’d do without him. Your heart was happy. “I love you too.”

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

ME AND YOU FOREVER

Pairing.| Darren (Pig) x fem!reader (Runt)

Summary.| Right as you’re about to leave to start your new beginning, Pig has come to reunite with his Runt.

Warnings.| Dubcon, dry humping, head both receiving, 69, manipulation, planned breeding, you’re both 18.

Word count.| 1.3k

It should have been no surprise that he’d appear on your doorstep, even though you told him it was better if he didn’t. Your parents never liked his influence on you, it threatened your education immensely. 

The typical answers if you were to ask someone to describe Darren would be unhinged, unpredictable, impulsive. Darren was a ticking time bomb, but in his mind he was a devoted angel, willing to do anything for you, there was no distance he wouldn’t walk, clearly. 

When you were almost seventeen, your parents enrolled you to a private girls school to force your growth. It was heartbreaking to leave your hometime Cork, more importantly Darren – Pig. 

To say that Darren -your best friend at the time- didn’t take it well was an understatement. Immediately, he demanded that the two of you ran away together, the world was yours for the taking, nothing would get in between your bond. For you were born on the same day, more coincidentally in the same hospital, you were one soul shared between two bodies. Ignorantly and naively, you always turned a blind eye to his true feelings for you. Darren was completely infatuated by you, smitten by your beauty and charm. But you just played along with the King and Queen games, always mindfully keeping him at a foot distance away from devouring you. 

But the day you were moving, set your relationship adrift. Darren tried to force you into staying with him, as if you could do so, he already had it all planned out, you’d move in with him and be happy together. When you dismissed the idea, Darren confessed his undying love for you and forcefully kissed you. Panickly, you shut down his advances, managed to convince him how bad of an idea this all was and he broke down at your feet. As he begged you to stay with him, you held him for hours until he regretfully let you go. 

When you moved to Dublin, he’d still run away and beg you to catch the next train. You always found a reason to convince him to go back home alone. Typically your emails became less frequent over time, the delayed times angered Darren. He’d send repetitive ones demanding that you’d reply. You changed your email address shortly after he sent upsetting, threatening messages. Surprisingly he never came to see you again. 

Now, two years later, you were preparing yourself for college. You had gotten into a campus on the outskirts of London, you were excited for the change. Your parents were out, you were home alone as you hummed a melody. There was a loud, long knock at the door. 

“Runt” Darren smiled widely, immediately taking you in for a bear gripping hug. 

“Darren” you wheezed, frozen in shock, confusion and fear. Even though Darren was always thin, his strength was large.

“I missed you, missed you so fookin’ much” Darren mumbled into your hair as he inhaled the sweet scent that he craved so dearly. 

It was shocking to see how badly your soul had seemed to miss Darren, even though you had thought that you’d gotten over him. However, this was terrifying, how did he manage to track you down, your family had only recently moved in. But Darren seemed to be so unfazed by everything you were asking him, he’d just hum and squeeze you a little tighter. 

“Been thinking of yah everyday, y’know?” Darren smiled, rubbing your shoulders gently. 

“Been thinking about you too Darren!” you squeaked out. But his head pulled back, he looked you in the eye and glared at you. 

“What is that bullshite! It’s Pig!” Darren hissed. 

“Sorry Pig!” you piped out, your body trembled lightly underneath his hold. 

“That ok… Fook, eh, uh, me need to feel yah” Darren shuddered out. 

As his body turned stiff, he slowly ran his firm hands up and down your body, his breathing went rough and low as he felt your curves that had seemed to grow throughout your time apart. When his hands neared your ass, you felt his bulge poke against your front, you gulped and batted your lashes up to him. 

“Pig?” you whispered, frozen physically and mentality. 

“Me body so desperate for yah, missed yah so fookin’ much” Darren huffed up, his eyes swelled, licking his lips at the dirty ideas that were streaming behind his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you choked out, your body trembling in fear at his act. 

At first, the humps were light, but then his thrusts turned thicker as he grinded himself against your leg, almost like a stray dog. Darren kissed you softly on the cheek, then his kisses expanded around until he kissed your lips, your lips reminded still, however he didn’t seem to care. 

“Me cock is aching for yah…” Darren confessed through a grunt. 

“Pig!” you shrieked as his hands pawed at your rear. 

You were silenced by Darren harshly pressing his lips against yours, his tongue darted into your mouth, your tongues battled for dominance. But Darren was able to force his tongue down your throat, you grumbled into his mouth as he kept your body close to his. His hands were tugging at your clothing, hips grinding against yours as his tongue pressed against every moist inch inside of your mouth. When he finally pulled away, you were left panting for air, Darren smiled innocently at you, whilst he rubbed his hard on. 

“Need to taste yah too… so fookin’ hungry, I didn’t eat all day!” Darren explained through a rushed tone as he pushed you onto the couch. 

You shuddered out as he abruptly yanked down your shorts, he crawled on top of you, his body flipped opposite so his head was by your thighs and his crotch hovered over your face. Darren inhaled your scent, his fingers trembled over your bare cunt initially, he licked his lips. 

“Darren!” you gasped out as his tongue dragged across your entrance. 

“Taste so fookin good babe!” Darren praised before he eagerly attached his mouth back to your cunt. 

He ate you as if you were an ice cream cone on a hot summer's day, his tongue swished around in every direction. Those roughly trimmed fingernails of his dug into your thighs. Impulsively, his hips pressed against your face, you cringed underneath him and begged him to get off but he ignored your desperate pleas. 

“Can you take me into yah mouth babe?” Darren panted, his face poked out from between his arm and chest. 

He took your whimpers as a yes and quickly freed his throbbing length. You mewled, your mouth closed shut as he pressed his tip against you. Darren huffed, momentarily he believed if he kept on poking your lips with his dick you’d suddenly open up. Resulting in another solution, he pressed a finger inside of you and you squealed out. 

As his cock quickly slipped into your widening hole, you moaned around his size. It wasn’t necessarily long, but the man had girth. Darren grumbled out and moved you both onto your sides, his hips bucked, your thighs locked his head in. Whilst his tongue willingly darted in and out of you, you grumbled, choked and gagged around him. 

All he could think about was filling your sweet pussy with his babba. A small one would force you to stay with him. He’d get a job to take care of your little family, you’d stay home and look after the first of many babbas. 

“Fuck babe… So fookin’ good” Darren whined out. 

Suddenly, Darren’s eyes rolled back, his hips locked in and his member bursted inside of you. Darren whined out pathetically, he bit onto your inner thigh as his legs trembled, your mewls added extra vibrations for his sensitive member. 

“Missed yah so fookin bad!” Darren hissed out, his eyes squeezed shut. “Pig and Runt forever, reunited at last! Never gonna see another day wit-out you! Mine! My babe, my queen, my Runt!” Darren cheered. 

As his cock slipped out of your mouth, you heaved out, too afraid to say anything back to him.

[sungchanarcade]

anton as your bff

i’m probably going to make this a series and do one for each of the members, i’m just such a sucker for friends2lovers :( 

for you two, hanging out is never just that, it always turns into a whole quest. when the weather is nice you guys would decide go to a park for the afternoon before stopping for snacks on the way home to have a movie night but inevitably, one of you always goes “wait i have a really good idea!” and boom suddenly its 2 a.m and you’re on the other side of the city

your plans when you spend time together would be so spontaneous that you’ve stopped planning entirely. neither of you know what you’re going to end up doing with your day together, you just let things unfold and try to avert disaster when necessary (it’s always necessary)

holds your hand/has his arm around you every time you’re on any public transit and he never lets go of you in a crowd, no matter how many or few people are in it. 

also holds your hand when crossing the street, which you teased him about once (“i’m not 5 years old i’m not gonna run away”) and he was all sulky about it (“fine. get hit by a car then”) but every time you two get to a crosswalk (or are about to jaywalk oops) you both grab for each other’s hand naturally

sharing clothes but not realizing until the “oh so that’s where my scarf went” (anton probably has more of your jewelry than you do)

he would carry your bag whenever you’re tired but you wouldn’t have to ask him to, he can tell when you need the break and just wordlessly lift it off your shoulder and put it on his own

despite all your wild adventures, he would love the chill days you have together. staying in to play video games, cooking a meal together, movie marathons, you name it, he just likes having you around

he would always show you the music he’s working on, even stuff that isn’t finished. your feedback and praise means more to him than anything else

while i think he wouldn’t be the best at keeping secrets and he hates hiding things from you, you still wouldn’t realize he has feelings for you and he is doing everything he can to make sure it stays that way because you’ve been friends long enough that he can’t even imagine what his life would be like if you weren’t in it

everyone else definitely knows though

all his other friends have been trying to get him to confess to you for the longest time but no matter how much they nag him about it he isn’t any closer to actually doing it

you would have to confess first i fear

i feel the confession would be as spontaneous you two are, you wouldn’t plan to tell him ahead of time. it would be late after spending the day running around town together and you’d be sitting next to him on some random park bench looking out at the city and he’d offer you the last few bites of his ice cream—even though he’d bought it for himself and you already stole some—and you’d just say it without really meaning to.

“do you want any more?” he asks, tilting the pint container in your direction until you can see it’s almost empty. as if he’s reading your mind, he says “you can have the rest, it’s ok.” he’d bought the ice cream for himself when you’d stopped at a convenience store on the way up here and you’d already stolen more than a few bites, yet here he was, offering you the last of it. he lifts the spoon toward you. “do you want the rest?” he asks, voice soft, gaze softer, and you feel so warm and safe in it. instead of answering his question, you sigh and say, “this is the kind of shit that made me fall in love with you.”

and you’d be so casual about it that he wouldn’t fully register what you said at first and be snarky as ever with his reply (“oh i’m so sorry for being nice to you”) but as soon as he’s said it he realizes exactly what you said and then his brain kind of short circuits

the rest of the confession is mostly you talking and him stuttering and tripping over his words. you definitely have to finish half his sentences for him because he’ll just trail off in the middle. his face is SO red and he would not stop blushing for the entire conversation. when you two get back to his place at the end of the night his cheeks are still red

he’d start smiling (mostly to himself) about how lucky he got every. single. time. he looks at you for at least 3 weeks after