#you think link makes stuff sound dirty?

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[nahoney22]

Omg congrats on so many followers! That's so amazing and so well deserved! Might I request Echo and Female reader and the sort of prompt is kissing as a disguise? (It can absolutely get a bit spicy too fyi :0) Oh also can reader just be someone who has been with the batch long enough to be familiar with them and such? Thank you!!! x <3

Kiss Me Quick*** 🌊

🫧 pairing: Echo X Female!Reader

word count: 2.7k

prompts: none

When you and Echo pair up to track a missing shipment for Cid, you both didn’t anticipate that it would end with you two finding somewhere to be alone.

warnings: Light NSFW, 17+ only, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating Trope, Steamy Kisses, Neck Kisses and Bites, Touchy-feely, Minor Alcohol Consumption, Reader Wearing a Dress.

a/n: sorry for the wait @mezmatch, enjoy 🫧

“What does she want now?” you muttered, a familiar mix of irritation and reluctance bubbling up.

All you wanted was a rare day of relaxation, but fate, also known as Cid, had other plans.

“Probably to do her dirty work for very little credit,” Echo sighed, shaking his head in agreement.

After taking a moment to mentally prepare, you stepped into Cid’s cluttered office. The Trandoshan greeted you with her usual disdain, referring to you as ‘grumps’ and Echo as ‘killjoy’.

When you asked for details, she waved you off dismissively and activated the console in the center of her office. A large hologram of a notorious crime lord flickered to life. Cid began outlining the mission: gathering information on a shipment of weapons for a mysterious client. But you sensed there was more to it than she was letting on. There always was.

“This is a two-person job, and you two are the perfect candidates,” Cid announced, moving around her desk to take a seat. Her large claws tapped rhythmically across the surface. “And you two lovebirds get to dress up.”

“Could you not get—wait, what? Lovebirds?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Echo, who looked equally confused, albeit slightly more flustered.

Cid smirked, looking between the two of you. “Omega said you two were a thing.”

“No, we are not a ‘thing,’” Echo said, using air quotes and shaking his head. “But more to the point, what do you mean by dress up?”

“Don’t worry,” Cid said, her smirk widening. “Bolo and Ketch are on it.”

You folded your arms and stared down at Cid. “I don’t think taking fashion advice from those two is a great idea.”

Cid shrugged casually, waving you both off. “Don’t worry about it. Now, get out.”

Relieved, you left the office with the door hissing shut behind you. “Well, this could be interesting,” you sighed.

Echo agreed with a small mumble, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, why do you think Omega said that about us?”

“You know what she’s like,” you chuckled, not thinking too much into it. “She sees Hunter speaking to literally anyone and asks me if I think Hunter fancies them. She’s trying to play matchmaker.”

“Fair point,” Echo chuckled, but your conversation was soon interrupted by the sound of bickering. Bolo and Ketch entered the parlor, making a beeline straight to you both.

What had Cid gotten you into now?

That evening, the Marauder settled into hyperspace as you and Echo dressed in the outfits Cid’s regulars had picked out for you. Surprisingly, they hadn’t done too bad.

You slipped into a sleek, form-fitting dress in deep sapphire blue, which shimmered with your every movement. It was a far cry from your usual battle-worn attire, but you felt unexpectedly good in it.

Entering the cockpit, smoothing out the dress, you spotted Echo struggling with his cufflinks. “Can I help you with that?” you offered.

Echo was seated at the controls, and as he looked up, he did a double-take. None of the boys had ever seen you dressed so glamorously before. For a second, he thought you were a completely different person. His fingers stumbled, dropping the links as he tsked at himself in embarrassment. “Getting dressed in this kind of stuff is hard when you only have one hand,” he admitted, bending down to pick them up.

You moved closer, gently reaching out to help. “Here, let me.”

As you fixed the links to his cuffs, you also adjusted his slightly askew collar. Echo took a moment to truly look at you, noticing how stunning you looked. Though he had always found you beautiful, tonight you looked especially radiant. He didn’t say anything, but the soft smile on his face spoke volumes.

“There,” you said, stepping back. “All set.”

“Thanks,” Echo replied, his voice a little softer than usual. “You look…”

Gorgeous.

Pretty.

Beautiful.

“…really nice.”

He inwardly cringed at himself but saw your eyes shine at his compliment, which was clearly enough for you. And surprisingly, enough for him too.

You smiled, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Sir,”

As you arrived, the grandeur of the event immediately struck you. Shimmering chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a glittering glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. The room buzzed with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, opulent decorations reflecting the wealth and status of the attendees.

Despite feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the luxurious surroundings. However, the mission was clear: infiltrate the event, locate the stolen shipment of weapons, and report back to Cid.

Moving through the crowd, you exchanged pleasantries with other guests, trying to get a sense of the situation. Your eyes continuously scanned for any sign of the crime lord or his associates, whose images Cid had ingrained in your minds. Despite the lavish setting, your nerves were on edge. You felt grateful to be teamed up with Echo; his presence gave you a sense of calm in case things went awry.

“I’m going to head right to see if I can catch a lead. Are you okay with going to the left?” Echo asked, his voice steady.

You smiled in agreement at his plan. He gave you a reassuring nod before you split up to cover more ground. You gravitated toward the bar and ordered a cocktail to blend in. The bartender handed you a drink that was a mesmerizing swirl of deep blue and violet, almost matching your dress. It had hints of citrus and a subtle sweetness that lingered on the tongue. You sipped it slowly, your eyes and ears open to any useful information.

As you listened to the murmurs around you, a light tap on your shoulder made you turn. Standing before you was the crime lord himself, tall and imposing in a sharp suit, exuding an aura of controlled menace. He offered a charming, if slightly unsettling, smile.

“Enjoying the evening?” he asked, his tone smooth and courteous.

You maintained your composure, smiling back. “It’s quite the event. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He leaned on the bar, his eyes gleaming with interest. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. It’s rare to see such beauty in these parts.”

From across the room, Echo’s gaze snapped to the scene. His posture tensed as he watched the exchange, a mix of concern and an unrecognizable pang twisting in his gut as he saw you speaking with the man. Without hesitation, he made his way over, weaving through the crowd.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me,” you said, forcing a smile as you twirled the straw in your drink.

“And if I was?” he countered, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Or are you spoken for?”

Before you could answer, another familiar voice spoke up beside you. “Is everything alright over here?”

Relief washed over you as you saw Echo. When he reached you, you took a bold step, leaning into him, looping your arm through his, and resting your head against his shoulder. “This is my better half,” you said with a sweet smile, hoping the ruse would deter the crime lord from his advances.

Echo, catching on quickly, wrapped his arm around your waist, playing along. “Good evening,” he greeted, his voice steady.

The crime lord’s eyes flickered between you both, a calculating look crossing his face before he let out a chuckle. “A lucky man, indeed,” he said.

“I am,” Echo started, shifting his position before looking across at you. “Has my love asked you about our proposal?”

You stayed silent, allowing Echo to take the reins. Although you should have been paying attention, you couldn’t help but gaze at Echo, watching his lips move but not processing his words. His fingers gently caressed your waist, providing comfort and security. Had he always been so... alluring?

You felt breathless and almost flinched when Echo’s gaze suddenly locked onto you.

“W-What?” you stammered.

Echo raised an eyebrow at you, his hand slipping from your waist, leaving you feeling suddenly cold. “Did you hear what he said?” Echo asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

You blinked, overwhelmed, and took a step back as you realised you were in a whole different realm it seemed. You hadn’t even noticed that the crime lord had left. “Sorry, I... I think I blanked out for a moment,” you admitted, frowning.

He watched you curiously and politely took the drink from your hand, placing it on the bar. “Maybe lay off these?” he suggested with a soft chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder. “I only had half of one,” you reiterated, not feeling up to explaining the real reason for your distraction. “Anyway, what intel did you get?”

“He said the shipment is being moved to the docks. I told him we were thinking of getting in on the score.”

You raised an impressed eyebrow. “And he even didn’t question it?”

“Not particularly, no. But it’s best we keep our wits about us,” Echo pointed out, scanning the surroundings before his eyes landed on you again. “We should still ask around or listen for more information, just in case he’s misleading us.”

Agreeing, you and Echo split up once again. But you couldn't lie and say your mind wasn't elsewhere. Echo was definitely boyfriend material for anyone, but you never thought you'd find yourself wanting Echo to be your actual boyfriend. He settled into the role so easily that you wondered if he had done it once before in his 501st days.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a short yet intimidating associate of the crime lord blocked your path, his eyes sharp and scrutinising. “I hear you and your partner are interested in our operation,” he said suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”

“No angle,” you lied smoothly, tilting your head down at him. “It’s just business.”

“Well darling, your business is now my business.” He stepped towards you, but you didn’t back down and held your ground.

A smirk spread across your lips. “I don’t think it is. Besides, it’s your boss I have business with, not his little pup.”

The man’s eyes flared with anger at your words, feeling the sting of your insult. “I don’t trust you, or your little boyfriend. If he even is who you say he is.”

“If I had a credit for every time I didn’t care about your opinion, I wouldn’t have to do this,” you countered, placing your fists on your hips. “Now run along.”

The man muttered something under his breath and stalked off, and you couldn’t help but release the small breath you were holding. If that guy was wary of you and Echo, you were certain the others would catch on too.

You located Echo across the hall and swiftly made your way over to him, gently clutching his arm. “We should get going.”

“What, why?” he asked, looking at you and then scanning the area for any potential dangers. You told him that people were growing suspicious of you both. As you looked around, you saw the associates talking quietly to one another, occasionally glancing at you and Echo.

Your mind fell back to the associate's words, wondering why he would think you and Echo couldn’t possibly be partners. Was there anything you could do to sway their opinion?

Then, an idea clicked—a somewhat smart yet daring move.

You turned back to Echo, watching him as he scanned the environment, his hand resting on your hip. You felt a rush of wild emotions.

Letting go of his arm, your hand moved to his face, cupping his cheek and turning his face back to you softly. You met his eyes, slightly wide and curious but absolutely alluring. Leaning up, your lips landed on his.

You felt his faint gasp against your lips, but he quickly caught on to what you were doing. So, he brought you closer, his eyes fluttering closed.

At first, it started as just a peck, but as you went to pull back, his lips chased yours, not caring who or what saw.

Breaking the kiss eventually, your eyes silently spoke to each other. Without another word, Echo took your hand and led you to a quiet and secure area away from prying eyes. A flush of embarrassment suddenly surfaced, and you expected Echo to say you shouldn’t do that again. But as you turned to face him, ready to apologise, he approached you with steadfast determination and kissed you again.

Surprised, you were backed into a desk, his arm wrapping around you and lifting you onto it with ease. You gasped against his lips, holding onto his shoulders and pulling him closer. The kiss intensified, filled with pent-up emotions of the night and laced desire. His hand roamed your body, his scomp link gently tracing your waist, sending waves of shivers down your spine.

"Echo," you whispered between kisses, your voice low and gentle.

He responded with a soft murmur of your name, his lips leaving yours before trailing down your neck.

Each touch of his lips peppering on your skin made your heart race and your breaths come faster. Was this really happening?

"You’re so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes with a smirk. "And you look sexy dressed this way too."

The compliment sent a thrill through you, your cheeks flushing at his bold compliment. “Echo…” you could only respond again with a soft sigh, his name the only thing on your mind.

Echo's grip tightened around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to let you go. His lips moved back to your neck, and you couldn't help the small moans that escaped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as his warm tongue licked at your exposed skin, followed by a soft nip of his teeth.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he breathed, his voice filled with sincerity and desire. Your eyes close, gasping at the realisation that Echo had had these strong feelings for you and only now is able to truly express them. You wish he had told you earlier.

His scorching kisses made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. The connection between you deepened with each touch, each whispered word. Tongue begging for entrance, you part your lips as soon as his lips touch yours, the passion burning through both of your bodies as your hands move up and down his chest.

“What if someone sees us?” You pant once you break for breath, physically melting as you watch his hand grasp the bottom of your dress, pulling it upwards to expose your legs.

“Then they don’t get to question what you are to me,” he mumbles, drunk in love eyes meeting yours.

His hand started to slip up under your dress, sending a shiver of anticipation through you when suddenly, a sharp beep cut through the haze of your passion.

Echo pulled back, slightly breathless, as his comm went off. Cid's voice crackled through, impatient and nagging. “What’s taking so long? I need details, now. You’re needed back.”

You both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before Echo answered, his voice steady despite the interruption. “We’ll be there soon, Cid. Just wrapping up.”

He ended the call and looked back at you, his gaze softening. “We should get going.”

You nodded, feeling a bit shy after the intensity of the moment being ruined . “Yeah, we should.”

As you smoothed your dress out, you watched as Echo tried to fix his tie, which you had yanked on accidentally during the kiss. Smiling, you stepped closer and helped him adjust it. “There.”

When you were done, you both met each other's gaze again. Echo couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Can we talk about what happened after the mission?” he asked softly, his eyes full of hope.

“Of course,” you replied, your heart fluttering. “I’d like that.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you should thank Omega, and even Cid, for bringing you both together.

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[matryosika]

Never Have I Ever

Pairing — Chan, Changbin x fem!reader Wordcount — 8,913 words Genre — 18+ Includes — Mentions of body insecurities and past romantic relationships. Struggles with sex and sexuality. Consumption of alcohol (but no sex under the influence). Explicit sexual content, smut warnings under the cut. Author's note — It's been a while since I've post something this lengthy... I have to be honest, I started writing this last year (July 2022) but I felt so unsatisfied with it that I never got to post it. I made some corrections, added some more details and now I'm ready to share it with you! Hope you like it. Please remember to leave a comment, reblog or ask if you liked this. And! This is the yearly reminder that I own a ko-fi. If you wish to support my work further, you can leave me a tip there! The link is on my pinned post. Thank you for reading me.

Smut warnings — Use of pet names (baby and princess). Dirty talk, threesome activities, mutual masturbation, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration, first time anal, description of pain and crying during sex. Multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pulling out and facial.

"Never have I ever..." Chan hummed, his right hand swirling the green bottle he had been drinking from for the past minutes, "had sex in a public place".

He looked at you and then at Changbin, his curious gaze wondering how he missed an opportunity to make either of you drink from your alcoholic beverage.

"I haven't had sex in a public place," Changbin mumbled, "but I have done other things".

"You have to drink either way," Chan insisted.

"You said sex," the black-haired complained, "next time try to be more specific".

You sat there in silence with a look of amusement as you witnessed the silly discussion your two best friends were holding.

"There will not be a next time," Chan sighed, leaving his bottle on top of the small coffee table next the shared couch, "at this rate, we are going to be wasted and she will remain sober".

You smiled with victory imprinted on your face, imitating Chan's action and leaving your beverage on top of the table, "we should've betted money on who was the most innocent one among the three of us, I could've ended the night with more bucks than the ones I have on my wallet".

"I can't believe you dated that asshole for 3 years and yet you didn't do anything with him," Changbin murmured with disbelief.

"Do you think I am lying?" You questioned him, tilting your head slightly backwards and resting it on the wall behind.

"I know for a fact you are not," Changbin replied, "that's why I’m impressed".

"Well," you took the bowl of chips that was placed between you and Chan, "sex isn't everything in a relationship."

"You say so because you haven't fucked," Chan scoffed, his characteristic dimples showing as soon as the sound of his laughter escaped his lips.

"We did fuck though".

"You say so because you haven't fucked properly," Changbin corrected his best friend's statement, the choice of words making your skin burn in embarrassment.

"Just because I am not into the kinky stuff you guys like doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the sex with him," you whined, throwing a cushion at Changbin, "plus, why are we making my sexual life a topic of conversation? that's something private".

"It's just amusing," Chan mumbled, taking a sip from the bottle, "you didn't drink from your soju the whole time".

"You guys asked such odd questions," you admitted, "threesomes, sex in public places... how was I supposed to drink when I have no interest in those sorts of things?"

"Alright, alright," Changbin interrupted, both of his arms doing signals for you and chan to be quiet, "we will start small".

You looked at Changbin and then at Chan, unsure of what the twisted game your dark-haired friend was thinking about. Nonetheless, your hand reached out for the bottle of soju and you returned back to your previous position, back against the wall and head tilted slightly backwards.

"Never have I ever given my partner oral sex," Changbin mumbled, both pairs of dark eyes fixed on you as they waited for your final answer.

Placing the tip of the bottle in between your lips, you made sure to drink just a small sip from it. Not being too fond of the taste of alcohol nor the feeling of being drunk, you tried your best to limit your consumption during the evening. Of course, playing this kind of game was rather easy for someone as inexperienced as you were.

"Never have I ever received oral sex," Chan continued the attack, expecting you to hold the bottle again and drink from it.

But, after a few seconds of awkward looks and odd grimaces, he understood that you were not going to take another sip of alcohol.

"Never have I ever tried anal sex," Changbin queried and, again, no response from you. "Well, that one was a bit obvious".

You darted him a killer gaze and he scoffed, looking absolutely unimpressed by your sexual inexperience.

"Never have I ever tried more than 2 different sexual positions with my partner," Chan questioned with a teasing smirk and, for the first time that night, you felt a bit shy at your lack of experience.

It was true that your sexual life wasn't the best, not even with your ex-boyfriend of 3 years, but you wouldn't dare to admit it out loud. For some reason, the thought of having to talk about how much he sucked at those things embarrassed you and, knowing your best friends, they wouldn't be able to forget such a confession.

"No wonder why you broke up with him," Changbin whispered, diverting your attention from Chan's image all the way to his. "Let me guess, missionary and doggy?"

You were not the type to get your cheeks blushed but still, the skin on your face was burning in shame.

"Never have I ever faked an orgasm with my partner," Chan added, capturing your whole attention once again.

You knew Chan and, if you were to take a wild guess, you would say that his countenance changed from amusement to concern. In his face, you could catch a glimpse of almost the same reaction he had when you told him all about your break up and how your boyfriend cheated on you several times before you found out. 

Even though his reaction was rather odd to you, you still took a sip of your bottle, "shit".

"This is way worse than I thought," Changbin sighed, stretching his body and placing both of his hands behind his neck.

"Just one more question and I will let this go," Chan hummed, trying to satisfy his curiosity without making you uncomfortable, "alright?"

You nodded with resignation, "shoot".

"Never have I ever had an orgasm with a partner," and, as soon as you heard those words, you couldn't help but fix your gaze at your shoelaces that were a hundred times more interesting than whatever was going on inside the tiny living room of your apartment.

"Damn," Changbin's harsh voice interrupted, breaking the awkward silence that was starting to fall down upon the three of you, "are you serious?"

"Why would I lie to you about these things?" you asked with a high-pitched voice, your mind bringing back the memories of the few times you got to spend with your ex.

To be completely honest with yourself, you couldn't deny how hideous the sex with him was. It was rushed, fast, boring. He was focused on his pleasure rather than yours, lasting for not more than 5 minutes and calling it a day. "I'm exhausted", "I came so hard", "I'm so sleepy" were just a few of the things he used to mumble right after overcoming his high and, as much as you loved him at the time, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed after each session. He made you feel like an object who was only meant to give him pleasure without receiving any and, for the longest time, you thought it was completely normal.

"You never talked to him about these things?" Changbin questioned you, making your heart sink at the realization that he was just as worried as Chan was about the whole situation.

"It is not a big deal guys," you tried to convince them, even when you knew that it was, in fact, a big deal, "luckily we are not together anymore so I can leave those boring experiences in the past".

"Still," Chan's words felt like he was scolding you, "you went down on him several times and he couldn't even do that for you".

"Yeah, well-" you sighed, standing up from your seat and stretching your whole body, "I will make sure to get a better and trustworthy fuck buddy next time, I have learned my lesson".

Chan and Changbin remained silent as you started to pick up the mess from the living room, gathering the empty bottles of soju and the wrappings of the snacks you had been eating that night.

"Why don't you help me clean up?" you queried, looking down on them while they spared complicit glances at each other, "the living room is a mess and I don't have plans on doing chores tomorrow morning".

"Hey," Changbin hummed, still sitting on the floor with both of his palms against the rug, "we uh-"

The way your dark-haired roommate stumbled upon his words made you curious about what he was going to say next.

"We would like to help you out with your other issue," Chan spitted, bluntly. Still sitting on the couch with his legs spread, he lifted up his gaze to meet yours.

"What other-" you started the sentence with a smile on your face but, as soon as you realized what they meant, the smile and fondness was transformed into nervousness and curiosity, "oh".

"Oh," Changbin repeated almost with the same intonation you did.

"Listen, you don't have to agree to this," Chan rushed to say, standing up from the couch almost as the same time his friend did from the floor, "me and Changbin, we have discussed this for a while now but we just- we never knew how to approach you about it".

You looked at the two men standing in front of you, suddenly feeling your knees and legs ten times weaker than before. For a while, how long is a while?

"When you say a while, what do you mean?" you asked him, slowly placing the empty bottles on top of the table again.

"We both thought you were attractive the first time you moved in with us," Changbin explained, clearing up his throat as he watched you take a seat on the couch again, now they were the ones looking down on you. "Of course, at the time you had a boyfriend and everything, it was never really a plan, just a thought".

"A thought?"

Changbin looked at Chan and then diverted his gaze to something else, trying hard to avoid giving more information than he needed to.

"One night we were just talking about how much we both liked you," Chan spoke slowly, trying to find just the right words to portray their twisted and perverted fantasies with you, "how much we wanted to be with you, like that"..

"And you have decided to tell me that right now because…"

"We just saw an opportunity to bring the topic and we took it," Changbin continued without even daring to make eye-contact with you, "we don't really lose anything by asking".

"A threesome, then?" you queried with your pair of eyes fixed on them. It was new how nervous they looked right then and there in front of you, clenching their jaws and avoiding eye contact at all costs.

Both of them nodded.

"I... will think about it," you concluded shyly, expecting them to say something else rather than nodding and continuing on picking up the trash that you had placed on top of the table after hearing such revelation.

Other than agreeing and whispering a series of "okay, yeah's", your roommates didn't say anything else. The tension in the environment changed but, at the same time, it didn't feel awkward or overwhelming. If you had to describe it, you would dare to say it was almost pensive.

"You have work tomorrow?" Chan asked, interrupting the silence that was quick to build up after your last words.

"No, I am taking this weekend off," you replied, carrying the green bottles all the way to your kitchen counter.

"I'll get those," Changbin mumbled, picking up the bottles that you had left behind because you could only carry that much.

You didn't want to give them the wrong impression, one where you felt awkwardly uncomfortable at their proposal to the point of not wanting to interact with them in any way, but it was almost impossible to talk when your mind was filled with thoughts.

"Everything alright?" Changbin queried, closing the trash bag and leaving it on the floor right next to the trash can.

"Yeah I just- I'm feeling very tired," you replied, blinking several times before fixing your gaze on him, "it has been a while since I drank".

Liar.

You drank less than half a bottle of soju and all three people in that room knew that. 

"You should go to sleep, " the black-haired murmured, not daring to look at you. "We will clean the rest of the living room and continue on working for a bit before going to bed, it's still early".

You unlocked your phone, without having any notion of time, and realized that he was right. You thought it was already midnight but the clock was barely at 10 p.m.

"Thanks," you politely replied, brushing your hands against your denim jeans and standing there for a while before excusing yourself, "goodnight".

As you walked from the kitchen and back to the living room, Changbin's gaze burned on your skin like a fresh cut. He wasn't nervous or uncomfortable, no. He was probably regretful, thinking that the two of them had screwed up an adorable friendship with their best friend just for the sake of wanting to get their dicks wet.

"Goodnight Chan," you mumbled while walking across the living room, Chan's eyes lifting up to meet yours without hesitation.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat and turning his whole body around to face you, "me and Changbin, we wouldn't want things to get awkward".

"Me neither," you faintly smiled, trying to give him the reassurance he needed in order to understand that you weren't uncomfortable nor scared after their proposal. "I'm alright, don't worry too much about it".

And after he offered you a smile back, you closed your bedroom door right behind you.

Saying you were alright was a lie, especially when your whole body stopped being numb and regained its consciousness. The wetness between your thighs betrayed you once again, just like every other time you were around those two.

"Fuck," you whispered to yourself, closing your eyes and swallowing hard.

Only then, you started to mentally curse yourself. You knew how bad you wanted them, how many nights you spent touching yourself wishing it was one of them making you feel good. You, who even while being in a committed relationship, spent hours and hours daydreaming about any of them bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you until you couldn't do anything but take them completely.

I will think about it.

There was absolutely nothing to think about and you knew it. What was stopping you then? Trying to act all collected and insightful when, in reality, there was not a single day where you could go without pleasuring yourself to the thought of them.

What is stopping me?

You stood there in silence for a few more minutes until you heard their room's door closing, rushing to grab a towel and a pair of clean clothes before running into the shared bathroom of the apartment. It was safe to say that it had been a long day.

Letting the hot water run and taking every single article of clothing before stepping right into the shower, you asked the same question one more time: what is stopping me?

And, as your eyes found your reflection in the foggy mirror, you understood the answer.

You could dream about them as much as you would like, but the nervousness of being not one but with two new partners scared you to death. 

They proposed to you. 

The idea was appealing, but the anguish that it represented was too strong to be fought in such a small period of time. You trusted them with your life, you really did, but you also knew them more than anyone else in the whole world. You knew what kind of girls they dated and what kind of things they did. You were nowhere near those qualifications and the fact that they even brought that idea was as flattering as it was confusing. 

Either way, the mere thought of knowing they desired you like that made you wonder what kind of perverted ideas they thought about whenever they saw you around. What did they see in you that you failed to appreciate?

*

Standing in front of their bedroom's door, you breathed three times before finding the courage to knock on it. The clock would strike 12 a.m. and you knew for sure they were still awake. That excited you as much as it scared you.

The door opened before you could knock again, unsure if they had heard the first pair of faint knocks. Just as you had predicted, both of them were still working on some of their projects.

"Everything alright, princess?" Changbin queried, his dark eyes scanning your figure with discretion. 

Princess. Changbin called you like that sometimes for as long as you could remember and it never failed to have the desired effect on you.

Wearing a black oversized shirt with nothing underneath but a pair of pink panties, it struck you only then that maybe you had executed your idea wrong. In your mind, you completely missed the part of the small chat before telling them your verdict about the proposal.

"Can I come in?" you asked, his body walking just a few steps back as he opened the door for you.

Chan turned around on his chair, welcoming himself with the sight of your body.

"I thought about it," you murmured shyly, sitting on the edge of Chan's bed before daring to look at the hungry gazes of your best friends, "and I want it".

"Hey," Chan rushed to call out your name, his parted lips inhaling more air than usual, "don't feel pressured to do it, if you decide not to I promise things are still going to be the same".

"I mean it," you assured him, "I just- I have a condition".

The three of you looked at each other for a couple of seconds in silence.

"Go on," Chan spoke, his whole body leaning forward.

“You said you often thought about me in that way".

"We do, yeah," one of them voiced but the two of them nodded, eager to hear the rest of your demand.

"I-" for a short moment, your breath got caught up in your throat and you wondered if the sudden courage and bravery were sponsored by the cheap alcohol or your undeniable arousal, "I want to know what you think about me".

Changbin looked at Chan and then at you, his body language changing drastically from relaxed to tense in a matter of seconds.

"Is that what you really want?" He queried. His voice was as seductive as it was intimidating, his question seeming more like a warning than an invitation. 

You simply nodded.

"I know nothing about this," you murmured, the warmth on your skin spreading throughout your body as Chan's and Changbin's gaze fixed on your eyes, "and you two are the most trustworthy men I know".

"So you want us to teach you?" Chan asked with a soft scoff, the lowness of his voice taking you by surprise.

"I just want to understand what is so appealing about sex to other people," you admitted, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head, "I just want to know how much I have missed".

Chan couldn't help but smile with fondness at your words, the warmth in his chest mixing up with the warmth between his legs. It wasn't just the fact that you trusted them enough to give your body to the two of them —it was the knowledge that, now that you had accepted their plea, they had the opportunity to make you feel like no one before.

Changbin walked up to your figure, the mattress slightly sinking as he took a seat right next to you. Whether it was out of nervousness or pure excitement, you couldn't help but shudder once the fabric of his black shorts brushed against the naked skin of your thighs.

"Don't be afraid," he cooed, his right hand moving upwards to find the left side of your face and turning it towards him, "you trust us, right?”

Your eyes met the curvature of his lips and, while his face approached you softly, you melted into his hands. The way his breath was stupidly close to be felt and his hand burned deliciously against your skin had you letting out a soft sigh before making the desired contact with him.

And it felt just like you had imagined it. Even better, you would dare to say.

Alcohol, a pinch of cherries and faint cigarette smoke were how you would describe his taste. He was gentle, maybe more gentle than you had expected him to be. His tongue dragged across your lips without going any further, teasing you and almost making you beg for more. He wasn't running out of breath but you were, letting out small whines while you tugged at the neck of his black t-shirt.

Only then, he interrupted the kiss by sinking his teeth on your lower lip and softly pulling at them, earning a sweet hiss from you.

"Should I go next?" Chan softly joked as he stood up from his seat, walking towards the available space of bed right next to you and sliding his hand up your naked thigh. Your parted lips found him immediately, but he remained in his position without going in for a kiss. "But first, you have to promise us something."

"Anything," you whispered out of breath, both men smiling proudly at how eager you were to have your way with them. 

"If you don't feel comfortable with something, you have to tell us," Chan warned, his eyes glued to the way your lips were inviting him to devour them.

Easy task. You nodded almost automatically, knowing that the odds of wanting them to stop were minimum to zero.

"Contrary to that, if there's something that you want, you will have to beg for it", he cooed, a faint smirk appearing on the corner of his lips as he saw the nervousness in your face, "promise?"

You let out a jittery laugh, feeling your accelerated heartbeats in the deepest parts of your throat, "it's embarrassing".

"It is not," Changbin intervened, his breath caressing the crook of your neck and making your eyes close for a quick second, "we will do anything you ask us to”.

"What do you get from it?" you questioned softly, your mind dizzy from both confusion and arousal.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" Chan asked, tilting his head and brushing your lips with his, completely ignoring your question. 

"Yes," you whispered, your heartbeats going at a mile per hour. Chan smiled against your lips without going any further, trying to give you the clue that you were not following one of his rules, "please Chan, kiss me".

Only then you felt his hand wrapping around your wrist, guiding it towards his lap. He soon placed it on top of his hardened bulge without a warning, his hips moving ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. "Do you see what you can cause if you beg nicely for us?" his hoarse voice inquired and you nodded almost automatically, both of your eyes probably opened like plates at his grittiness, “good”. 

He then gave you what you were wishing for so long, his plump lips moving against yours at a much slower pace than you had expected from him. It was almost as if he wanted to taste every inch of your lips that were mixed with your own taste and Changbin's. 

Unexpectedly, Changbin's hand caressed the skin on your thighs making you tremble against their bodies, Chan's lips drowning one of many pathetic whines that were urging to leave your mouth. Changbin dragged his touch further, lifting the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and finding the pleasant surprise of your pink, laced panties.

"You wore this for us?" he asked against your ear, the sound of his voice and breathing sending shivers down your spine, "you should've thought about it twice because i'm going to rip it off of you”. 

Another chill traveled throughout your body and your skin got covered in goosebumps, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the black-haired one. "You get turned on by words easily," he hummed, nibbling at the skin of your neck, "I'll remember that".

Chan broke the kiss to grasp for some air, the eyes that once looked at you with fondness were now completely clouded by nothing but lust. 

Changbin continued on kissing and biting your neck, that only contributed to the wet patch between your legs becoming way noticeable as Chan's fingertips threatened to make contact with your underwear, the fear of being exposed making you dwell in embarrassment.

"Now, tell us," Chan requested while his fingers reached for the skin of your inner thighs, "why did you change your mind?"

"I-" you tried to give an answer but Changbin's lips attached to your neck and Chan's touch lingering in between your legs were making the simple task feel ten times harder, "I was curious".

"That’s it?" Changbin asked, dragging his tongue along your skin and making you squirm under him, "I know there's something you are not telling us, princess".

And he was right. 

But how were you supposed to tell them that, even long before knowing that they were sexually attracted to you, you fantasized about them every single night?

Even when you were in a relationship.

"I like you two too," you mumbled in between sighs, fearing that Chan's playful smirk meant that he knew exactly what was going on in your perverted mind, "I thought about you as well".

"And what is it that you thought?" Chan questioned, his digits making the desired contact against your clothed core making you part your legs ever so slightly for them, "you can tell us, we know how to keep secrets". Even though the sentence was rather sweet, the hidden meaning behind it increased the tension on your lower abdomen, "after all, we are your best friends, right?".

"I thought about how good you two could make me feel," you whispered, Changbin's figure withdrawing from your neck and fixing your gaze on the masterpieces he had created on it, your skin now decorated with red bruises along it, "I thought about your fingers, often".

Changbin let out a soft laugh, the tip of his digits dragging along your t-shirt and clothed breasts only to end up brushing his thumb against your mouth, "show me how much you have thought about them, then".

With a curious look, you wrapped your lips around his digits without breaking eye contact. You sucked on them slowly, unsure if that was the action he was expecting from you. But, when he let out a soft groan, you understood that you were on the right path.

"Is this what you dreamt about, princess?" he questioned, pushing his fingers deep inside you as you nodded eagerly.

While you were too focused on Changbin's task, you didn't notice how Chan was lifting up your t-shirt to expose more of your thighs and underwear, the wet patch now becoming completely visible for him. He gently caressed your lower abdomen and made its way to your clothed slit, dragging one finger in circular motions and earning a sudden sigh out of you that was repressed by Changbin's digits.

"What was that, baby?" Chan scoffed, impressed by how sensitive you were.

Changbin took his fingers out of your mouth as Chan slid your panties to the side, licking his lips at the sight of how wet you were.

For a moment, you felt shy. Exposed. 

You wanted to close your legs and tell them that you didn't think the whole thing through but Chan's voice was what took you out of those intrusive thoughts.

"You are beautiful," he hummed, his heavy breathing ringing into your ears, "so fucking pretty".

You swallowed hard at his compliments, the skin on your whole body heating up in shyness as you got used to your best friends praising you in that way. 

Changbin's digits turned your chin to face him, placing his index and middle fingers in front of your lips as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

"Tell Chan how bad you need him to touch you," he ordered, his eyes fixed on the way your lips parted almost instinctively as he brushed them against your lips.

"Chan-" you tried to speak, but your breath got caught up in your throat too soon, "please-".

"Tell him exactly what you want," the dark-haired spoke again. 

Your gaze turned to Chan who was sitting on the opposite side as Changbin, his fingers swirling around the skin of your thighs without actually making contact where you needed him the most.

"Will you touch me, Chan?" you queried, the way your eyes looked at him sending a pinch of electricity to his already hardened erection, "please".

He smiled at your words and, almost immediately, followed your request. Your whole body trembled against them due to the unfamiliar feeling of having someone else other than you touching you like that.

"What else does our princess need?" Changbin cooed, forcing you to face him once again.

"Your fingers," you sighed, trying hard to maintain eye contact as Chan rubbed your clit painfully slowly, "can I please suck on them?".

It was the way you politely asked and not really begged that had them over the edge. It sounded filthier, more humiliating, they would say.

Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside your mouth and, as he pounded them deeper, a loud moan from you that was caught around his digits sent waves of pleasure throughout the whole body.

"Suck them properly," he commanded, admiring how your head acquired a pace of its own as you gag on them, "I’m fucking your pretty pussy with them".

Chan's digits kept on teasing your clit, your hips instinctively moving against them while you tried to intensify the feeling.

"Right there, princess," he cooed, smiling at how your body was more than ready to be fucked, "you are behaving so well".

Changbin's fingers went in deeper, making you gag and drool all over them. Judged by the way he was watching you, you would dare to say that he loved it. He loved how messy you looked, with your innocent gaze fixed on him and your chin completely covered with your own saliva.

"Baby," Chan hummed, leaving kisses on your shoulders and clavicles while he made your way to your ear, "do you think you are ready to take our fingers?"

Pulling away from Changbin's digits you nodded eagerly, the sinful scene of your teary eyes and drooling mouth was enough for the both of them to cum right then and there, completely in love by the ruined image of their beautiful best friend.

"I need them inside me," you whispered, "please fuck them inside me".

Changbin lost no time into guiding his hand all over your wet cunt, the digits that were previously fucking your mouth now grazing against your hole and threatening to force themselves into it.

"Are you always this wet when you think of us?" Chan queried, looking at how his bedsheets were now stained with your own juices.

"I am," you admitted, placing your head on his chest while he held you tight against him, "I am always so wet".

Changbin pushed both of his fingers inside you knowing that, with how wet you were and how good you had lubricated his fingers, the feeling was going to be everything but painful.

"Fuck-" you hissed, moving your hips unexpectedly and feeling that foreign tension on your lower back, "God-".

"Do you want to know a secret?" Chan asked, admiring your face of pure bliss as Changbin's fingers fucked your cunt and his palm rubbed against your swollen clit. You weakly nodded. "We often talked about you, me and him," he sighed, "we wondered how many times you had been walking around the apartment with your underwear drenched or how many times you had touched yourself in your room while we were sleeping".

"She is dripping wet," Changbin hummed, his lips approaching one of your ears, "I bet it would be so easy to just bend her over any surface of the apartment and put our cocks inside her pretty pussy, don't you think so?"

"Fuck yes," you whined, your vision getting clouded with each of Changbin's movements, “it would be so easy for you two to have me whenever you please".

"Only for us?" Chan scoffed, your words having the desired effect on him as his bulge grew harder and harder, "you are adorable".

Both of your hands traveled to their laps, your right one on Changbin's and your left one on Chan's. Shyly, you started palming them through their clothes, earning a faint laugh from Changbin who was still working on your cunt.

"Tell us what you want, princess," he cooed, "we might give you permission if you use your words." 

As soon as you were about to speak, Chan's digits replaced Changbin's palm and continued on rubbing your clit while the dark-haired fucked you at a rougher pace, the soft moans becoming louder and louder as the seconds passed by.

"Please, let me touch you," you whined, moving frantically against their hands, "I want to touch you too".

"Go on," he allowed, his voice becoming lower as your timid hands palmed him through the thin fabric of his shorts.

And without losing any more time, you snuck your hands under their clothes, being welcomed by the warmth of their skins as your hands wrapped around their lengths.

However, you were rather impressed by what you found underneath those clothes.

"Don't be scared," Chan murmured as he noticed your countenance, "we will make them fit”. 

You cursed again at his words, the tension on your lower back increasing as well as the frantic movements of your hands around them.

They couldn't help themselves but let out small grunts and sighs as you jerked them off, pulling down their clothes to give you even more access to their cocks.

Moving your hands up and down, the movements soon started to become sloppier and messier, your eyes started to roll to the back of your head and incoherent words and mumbles were escaping your lips as an unfamiliar feeling took control over you.

"You are clenching so fucking hard around me," Changbin groaned, increasing the pace of his digits, "does that feel good, princess?"

"Fuck yes," you sighed, the overwhelming feeling causing tears to prick into the corner of your eyes, "don't stop, don't stop, don't stop".

"You look so pretty like this," Chan praised, his hot breath tickling against your cheek, "all desperate and needy".

"Faster," you cried, moving your hips in circular motions against them, "please touch me faster".

And as good, compassionate best friends they were, the two of them followed your pleas. You knew that it wasn't going to take you long to reach your climax and, with all honesty, you could say that this was something you had never experienced before.

Maybe because of it you looked too desperate and eager in front of them, moving your hips frantically and trembling between their bodies as you reached your high.

The sight was something they would never forget, feeling the way your hand squeezed their cocks with roughnes as you cried and rode your orgasm. 

"Aren't you such a dirty princess?" Changbin groaned, still fucking you at the same pace just when you were reaching the highest point of your climax and forcing both of your legs open, "coming for the first time in no other than your best friend's bed".

"Oh, God," you cried, biting your lower lip while your body was still shaking.

"Don't close them just yet, baby" Chan mumbled, his digits collecting all of your juices while he held you in place, "don't you want to taste yourself?"

You whined at the faint overstimulation from Chan's digits dragging along your slit, getting completely coated by your arousal. They made their way to your lips and you were quick to clean them up completely, bopping your head and drooling all over them.

Soon, the weight on the bed from your right side shifted as Changbin's figure stood up from his seat. Lowering his shorts and underwear completely, his cock was now at full disposal to you.

And God, was he big.

"Come here," he demanded, signaling for you to kneel right in front of him, "show me what you've thought about me”. 

You had given blowjobs before, countless times, but your ex boyfriend was nowhere near to what you had in front of you. Your mind drifted away as it thought about his thick girth filling you up, making you cry both in pain and pleasure but, soon, those trails of thoughts were interrupted when Chan's figure came into the picture.

"We will be gentle," Chan hissed, placing his hand on the back of your head and guiding you all the way to his hardened length, 

Starting off with kitty licks, you dragged your tongue along the tip of Chan's cock. He let out a soft moan that only encouraged you to explore further, taking the head inside of your warm mouth as your hand reached out for Changbin's length.

"Jerk him off while I fuck your mouth, do you think you can do that?" you nodded against his cock, "if I get too rough, squeeze my thigh and I will stop".

You nodded once again, feeling how his hands pushed you deeper into his length. You were not really trained to take him, but you were determined to prove to them that you deserved to be fucked.

"All the way in," he hissed, hearing how you struggled to prevent yourself from gagging, "don't hold back, baby, let me hear you choking on my cock".

Relaxing your throat for a bit, you were able to take more of him. Squeezing Changbin's cock everytime Chan's length reached a deeper spot inside your mouth, he couldn't stop himself from letting out grunts and groans each time.

"My turn," Changbin hissed, one of his hands gripping your hair in a ponytail and guiding your face towards his length. With drool all over your chin, and letting out small coughs, you took Changbin's cock inside as if you were an expert on it. Now, your opposite hand reached out for Chan's length as you stroked himself with your own saliva.

"You are doing a great job," Changbin praised, closing his eyes and slamming his hips slowly against your mouth, "taking two cocks at the same time".

From then on, you started acquiring a pace of your own while sucking them off. Having one of their cocks inside of your mouth while stroking the other one, you spent all the time you were able to before your knees started to hurt and bruise due to the material of the rug.

And even then, you didn't want to stop.

The sound of their groans and moans were turning you on more than you would've thought, your available hand always rubbing against your clit as much as you could, driving you to the edge and tightening the now familiar knot on your lower abdomen.

"You have no idea how many times we fantasized about having you like this," Chan groaned, caressing your hair as he slammed his cock inside your mouth, "kneeling down in front of us with your mouth drooling and wanting to take our cocks completely". 

"She is so pretty," Changbin praised, biting his lower lip as he witnessed the scene of your teary eyes and ruined face alternating between his cock and Chan's, "I wonder how much prettier she will look with all of her holes filled".

A sudden moan escaped your lips as you heard those words. Of course you knew that having sex with more than one partner was a whole different world than what you were used to, but you never got to think about the implications of it.

"Is that what you want?" Chan questioned, his eyes fixed on the way Changbin's cock disappeared in your mouth, "do you want me to fuck your pussy while he fucks your ass?"

You would be lying if you said that the idea of doing so didn't turn you on.

"It is too soon to try anal," Changbin grunted, letting out a desperate sigh as soon as you withdrew from him to take Chan's cock, "she is not ready for it".

"You think so?" the brown-haired queried, burying himself inside your warm mouth, "I am sure she can take it".

Changbin gave him a worried look, but he wasn't going to deny the fact that he was dying to fuck you from behind. He knew how tight your cunt was from earlier, when he was fucking his fingers inside of you, and he could only imagine how much tighter your ass was.

Luckily for the both of you, he always kept a bottle of lube around for those kinds of rendezvous. 

Walking towards the small nightstand right next to his bed, he took out a black, small bottle that caught your whole attention as you awaited on your knees for him.

"I am going to ask you this once," he softly mumbled, caressing your hair and putting a strand of it behind your ear. "Do you really want to try this?"

You knew it was going to be painful but knowing it was them who were causing you pain only turned you even more.

"If you decide that you suddenly don't want it anymore, we will stop," Chan warned.

You stood up from the floor and walked towards the bed, removing your black t-shirt that was now ruined with drool, tears and even precum.

Chan laid down on his own bed with his hardened length inviting you to straddle over him, softly guiding your movements on the bed as he held your hand. You sat down on his lap and allowed him to continue with the task, one of his hands reaching down for the base of his cock to align it with your entrance.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked you with his jaw clenched, dragging the tip of his cock along your slit and earning a few sighs from the both of you. You simply nodded. "It's going to hurt, but I know you can take him".

You stared at Chan for what it felt like hours, and only regained consciousness of the place and position you were in once you felt the weight of the bed shifting as Changbin positioned himself right behind you, resting one of his hands on your hip while the other one held the bottle of lube.

"I think she is ready," Changbin announced and Chan lost no time in entering you, lifting his hips ever so slightly while burying the tip of his cock inside your tight cunt.

"Oh, Go-d," you breathed, leaning down on his figure while you placed both of your arms on each side of his head.

"Take me all the way in," Chan mumbled, pressing your figure down so that his cock could reach the deepest spots in you.

And even though you weren't a virgin, you had never felt such an overwhelming sentiment like this. He was bigger than what you were used to and he tried to do it delicately but awfully failed as he surrendered to his instincts, pounding himself inside you rather harshly for a beginner but just as pleasant. 

They both gave you a few minutes to get used to Chan's girth, squeezing it and clenching around it every time Changbin caressed your back and neck in an attempt to soothe you before the pain.

"She is so fucking tight around me," Chan hissed with gritted teeth, completely losing his mind over how wet and warm your pussy felt around him.

Just like he imagined it.

"How does it feel to have Chan stretching you open?" Changbin asks softly, placing a couple of wet pecks on your shoulders and neck while he lazily stroked himself with a fair amount of lube.

"It feels good," you admitted with shortness of breath, feeling dizzy on top of Chan. "I've never felt something like this before".

There was something so filthy about hearing you speak in such a manner that Changbin couldn't resist you anymore. You soon felt the palm of his hand on your lower back, pushing your body, forcing it to lean over Chan's and —once he caught the signal— wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly in place.

"Take a deep breath for me," Changbin ordered, getting even harder at the cold sensation of the lube as he poured more on him and your tightest hole. "We are going to count to three, yeah?"

Changbin always appeared to be someone tough but, it was at times like these, where you truly could appreciate such a soft side from him.

"One," he breathed and you felt Chan's arms tightening around you, his face buried on your neck and chest while he felt your body shuddering on top of his.

"Two," Changbin continued and your back unconsciously arched a bit more for him. "And three".

After the last number, you felt a numbing sensation throughout your body. Your toes curled up in pain and you tried hard to muffle the pathetic cries and whimpers but failed almost immediately.

"It hurts so much," you cried and Chan started to caress your back, feeling his heart pounding at a thousand miles per hour as he witnessed your vulnerable body on top of his.

"We know you can take us," Changbin hissed, softly pushing himself even deeper inside you. "All you have to do is get used to our cocks".

You whined and Chan hugged you even tighter, allowing you to cry over him as Changbin stretched your ass carefully. There was something so twisted about feeling your painful tears landing on his neck and chest that, for an unknown reason, riled him up even more.

"Don't move," Changbin ordered and you did as you were told, your hands gripping the bed sheets harshly while you tried your best to overcome the painful –but pleasant– feeling of having them both inside you. "I want to feel you".

Chan's hands traveled from your waist to your back, caressing it while trying to soothe the pain. You spent a good minute or two with your eyes closed, the only audible thing in the room were your cries and their heavy breathing.

"You think you are ready?" Chan asks you softly, leaving soft kisses on your breasts while still having his arms wrapped around your body.

"I think I am," you finally whispered after a few silent seconds, feeling your arms trembling in fear while still being able to hold your whole weight on top of Chan.

Changbin was the first one to move, slowly withdrawing himself from you only to thrust his cock again, making you cry in pain.

"You are doing such a good job," Chan praised, one of his hands reaching out to try the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. "It's just a little bit of pain, I am sure you can take it".

Changbin continued training you, softly pushing his cock inside you while trying to get you used to his girth. The pain never really went away, but the sudden sentiment of pleasure was quick to appear in the equation and, with that, it was ten times more bearable.

"Go on," Changbin hissed, trying his best to control himself. "She can take you now".

Chan lifted his hips slightly and almost came when he saw your grimaces of pleasure and pain, his cock throbbing at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes getting completely lost.

"Am I hurting you?" Chan asked you and you weakly shook your head, unable to focus on him —or anything, for that matter— because of the overwhelming sensations.

And as soon as they were sure you were alright, they started to acquire a pace of their own. They were going slow, much more slower than they would prefer, but it was still pleasant nonetheless.

Chan's lips captured your hardened nipples and, if anything, that single action made everything way more enjoyable. The cries and whines were soon replaced with moans and whimpers, and the gentle movements lost their softness once they both felt you were ready for a bit more.

"I don't think I am going to last long," Chan admitted between sighs, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.

Changbin was on the same page, but they both wanted to give you one more orgasm before their own. One of his hands traveled to your swollen clit and, while they both fucked your holes, he tried to mantain a steady pace while rubbing it.

"Oh my f- God," you moaned, both of your eyes opening like plates once you felt your body jolting at Changbin's touch. "It feels-".

You couldn't describe it, but they both knew what you meant by the way your holes clenched around them.

"You are dripping wet," Changbin whispered, coating his digits with your fluids while trying his best to get you to the promising orgasm. "You think you can come one more time for us?"

You didn't have time to reply when your eyes were already rolling at the back of your head and your arms started to tremble, threatening to lose any strength that was still left in them.

"God," you whispered again, parting your lips and looking like a complete mess for the both of them. "There, right there-".

Changbin increased his pace and it was only a matter of seconds before Chan started to feel your walls tightening around him almost aggressively. He closed his eyes and groaned under his breath, trying his best not to come just yet.

He wasn't wearing a condom and coming inside was definitely not an option —but God, how he wished it was.

"Just like that," Changbin praised while admiring your body shaking instinctively, his hips slamming against yours softly while you were still trying to overcome your high.

"You are making me lose my mind," Chan whispered as he saw your face, feeling completely vulnerable at the sight of your glossy eyes and parted lips. "It isn't fair to have you around and not be able to do this as much as I want".

Your arms lost all their strength and you inevitably fell on top of Chan's body, crying as you felt the overstimulation washing up on you.

"I'm not going to last long either," Changbin hissed and, with a swift movement, pulled out of you. You whined at the sentiment of emptiness, but it was also a relief.

Chan lifted your hips too and followed his best friend's actions, leaving you completely empty and a sobbing mess.

"Where do you want us?" Chan asked, caressing your cheek and pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"Wherever you both want to," you replied with shortness of breath and feeling a bit dizzy.

Of course they both wanted to finish inside you, but it was definitely not a good idea.

At least not tonight.

So Chan looked at Changbin and he did the same, almost as if they didn't need words to communicate with each other.

"Get on your knees," Changbin ordered and Chan smiled, recalling one of those times where they talked about how pretty you were and how much each fantasized about coming on your face.

She would look even prettier, Chan had said.

You followed their instructions and kneeled in front of Chan's bed, patiently waiting for them to approach your figure.

They both stood in front of you, stroking their cocks with their gazes fixed on your face. Changbin's hand even gripped your hair a bit harshly, setting you closer to them and in place so they could finish on your face.

"Stick your tongue out, baby," Chan panted, increasing the movement of his wrist on his cock.

You soon felt his arousal landing on your cheek, tongue and chin while a series of curses and groans left his lips. Changbin, once he saw the filthy image of you covered in his friend's semen, came next. With him, it was way more messier: tongue, chin, lips, cheek and forehead.

You swallowed their cum proudly, feeling as if it was some sort of reward for being able to take all the things they had chosen to give you that night. And they both admired the scene in awe, feeling their softening cocks twitching at the sight.

"You both taste good," you murmured, still kneeling in front of them. "I never thought I would like it".

Chan caressed your hair softly while Changbin's digits lifted your chin just so they could both catch a better glimpse of your face covered in cum —one of their biggest fantasies.

"Perhaps we should play the game again," Changbin mumbled, collecting some of their semen with his thumb only to push it inside your parted lips. "And see if your bottle of soju is still full after we are done". 

[dinogoofymutated]

Wolverine/Fem!Reader - Masterlist link

You've met Logan Howlett in every life you've lived since the 1900s. And in every lifetime, fate rips you from him just as cruelly as it forces the two of you to meet. How many lives will it take for the two of you to finally have your happily ever after?

General TWs: Reincarnation, death, Major character death (multiple times), Angst with a happy ending. Controlling familiail behavior, descriptions of wounds, descriptions of war, descriptions of violence/death, childhood trauma. Possible historical inaccuracies.

Here's the first chapter!! I waassss gonna wait until I finished part two and post both at once but TBH I was desperate to get this out! I hope yall enjoy this, and I would like to remind everyone that I am not a nurse or any kind of medical personnel, and I kinda struggled to find out about the procedures of ww1 nurses, so take most of the nurse stuff with a grain of salt! like watching a dumbed down version of grey's anatomy lol. I'd also like to say that I decided to make Logan's healing factor slower during ww1 and ww2, as he hadn't gone through the Weapon X program yet. Chapter TWs: Blood, injury, childhood injuries in the prologue scene, war n shit, ww1 canada is a tw on it's own.

     October 22, 1900.

    “Andy!!”  Your brother rolls his eyes at the sound of your high-pitched voice calling his name, turning around with a frown. He always had been faster than you, and today was no different. He had gone running into the woods when your mother had called the two of you in for lunch, and ever the devoted little sister, you had chased after him before she could notice what the two of you were doing. You’re panting when you finally catch up to him, your skirts scrunched up in your fists as you try your best to keep them from catching on bushes and vines.

    “Where are you going? Mama’s calling us for lunch!” Neither of you was supposed to be on this side of the woods, past the fence that marked your family’s property. It made you nervous to be so far past the boundary. Your older brother scoffs at you, turning away once again as he continues to march further. 

    “Father told me that he had set bear traps out to keep the animals away from the house. I’m going to see if he’s caught anything.” Andrew says stubbornly. You rush ahead to try and keep up with him, staying close and looking around anxiously. You never had been a rule breaker, and this was just a little more adventurous than you were comfortable with.

    “Bears? You don’t think we’ll find any, do you? I don't want to see anything be hurt.” You whine, tears forming in your eyes. Your brother laughs at you, the same way did the time you brought some a dying bird, or the time you had begged father to spare the rabbit that had been digging in the garden. He never understood why you were so soft-hearted.

    “You’re going to need to be more brave if you’re going to be an adult one day. Cowards get killed.” Andrews teases, cackling wickedly as he steps on a branch and the sound of it snapping causes you to flinch and cry out, rushing forward to grab hold of his arm.

    “That’s not true!” You cry. 

    “Yeah, it is!” Andrew argues. There’s a bit of a ditch in front of the two of you, and he shakes you off before he hops down. He holds his hand out to help you navigate the drop, and you take it eagerly as you carefully get down, making sure not to dirty your skirts any more than they had been. 

    “No, it’s not! It’s not true! It’s not true because I have you, remember? Big brothers are supposed to protect their little sisters!” You persist once you’re finished. Andrew sighs again, but you don’t doubt his answer for a second. He rolls his eyes at you before he begins to walk on.

    “Of course I am. But you can’t expect me to get to you every time.” Andrew says. You’re about to refute that when the two of you hear a rustling in the bushes up ahead. Andrew holds out a hand to keep you behind him, stopping both of you in your tracks. The birds have stopped singing, and you know that it means something scary is about to happen. Dad calls it a bad oh-men or something along those lines, but you didn’t usually listen to him. Now you’re starting to wish you had.

    “Stay here. I think I hear something up ahead.” Andrew whispers to you. You try to grab for his arms as he leaves you, but he’s too far away, and you find your feet rooted to the spot. You’re too scared to move, holding your hands anxiously as you watch Andrew begin to stumble through the bushes cautiously. You don’t like this. You don’t like it at all. You can only see his head through once he’s through the thick of it, and you hear him huff in disappointment when he doesn’t find anything on the other side.

    “Never mind. There’s not even-” There’s a sound of a mechanical snap before Andrew falls to the ground with a scream. 

    “Andy!” You cry out, immediately bolting through the bush. Branches and briars get caught on your skirt and tear at your skin as you push through to get to him. Your brother is shouting and grunting in pain when you see him, tears dotting his eyes as he stares down at the sight of his ankle caught firmly between the teeth of a bear trap.

    “Stupid trap!” He cries out, his hands shaking from adrenaline. You don’t know what to do, standing frozen at the bloody sight before you, mind going back and forth between whether or not you should go to your brother or run home to get your parents.

     “Help me get it off!” Andrew shouts, and it’s enough to finally bring you back to the situation. You can only nod frantically as you kneel by his side. Hands shaking as you help your brother try and open the trap and get it off of him. The metal digs into your fingers as you try to pry it open, your brother grunting and crying with the effort to do so. You can only think of what your parents will say, what Andrew will do. What if it got infected? What if he lost his foot completely? You realize you’re crying as you and Andrew try with all your might to pull the trap open, grip beginning to slip on the contraption right as Andrew tugs his leg out of the trap. It snaps closed violently after, barely missing both of your fingertips as Andrew rolls away from it.

    “What- What do we do? Andy?” You ask, unable to do much but stare as your brother writes in pain. It’s all happening so fast, but god did everything feel so slow. Andrew manages to make out something about stopping the bleeding, and you’re right on it as you press your small hands to the bloody, mangled, flesh. You squeeze tightly as you pray and pray and pray for him to stop bleeding, shutting your eyes tightly as you sob and cry and wish you could do something, anything more to help your big brother.

    There’s a buzzy feeling in your hands, like pins and needles without the pain. You don’t see it happening as you sit there and bawl for your brother, his warm blood on your hands all you can manage to feel in the moment. The blood begins to slow, and slow, and you don't even realize it has stopped until everything seems to be just as quiet as before. You realize that Andrew isn’t crying anymore, and find yourself brave enough to cautiously open your eyes.

    To your surprise, you don’t see anything. 

    All there is is Andrew’s blood staining his ripped pants and both of your hands- but the strangest part of all was that there was no more wound. Not even a bruise remained of the bone-deep cuts that had been there just a moment before. Your tears begin to dry up as your eyebrows furrow, still hiccuping as you look on at the scene in confusion. When you look up at your brother, he’s wide-eyed. Staring at you in complete shock.

    “Was that you that did that?”  He asks. You don’t know what to say. You don't know. You begin to notice a soreness in your leg as the two of you sit there, simply staring at each other in shock. Eventually, Andrew swallows, before he tries to stand up, doing so effortlessly and without pain. He stretches and flexes his leg, moving it back and forth like his brain is still playing catch up. You try to follow his lead, only to cry out in pain and stumble. There's a deep purple bruise circling your leg when you raise your skirt, one that perfectly mimicked the bloody hole in Andrew’s pants where his own wound once had been.

    He carried you back home that day.

    The Great War began on July 28th, 1914. The archduke of Austria, Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated, thus causing a series of events that spiraled into the worst war that the world had ever seen until that point. Your brother was quickly whisked away into the battle once the fight had started. He quickly advanced through the ranks, his ever-present charm and intelligence being a boon to him, and an asset to many others. He had always been the fighter. Your bother Andrew, your protector, and keeper of your secrets, now a general in the Canadian army. You could hardly believe it. 

    You, on the other hand, had begun to educate yourself at your brother’s behest. You became a nurse, finding yourself drawn to the field in the absence of the many men who had left mainland hospitals to go to war. You loved it. You loved helping people heal and survive, thrive even, but even so, you had become rather secretive about your natural gifts. Andrew, as supportive as he was, knew that the world would never accept powers like yours. As guilty as you felt every time a patient had slipped through the doctor’s fingers, you knew better. Your healing abilities took from you a fraction of what it gave to others, and using it was just not possible in large doses. You knew that and knew to listen to your brother’s warnings. Still, it did not stop you completely. Healing a wound or broken bone now and then in the shadows, where there was no one there to see. Miracles became your specialty, but your medical knowledge had become your backbone.

    At the end of April, you were surprised to receive a letter from your brother, the contents of it being a plea for you to join him in the war efforts. They needed nurses, trained, knowledgeable, nurses. You would be by his side as much as possible, but you were needed across the sea. And well, if it was your brother asking, who were you to refuse?

Novemver 2nd, 1917

    "You are to keep your medical supplies cleanly and well maintained. I understand that you aren't exactly green in this line of work, but let me tell you, you haven't seen war yet." The senior nurse in front of you has no time for fools, you have only known her for a moment, and yet you know this for a fact. Her pace is fast and purposeful. Her skirt is muddied and stained, and yet her boots do not seem to sink or stick in the mud like yours do as you try your best to keep up with her. Nurse Mary is strict in personality and pace, and you're careful to follow directly behind her throughout the busy encampment. 

Everyone seems to have something urgent to attend to, soldiers and nurses and medics alike all running about through the mud and dirt. There are many hospital tents, many more than you had originally anticipated. You begin to realize exactly why your brother had been so firm in instructing you to refrain from assisting any wounded beyond what help lies within sutures and gauze. 

    “How often do the wounded arrive?” You ask, following her into a rather large hospital tent and passing by various cots with wounded men.

    “You should expect them to arrive every day. The wounded are many, but the dead are more, god rest their souls.”  She tells you, one of her hands clutching the cross around her neck for a moment. There are many things you have learned throughout your schooling, and many gruesome sights you know to expect, but the one thing that still gave you chills was the death toll. You try not to think about it too hard, knowing that it’s just the truth of war that good men go to die. But that doesn’t mean you will ever be forced to be comfortable with it. You pass many rows of wounded soldiers as you follow her through, many being gravely injured with missing and mangled limbs, and shrapnel in places where it should never be. You keep your bedside manner in check, but you know half of those men won’t make it through the night.

    “We should be grateful for the men who return to our care, but please keep in mind that we are the only buffer between them and god. You must understand that losing these men isn’t an if, it’s a when.” You nod solemnly in response to her, quelling the anxiety in your heart. You knew very well that she was right. You casually look around the hospital tent, doing your best to help familiarise yourself with the surroundings when a puff of smoke catches your eye.

    You don’t know where to laugh or scold the man, brown eyes meeting your own as he quickly tries to hide the cigar. Nurse Mary clearly had not seen him, but you certainly did. You can’t help but smile in a baffled sort of way, and the soldier- the quite handsome soldier- smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you. You try not to laugh, choosing to simply shake your head instead of pointing it out to Nurse Mary. It’s something he clearly appreciates, and he tips his head at you, winking as you finally pass him by. You hope you’re not blushing, quickly looking away from him with a smile on your face that you couldn’t fight off.

    “Are you paying attention, Miss? Your brother spoke very highly of your skills, it would be a shame if it were all to be lies.” The nurse ahead of you says, a strict tone in her voice. It almost startles you, bringing you back to earth after the solid minute of distraction the brown-eyed soldier had caused. 

    “I- yes. I apologize. Please, continue.” You reply quickly. You can tell she’s not quite convinced but doesn’t have the time to care, reminding you that there would be little to no time to dally once you had been given decent instruction about the facilities. You’re eager to get to work, and decide that there would be no more distractions today- no matter how charming or handsome they seem to be.

—-

    You were assigned work the moment your walkthrough had been conducted. No downtime, no breaks. You wonder if you truly had any idea how bad things would be where you got here. Seeing the wounded was one thing, but reading their chart was another. You felt detached as you conducted physicals, changed bandages, and redressed wounds and cuts. You checked for infections in those with amputated limbs, knowing that death would soon come for those who were so unfortunate. The difference between any of the men was astounding- wounds from this war unlike any that you had ever seen before. You had heard of the new weapons, the horrors that geniuses had developed so that others would die. It pains you that someone could be so ignorant and cruel- and yet even you hope that you would never have to face those instruments of war.

   Out of all the strange and unusual wounds and war-torn soldiers you met on that day, there was only one who you remembered in truly remarkable detail.

    You see the puff of smoke before you see him, lounging on the backboard of his hospital cot without a care in the world. Besides some old bandages on his chest, you can tell that he’s not in any pain. To be honest, you start to wonder if he belongs in this infirmary at all. He’s distracted, cigar held up to his lips as he takes a deep inhale of the smoke, drowning out his senses with the nicotine. 

    “You must be feeling pretty confident to be breaking the only rule we have in here.” You say, raising an eyebrow at him. He chokes on the smoke rather suddenly, trying to recover as quickly as he can as he puts the cigar out. You give him a sweet smile, trying your best not to laugh. He smiles sort of unabashedly at you, shrugging. 

    “Can’t blame a man for tryin’.” He coughs. You shake your head at him, lifting some papers on your clipboard before you find the one assigned to his cot. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his list of past injuries and causes of infirmary visits. How is this man even alive?

    “Logan Howlett, I presume? You’re pretty perky for a man who has such a long list of injuries.” You state, still reading it through. You’ve never seen this many on one chart before- all dating from the very start of the war to his current visit. Logan gives you a shrug of his shoulders, which isn’t exactly a response you would prefer, but he smiles at you in a charming sort of way that makes your heart flutter. 

    “They call me Lucky Logan for a reason,” Logan hums- causing you to huff a laugh. You shake your head at him, setting the clipboard down on the edge of the bed before you begin conducting a physical and checking on his “wounds.”- not that there really was any besides an odd, yellowed bruise or two that you could almost swear seemed to be lightening by the minute.

    “ ‘You new here?” You glance up at him at the sound of his voice, smiling a bit out of politeness.

   “Why, Is it that easy to tell?” You ask, knowing that he certainly knew so due to him seeing you earlier, but you wonder for a moment if you seemed to be any different from the other nurses. You always strived to be good at what you do, but part of you had a tendency to worry if you could keep up with the others here.

    “Nah,” He says, bluntly. “I just think I’d remember if I had seen a pretty nurse like you before.”  The words make you gape for a moment, that smile still showing as you shake your head at him and try not to laugh. He was a flirt- a rather smooth one too. 

    “Do you use that line on all the ladies?” You tease as you pull out your stethoscope to listen to his heart. You listen, and besides the fact that his heart rate is a little faster than the regular average, you don’t seem to notice anything too strange.

    “Only the ones as pretty as you.” He says. You don’t hold back your laugh at that, and his genuine smile is definitely contagious. You check his eyesight and overall mobility one more time once you’re done, trying not to blush at the way he’s looking at you. You feel his gaze even when you step away to write on his chart, finishing things up.

    “Well, Mr. Howlett, you seem to have a perfect bill of health,” Logan perks up a bit at that, moving to where he can sit on the side of the cot, his feet on the ground. “...but I can’t completely release you just yet. You’re free to wander around some, but you’ll have to wait for the doc to give you one last look-over before you can go back to the frontlines.” He lets out a dramatic sigh, frowning for only a minute before he stands, winking at you as he grabs his shirt from underneath the cot- the bloodied one they wheeled him in here with, no doubt, and puts it on.

    “If that means I’ll be seeing you more often, I’ll take it.” He flirts. You laugh, knowing that you very well might have swooned if you had been any greener to this line of work. Instead, all you can really do is cringe at the sight of his shirt and lean down to the small table to his right, the one where his chart had been, and open the drawer, revealing a freshly clean set of clothes. 

    “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Smokey.” You joke, finding his surprised face rather endearing. It only takes a moment before he’s smirking again, taking the clothes from you and doing a mock toast to you with the cloth. You shake your head at him, trying to keep your smile contained as you walk away from him and over to your next patient.

    You find yourself thinking about him throughout the day, both delighted and somewhat frustrated at yourself for swooning so easily over a soldier- on your first day, too. You had told yourself when you took this job that you would never do such a thing, knowing that so many romances in a time like this end in tragedy- but you certainly couldn’t seem to help it. You think about him when the other nurses talk about their personal soldiers, out there fighting the war, and think about him again before you go to bed. It was frustrating! You met a man and knew him a whole ten minutes before swooning like a schoolgirl. You suppose it felt nice to be wanted nonetheless and felt nice to be complemented by someone you found so handsome… But you didn’t need to be thinking so hard about this right now anyway. You roll over onto your side in your bed, hoping to fall asleep soon instead of spending time thinking about something that won’t happen.

    Besides, there wasn’t a chance in hell that your brother would ever approve of any relationship you had with a soldier. You were sure that if he had his way, you would die as a spinster- forever reliant on the family. Your dreams that night are more like nightmares, dreaming of faces and growing old and rocking in a chair alone in your brother’s house, a burden to his finances, his wife, and children. But then there are some dreams where you see the face of one particular soldier, and wonder why you felt so compelled by him.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

one free pass for the grumpy!logan and overprotective brother!wade plot bunny 🤝🐇

"So," Vanessa hummed, watching you stir pans, "how was the date you went on?"

"He stood me up," you shrug. "I did get some really good gyoza though-"

"Sweetie."

You shrug again. "It's not the first time. And let's face it. It won't be the last. I write romance books. I don't live them."

Vanessa gave you a look but kept her commentary to herself. The last few years had been hard on everyone. You'd thought your big brother was dead right along next to her. You'd been in the thick of it even though you were trying to start college. Still just a kid. And in a lot of ways you were her rock- and a link to Wade when he was gone.

"I don't want to spend my whole life like our mom. Just like Wade doesn't want to be our dad, Nessa." You shake your head like you're banishing a thought and turn off the stove. "Let's fucking eat. I'm starving."

"This looks incredible. I have sex dreams less erotic than this."

"I heard that, Ow," Wade said, clutching his heart.

Vanessa shrugged and poured stroganoff into a bowl before shoving it into his hands, "Go be useful. Y/N did the hard part."

"Logan," you call, "I know you probably don't do wine, I got beer if you want that instead?"

"I uh- thanks," he said, shuffling to the table, offering Trigger his hand to smell when the dog shot him a look. He sniffed it and shot him a distinctly dirty look before walking away to re-glue himself to your side. Good dog, he thought.

"No assigned seating here, Logi-bear," Wade said, taking a seat next to Vanessa as he finished putting portions on plates- leaving Logan nowhere to sit but next to you since he'd put Mary in the other empty spot.

He nodded and pulled out a chair and looked towards the kitchen. He could hear you still rattling around and the sound of a knife slicing through something. And then a clatter "Fuck!"

Wade was out of his seat in a second and in the kitchen, "What'd you do- Holy shit biscuits!"

"It's fine I just-"

"Where d'you keep you towels?" he asked, rifling through the drawers and throwing things around.

"Next to the sink, Christ, it's not that bad-"

When you walk around the corner with Wade's arm around your shoulder, Logan blinked, blood-spattered your shirt and your pants. For "Not that bad" it looked like you might have cut your fucking hand off.

"I'll get some Ice," Vanessa said, standing up, "Logan, keep pressure on that for a second?"

Logan nodded, "Easy bleeder?" he ventured. You weren't phased enough about it for this to be new.

You nod and sigh, letting him look at your hand. "I've done worse," you muse. "He's so fucking dramatic." A thud makes you look away from the wound and Logan wrapped it to press on it carefully. "I swear if they're fucking in my kitchen again-"

"We're not," Vanessa said returning with an icepack, "I dropped the ice cream trying to find the ice."

"And Wade is-"

"Debating on if You'd want the staple gun or just super glue," he answered.

"There's bandages under the sink you degenerate!"

"Ooo, secrets," Wade said, dropping the stuff he was holding and heading towards the bathroom.

"Nessa," you plead.

"I'll go get him," she said rolling her eyes.

Logan exhaled through his nose and adjusted the ice on your hand. "I think you'll live, kid."

"Probably. I can hold this, your dinner is getting cold-"

Logan snorted, "Not a complete animal. Wouldn't be polite to eat while my hostess is bleeding out."

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the murder at evergreen university

a/n: asdfghjkl I have been writing this since january...... wow. it's never taken me that long to write a story before... also I made a quick student bio about the majority of the people in this story, so if you wanna start off by looking at that, then here is the link ♡

summary:  just a slutty murder mystery

warnings: reader x various CEvans characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), DARK content, noncon, smut, violence, university AU, murder mystery, detective!Ari, family friend!Ari, mma!Curtis (I just couldn't resist), surely extremely inaccurate on all levels (the college stuff, the investigation, everything, but this is just for fun so it's okay. lol I got the frat name from fantasynamegenerators.com hehe), polyamory, kissing, alcohol consumption, crying, drugging, murder, somno, daddy kink, dirty talk, choking, penetrative sex, size kink, vomiting, flashback sequences are written in all cursive

word count: 11.100

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | evergreen university masterlist

Walking up the steps of the Kappa Zeta Nu building, you pulled your humming ear pods out of your ears and popped them in the jacket pocket where your phone rested. If it hadn’t been for the big Greek letters above and its proximity to the college, the fraternity house could almost fool someone into thinking it was just any other regular suburban home. 

Giving the front door a rhythmic knock, it quickly swung open to reveal a scruffy-looking mathematics major, still groggy from sleep. 

“Morning Frank,” you couldn’t help but notice the spark in his eye that your presence generated. 

“Angel,” your nickname sounded so good on his sleepy lips, making you smile as he gave you a quick glance up and down, “how do you look like that this early in the morning?” 

Walking past him, further into the house, you chuckled, “8:30 is not that early.”

“Um, on a Saturday it is.” 

Thanks to the open floor plan, you quickly caught sight of Jake sitting by the kitchen island, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. 

“Hey!” the blonde smiled, mouth still full of his breakfast, “I’m guessing by the gorgeous look on your face that you made it through last night?”

“Yep,” you exhaled, thinking back on the major cram session you had to power through in order to meet the paper’s deadline. The lengthy assignment for your cognitive psychology class had been so extensive that it probably hadn’t been that smart of you to keep procrastinating it the way that you had, but somehow you got it done, “turned it in just in time.” 

“Atta girl,” the computer whiz reached over the counter to give you a high five, “I knew you could do it!”

“Speaking of yesterday,” yours and Jake’s fingers lingered a moment before parting ways, “how’s our boy doing? Did he make it through last night?”

Appearing behind you, still sweaty and panting from his morning run, Steve answered your question, evidently catching the tail end of the conversation just as he came in through the door, “Curtis is doing just fine,” he leaned against one of the counters, catching his breath, “better than fine actually, he won.” 

“He did?” a bright smile bloomed on your face, “man, I wish I could have been there…” you were usually so strict about being there for important things, such as Curtis’ occasional MMA fights, but because of your procrastinated schoolwork, you hadn’t been able to tag along. “It’s all Lloyd’s fault, you know. He did the whole oh yeah, we can have a little study date, get that paper done, no sweat, and then distracted me, leaving me with all of the work to get through yesterday.”  

“You wanna turn the faucets on down here, give his shower an icy turn as revenge?” Jake suggested, fiddling with his spoon playfully. 

“Nah, I’ll just give him the cold shoulder for a bit,” you settled your forearms against the countertop, unintentionally giving the guys a better view down your top, “he hates it when I ignore him.”

“He sure does,” Jakes drawled, nearly dropping his utensil into the milky bowl as he unabashedly stared down your cleavage. 

Biting your bottom lip a second, you returned to the matter at hand, “is he up yet?”

“Curtis?” Steve clarified, opening the fridge and plucking out a cold bottle of water. 

“Yeah.”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head behind you, “he’s still sleeping.”

Only pushing yourself halfway up, you asked “can I go see him?” slightly taking the others by surprise. 

“When have you even needed permission to go barge into his room?” Frank questioned.

“I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down at the speckled pattern of the counter's surface, “maybe he’s got company or something…”

“Angel,” Steve leaned over the opposite side of the table, craning his neck so that he could catch your timid eyes, “he is not gonna go pick up some random girl just because you miss one of his fights.”

Bowing your head, you opted not to answer, instead just attempted to shake the doubt off you entirely. 

In a bouncy rocking motion, you straitened back up and moved towards the stairs, two of the guys tagging along as they too needed to head upstairs. 

“So,” you glanced over your shoulder at Frank and Steve, “how’s Ransom settling in?”

“The new guy?” Steve spoke, “fine, I think. I don’t know, I don’t speak trust fund kid, so how would I know.”

“I don’t think he’s that bad… Shouldn’t we at least try to include him in our little group? It just seems kinda mean not to since we’re so tight and you all live with him,” reaching the top of the stairs, you heard, from the bathroom directly in front of you, the trickling clues of Lloyd’s luxurious shower, and briefly glanced down at the far end of the hall where the new guy’s closed door was, his vast room mirroring Steve’s at the opposite side, though his was much more secluded from the rest, being closed in by the injection of both the broad staircase and the bathroom before the cluster of rooms came. “Like you said, you don’t know him yet, he might be super sweet and just takes a bit of time to warm up to people.”

“Maybe,” was all Frank cagily, not giving it any more thought. 

Coming to a stop in front of Curtis’ door, you slowly creaked it open, revealing the sleeping display of a bruised buzzcut, still lightly snoring on his back.

“Jesus christ,” you breathed and leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, taking in the beaten form of your friend, “you sure he won?” you asked the men still lingering a second longer, peeking over your shoulder into the room.

“Yeah, you don’t wanna see the other guy,” Frank gave your behind a quick tap before ducking into his own room. 

Turning your head to look at Steve, himself leisurely making his way down towards the room at the end of the hall, “you sure he’s fine?” 

Stopping in his step, he offered you an earnest glance, “he’s fine, Y/n. Go wake him up.”

After shutting the door behind you, you peeled off your jacket and let it drop down onto the desk chair you passed on your way towards the small mattress. Kicking off your shoes, you climbed the twin bed, kneeling beside your resting friend.

“Wake up,” you sang, dipping your smile down low to rouse Curtis. Receiving a less than lively reaction, only getting a soft inhale of breath as an indication that he’d woken, you tried again, swinging one of your legs over his form to straddle his hips, “hey, tough guy,” you felt his palms slide up the curve of your ass and come to rest around your waist, “you alive?”

Just barely fluttering his bruised eyelids open, a bright smile bloomed on his lips, “hi angel,” he sighed contently at your presence, blinking up at your softly illuminated form as the gentle morning light streamed in through his open window, the family of birds living in the tree just outside aiding in the gentle ambience. 

“A little birdy told me that you won last night,” you let your upper body sink down against his, resting your chin on top of your folded palms, right underneath his chin.

“I did,” you saw as the sting of his various injuries woke him up even further, “although I still would have preferred if my good luck charm had been there instead of doing boring homework.” 

“Oh, please don’t make me feel any worse,” you hid your face in his chest, “I already feel like I have too much making up to do.”

“Oh yeah?” he picked your head up for you to see the sly smirk now adorning his face, “what did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” you spoke shyly, feeling your cheeks flush as the position the two of you had found yourself in dawned on you, “I just really wanted to have been there,” and you sat back up, wary of where you placed your hands for support on his beaten frame. 

“Ah,” he waved a reassuring hand, “you’ll be at the next one.”

“Oh, I will,” you grinned promisingly, scooting down to the foot of the bed as you watched him sit up, the duvet falling off his body to relieve the rest of the colourful aftermath, “a simple assignment won’t be able to stop me,” your enthusiasm made him smile through the wince he let out as he got up off the mattress.

Tailing after Curtis as he moved out into the hall and made his way down towards the lavatory, you suggested as you followed him into the bathroom, “we should totally do something to celebrate your win! It’s the weekend, we should do something fun!”

Standing by one of the sinks, Lloyd, fresh out of the shower, didn’t take his eyes off his hair in the reflection as you sauntered in. As Curtis grabbed his toothbrush, he leaned down and whispered cheekily in your ear, “I know a way we can celebrate, just the two of us,” flashing you a glance that caused your breath to get caught in your throat. 

Cutting off your flustered giggle, Lloyd spoke, “there’s supposed to be a party tonight down on the other side of campus. Me and a few of the others were talking about going.” 

“Oh, the one Delta Phi is throwing? Nat’s going to that! Said something this morning about meeting the guy she’s been seeing there.”

“What-, guy?” Lloyd finally ripped his eyes away from the mirror, “what happened to that yoga chick?”

“I don’t know, I think she was moving a little bit too fast for Natasha’s speed,” you spoke of your commitment-phobe of a roommate. Saddling up beside the fighter now brushing his teeth, you said, “so, what do you say?” bumping your hip gently against his as you saw him look back at you in the mirror, “it could be fun.”

Pretending to ponder the proposal, Curtis answered, “if you put on a pretty little dress, then I might be convinced to go,” the foaming toothpaste lightly murmuring his flirting.

“…It’s always the innocent-looking ones you’ve gotta look out for,” Ransom spoke over the loud, bassy music to the moustachioed man next to him on the couch, “and this little charade you’ve all got going on must be a hell of a good time,” he elbowed him suggestively, though didn’t conjure the desired reaction from him, “oh, come on, you can tell me, dude. Just help a brother out with a few details.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lloyd shrugged with a smirk and took a sip of his beer. 

“What do you mean?”

Huffing out a soft sigh, he answered, “she’s an amazing girl, don’t get me wrong, but she just has a few rules.”

“What, like some bdsm kinda rules?” Ransom’s eyebrows wiggled excitedly. 

“No, man,” he tried not to chuckle at the yearned-for images his inappropriate guess provoked, “back when we met her she-… her heart was fucking broken and there wasn’t a lot of stuff that she wanted to do anymore, that she felt comfortable with, but over time, I guess when she started getting over whomever that fucker was, she began to relax and let us in.”

“So, you’re really saying you haven’t hit that yet?” the prying man furrowed his brows, unmoved by the sob story. 

“None of us have.”

“Then are those stories about you banging her last week just rumours?”

“No, no, well not exactly, we did have fun, trust me,” he chuckled, poking his cheek playfully with his tongue, “but I didn’t exactly bang her.”

“So, let me get this right, you’re all mad for her and she hasn’t given out? To any of you? What, is she still a virgin or something? Waiting for marriage?”

“I don’t think so,” Llyod thought for a moment, “but it kinda wouldn’t surprise me either if she was… I don’t know… it’s kinda complicated, but damn if she isn’t worth it.”

Letting out a low exhale, he shook his head, “I don’t know how you stand it, dude. If she was mine, she wouldn’t be able to walk. Hell, how do you even share someone like her?” 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s mine per se, we all just have fun, you know? Why not share?”

“Hey,” your chipper voice interrupted their lewd convocation as you finally caught sight of them on the dark leather couch in the corner of the party, “there you are,” and immediately grabbed each of their hands in yours, “come on,” you leaned your weight back, ushering them to get up, “we’re doing shots in the kitchen!”

“Seriously, Barnes? Watch where you’re going!” Ransom exclaimed as the host of the party had rowdily bumped into the rich boy on his way through the narrow kitchen, causing the bright pink shot in his hand to spill all down the front of his white sweater, “this is cashmere, dude!” he yelled after Bucky’s quickly disappearing form, clearly not haven noticed the interaction himself over the deafening music and his drunken haze.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, noticing the huge stain now blooming on the man beside you, “are you okay?” the sharp alcohol still stung in your throat causing your words to come out ragged. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he stared down at himself, then over his shoulder in contemplation of whether or not he should run after the guy in pursuit of revenge, “this sweater however is not.”

As your eyes washed over the ivory knit, watching it soak up the colourful cocktail, you thought out loud as an idea struck you, “well, maybe…” and acted quickly, grabbing the man’s hand, “come with me,” you yanked him past the rest of your jovial friends and down the hallway towards the small bathroom.

Catching on to where your head was at, Ransom spoke after crossing the threshold, “Y/n, this is very sweet, but I don’t know if it will work.”

“Just shut up and take it off,” you held out your hand, too blind by your inebriated problem-solving instincts to consider any other outcome.

Gazing back at you a moment, he then chuckled and tugged the sweater over his head with one hand, your eyes widening as he placed the item in your waiting palm, it haven apparently been the only layer he had on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, dumbfounded for a second as you stared at his bare chest, briefly admiring his toned form before shaking it off and spinning around to turn on the sink. Holding the stained material against the slowly trickling cold water, you pressed and pinched the spot gently in an effort to not agitate the delicate fibres. “I swear, I’m always the worst at spilling stuff on myself, I’m like a child, plus the fact that I’m a knitter, so not to promise anything, but I’d say you’re in pretty good hands.”

He didn’t say anything, simply settled in beside you, leaning against the edge of the sink as he watched your face contort in adorable concentration. 

“Oh, dammit…” you gave up after a few minutes of gentle scrubbing. Turning the faucet off, you held the sweater up and looked at the, although lighter, still very much visible pink stain, “well at least it’s a little bit better than before,” you tried, flashing the half-naked man an apologetic look, “maybe if I soak it a bit it’ll get better, but-”

“Hey,” Ransom placed his fingers atop yours still clutching the wool, “it’s fine,” he lowered your hands as he leaned in and closed the gap between you two, his alcoholic breath fanning across your flush cheeks as he uttered a quiet, “thank you,” before unexpectedly pressing a greedy kiss against your lips. 

Feeling his grip tug the sweater out of your hands, you instinctively pressed your palms against his chest for support as the whole move had made your intoxicated body lose its balance. His lips were soft, but his kisses were hungry, determinedly letting it build far faster than you were ready for.

You let out a soft giggle of surprise as he suddenly scooped you up and planted you on the edge of the sink, nestling himself in between your parted thighs, your short dress haven ridden up from the movement.

“So, is this why they all call you angel?” he asked as his heated pecks fluttered down your neck, “because you swoop in and save the day?”

“I don’t know if I do that…” you breathed timidly, the reality of what he was doing just catching up to you now. 

“Oh, but you do. You saved mine,” he smirked, “you’re my hero,” you felt the tickle of his fingers as they snuck further up under your dress, “however can I repay you?” 

“I, um,” you giggled nervously, catching his wrists before they could get any further, pressing your lips against his in an effort to soften the blow as you thought of a gentle way to let him down, “I think that kiss by itself was a pretty good thank you,” you hopped down from the sink even though he made no effort in providing you room to do so.

Enclosing his arms around you as you giggly stumbled further towards the still-ajar door, he uttered, pressing the obvious tent in his pants up against your softness, “but why stop there? I can do a lot better than that if you just give me five more minutes,” but the door conveniently swung open a bit more just as two familiar figures passed it.

“Angel!” Jake, completely blind to the man still clawing at you to stay inside the bathroom, hooked an arm around your waist and yanked you along as he and Frank jovially strolled past, “there you are! It’s almost 11 o'clock, please don’t tell me that you’re bailing on Curtis and truly dooming him to lose to us.”

“I think Curtis would lose to you two in beer pong whether I am on his team or not,” you smiled, thankful of their timing, “you guys are the reigning champions after all.”

“Damn right,” Frank roared, excitedly lifting his fist, “J and F! F and J! Ain’t nothing this duo can’t accomplish.”

“Well, not everything,” you giggled, hooking your arms around their forms as they strolled on either side of you, their arms draped over you in return, “for instance, you’re both terrible cooks.”

“Shut up, angel,” Jake said playfully, “we’re unstoppable and you know it,” he stopped you in your tracks and trapped you against the wall, “say it,” he smirked down at you as Frank, not missing a beat, slipped in as well, enclosing you completely, “say that we’re unstoppable.”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you uttered, “you’re unstoppable,” the sudden proximity awakening memories that made your heart flutter. 

“Good girl,” he purred purposely, and a shiver ran down your spine as you recalled just how hot they both sounded cumming for you, a while back, when they had managed to talk you into playing with them both. 

“You guys are so mean,” you said light-heartedly. 

“Yeah,” Frank scrunched his nose through his warm smile, “but you like it.”

Twirling you around the dancefloor, Lloyd had been the only one in the mood to satisfy your surge of energy when you came pouting, begging the boys to dance with you. Holding you close, his hands roamed as you rocked to the music, causing you to close your eyes and drift away.

“Hey,” a different hand suddenly tapped you on the shoulder and tore you out of your dream, “I need to talk to you a sec.” 

Eyes fluttering open to look back at your redheaded roommate, you gave her a quick, “okay,” before raising yourself up onto your toes to speak into your dance partner’s ear, “hey, I’ll be right back!”

“Okay,” he shouted back over the loud music, “I’ll just go grab a drink, you want any?”

“Please,” you reluctantly let go of his hand and yelled after him as you followed your friend through the swarm of partying people, “a beer, thanks!” 

Rounding the corner to settle into a comparatively quieter nook, you tugged your wild hair behind your ears as you looked back at Natasha, “what’s up?”

Biting her lip, she spoke, “you love me, right?”

“Well, obviously, I’m about to get down on one knee and everything,” you joked, “what is it?”

“Can I have the room tonight?” she asked with a small winch, knowing damn well how frequent this request was. 

“Seriously?” your eyebrows shot up, “again?”

“Please?” she folded her hands dramatically in front of her and begged. 

Letting out a soft sigh, you said slowly, “if you buy me that super good chocolate with the blue wrapper that they sell down on the corner, then-”

“Oh my god,” she cut you off and threw her arms around you, “thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re the worst roommate ever, you know that?” you smiled, patting her back. 

“And you are the best, a true saint! Me and my sex life pray at your altar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled, playfully pushing her away, “go on then, get laid.”

Returning to find that Lloyd had settled in with the rest of the guys, taking up all of the clustered couches, you put on your best miserable expression as he handed you your beer, “guys,” you dramatically caught their attention, “I have some really devastating news to tell you…” faking the need to suck in a self-soothing breath before uttering, “tonight, on this very night, I am homeless!”

“Oh no!” they played along, giggling as you pressed the back of your hand up against your forehead. 

“I know! Whatever am I to do? If only some big, strong, handsome boys would let me crash at their frat…”

Clutching onto Curtis’ broad shoulders as he gave you a piggyback ride back to the frat, you all laughed at Jake and Frank’s terrible, lewd rendition of the school’s fight song. If Lloyd had been here, if his stamina hadn’t forced him to stay out and enjoy the night a little longer, he would have probably not only joined in, but led the tune, waking up everyone in the dorms you passed. 

“So,” Ransom smirked as you all tumbled in through the destinated front door, “who will have the pleasure of bunking with you tonight?”

“I, uh,” you giggled as Curtis sat you down, your shoes clutched in your hand, “I don’t know…”

“You can sleep in my room if you want,” Steve offered generously, “I’ll just sleep down here on the couch.”

“Really? Are you sure? Because I can just sleep down here on the couch, it’s fine.”

“No, no,” he waved a hand reassuringly, “you’ve had way more to drink tonight than I have, so you should really take the room closest to the bathroom, just in case.”

Smiling widely, you stumbled over and wrapped your arms around his bulky form, “thank you, Steve,” breathing in his scent as you smooshed your face into his t-shirt, “you’re the best.”

“You wanna borrow a shirt to sleep in?” Curtis asked, reaching out a quick arm to steady you as you lost your balance on your way towards the wide staircase.  

“Oh, yeah,” you offered him a fuzzy smile, both the alcohol and the hour causing your eyelids to feel like they weighed a ton, “that would be great.” 

Getting settled into the comparatively more private bedroom located next to the stairs, the bathroom too separating it from the rest of the doors clustered down the narrow hallway, you lazily changed into the t-shirt Curtis soon handed off to you, tugging it over your dress before sliding your party outfit off underneath the grey cotton, keeping yourself somewhat covered purely because you didn’t wanna end the conversation you and the rest of the boys were trying to wrap up.

“Alright, we should probably let the lady sleep,” Steve spoke, watching closely as every time you blinked, your eyes gradually stayed closed just a little longer, nearly falling asleep against Curtis’ broad shoulder.

“No, no,” you protested, inhaling sharply in an effort to wake up more, “I’m just resting my eyes…”

“Right,” Frank chuckled as they all got up from their comfy seat on the mattress, being too tired to fight it, Curtis gently helped you lay down, tugging the duvet over your curled-up form.

“Hey,” Ransom poked his head into the room as the rest began to filter out, “I thought you might like this,” you were surprised to see him have a small glass of water in his hand for you. Not simply placing it on the bedside table by your head, he kneeled down next to you and held it out, “here,” expecting for you to take it, “I swear, chugging a glass of water helps with the hangover,” sliding his free palm under your head to raise it up.

“Thank you,” you smiled wearily as you slowly accepted it and raised it up towards your lips. 

Noticing that you were only taking a small sip, his fingers found the bottom of the glass and pressed it up further, “all of it,” he tilted it for you to down it all, “or else it doesn’t work.” 

Coughing lightly as you lowed the now empty glass, it left an odd taste in your mouth, though you just summed it up to be the handiwork of some of the strong beverages you had consumed during the night working its way up again. 

“Thanks, Ransom,” you groggily patted his cheek, “you’re so sweet.” 

His eyes flickering over your tired face, smooshed against the pillow, he smirked, “goodnight,” got back up and strolled out past Curtis still lingering in the doorway, arms crossed and watching over you like a guard dog. 

“Night,” you quietly called out after him as you saw his frame disappear towards the furthest room down the hallway. Redirecting your attention back to your friend, you hummed, “go to bed, Curt. You gotta still be super sore from last night.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, so you’re just gonna stand there all night, fall asleep on your feet and act as my sleep paralysis demon for the night?” you joked with half-closed eyes. 

A small laugh bubbled out of him as he finally moved, “sleep well, angel,” he uncrossed his arms and reached out for the doorknob to tug it closed. 

“Goodnight, Curtis,” you snuggled further into the pillow as you felt sleep overtake you like a wave crashing the shore, adding absentmindedly under your breath, “love you.”

“Hmm…” you hazily blinked your heavy lids open, roused by the pinching pressure between your thighs. Looking up at the dimly lit figure, you mumbled fuzzily, “w-what?” unsure if this was real life or a dream as the whole bed spun beneath you and you felt like you were floating. 

“Shh, go back to sleep, angel,” Ransom’s grunt pierced your ears as his palm pressed over the bottom half of your face, silencing any words you might speak, “It’s alright, daddy’s got you,” a shy cry vibrated against his hand as you felt him rock against you, finally noticing fully the unexpected sensation of his thick girth stretching you out, “just be a good girl and lay right there, let me have a little slice of heaven.”

Keeping your exhausted legs spread wide apart, his determined hips acting as a door stop, he moaned quietly, “fuck, it really did do the trick,” he looked down at your dazed form, awake enough to be present for him, but unknowingly sedated enough for you not to fight back, “almost a shame you won’t be able to remember any of this in the morning,” he slid his hand down to squeeze your throat, pinching your rapid pulse and making the world even more blurry, “look at you, fucking out like a perfect little doll. You wanna be doll, huh? My own personal little fucktoy?”

Fighting to keep your eyes open, your whole body rocked at his movements as he frantically picked up his pace, selfishly pounding into you, melting on top of you and pressing your sedated body further into the bed. 

“You know, I barely needed to touch you a second before you soaked my fingers, you clearly want this as much as I do,” he tightened his grip on your throat, “you need this, you need me,” stifled moans flowed from his lips as he unmercifully pounded into you, scratching his own vile itch, “poor you, none of your boyfriends ever touch you properly. That’s just what you need, isn’t it?” he mocked as your fluttering cunt tried to squeeze him out, expelling him from your body, “you just need your tight little pussy to be stretched out? Just need some good dick? Don’t worry, angel,” you vaguely felt his tongue flicker against your slightly numbed skin, “as long as I am here to help, I’ll keep your pussy sore, keep it filled up,” you just managed to catch him growl before you lost the forlorn battle and your body dozed off again. 

Waking up with a low groan, you quickly sprung up, feeling the contents of your stomach fighting their way out. With no time to entertain the surprising presents of Curtis already curled up at the foot of the mattress, you bolted out of bed and ran out the door, thankful for the close proximity to the bathroom as you soon found yourself kneeling in front of the toilet, regretting every sip you had indulged in as they burned your entire chest on their way out again. 

Feeling as your loose hair suddenly got picked up and gently held back, you heard the warm rumble of Curtis’ voice as he said, “wow, okay, alright,” his large palm found your spine, soothingly caressing it as you hurled your guts out, “it’s alright, angel. Just get it all out.”

“Urgh,” you groaned, clutching the cold porcelain as you spat out the fowl tang, “I am never drinking again,” keeping your head over the bowl till you were sure you had gotten it all out. With a heavy sigh, you slumped back, colliding softly with the mass of your friend. 

“You okay?” he asked, lightly running his hands over your goosebump-ridden form. 

“I think so,” you blinked up into his steely eyes, the reddened look to them flying over your exhausted head, “at least I made it to the bathroom this time,” you tried to joke with a half-hearted smile. 

Letting your body weakly droop down, sighing in relief as you felt the cold tile hug your form, you heard Curtis notice, “no, no, you can’t fall asleep out here,” feeling his fingers already slide beneath your body. 

“But it’s so comfortable,” you let out a small winch as he scooped you up into his arms, your frame draping over his strong limbs, and a dull pain stung your core. “Hey, what date is it?” you suddenly asked, trying to make sense of the uncomfortable tingle.

“I-, uh, why?” he thought, carrying you back into Steve’s room, your eyes noticing the other doors down the dark hallway were all open wide, even though it was the middle of the night. 

“No reason, I just think I might be getting my period or something…”

“Miss Y/l/n?” a voice called, though you were a million miles away, “Miss Y/l/n?” 

“Huh?” you blinked, shaking your head slightly as you unsteadily glanced up at the figure, “sorry, yes,” you reluctantly let go of your friend’s hand and rose from the seat you had been waiting in. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Curtis gave your hand one last squeeze, “I’ll wait right here for when you’re done, okay?” 

He and the other guys hadn’t let you out of their sight since the terrifying news had spread like wildfire yesterday morning and rocked the entire campus to its core. 

“Okay,” you nodded weakly, not truly present as you followed the stranger inside. 

Pulling out a chair at the cold table, you sat down and averted your gaze from the walls of the bare conference room provided by the school for the law enforcements to use for their investigation. 

“The detective will be right in, you just sit tight,” the figure spoke before they closed the door behind them, leaving you alone in the makeshift interrogation room. 

You didn’t know how long you were in there, maybe a minute, maybe ten, but soon you heard the door creak open once more and a voice, long forgotten, found your ears, “hello, I’m detective Levinson, I will be conducting this-”

“Ari?” you blinked up at your elder childhood friend in amazement, the nauseating feeling of grief momentarily washing away at his unexpected presence as he sat down opposite to you, “what are you doing here?” your eyes drifted over his informal suit, the jacket missing and the sleeves sloppily rolled up passed his burly forearms, “and when did you stop being a beat cop?” 

“Uh,” he blinked, a solemn expression washing over his stern face, softening it significantly, “around a year ago,” he then sighed deeply and said, “I really hoped there had just been another Y/n Y/l/n here at this school…”

Effectively bringing you back down to earth, “oh, yeah… will this be a problem? Can you not do this if you already know me?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I just-,” his head tilted gently to the side, “this isn’t something I ever wanted you to go through.” 

Sucking in a sharp breath, you nodded shyly, “yeah, well, I am.”

Looking over you a moment, taking in the small changes you had adapted in the years since you had last seen each other, he offered a genuine, “I’m sorry,” and attempted to catch your weary gaze. 

“It’s not your fault,” you glanced down at your hands as your fingers once again began to dig nervously into your skin, leaving angry little half-crescent marks in its wake, “you’re not the one running around murdering students,” you awkwardly attempted to joke.  

Exhaling lowly, he then opened the file in front of him and laid out a small tape recorder in the middle of the table, “are you ready to begin?” 

“Yeah.”

Pressing on one of the side buttons on the recorder, Ari then announced methodically, “can you please state your name for the record?” 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” 

“And for the record, are you speaking to me voluntarily?”

“I am.”

Glancing over the open folder sprawled out in front of him, he asked, “what was your relationship with the victim?” 

“Ransom, he-, um… he was a friend. I honestly didn’t really know him for too long, but he lived with some of my best friends, so it just seemed pretty natural for him to also become a part of our little group, if you’d call it that.” 

“And you last saw Mr Drysdale when?” 

“At the party Saturday night. I crashed at their flat after that, so it was probably early Sunday morning that I saw him last, when he was on his way to bed, I think.” 

“Did anything happen to him that night? Anything unusual? His behaviour? Someone he interacted with? Anything you can think of that stands out?” 

“Uhm,” you thought back, remembering the heated kiss you had shared in the bathroom, though looking back into Ari’s studying eyes, you couldn’t help but lie and say, “no, I don’t think so. It was just a party, you know,” the thought of telling your childhood crush that you drunkenly made out with a guy sent your stomach turning, crushing the truth before it could crawl out. 

“Alright,” he nodded, “well, if you do remember anything, please reach out, we’re running the bulk of the investigation from here, so you know where I’ll be.”

“Still have your number,” you forced an awkward laugh.

“Right,” he sucked in a breath and averted his piercing gaze, “so, uhm, I don’t think I have anything else to ask you right now. Thank you for your cooperation with the investigation.”

“Of course,” you watched as his fingers wrap around the tape recorder, clicking the protruding button and making it stop, “it-, um,” you felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes fell upon you once more, making the polite words seem that much harder to muster, “it really is good to see you again. Nice to see that you’re doing good,” then added jokingly, “that your mom still hasn’t talked you into cutting your hair,” a sincere smile tickled your lips at the mention of the warm woman living next door to your own parents. 

Even though it was clearly forced, your words still conjured a genuine reaction from the guy who used to babysit you, “yeah, no, you know she’s never winning that battle,” he chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “it’s, uh, it’s great to see you as well. You-, um… yeah…” he dropped whatever compliment was on the tip of his tongue and averted his gaze, “I don’t wanna keep you any longer, you can go, you probably have classes to get to.”  

“I actually don’t,” you informed him, though still slowly got up from your seat, “our professors have given us all some time off to-, uh, you know…”

“Yeah…” he nodded understandingly, his vision following your form as you made your way towards the door. 

Pausing just before your fingertips grazed the doorknob, you looked back, timidly chewing on your bottom lip, “hey, Ari?” 

“Yes?” he responded quickly, clearly still completely captivated. 

Finding it difficult to even breathe properly in his presence, especially when those soulful eyes were locked upon yours, you found that your words crumbled before they even got to see the light of day, “I-, um…” then hastily scrambled your brain for a makeshift, “good luck.”

Breathing out a soft smile as he watched you nervously fiddle with the door handle, he said, “thanks, Y/n.” 

It had been Monday morning that a garbage man had found Ransom’s body in a dumpster on the far side of campus. Even though they had tried to contain the news, it still spread like a wildfire, and come lunch that day, it was the only thing any student could talk about. 

The frat quickly got sealed off as an active crime scene as it had been the last place witnesses had seen him alive, forcing the rest of the guys to temporarily bunk up with friends in their dorms. You felt a bit ashamed about the immense relief you felt at that small detail, the comfort of having each one of them fight over who got to stay with you being something you welcomed with open arms. In the end, it was both Curtis and Steve who stayed with you, Natasha giving you the room and staying with her newfound beau in the meantime, giving you the entire space for a while.  

The guys had always been protective of you, but it almost seemed to have grown over the past few gloomy days. Not a second passed by where at least one of them wasn’t at your side, holding you as you cried, walking with you through the crowded campus or just keeping you company, making sure you weren’t alone. You just added it up to be their version of freaking out and buying into the whole conspiracy that it hadn’t been a drug deal gone wrong as so many had assumed of the recently deceased playboy with a penchant for illicit substances, but actually someone on campus, a stone-cold killer masking as just the person next to you in your lit class. 

“Why don’t you go ask him?” 

“Me?” your brows furrowed in Lloyd’s direction, “why me? If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you just go ask him yourself?”

Chiming in, Jake tilted his head, “well, you did say you know the guy.” 

Exhaling lowly, you averted your gaze, your crossed arms tightening over your chest, “yeah, you could certainly say that…”

“So just go, bat your eyelashes at him for a bit and figure out how much he knows,” Lloyd tried to persuade you, though even his ever-present cocky charm couldn’t sway you this time.

Previously assuming that the whole conversation had just gone over Curtis’ head, as he had just quickly sat beside you and stared out the window, he suddenly perked up, “we just-…” he struggled to vocalise, “if it really is someone here on campus… just the thought you sitting in class with them or-, fuck, anything, it just-…” like a magnet, your fingers naturally found his own in a comforting squeeze, “angel, we just wanna keep you safe and the thought of someone like that running around terrorising the school-… just please go figure out if he has a suspect yet. See if he has got any leads.”

From the moment you had said goodbye to the familiar detective, shame about not telling him the whole truth had nearly eaten you alive. You had lied to not only a person you had known your whole life, but also a law enforcer. It was insufferable, like a snowball rolling down a hill and growing bigger and bigger with each accumulated snowflake. 

“Fine,” you cracked, the shameful storm inside your body becoming too much to bear, “I’ll do it.”

“Knock, knock,” you said with a small smile as you pushed the ajar door open completely. 

“Y/n,” Ari’s spine straightened in surprise, his eyes no longer glued to the computer screen before him, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be hungry,” you held up your alibi for coming in the form of a takeout bag, “it’s from this little Indian place downtown,” you shut the door behind you before plopping the crinkly bag down on the table, the warm light from the desk lamp illuminating the brimming containers of curry stacked inside, “you like Indian, right?”

“I-, I do,” he said, still taken aback by the kind gesture, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thought it was the least I could do as a thanks for what you’re doing,” you waved a hand in the direction of the cluttered corkboard on the wall. 

“It’s just my job, you don’t need to thank me,” he said modestly, leaning back in his chair and lending you to spot the silver pen his fingers fiddled with. 

Lowering your gaze to stare at your shoes, you exhaled, “right…”

“So, um,” he filled out the awkward silence, “was there anything else you needed?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes averted, “you’re obviously super busy and here I am just barging in,” your vision finally flickered up to lock with his, already steadfast on you, “I just, uh…” your breaths became more jagged as his sky-like eyes captivated your own, “there was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about, something I wanted to tell you.”

“Alright…” he nodded, listening intently. 

Blowing out a shaky breath, you revealed, “I lied, something did happen that night.”

“Okay,” his brows furrowed, though not as much as you had feared, “what was it?” your anxious brain haven already thought of a million different dramatic punishments he could penalise you with.

“I, uh…” you squeezed your eyes shut nervously, “I kissed him,” your pained voice rushed to force out, “at that party. It was in the bathroom and almost became something else, but, um yeah… we kissed… me and Ransom…” you peaked just one of your eyes open, your tense shoulders nearly pressing against your ears at this point, “I’m really sorry, I just felt like couldn’t tell you something like that, not you. I won’t be arrested for hiding this information, will I?”

“No, no,” Ari quickly rose from his seat, “Y/n, you’re okay,” he stepped closer to you as he attempted to calm your uncalled-for panic, “you won’t be arrested.”

“Oh,” you breathed, “good,” feeling your shoulders begin to drop back down again, “you know how my mind tends to freak out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded softly, “I do…” his words genuine as memories conjured the whisper of a smile to appear upon his lips, “thank you for telling me.”

Awkwardly, you flashed him a tight-lipped smile, grateful that uncomfortable moment had passed, you recalled the other reason for why you had come, “so…”

“So…” he echoed.

“Do you have any leads, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s classified information, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know…” you averted your gaze and scrabbled your brain for what you could do or say to get him to tell you, “it’s just, I’m so scared all the time. The school was always a place that made me feel safe, till now…” although your intentions behind those words weren’t completely truthful, the statement wasn’t that far off, “it was just worth a try asking you.”

Holding your gaze, you could almost see his heartstrings get tugged as his brows quivered in compassion, “I-… I do have something. If you didn’t know, we just finished sweeping the victim’s living quarters, so if they haven’t already been notified, your friends should be able to move back in by tomorrow, but we also found something, not there, but in proximity to the dump site, there was a knife with traces of the victim’s blood on it. It’s in the lab right now as we speak, trying to decipher if there are any identifiable prints on it.” 

“Oh my god…” you felt goosebumps sting at every inch of your skin. 

“You haven’t heard any details about what state his body was found in, have you?” 

“No…” both from avoiding the papers and keeping to your dorm, you might be the only student on campus not aware of how your late friend had died, “he was stabbed?”

“That was decisively what killed him, yeah, but he was brutally beaten before that.”

“Holy shit, that’s-…” you shuttered, your eyes just now noticing the nauseating photos pinned on the board beside you, “fuck… I don’t know how you do this all day, deal with these kinds of things.” 

“It gets easier over time,” he shared, his worried eyes scanning your face a moment before apprehensively uttering, “this might be a really stupid question, but how are you holding up?”

“I-…” you toyed with the thought of lying to him yet again, but then opted to share the truth, “I am not doing so good, to be honest. I could probably count the number of hours I’ve slept in the last few days on one hand, or so I’ve been told. I don’t think it feels like I’ve slept at all, but apparently I have, just a little bit.”

Sucking in a pained breath, he murmured, “I’m sorry. I can help find someone you can talk to, if you want.”

“No, it’s alright,” his kind offer made it easier for you to look away from the horror plastered all over the office walls, “I mean, I’m not alone, that fact has become crystal clear throughout all of this.”

“Yeah, I kinda pieced that together,” he spoke in a much different manner than before, causing your brows to crinkle, “I conducted all the other interviews. It’s nice that you’ve made friends, making the most out of your college experience,” he said in a tone, almost reminiscent of jealousy.  

Averting your eyes, memories you so desperately tried to keep at bay pried their way in and snuffed out the fuming flicker his resentment had ignited, “hey Ari?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know?” you asked wearily. 

“Know what?”

“Did you know all of those years, growing up together?” you lifted your vision once more as he offered you a questioning hum, “did you know that I was in love with you?”

Taken aback, it took a bit before he managed to answer, “no, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me? You just left.” 

“I was getting married, Y/n. What was I supposed to do?” 

“Not fuck the girl you used to babysit,” you shot back coldly, “what even was I to you?”

“I-… I don’t know,” his frustrated words came out breathy, “do you think I planned for any of that to have happened? To sleep with you of all people? I didn’t. But when I came home that summer and saw you again, saw who you had become, I don’t know, everything just changed, you changed. I fully thought that you’d to still be that same little annoying brat you used to be, but you really weren’t. I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’t expect you to suddenly do something like that to me, have that kind of power over me!”

“So, you just decided to break my heart instead? I was mad for you, for as long as I could remember. That summer was the happiest I’d ever been and then you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word. Did you even think to imagine what it was like for me to run around that morning looking for you and instead finding an invitation for your wedding? I had to hear from your fucking parents that you had just come home to prepare things before the big day. You hadn’t even mentioned to me once that you were engaged, or even as much as just in a relationship. Was any of it even real to you or was I just your last bit of fun before you got tied down?”

“It was, Y/n,” he insisted sincerely, “it was the realest thing I’ve ever felt.”

“Then why did you go without as much as a goodbye? You know how much that broke me?”

“Yeah, well you seem to be doing just fine now,” he said pettily. 

“Excuse me? You don’t get to say something like that to me. You were the one who broke my heart, you don’t get to judge how I glued it back together. Just go back home to your wife, why don’t you.”

Suddenly looking back at you in confusion, Ari then illuminated carefully, “Y/n, I’m not married.”

“What?” you blinked. 

“I mean, I know you weren’t there that day, but I thought my mom at least had told you,” the gears turning inside of him were nearly visible to the naked eye, “I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What? Why?”

Biting his tongue as he held your eye, he then exhaled, “because I didn’t think I should get married if I was in love with someone else.”

Sucking in a stunned breath, you saw tears cloud your vision, “b-but… you never even called…”

“I know I didn’t,” he concurred heavily, his eyes unable to look away from your glossy ones. Feeling as if you might faint, you saw his woeful vision flicker down towards your lips, “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 

But just as you saw him slowly inch his face closer and closer to yours, a sharp intake of air stung your lungs as you raised a hand up as a barricade, “I can’t…” too scared of history repeating itself, “we can’t…”

Sighing deeply, his eyes traced the tear that rolled down your cheek, “I know…”

You had just been helping the guys move back into the frat. That was all you had been doing. One moment you were all laughing, actually having a normal and pleasant moment for once, and the next, two officers were barging down the door and reading Lloyd his rights. 

You’d nearly lost it completely and Curtis had to hold you back so that you didn’t go scratch one of the officer’s eyes out. The man in the cuffs however took it with style, only trying to break through your hazy to let you know that he would be fine and for the others to take care of you, after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo down to the station, although those times it had only been for petty crimes like bar room brawls and such. 

“But I mean, how did it even happen?” you thought out loud a while later, the miranda rights still ringing in your ears like a triggering song you just couldn’t get out of your head, “that’s what my mind keeps going back to,” you had finally calmed down after what felt like forever of the guys talking out of marching down to the station to do something, anything to get Lloyd out. Completely powerless, you sat curled up at the end of the couch as words flowed from your exhausted lips, “how could someone like him be killed? He was such a nice guy.” 

Not being able to stand it any longer, Curtis pipped up from the armchair on the other side of the living room, “no, he really wasn’t,” your bolstering words about the deceased being too much for him to take without cracking, “he was a rich creep and everyone knew it,” frustratingly, he gesticulated, “with everything that he did to you, how can you just sit there and say that he was a nice person? The guy drugged you and violated you in your sleep for fuck sake!” 

The room went dead quiet as soon as those words left his lips. 

“…what are you talking about?” your voice no higher than a whisper as you watched your burly friend shrink in regret. “Curtis,” you repeated more sternly this time as he didn’t offer an explanation, “what do you mean? What did you do?” your voice broke as thoughts about if Lloyd’s arrest hadn’t been a misunderstanding after all entered your mind. 

“You can’t tell her,” Frank shot a glare at the fighter, “we had a deal.” 

“Yeah, well that was before Lloyd got fucking arrested!” Jake chimed in, panic shining clear through in his tone, “she’s a part of this, has been since the very beginning. She has a right to know.” 

Finding your wide eyes in the crowd, Curtis asked you wearily, “you really wanna know what happened that night?” hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you gave him a small nod in confirmation, “fine, I’ll tell you.”

…

“Is she okay?” Curtis pushed the ajar door open further to ask, haven, on his way to the bathroom,  caught sight of an out of breath Ransom tugging the covers back over your passed out form. 

The head of the cashmere-clad man snapped up at the sign of company, the sudden alarm that began to bloom on his features was quickly drowned out by his usual arrogant air, “yeah, man,” he shot back defensively, rushing to get out of the room, “she’s fine,” sounding like it had been a completely crazy question to ask. 

Furrowed brow staying put, Curtis uttered slowly, “alright, but I think I’m just gonna check myself, if you don’t mind.”

“I said she’s fine!” Ransom slammed the door shut behind him, prohibiting the man now only inches from him from entering, “just go back to your own room!”

Worry and suspicion only growing at the obvious fibs, Curtis demanded, “what were you doing in there? What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he scoffed back. 

“What did you do to her?” Curtis took a looming step closer just as their raised voices began to stir some of the other slumbering residents.

“I didn’t do a thing,” he cockily dared a chuckle, “calm down.”

“I will not fucking calm down,” Curtis barked back before attempting to call to you through the closed door, “angel, you okay?”

Leaning against the wall beside his own room, Jake rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he groaned, “guys, can you not yell in the middle of the night? Some of us are kinda trying to sleep here.”

Frank, as well haven appeared, seemed a little more alert at the sudden commotion in the hallway, “hey, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on,” their suspicious friend waved a hand, “Curtis is just being a little bitch and freaking out for no reason,” the ostentatious gesture granted the opposing man an opportunity to slip past and enter the room.

Nearly kicking the door down, Curtis rushed to your side, examining your unconscious form with worried eyes, “angel?” the dim lights streaming in from the hallway just barely letting him notice how wrinkled and haphazard the t-shirt he’d lent you just a few hours before was on you. 

“Jesus, just let her sleep, dude.”

Ignoring Ransom’s words of warning, Curtis tried once more, “Y/n?” touching your skin lightly before giving you a gentle shake, “come on, wake up for me, baby,” his heart nearly beat out of his chest as he unsuccessfully tried to stir you, the shallow rise and fall of your abdomen not granting him as much comfort as it should have. 

Nearing the end of the hall, Frank asked once more, “what’s going on?” side-eyeing Ransom warily, “is she okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” the trust fund kid scoffed.

“The fuck she is,” Curtis’ head whipped back in the direction of Ransom’s silhouette in the doorway. Getting back up on his feet, his sharp intakes of air causing his shoulders to rise, he stormed back out and demanded, “what did you do? Why were you in here and why the fuck is she not waking up?”

“Did you not see how much she had to drink tonight?” Ransom defensively gestured to your passed-out form on the narrow bed, “I was just checking up on her,” and with a heavy sigh abandoned the argument entirely and descended the stairs. 

Catching Curtis’ arm just in time to stop him from storming down after the man at the centre of the quarrel, Frank tried to catch the darting eyes of his friend as he asked firmly, “Curtis, what’s going on?”

“I saw him in there, hovering above her like a creep.”

Already worried eyes suddenly growing in alarm, “he was in there?” Frank quickly shared a panicked look with Jake, both now sharing the same inkling of what horrible thing had occurred, “alone with her?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Frank gasped, “did you say she’s not waking up? She is still breathing though, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s just out cold. Why?”

“Oh my god…” Jake shuttered, his interrupted slumber now long forgotten.

“What? What is it? What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Exhaling lowly, Frank carefully began to explain, “Curtis, you know that my sister goes to Bayshore, right?”

“Um, sure, yeah?” unsure as to why that fact was significant.

“Well, she told me about this student who overdosed after being drugged and raped. The guy was apparently caught and everything but just came from a wealthy enough family to not only never be convicted, but also keep the news out of the papers. Curtis, that’s where Ransom transferred from.”

Seeing nothing but red, Curtis stormed down the stairs. On his determined path to the kitchen where the object for his bubbling rage now stood, leisurely sipping from a glass of water. Curtis narrowly caught sight of Lloyd as he finally stumbled through the entrance from his drawn-out merriment, uttering a hushed apology to the bulky frame of Steve on the couch for the way he had carelessly slammed the front door shut behind him.

Only rolling his eyes at the sight of Curtis, Ransom didn’t even lower his glass as the fuming figure neared, “dude, I already told you, I didn’t do a thing-” though the rest of his provoking words got squashed as Curtis’ fist suddenly collided with his jaw, swiftly grabbing onto his soft sweater before he could crumble like the shattered glass now scattered across the cool tile, “what the fuck!”  water splashing onto both of their feet. 

“What did you give her?” Curtis barked, his fingers digging into the intricate, stained knit so hard that they threatened to poke through to the other side. 

“Give who what?” appalled glare piercing as he fought against the hold. 

“Y/n!” he shook him heatedly, “what did you give her?”

“I didn’t give her shit, man,” Ransom just managed to spit out before white knuckles collided with his face once more. 

“Did you touch her? Because I swear to fuck, if you laid even as much as one finger on her, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, I see,” he actually dared to chuckle, a bit of crimson already staining the pearly whites he flashed, “you’re jealous that you didn’t get with her tonight.”

Landing another raging blow, Curtis yanked him in close and growled, “you shut up and answer my question! Did you touch her?”

Scoffing through his laboured groans of agony, Ransom finally disclosed smugly, “of course, I did, man. She’s been all over me all night long, begging for me to give it to her good.”

The rest of the frat haven now clustered in the kitchen as well, staying in the periphery, Frank accused, “what did you give her? Was it the same as the girl you killed back at Bayshore?”

The deep-pocketed man’s eyes flickered over Curtis’ shoulder, bruises blooming and swelling up his vision, “excuse me?” 

“The rape victim that overdosed at your old school?” the bridge of Frank’s nose twitched in fury, “it was you that killed her, wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t do anything of the sort, all I did was show those girls a good time, it’s not my fault some can’t keep up.”

“Is that what you think happened tonight?” Curtis hauled him against the fridge, gaining the man’s attention once more, “you call assaulting Y/n a good fucking time?”

Keeping his head held high, Ransom slurred, “what are you ashamed you’re not man enough to rough your girl up a bit and give her what she really likes?”

Huffing like a bull, he uttered, “she does not like it like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me why I had her moaning the way I did, dripping down on ol’ Steve’s bed like a cheap whore. Kind of a shame that she won’t remember any of it in the morning, just hope I fucked her good enough that at least some part of her won’t forget…”

…

“Oh my god…” you shuttered, unable to look any of them in the eye, “oh my god,” your palm shot up to clasp over your lips to choke the shaky cry that forced its way out, “I thought-…” vision darting everywhere and nowhere at the same time, “I thought it had been a dream,” tears streamed down your ghostly face as the hazy nightmare suddenly came into focus, “oh my god! I-… I knew him,” you jaggedly tried to piece it all together as vile stung in the back of your throat, “he was-, he was my friend. I hadn’t known him that long, but he was my friend. I-… he wasn’t just some dangerous stranger in the back of an ally threatening to kill me, he was my friend.”

…

The incoherent screams of Curtis slowly subsisted as his rampant blows finally slowed down. Slowly backing up, chest heaving, horror took over his eyes as he saw how far he had been pushed, watching as blood bubbled out of Ransom’s mouth, guggling his words.

“Just you fucking wait till my family finds out,” he weakly continued his threats from his wrecked position on the tiled floor, “do you have any idea how much power money gives you? I can squash you all like little bugs, ruin any chance you might have of a pathetic future and keep angel all to myself.”

Unable to look away, Steve suddenly uttered as Curtis shakily retreated into the shadows, “…guys, we have to call an ambulance.”

Whipping his head around, Jake protested, “no, don’t!” ready to swat away any phone that might be raised, “he’s right. He has the upper hand no matter if we get him to a hospital or not.”

“So, what do we do? Look at him,” Steve woefully gestured to the beaten playboy crumbled on the floor, “he’s dying. We can’t just leave him here!”

“No…” Lloyd sighed, his demeanour seeming surprisingly calm and level-headed under the circumstance, “but we can use what little time we have left before the sun comes up to our advantage…” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Frank’s brows furrowed frightfully. 

In a wide arc around Ransom’s broken form, Lloyd made his way over to one of the kitchen counters and pulled open a drawer, “he said it himself,” he exhaled lowly as he accepted his fate, “he is more than capable of making not only angel’s life hell, but also all of ours,” his tone cold, he riffled through the utensils, “from where I’m standing, there’s only one way for us to get out of this with minimal casualties,” and fished out a knife, the steel reflecting in the low light seeping in through the other room. 

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve gasped, “we’re not murdering him!” 

“So you’d rather try and explain his corpse just lying here in our kitchen? This way we get the upper hand, we speed up the process and use the remainder of the night to our advantage till the rest of campus wakes up, hide him somewhere else, somewhere he won’t be found,” Lloyd stressed, “we have to kill him, it’s the only way.” 

“Shit dude…” Frank breathed, he and the rest realizing that he was right, “where would we even hide him?”

After only pondering it a second, Jake pipped up, “it’s trash day tomorrow,” tensely sharing glances with the rest, “if we get him to one of the big dumpsters on the other side of campus, drop him in there, no one will know! And even if they do eventually discover parts of him out on some dump, they won’t be able to get anything off of him anyways at that point.” 

“I-…” Curtis’ shaky voice finally filled the room, guilt seeping through in his brassy timbre as he asked what no one else would, “…who’s gonna do it?” 

Not letting the others even consider that weight, Lloyd swiftly declared, “I’ll do it.”

“What?” the trembling fighter’s eyes finally lifted.

“If they actually do somehow manage to nail us for this, it should be me that goes down for it,” he stated deliberately, “always knew I’d go to prison at some point just like my old man, this way it wouldn’t be for anything stupid.” 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[hanasnx]

❝ one more night. ❞

── ex-bf!anakin skywalker x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 4k SUMMARY: anakin can’t accept the fact that you and him split, so he shows up at your door in the middle of the night. NOTES: repost. WARNINGS: prompt | angst but its not like super painful its like an argument | anakin being fucking toxic <3 | and reader also being pretty toxic too <3 | anal fingering | vaginal fingering | a lil brat taming | p in v | degradation | unprotected sex | lil bit of double penetration.

ANAKIN SKYWALKER can’t sleep. Eyes wide open, staring emotionless into the ceiling. Blindly, he reaches for his com-link, rifling around discarded trash and dirty laundry to find it in the pocket of some pants he wore earlier. There’s nothing for him, no messages. He checks the time, and raises himself to sit on the edge of the mattress. 

You aren’t having the best of luck with sleep either, laying on your side, your hands tucked underneath your pillow. Until you hear a banging on your door. Not a knock, a barrage. It alerts you, jumping out of bed onto your feet so you can check your Ring camera. A familiar face greeting your sights, and his intense, furrowed gaze looks into the lense as if he can sense you’ve noticed him. You hurry over, wrapping yourself in a robe to conceal your coincidentally skimpy pajamas. 

A million things run through your mind: What could he want? Why is he here? What if it’s an emergency? 

As soon as your doors slide open, he barges in. Electricity is in the air, you can feel it prickle your skin until your hairs stand on end. 

“Anakin? What the hell? It’s three in the morning!” You’re upset with his sudden appearance, the way he passes you like he’s looking for something, how belligerent he’s acting. 

“I came for my stuff.” he responds, tossing the statement at you like you should’ve known, like he shouldn’t have to explain himself. Always the same Anakin, pretending the galaxy revolves around him. 

“Your stuff?” you parrot incredulously, hounding him as he invites himself further into your home. “At this hour? Do you have no common courtesy?” Another aspect about him you didn’t miss. 

After he, seemingly, can’t find what he’s searching for, he rounds on you and you narrowly avoid bumping into him. Inches apart, his glare bores into you, “Where is it?” 

“The box?” You gaze up at him through raised brows in disbelief, “You mean the box of your shit I told you to come pick up weeks ago? The last box of all your crap you left here that I was sick of looking at? I threw it the fuck out, Anakin, what do you think?” 

This anger coming off of him, had to be artificial. Exacerbated by his own overthinking, instead of any valid, naturally occurring emotion. Jedi aren’t allowed “attachments” including belongings, so what difference does it make if some of his things were discarded? He should’ve come when he was summoned, you were more than patient. Besides, there was nothing actually valuable in that box, he’d already moved out for the most part. It was all the standard staying-over paraphernalia. Yellow toothbrush, medical derm shampoo, a few pairs of his sleepwear… a necklace he made for you. It’s not like you were going to continue wearing it! 

Your former lover does not seem to care for your reply at all, eyes widening, flying into a rage, jabbing his finger into the space between you two. “You had no right—!”

“Shut up!” you laugh, hopelessly wry, dropping the act, “You don’t actually care about something like that, you’re just looking for an excuse to fight!” As usual. 

“That was my stuff, and you trash it?” He juts his chin, towering over you. “Fuck off.” 

It shouldn’t have, but you’re taken aback by the seething words. So much so you don’t register him bumping your shoulder when he side-steps you. 

The sound of disheveling snaps you out of your stupor, witnessing Anakin snatching up whatever’s in reach to throw it to the floor. 

“Anakin!” 

“Let’s see how you like it!” he sneers, tugging books off shelves to fall to the floor haphazardly, bending pages and creasing spines. Any trinkets that get caught in the crossfire, hit the ground and are kicked out of his way as he moves. 

“You are such a fucking asshole! Stop!” 

Ignoring you, he shoves a drawer stack of recorded sound bytes, your music. The drawers lay ajar, spilling the contents out, and you have to step over them to get to Anakin. 

“You’re having a fucking temper tantrum like a fucking toddler! I’m talking to you!” You latch onto his bicep, attempting to yank his hand off your belongings. It’s successful for a second, but he slips that arm from your grasp to squeeze your wrist, catching your other one to hold them both in his one hand. His other continues the work, knocking around to disturb anything it touches. Helpless to his iron grip, you’re pulled with him when he goes to your collection of rare, empty, glass perfume bottles. Spindly, frail, and beautiful, they are far too special to mess around with. 

“Anakin. Anakin, I’m warning you.” Your tone shifts to plead, even if disguised as a threat. 

For the first time since he began this rampage, he glances at you, and you see the grave sincerity in his eyes. It sends a chill right down your spine, and you tug away from him uselessly. You watch as he unlatches the framing, and your heart beats harder. 

“You used to make me keep an eye out for these things.” he muses with contempt. You remain eerily still, worried that if you jostle him too much, the likeness of a bull-in-a-china-shop will become your immediate reality. “I’d check storefronts, thrifts, and individual sales anywhere I went.” 

His hand reaches in, delicately plucking the thin and brittle bottle from its place. 

“This one. I got you this one.” he tells you. You swallow, overwhelmed. Gingerly, his fist encloses over it, engulfing more than half in his large palm. All he has to do is squeeze, and it’d crack. 

“Look, look,” you murmur, conceding. “I’m sorry, okay? I get it now. You’re right.” Even though you had a violent, childish, dramatic way of showing it.

“I gave this to you, how come you didn’t get rid of this too?” 

“I shouldn’t have thrown out your stuff, I understand the feeling. That’s what you were trying to tell me, right?” 

Your gaze travels across the room, your stuff strewn about the floor, but nothing is actually damaged. Just messy. Nothing is lost. Unlike his carelessly dumped box. A guilt weighs down your chest at the realization. 

His hold softens on both the bottle and your wrists. When you meet his eyes, you notice how he hasn’t stopped looking at you. “I apologize, again. I did it because I was mad at you.” you add, stronger this time. Your confession is accepted, and without wavering from you, he replaces the bottle inside the casing, shutting it gently. From the heat of the moment, you’re panting, and your robe had fallen off your shoulder, revealing a strap of your pink top. He regards it with interest, drawing you to him by your wrists. A finger from his metal hand comes up— and you follow it curiously— to burrow underneath the strap, snapping it against you. 

“Ow,” you emit, glaring at him, but it softens as soon as you register the thick tension between you two. How the two of you take turns glancing at each other’s lips. 

“I was mad at you too.” he admits under his breath. You flash a confused frown, only because kissing him is solely on your mind. “I didn’t come pick it up because I was mad at you. Felt like,” he sighs, that finger tracing up the column of your neck, to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, and toying with the shell of it. “like if I got it, then it’d really be over. Us.” 

You tilt your head, slumping in place. “But we are over, Ani.” 

He flinches at the sound of that exclusive nickname rolling off your tongue as easy as it used to. “Don’t say that. Don’t say it.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he shakes his head. “Makes it real.” 

“Take a look around.” you command, and he does as you say. Your home in disarray because of him. “This is what we do to each other. It’s not good, we’re not good for each other.” 

There’s something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope to hear that could be your only reason for ending things. “You miss me.” 

Your lips press into a thin line, but you cannot lie to him, and nod. “I do.”

A shift, a magnetism. Like he’s flipped a switch, a charm you couldn’t resist then and can’t resist now. Every time you’re in the same room with him, he instills his every move with a sensuality and passion you want to rip apart. 

He pulls you to him by your wrists that have remained in his custody, the air hitching in your throat. “You want me.” 

“I do,” you breathe, and you both meet in the middle, lips colliding and opening instantly to meld tongues. As if no time had passed. He releases your limbs, and you use them to wrap around his neck, pressing yourself to him faithfully. Swallowing your sounds as he draws your hips to his, close enough to feel his half hard length hanging underneath the thin material of his clothes. 

It’s unceremonious, it’s discordant, but somehow feels so right, so good, so unapologetically Anakin. The unarticulated traits you loved about him. A power between the two of you that you both fight to take, devouring each other, sloppily fucking mouths with tongues and sucking on the slimy muscle. He’s gross about how much he demands from you using no words at all, sticking his tongue practically down your throat, and palming the back of your head to make sure you can’t escape. 

His other hand slides to get a handful of ass, before plunging in between to massage your asshole with his fingers. A slow build up was never Anakin’s strongest suit, but this time you didn’t mind it. Already slick in your shorts. 

“One more night.” Anakin speaks against your lips, a beg. “I’ll do anything you want, for one more night with you.”

You don’t need to be convinced, confirming hastily, “One more night.”

He stoops, and without skipping a beat you obey, jumping into his arms so he can pick you up. Wrapped around him as he’s inbound to the nearest surface. 

You cup his face in your hands, cold nimble fingers on his heated skin as you suck on his plump lower lip. Dragging it out to let it bob back, you lick at it like a signature, and he opens his mouth to allow you back in, lapping at him like you need to taste every corner of him. His hand on the wall trails to guide him, avoiding bumping into anything before he reaches the counter of your kitchen bar. He sets you down, your bare thighs against the marble so you hiss. 

Unperturbed, he snaps your robe apart and down. Your sweet little silken matching set. Pink pajamas, cropped, short and thin enough to see your erect nipples poking through. Anakin moistens his lips, eating you alive with his gaze. “I gave these to you too.” he muses in pleasant surprise, he had his suspicions before only seeing a glimpse of them but now it’s undeniable. “Didn’t wanna get rid of these either? S’almost like you don’t wanna let go. I give you the best gifts, don’t I?” His confidence annoyed you and you pushed at his chest. He snickers, a sick sense of superiority overtaking him. “I’ve got another gift for you right here, baby.” 

Cut off before you could speak, a moan spills from your mouth as his hand contacts the heat between your legs, dulling that ache for a sweet second. He undulates his digits, his hand finding its home, where it belongs: on your sex, dampening your little shorts with your generous slick. His head dips down, nuzzling your tits through the soft material. Loose from a bra, he lets them fall over his face, and you cup them around him. He hums in approval, adding fervor in his movements to shake his head in between your breasts, nipping your buds, and rubbing your clit. The way his sandy curls bob, his content smile against you, makes you stifle a snicker to yourself. This playful side of him, his lack of self awareness when around you is what you missed. 

Your arousal grows more painful by the second though, and you rush. “Anakin, get my shorts off,” 

He emits a noise in response, biting down on the side of your tit as if to take your flesh with him as he pulls back. 

Focused on his task, he directs you, manhandling you to lean back over the cliff of the counter, picking your sides up one by one to slide the shorts off and down. You kick them off your ankles, the coolness meeting your hot sex, fogging up the surface. No time to dwell on it, two of Anakin’s fingers explore your entrance. Dipping the pads to gather pre-cum, using it to glide around your folds. You jump, sensitive from all of these colliding feelings, worsening when he stimulates your bare clit. Bracing on the counter edge behind you. 

“Have you had anybody else since we split?” he asks, as if this is a great time to interrogate you on the flavors you’ve tried since breaking up with Anakin. Ever the selfish man, but like a fool you oblige him. 

“It’s none of your business—“ You interrupt yourself, yelping as he pinches your clit, rolling it between the tips of his flesh digits. 

“Oh, yeah? I’m the one about to fuck you, and it’s none of my business?” 

He seeks to tame you, and since you crave him more than anything else you bend to his will. “Look,” you stumble, your most vulnerable part susceptible to anything he sees fit. The thought thrilled you. “yes, okay? I did. I tried to screw you out of my system.” 

A depraved smile stretches onto his face, and to reward you for your honesty he circles your bud soothingly. “I see it didn’t work. Take your top off.” 

Like his bitch, you do as he says. 

“Play with them for me, princess, I love seeing those pretty tits.” 

Your countenance twists, cupping your chest, pinching your nipples in between the webs of your fingers. Abruptly, he plunges his two fingers inside, but you accept them with little to no effort. 

Usually, he’d take his time edging you, but judging by the strain in his pants, he doesn’t want to wait too long. Digits railing and curling inside you, showing you how loyal he is to making you cum. How he never forgot exactly how to finger you, touch all those spots you can never reach. Ones that nobody else can seem to find. 

Your orgasm didn’t need much else, crashing over you as soon as that coil in your belly snapped, making a mess on your nice counter. That high lingers, while Anakin undresses. As disgusting as it is, he gathers up some of your finish to lube himself up, recycling fluids and not bothering with a condom. He’s had you bareback countlessly before, why should this time be any different? You can barely hold it together, scooting closer to him, parting your legs further, presenting yourself to him like the greedy slut you are. 

“Can’t wait to fuck you, angel, you have no fucking idea. You know how many times I’ve fucked my fist to you? Fucked girls pretending they were you? Can’t even fool myself, no one’s got a tighter pussy than you.” 

His words make your eyes roll into the back of your head, and you stroke his ego in a whine while he aims, pumping his hard length in his hand, nudging your hole a couple times. “Nobody fucks me like you can, Anakin. Nobody.” His head pushes inside, and sinks further in, both of you groaning in unison. Perfectly filled, and perfectly sheathed. A lock and key, and he basks in the moment. 

“Fuck, baby,” 

His dick has always been formidable, but you wonder if the months you’ve spent apart has made your pussy forget how to accommodate him as comfortable as you used to. 

Like a ragdoll, you adhere to his every whim. Naked chest to chest, his thick arms pin you close, hugging you around your torso, while yours lay lazily around his neck. Hooded, lustful gazes meeting each other, his hand fisting in your hair to command the maintaining of your eye contact, while he slowly thrusts inside you. 

“Nobody’s my little fucktoy like you are.” His intense eyes are all you’re lost in when he spits such filthy words at you. You can only moan in response as he rolls his herculean body, curling up to hit your g-spot every time. 

“I don’t care what I am.” you say without thinking, your pussy slurping him up, taking whatever he gives you. “As long as I’m with you.” 

This obsessive, toxic necessity for each other, makes Anakin’s dick twitch, and he increases his pace, desperate for more from you. Hearing those devoted words while you look into his dilated eyes, it’s like a binding spell. He prays it works. 

Tangled in each other, he manages to bring his fingers up from your torso to his mouth, sucking two of them in to coat them in saliva. An image you don’t get tired of, entranced, as he looks deep into you, mouthing his own digits. He uses them to traverse your tailbone, dipping down into the crevice to find your bare asshole, circling it. Involuntarily, you clench down on his member, and he grins. “Bet you didn’t admit you like this to the other guys you’ve fucked.” 

He’s right, you’ve never been as sexually adventurous with anyone as you are with Anakin. He brings out such a disgusting side of you. Things that normally shame you, such as your own pleasure and fantasies, lose their distressing power as soon as Anakin’s in the picture. Having such a strong personality next to you, it inspires you, makes you feel safer when admitting your most base desires. “What? Anal?” The words punctuated with a gasp as the rim of your asshole reaches his knuckles. 

“No,” he laughs at you, like you’ve fallen into a trap, “your ex-boyfriend fucking you stupid. So bad you let him do anything he wants to you.” 

It’s true. You can hardly comment on it though, as he drills into both your holes, thrusting in tandem, until his bottoms out in both, until you swear the tips of his fingers and cock are grazing each other through your insides. Limp, you lull, swaying like waves of water pass around you. The sensation of bleak emptiness after each pulling out, only to be rudely awakened with each meeting of your bodies. Both of your holes loosen from lust to welcome in as much as possible. Anakin loves your perfect, little asshole— and shows it by fucking it raw with whatever he’s got. 

“Getting soaked.” The noise of it overwhelming your senses, your entire being just a mass of tingles, heat, and want. “Taking me so good, angel,” he praises, his fist in your hair tightening to sting, reminding you to force your eyes open, to hold his gaze while he abuses your holes. 

The position suffices, holding each other close, intimately, until he needs more room. Effortlessly, he lifts you up, biceps swelling while he hooks underneath your thigh and stabilizes you by your waist. He pins you up onto the wall, no space between the two of you as he buries his face into your neck, scraping his teeth against your flesh, panting through his nose as he fucks you. 

Senseless sounds tumble out of you, pleasure coursing through you like blood in your veins. Whenever you and Anakin fuck it’s like you’re revitalized, nothing else matters, it falls away. Nothing compared to the way he makes you feel when he’s inside you. Sucking on your earlobe, you hear how he grunts, the noise of your conjoined bodies flooding the rest of the room. 

A desperation instills within him, chasing his finish, which means his grip digs into you like you’ll run away if he doesn’t keep you here. The back of your head bumps against the wall, and you fix it there while he rails you. Your nails raking down his corded back. His muscle strains against you, spasming from the effort of holding you up, but this angle is too good for either of you to pass up. Besides, you love the way he looks when he’s showing off like this. 

“You feel so good, you feel so fucking good.” 

“Are you gonna cum in me? I want you to. Please? Please, fuck—“

“Still a slut for my cum.” he scoffs. 

You reach in between the heat and the sweat of your bodies, so you can rub your clit, chasing your own high, near tears from waiting. 

“Look at me, angel, I want you to look at me when you do it.” he tells you, backing up so he can see your face when you orgasm. Your brows upturn, whining in frustration. 

The dam breaks, and your walls flutter from the stimulation. Like a good girl, you fight to keep your eyes open, trembling as your core tightens instinctually around him. Euphoria conquers you, and it makes quick work of Anakin, hot spurts of his finish coating your insides with milky white, oozing around his length out of you. 

You slump, as he carefully lets you slide down onto your feet, but he’s the one keeping you upright. Breathing hard together, he rests his forehead onto your shoulder, planting leisured kisses where he can reach. 

“Maybe this can be a regular thing.” he murmurs against you, and you side eye him. “I make a shitty boyfriend, but I’m a hell of a lay.”

Early next morning, Anakin awakes to the sound of your shower running, and your awful singing. It puts an amused smile on his face. He plans to join you, but since he hasn’t eaten since yesterday, his stomach growls. It alerts him to rifle through your fridge for breakfast. In the kitchen, he steps over his discarded clothes, and no sooner had he picked out a bottle of protein yogurt from the shelf, had your doorbell rang. 

He gulps down some drink, but sets it down so he can pick up his pants, slipping them on. They’re black, thin, and hang low on his hips. It does the trick, trekking the cold floor with his bare feet to slide open the front door. 

A confused face greets him, and he waits for the stranger to speak first. 

“Uh… hello. Sorry to bother you, I didn’t realize she had…” He clears his throat, while Anakin stands unyielding to allow him inside. He looks Anakin up and down, avoiding his glare, “… roommates. Can you get her? I want to ask her to brunch.” 

“She’s not coming.” Anakin responds, and closes the door to the stranger’s protest. A friend of yours, perhaps. A special friend that you no longer need. 

If Anakin knows anything about the company you keep, they’re like him: obsessive. So he abandons his hunger, to invite himself to your shower. To distract you from that guy’s incessant knocking, or countless ringing tele-calls intending to interrogate you. 

Anakin keeps you to himself in the shower, for a little while longer, somehow convincing you to let him fuck you “just one more time.” 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Dirty Little Stories » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky finds out what a dirty girl Y/N is when he finds her Tumblr blog.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, metal arm kink, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut), pet names (doll, babydoll, doll face)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

Getting used to modern day technology was difficult for Bucky, but with help from you, it was easier than he thought. Now he’s able to talk, text, and do whatever he wants now. As of right now, Bucky was catching up on stuff he missed throughout the years. As he was scrolling through Google, he came across a link that’s connected to Tumblr so he tapped on it to see what it was. That’s when he came across something interesting. He found a blog that has particularly dirty things, meaning the person who runs the blog writes a lot of smut. Bucky tapped on one of the links that took him to one of the stories. His mind was nearly blown when he finished it. He went back to read another one and another one. That’s when something caught his eye. He recognized the name of the person’s blog. The name “Y/N” was displayed in the bio of the blog. It didn’t take long for Bucky to figure out that the blog is ran by his girlfriend, who isn’t as innocent as he thought she was.

“Oh you’re in so much trouble when you get home, doll.” Bucky says to himself.

Bucky continued to read the stories you have posted on your blog. He didn’t like the fact that you were writing and fantasizing about other men, but he will admit that your writing is very well written.

“Bucky, I’m home!” Your voice echoed through the apartment.

You kicked the door shut with your foot and went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Bucky shut his phone off and put it in his pocket, making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky kisses your lips. “How was the store?” He asks.

“It was alright. It wasn’t as crowded as last week.” You tell him. “Anything interesting happened here?” You asked.

“Not really.” He starts. “I did come across something interesting.” He says, leaning against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was it?” You asked, putting something in the refrigerator.

“Have you heard of something called Tumblr?” He asks.

You stopped in your tracks, nearly dropping the gallon of milk in your hands.

“I- uhh may have came across it a couple times. Why?” You say nervously.

“Well, I seen this blog on there and this person writes stories that are sexual.” He says.

“Oh, th-that’s cool.” You say with a stutter.

“The person also has the same first name as you.” He says.

Your eyes widened. Bucky noticed how you went quiet. He pushed himself off the counter and approached you. Your breathing got heavy when you felt his presence behind you. Bucky’s body was against your back. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his body and the counter. You shivered when you felt his breath against your neck.

“Is there something you want to tell me, doll?” Bucky asks, whispering in your ear.

“N-No.” You say.

“Really? Cause it sounds like you do.” He says.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” You say, playing dumb.

“Don’t lie to me, babydoll. You exactly know what I’m talking about.” He says.

You gasped when you felt his bulge against your ass. It took everything in you to not give in and tell him that you’re the one writing those stories.

“I think…” Bucky’s right hand slides down the front of your body, stopping on your clothed pussy. “You’re the one who’s writing those dirty stories.” He says, applying pressure to your clit.

“It’s me! I’m the one who’s writing them!” You blurted out, not being able to take it anymore.

“I would’ve never thought that my doll has such a dirty mind.” He says with a chuckle.

Bucky spun you around and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed causing you to bounce a couple times. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your legs were dangling from it. His metal fingers tilted your head up so you were looking into his eyes that were once a beautiful blue which now were darker.

“I should punish you for being such a dirty girl, but instead, I’m going to have my fun with you.” He says.

You nodded. Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your lacy bra to him. He pushed you back so you were laying on the bed. He leaned over you, his dog tags dangling in your face. He placed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasped when you felt his teeth graze your skin. He bit down hard enough to create a hickey. His hand blindly found its way to your back and expertly unclasping your bra, discarding it somewhere in the room. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples. You let out a moan when you felt his metal fingers pinch your nipple, sending a new sensation through your body. He moved his lips further down your body, stopping at the waistband of your leggings. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs, along with your soaked panties. He got on his knee next to the bed and spread your legs open, displaying your wetness to him. You moaned when you felt his fingers rub in between your wet folds.

“So wet for me.” Bucky says.

He moved his face closer to your pussy. His tongue slid in between your folds, moaning at your taste against his tongue. His tongue circled around your clit a few times before he latched his lips on it and began to suck on it. Your hands flew down to his head, tugging at his hair.

“Oh my god, yes!” You moaned, threw your head back in pleasure.

If you knew one thing about Bucky, it’s that he knows how to eat pussy. He took your pleasure seriously.

You were caught off guard when one of his metal fingers slid past your entrance. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans fell from your lips. The cool metal of his fingers against your walls felt better than any sex you have ever used. Bucky took his lips off your clit, but keeping his metal fingers inside of you, moving them at a painfully slow pace.

“When were you going to tell me about those dirty little stories of yours? Huh, doll?” Bucky asks.

“I-I don’t know.” You say.

Bucky stopped his movements with his fingers causing you to let out a frustrated whine. He chuckled at your frustrated state as he stood up. You watched as he took off his shirt causing you to lick your lips. You leaned up, touching his perfectly sculpted body. Bucky stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

“No touching, doll face.” He let go of your wrist. “Turn around and bend over the bed.” He orders.

You did as you were told and bent over the bed. You the sound of his belt hitting the floor causing you to look over your shoulder. You watched as he took off his jeans and boxers. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard cock.

“Face forward.” Bucky turns your head forward. “Spread ‘em.” He says, tapping your inner thigh.

You spread your legs apart, giving Bucky more access. Bucky rubs his hands over your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze causing you to gasp.

“All this time, I thought my doll was a good girl.” Bucky says, rubbing his hand up and down your spine.

“I am a good girl.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear you.

“You are, but as of right now, you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.

Bucky leaned over your body, his dog tags lightly brushed against your back. His metal hand went to the front of your body and down to your clit. His metal fingers lightly rubbed your clit in circles causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

“I know how much you love my metal arm so let’s see how long it takes you to cum just from me rub your little clit.” Bucky says in almost a whisper.

Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit and began rubbing it in circles. You gripped the blankets on the bed from the amount of pleasure Bucky was giving you just from his metal fingers.

“Bucky, please I want you to—” A moan left your lips causing you to cut your sentence short.

“You want me to what, doll?” He asks.

“Fuck me please!” You begged.

“Not until you cum on my metal fingers.” He says.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan left your mouth instead when two of his metal fingers slid past your entrance while his metal thumb continued to rub your clit. Your walls immediately clenched around his fingers.

“I know you want to cum. Just do it and I’ll give you my cock.” He whispers in your ear.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you came hard on his metal fingers.

“There you go. Good girl.” Bucky praises.

You whimpered when he took his metal fingers out of your pussy. Bucky brought his metal fingers up to his mouth and tasted your juices, moaning at the taste. He then rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, his tip bumping your almost sensitive clit causing you to whimper. He lined his cock up at your entrance, slowly sliding it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size. You nodded your head, giving him permission to start thrusting. Bucky gripped your hips and slowly pulled his cock out until his tip was left inside of you. With a hard thrust, his whole cock was back inside of you. His thrusts were rough, but loving.

“Such a dirty little slut, aren’t ya, babydoll? Say you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.

“I’m dirty little slut!” You moaned.

“You’re my dirty little slut.” Bucky practically growls.

Bucky leaned down, kissing along the back of your neck, working his way around to your lips. His right hand left your hip, his fingers gripped your jaw firmly and turned your head to capture your lips in a much needed kiss. One of your hands reached up to the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at it causing Bucky to moan against your lips. Bucky’s metal hand left your hip and moved back down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.

“Bucky! Oh fuck!” You moaned.

“I love the way you moan my name. Keep saying it.” He says, kissing just below your ear.

“Bucky!” You moaned again.

The tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you causing your pussy to clench around his cock making him moan at the feeling.

“I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” Bucky moans.

Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit, roughly rubbing it. Your hands clutched the blankets on the bed and your toes curled at the feeling. You felt your orgasm building up again.

“Bucky, I— oh fuck! Please let me cum!” You whined desperately.

“I don’t know if I should let you. You never told me what a dirty girl you are.” Bucky says teasingly.

“I’ll show you everything if you want! Just please let me cum!” You whined again.

“Alright then. Cum for me, doll.” He says.

Bucky’s fingers moved faster against your clit, helping you chase your high. Your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than you did the first time. Bucky was now chasing his high.

“Such a good girl for me.” Bucky praises. “Gonna fill this little pussy up till it’s dripping with my cum.” He says in your ear.

“Yes please!” You moaned.

“Of course you fucking want it.” He chuckles. “Dirty girl.” He growls.

Your name left his lips as he came inside of you. Bucky thrusted a few more times before stopping and leaning against your back, his arms caging you in. You two stood there panting and catching your breath.

“You still with me, doll face?” Bucky moved your hair from your face. “I didn’t break you, did I?” He asks.

“Mmm, I’m good.” You hummed. “Just a little sensitive.” You say.

“Let’s get cleaned up and we can cuddle for the rest of the day.” He says and kissed your cheek.

Bucky slowly pulled his cock out of you causing you to whine. You tried standing up, but your legs were so wobbly causing you to lose your balance. Bucky was quick to catch you. He picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom for a nice warm bath. After you guys got cleaned up, Bucky gave you one of his t-shirts and got underneath the blankets with you, pulling you close to him. You snuggled yourself against his side and laid your head on his chest. You played with his dog tags.

“Just out of curiosity, how much of my smut did you read?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“A few.” Bucky answers. “I have to say, you’re quite the writer.” He says.

“Oh god.” You say, hiding your face against his chest.

“I mean it, doll.” He says, lifting your head up to look at him.

You leaned up and kissed his lips sweetly.

“Let me know if you need any inspiration for your dirty little stories.” Bucky says against your lips.

“Bucky!” You whined, lightly smacking his chest causing him to chuckle.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hey murphy!! i saw that you’re still accepting or going forth with your 3k celebration, so curiosity struck me…

could i order a rum with bucky barnes?

(i wanna hear some headcannons you got for this man. i can’t help but ask! but ofc if you’re too busy with honey girl chapter 5 i totally get it, i hope all is well and take care of yourself darling ❤️)

Bucky Barnes Headcanons.

warnings - sexual content.

my love, thank you for this!! if anyone agrees/disagrees or has any thoughts on these, please feel free to discuss/send them to my inbox. <3

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

- I think Bucky wants a simple life. Definitely appreciates the little things. I think he'd thrive in a 'regular' job - working weekdays, weekends off, probably something physical/manual. Maybe a small town, away from the city. The man needs a break.

- The most observant lover/partner. Because he's always kind of 'on guard', he notices everything. Can and will read you like a book.

- Would definitely use/benefit from therapy eventually. I know he didn't like it in TFATWS, but I think after those events, his eyes open a little. Learns the importance of communication and tries his best.

- Doesn't want children. Between the whole super soldier age thing and the trauma, I don't believe he's ever going to want kids. Marriage is definitely on the cards, though. He'd look handsome in a tux.

- He'd definitely benefit from a pet of some kind. I know he has Alpine in the comics, but I do think a dog would benefit him. Not a puppy, but a rescue. Something he can focus his attention on, it offers comfort, gets him out the house a couple of times a day.

- It'd take some time, but once he lets his guard down again, his love language is touch. Touches you all the damn time. His hand on your back, your hips, in your back pocket. Linking his fingers with yours whenever you're close enough. Fiddling with your hair. Kissing your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth whenever you give him the chance.

and now onto the sexy stuff...

- I have a firm belief that this man is filthy. Fucks like he's feral. Sweaty, dirty, we're-definitely-going-to-hell type sex.

- I think after he's worked through some of his trauma, he's using that metal arm. The temperature play? He's into it. He likes to watch you gasp. Shiver. Shake.

- He's a grabber. He's so strong, he's leaving bruises wherever he's got a hold of you. Hips, ass, wrists. He'll apologise, at first. Later, he won't.

- Likes his hair pulled. Hard. Likes to toe the line between pain and pleasure. He likes that edge. Likes it when you bite him. Loves when you scratch your nails down his skin.

- Thrives on intimacy. Loves to be skin to skin with you. Wants every part of himself to be plastered to every part of you. Presses your foreheads together, swallows your moans straight into his mouth. Puts his mouth next to your ear so you get a front row seat to the delicious sounds he makes.

in conclusion, he's perfect, your honour.

please feel free to send me any opinions on these!! agree, disagree, expand.. if you send me a thought (feel free to get dirty ;)) I'll always expand and maybe write a little for it... <3

[naughtyneganjdm]

Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 14

Summary: Together, everyone continues to enjoy New York City, but the fun comes to an end when Joel's feelings for Y/N makes things uncomfortable between them. Negan gives Joel a huge surprise that Joel's not ready for.

Characters: Joel Miller, the reader (OC), Negan Smith, Elizabeth, Peter, Maggie, Tommy Miller, Maria, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/156587101

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Joel sings again in this chapter, dirty talk, etc.

Notes: This is being put up late because I fell asleep. Sorry about that. Thanks for those that read and comment! The song Iris by Goo Goo Dolls is a big part of this chapter. If anyone wants to listen to what it sounds like. I also edited this when I was very tired, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Hope was a very influential emotion. It could make you do things that you didn’t think you were capable of. Today it had Joel feeling a lot of things. It had him acting ways he wouldn’t normally. After last night and this morning, Joel was in better spirits than he had been in a very long time. So he was enjoying things more. He was putting forth more of an effort to be outgoing, optimistic. Friendly. Giving the energy that he thought his family wanted from him on this trip. Everyone seemed to enjoy this change in Joel, even himself.

After their shower, Joel and Y/N came downstairs to see that Negan and Elizabeth were finishing breakfast for everyone. What was hard was hiding the fact that they were both wet. Joel was pretty certain that Tommy may have picked up on something, but neither one of them tried to draw attention to things.

During their breakfast, Elizabeth enthusiastically told her uncle about what happened earlier in the morning. About how she woke up and Joel was missing. Which of course had Tommy asking a lot of questions to Joel when they were alone, but Joel refused to answer them in any way to give Tommy some kind of hint as to what happened. It was only his business with Negan and Y/N. That was it.

They had to finish breakfast fast because Negan had plans to take them to a Christmas market at Union Square. It was a longer walk to get there, so Negan had them driven there by a person he hired. And the car was insane. It definitely felt way too rich for Joel’s blood. Stuff like that still made Joel feel ridiculously uncomfortable. Because it felt like Negan was using his celebrity status to do things most people wouldn’t be able to. And in his opinion? Being driven around the city in expensive cards did draw unnecessary attention to his family in New York City. Even though those discomforts were lingering, Joel didn’t speak up or saying anything.

While they seemed to enjoy being at Union Square, most everyone seemed to enjoy Bryant Park more. Peter went through trying a bunch of food and it was usually without Joel realizing because Negan was consistently buying everyone things. And no matter how much Joel attempted to be comfortable with this kind of thing, he wasn’t. Having Negan pampering his whole family including him just made him ill at ease. The only thing that Joel had managed to accept from Negan was an apple cider donut that Negan had bought for him. It was one of his weaknesses and he had a hard time turning that stuff away.

Today was more about being tourists. Y/N had her camera out, taking photos of everything that caught her eye. Elizabeth was excited to get everything in and Peter was just happy to be there. Tommy and Maria were acting like what they were. A brand-new couple, high on each other and happy to be near one another.

They didn’t stay nearly as long at Union Square as they had Bryant Park the night before. Getting back into the cars, Negan had them driven to Macy’s claiming it was important getting to see it at Christmas time. Since Negan was the only person that had been there he gave them all the ‘so called’ tour. And because Negan was a celebrity, he managed to skip a large line of people that were there to get a photo with Santa Claus so all of them could have a keepsake. Getting to skip the line felt wrong to Joel. But then again? Considering how long that line was, Joel actually appreciated that they didn’t have to wait like everyone else. Christmas was days away and this experience was a whole lot easier than it was back at home when Joel got photos done with Peter and Elizabeth on his own.

The next thing they did was go to the Empire State Building because Negan insisted it was a must see for them. As a contractor, this was something that Joel knew Negan wanted him to see. While it was interesting, Joel found himself mostly just wanting to be near Y/N. Right now he felt close to her. Closer than they had felt in a long time and he was enjoying the fact that they weren’t fighting or uncomfortable with each other. Wanting to keep going, Elizabeth got them to go to Central Park where she was eager to walk around, everywhere. Problem was? Most of them were exhausted. They dragged along, but they certainly didn’t have the energy that Peter and Elizabeth had.

That meant there was a lot of coffee that was downed and Joel counted on Tommy and Maria to watch after them in the moments that he couldn’t with Y/N. If he was tired? Joel knew that Y/N would only be that much more tired.

Once the sun started to set, the group had decided to go ice skating. Negan denied going out on the ice suggesting that he hold onto Y/N’s camera to keep it safe. Out of the group, Joel was the only one that knew that Negan had hurt his knee doing the piano stunt the night before. Truthfully? Joel didn’t fight him on it. That meant more alone time with Y/N and he was eager to take it. At first, Negan just sat down on a bench alone, but Elizabeth wanted to go to a place that served hot chocolate that was famous because of a movie that it was featured in. Since Negan knew where it was, he agreed to take her allowing the rest of them to keep skating.

And that’s where they were now. Skating together and Joel loved it. Peter had met some kids that he was hanging out with. Tommy and Maria were enjoying themselves and Joel was skating on the ice with Y/N holding her hand.

“This has been nice,” Joel informed Y/N with a long sigh, gazing over at Y/N with awe. Thinking back on it, Joel couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good about things. Everything in the moment felt perfect. And he liked feeling that way. “I feel like I’m a kid again with you. It’s like I’m seventeen, deeply in love and happy. This has actually turned out to be a better trip than I thought it would be.”

“You had your doubts?” she wondered, frowning at the idea that he didn’t think he would enjoy himself. “You wanted to come here so bad when we were kids, Joel. I don’t know why you thought it would be awful.”

“It’s not the city that made it good Y/N,” Joel stressed to her, wanting her to understand that while when he was younger the city would have made him happy, it was more so the things that they were doing that left an impact on him. “It’s the moments. I’ve enjoyed getting to spend time with everyone and I don’t know…making memories?”

“That’s good,” she squeezed her fingers tighter around his, finding herself almost slipping. Spinning her into his arms, Joel smiled with her falling in against his chest. Sweeping his gloved covered hand in over the side of her face, Joel’s eyes were locked on hers. Giving her a wink, Joel lowered down as if to kiss her and she uneasily tipped her face to the side so that he kissed in over her cheek. “Thank you.”

“What was that?” Joel stammered, feeling a lump developing in his throat after being denied the kiss. Giving him an awkward expression, she motioned Joel to follow her back to skating again, but he refused to move from where they were at the edge of the rink. “Hey?”

“Tommy or Peter could see,” she whispered looking back in search of their family. At this point? They really hadn’t put a label or made things official with what they were doing with Negan. Publicly, they were hiding things still. So she didn’t even understand why Joel went for the kiss in the first place. This morning they had avoided walking down together after they had done what they had in the shower. “If Peter saw, he could get the wrong idea about things. We don’t want that.”

“The wrong idea about things?” Joel repeated with an ache growing at the center of his chest. Letting out an uncomfortable sound, Joel shook his head and bit down on his bottom lip. “I would think that Peter would be okay with his parents getting along again. After last night and this morning…”

“Joel,” she hushed him, placing her finger in over Joel’s lips to silence him from talking any further about this. Urging him to follow her, they got off the ice and went over to sit down on a bench changing out of their skates. It left them close enough to still keep a watch on Peter and the other two. Sliding in closer to her, Joel looked over at her and was searching for some kind of answer. “If Peter saw us kissing, he might think we’re getting back together.”

“I…” Joel stammered, his eyebrows tensing thinking about the words that just left her lips. “I’m confused. I thought after last night that there was that chance that maybe the two of us…that maybe things were okay and we might think of restarting our relationship again.”

“Well, we can talk to Negan about things with the three of us, but…” she started to ramble provoking him to shake his head firmly after she mentioned Negan.

“I’m not talking about Negan,” Joel claimed, his jaw tensing up at the idea of him being mentioned again. “You came to me this morning worried that I might look at you different. You didn’t stay with Negan, you came to me. There is something between the two of us that can’t be broken. You know that just as much as I do. So what if we show affection toward each other in public? I think the children should get used to it.”

“Yeah, but Joel,” she began, her face twisting with sadness. Outstretching her hand, she placed it in over his and gave it a small squeeze. “I’m with Negan.”

“Yeah, but last night…” Joel shook his head considering what happened between the three of them. “You were really happy. And with us…I thought you were feeling what I was. I thought you might feel the same way I did and maybe the two of us could try again at something.”

“Last night was incredible Joel and I am happy. I love spending time with you and…I do love you,” she swore seemingly conflicted with what she was saying. “But I was never planning on leaving Negan for you. I thought you understood that. Negan was allowing you to be part of something, but that’s it. If anything, it was him allowing you to be part of our relationship. Not having him hand me over to you.”

“It kind of feels like you’re saying what happened last night between us was nothing,” Joel stressed, tugging his hand back and away from Y/N who seemed worried with his response to things. “It didn’t feel like nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” she shook her head, stretching her hand out to caress in over the side of Joel’s face. Earlier it seemed like he understood things, but now he was getting extremely emotional about everything they were talking about. “It was special. And I enjoyed it very much. But I am officially dating Negan. Negan is my boyfriend and I told him that I wanted to make this work between us. I told you the same thing. You knew that going into last night.”

“But how you’ve been acting…” Joel reasoned with her, his head shaking in disbelief. Between the two of them both this morning and last night things felt so much more passionate between them. Like they were bonding again with each other and there was that potential for something more. “We’re happy again. I feel like Negan is the third wheel here. Eventually it’s just going to be us again and…”

“Joel, that’s not what’s happening here,” she stressed, sadness flooding her eyes that Joel was going to this. Now she was starting to realize how much that threesome they had may have been a bad idea. Especially since these were the feelings that Joel was drawing up from it. “If anything, I think Negan would be comfortable with the three of us having something together, but…”

“I would ultimately be the third wheel,” Joel finished for her having her searching for words to say. That idea just pissed him off. He was the one that had been with her for almost two decades. Negan may have been there for her first, but he only just came back and had been there a few weeks. “You weren’t acting like I was a third wheel.”

“You’re not. I love you both,” she assured him having a hard time looking at him with the way his face was mixed with both sadness and what appeared to be anger. “Would you even be comfortable with people knowing that you were in a three-way relationship with us?”

“You act like it’s going to last longer than when he has to go back for spring training,” Joel brought back what he had said to her previously which had her frowning. “You’re putting him in the front runner position when he’s just going to leave you when work calls. Right now you’re just a distraction for him when he’s off of work and at home. I was with you first. I know you better than anyone. It should be us that’s…”

“Mom!” Elizabeth called out walking side by side with Negan cutting Joel’s words off. Right now, Joel was fired up and he wanted to keep talking about what they were, but he knew that opportunity was now gone with their daughter approaching. “That was so cool. Because of Negan being who he is, we were able to sit at the table they did with the movie! They gave us free drinks, showed us around. My friends are going to be so jealous.”

“Don’t tell, but she didn’t really like the hot chocolates,” Negan muttered, nudging Elizabeth with his arm when Y/N stood up from the bench leaving Joel to himself. Moving in beside her mother, Elizabeth pulled out her phone to show her photos. Once she was done, Negan waved Y/N forward to look at the camera that was hers that he was holding for her. “I’m not the best at photography, but I got some photos of your daughter there and some other places on the walk back.”

“Adorable,” Y/N winked, giving her daughter a one-armed hug. A moment later Elizabeth was sliding in beside Joel to show him. Even though there was misery in his eyes, Joel put on a fake smile and listened to what she had to say. Right now Y/N didn’t know whether or not to tell Negan what was going on, but since Elizabeth was with them, she opted not to.

Getting her camera back from Negan, she took some photos around the park and of their family. All the while feeling very guilty about everything that was happening. Last night, she didn’t think Joel would really take things the way that he did. The idea of them being a trio was something that she was completely okay with, but Joel seemed to have it in his head that she was going to leave Negan for him and the two of them would be together. If she would have known that’s how things would have gone, she wasn’t sure she would have allowed last night to happen.

The happiness that Joel had previously during the day had turned to a quiet, shut down version of himself. Even the children had asked him multiple times if he was okay because they picked up on the change. Maybe she handled that all wrong and it was the only thing that she could keep thinking about for the rest of the time that they were together at the park.

On the way home, Elizabeth had wanted to see the lights that they walked by the night before. Joel had suggested that he wanted to go home and when she thought she would go back with him so they could talk, he quickly changed his mind to stick around. He didn’t want to talk to her. Which meant this was bad and she knew it.

Once home, everyone was tired. Sluggishly each one of them walked back into the apartment, ready for bed, but then Negan alerted them that he was going to take the adults downstairs to a bar that he wanted to show them. Elizabeth and Peter were okay with it. They were just going to sit in front of the gigantic television in the living room to watch some movies for a while.

Instead of just heading down there, they all chose to clean up some and gather back at the elevator in the apartment. Leading them toward the bar, Negan seemed excited, yet Joel lagged in the back keeping his head down with his hands pushed into his pockets.

“You know what this is right?” Negan muttered loudly as they walked into the bar together, stopping when they were surrounded by a large crowd of people that were waiting. “This bar is famous for finding some of the biggest artists to this day. Some of the top singers came from here. Started here. Big wigs are always hanging around the place.”

Joel didn’t react. Just stood there. When the owner of the bar came around to take Negan to a special table that they had prepared for him, Joel rolled his eyes. Negan left out the part where he called ahead and planned this days ago. They were given one of the nicest tables away from the crowd. The owner even brought them an expensive bottle of alcohol for free. Joel turned it down in order to get a cheap beer for himself that he insisted that he paid for.

“Can we talk?” Y/N whispered under her breath. She was seated between Negan and Joel at the booth they were at. Ever since the park she felt bad about everything that had went down. “I feel like I didn’t say things right at the park. I don’t want you feeling this bad about everything. You were right, things were good between us and I think I said things wrong that just…”

“We already talked. I understand, you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” Joel grunted under his breath, finishing off his beer and then waving down one of the waitresses that were eager to dote on their table since Negan was a celebrity for them. Pretty quickly Joel was three beers in and Y/N wished he would tone it down.

“I’ll be right back,” Negan tapped his hand on the table from where he was sitting at the end of the booth. Sliding out, he gave Y/N’s shoulder a quick squeeze and leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek. “Don’t run away.”

With a final wink Negan back stepped and headed somewhere in the bar leaving her alone with Joel, Tommy and Maria.

“This is pretty cool, right?” Tommy broke the ice, trying to get his brother to talk about what was going on. “We dreamt of coming to places like this when we were kids. Remember? You always thought you would bring your guitar, sing and then someone would notice you. I’m pretty sure this is the actual bar you talked about all the time. And now you’re actually here.”

“Yeah,” Joel stammered, his head nodding about when he dragged his fingers over the bottle that he was holding. “The only thing is? If we would have tried coming here when we were younger we would have gotten kicked out. We were poor little Latino boys that would have never gotten through that door. Nor would I have ever been given a chance.”

“You never know,” Maria suggested after the silence surrounded them at the table. Joel’s negativity made things uncomfortable, but Maria was trying to keep things positive. “I’m sure you would have swept people off your feet with your southern charm and your boyishly cute looks.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Joel scoffed, his eyebrows bouncing up when he took another big gulp of the beer that he had grabbed himself. An act had just gotten off the stage so it was just the sound of loud talking at this point. “Why did Negan even bring us here? I don’t give a shit about music anymore and I really think we should just sleep if we want to go another day tomorrow.”

“Does this thing work?” a horrible ringing sound came from the microphone up on stage after the owner started tapping on it. Everyone in the bar cringed with the sound that echoed throughout the place. “Now that I’ve ran everyone off with that, I thought I would introduce a guest of mine. He’s not the most popular in New York City, especially during the baseball season, but he’s one of the funniest guys I know. Please don’t boo him too hard. Or maybe do. It might knock him off his game when he comes back to New York for his final year of playing. Please welcome my friend, Negan Smith.”

A loud groaning sound was heard from Joel with him dropping his head and shaking it in disbelief drawing the tables attention. There was a round of applause from mostly women, but the boos did come from the men. Truthfully? Y/N was surprised that Joel didn’t enjoy that bit. The New Yorkers took their baseball teams seriously. Especially since Negan was on the team that they hated the most.

Noticing Negan stepping up onto the stage, Y/N got curious when she saw that there was an acoustic guitar in his hand. Getting before the microphone, Negan waved his hand a bit more, antagonizing the boos and urging on the cheers that he got from those that did know him.

“I know, I know. There is a whole hell of a lot of you that don’t like me. And I’m okay with that. I welcome that,” Negan hushed the crowd getting hackled by a few of those that weren’t a fan of him. It had Negan smiling and it seemed to entertain him that people disliked him. “It’s just gonna fuel me to do better when you see me here next.”

“Of course he’s gonna fucking sing,” Joel slurred under his breath with a firm shake of his head. “He’s gonna get himself killed and stabbed by the end of the night. I told him that New Yorkers weren’t okay with him walking around like it’s no big fucking deal.”

“Joel,” Y/N tried to keep Joel quiet but instead Joel just rolled his eyes and looked to the stage with a disgusted expression.

“See, I’m not here for me,” Negan declared, changing the position of the guitar in his hands to strum at the strings. “I can play the guitar, but my singing voice? It’s shit. Unlike my baseball skills…”

There was another round of boos that had Negan snorting and he shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t worry. I’m not about to bore you with any comedian shit here. I just came here because I have a friend. One of my oldest friends actually who had a dream of coming to this very place when we were kids. Talked about it all the time. Today is the first time he’s ever been here. He should have been here years ago, but you see my friend, he’s a hell of a guy. Life didn’t go the way he planned and he had to give up his dreams to take care of his little brother. More than anything, this guy wanted to be a singer so I came here today hoping you guys would let him sing for you.”

“The fuck,” Joel dropped the beer bottle, jumping when some of it spilled out on the table and it started to pour out toward him. Quickly, Y/N helped him clean it up when he looked to her with a panicked expression. “Did you know about this?”

“No, I didn’t,” she swore with Joel’s face going completely pale.

“Now this man hasn’t played in public in a very long time so he’s a little bit shy. Hell, he didn’t even know that I was doing this today so I’m kinda putting his ass on the spot,” Negan spun the guitar in his hands looking out into the crowd.

“Asshole,” a person shouted having Negan snicker and nod his head.

“You’re not wrong,” Negan shrugged his shoulders, accepting the diss that was thrown his way. “I’m sure he’s not too happy with me right now either, but I think everyone should be given a chance to live their dreams once.”

“If he’s your friend, he must suck,” another man yelled out from the crowd causing Joel to sink down in the booth hoping to just disappear from the moment that was happening right now.

“You suck,” Tommy called out back getting a round of laughs from his response. Patting Joel on the shoulder, Tommy realized that it looked like his brother was trying to disappear under the table. “The hell are you doing?”

“I’m just wasting time at this point. If you could do me the honor of accepting my dear friend Joel Miller up here to sing for you tonight, it’d be really fucking nice of you,” Negan held out the guitar in the direction of the booth that he had left his friends at. “Be nice to him, okay? Because if you’re not, just remember I’m really fucking good with a bat.”

There were laughs from the crowd at the serious expression that Negan gave them that was followed by a big cheesy smile afterwards, “So come on up here Joel.”

A bright spotlight was suddenly put on the table having Joel’s brown eyes get big. Shaking his head immediately caused the crowd to laugh at his response and it had color flooding into Joel’s face, “I’m good. No thank you!”

“Like I said, he’s a little nervous so please amp him up a little bit here,” Negan asserted, having the crowd clapping for him, but Joel shook his head again.

“Come on big brother. This is what you always wanted,” Tommy pat Joel on the shoulder with Joel continuing to refuse to go up there. “You can do this.”

“I can’t. I haven’t sang in front of a crowd since I was a teenager,” Joel stressed to Tommy what he knew to be the truth. An overwhelming sense of panic flooded through him and he didn’t know how to get out of here fast enough.

“Hey, you can do this,” Y/N promised, grabbing a tight hold of his shoulder. Shaking his head, Joel tried to get her to move so he could run away but she grabbed a firm hold of his upper arms. “Just think about it. When the children hear tonight what you did, they are going to be so proud of you. I’ll be proud of you. Do it for them. Do it for me. Do it for the child in you that still yearns for this life. Live it once.”

That last bit crushed him. Swallowing down hard, he spoke quiet enough for only the table to hear, “What if I suck?”

“Then at least we will be here to support you,” Tommy blurt out, shoving into Joel’s back to try to push him out of the booth.

Getting up from the table, Y/N let Joel out who stood there looking like he was going to die being put on the spot. A few catcalls had him looking around the crowd and Joel rubbed at his lips with the back of his hand. Going to turn away toward the door to run, Joel ran straight into a large mass that was behind him. Looking up, Joel realized it was the security that had been put on the table to protect them during the night and he huffed.

“Yeah, lead him up here if you could,” Negan waved his fingers with the security helping Joel through the crowd up toward the stage. “Just so he doesn’t get lost.”

At the steps to the stage, the security pushed him forward having Joel stumble on the first step which embarrassed him immediately. There was no escaping this. Not now. Moving up the steps, Joel stopped before Negan and looked to the guitar that Negan was holding out for him.

“You’re gonna need this,” Negan held out the guitar placing it into his hands. Accepting it, Joel felt like the world was spinning around him. Up on the stage, he couldn’t really see much out into the crowd. It was a hot light that was pointed directly on him almost blinding him. Raising his hand, he tried to block it to stare out at everyone there. His eyes fell to the table where his brother and Y/N were. “Good luck buddy.”

Patting Joel on the back, Negan gave a bow and then dramatically pointed to Joel who just stood on the stage feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety. After everything, Joel gave up that hope of having a career in music. He stopped playing in front of people and he shut himself off from the world. He didn’t like being the center of attention. Not like Negan did.

Then again? This was the life he yearned for. The one he regretted never getting.

“You can’t play it by staring at it with your eyes,” someone heckled him from the crowd and it had Negan stopping before he got back to the table.

“Give him a break!” Negan demanded causing Joel to roll his eyes putting the guitar strap over his shoulder. Sitting down at the seat they had dragged up to the microphone, Joel sat down and shook his head.

“Yeah, please give me a break. Some asshole just pulled me up on stage without warning after I’ve downed about three drinks,” Joel was nervous so his words were shaken and his southern drawl was much deeper than normal. Those that didn’t like Negan clapped and others laughed at his comment. “So I’m drunk, unpracticed and frankly scared out of my fucking mind.”

“But you’re hot!” someone called out from the crowd cracking a smile over Joel’s lips with him shaking his head.

Adjusting what needed to be changed on the guitar, Joel strummed a few chords and heard himself fumbling. A few people booed and he knew that he deserved that. He had no charisma. No charm like Negan. He was only up here because Negan got him up here. Not because he deserved it. It was horrifying. It was nothing like he thought it would be. He was a mess.

“I’m sorry,” Joel went to get up when he messed up again, but the sound of something tapping on the stage was heard having him lift his head to see that Y/N had gotten up. She was right before the stage, her eyes staring up at him with hope and awe.

“You have this. I’m right here,” she encouraged him having Joel swallow down the lump that had been building in his throat. He was sweating. Bad. And he was so uncomfortable. But for her? He sat down.

The last time he played was for her. That’s when she turned him down. That stuck with him. For that night, Joel had practiced many songs. Ones that he thought would be good for her, but he had settled on the one that he did. So he started with one of those songs.

“I’m gonna go with some older songs. Something people know because I didn’t have time to plan one of my own songs,” Joel explained to them, finding his strength in the fact the only thing he could see right now was Y/N standing at the front of the stage for him.

It took a minute for him to gain the courage as he started playing a familiar tune in acoustic that he had practiced many times in the past, “And I’d give up forever to touch you. ‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow. You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t wanna go home right now.”

It wasn’t his best. He knew that, but he was doing his hardest to keep it together right now. Lifting his head, his eyes locked on Y/N realizing that she was his steady. The thing that grounded him, so he made sure that while he played, he continuously looked to her for his comfort.

“All I can taste is this moment. And all I can breathe is your life. And sooner or later, it’s over. I just don’t wanna miss you tonight,” Joel continued to sing feeling a sense of lightheadedness but he was trying to play through his fears. “And I don’t want the world to see me. ‘Cause I don’t think they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken. I just want you to know who I am.”

In her eyes, Joel saw an array of emotions. Sadness. Joy. If anything, she looked proud of him.

“And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming. Or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive,” Joel continued to sing hearing the awe from some of the women in the crowd from what he was singing. He likely didn’t look like a love song kind of guy, but considering these were the last songs that he practiced, this is what they were getting.

After finishing Iris, Joel went to Make You Feel My Love. And with each song, Joel took notice of the burning over of tears in Y/N’s eyes. It only fueled him to keep him singing. Maybe to show her what she was missing. What he was capable of. Yet, when he saw the single tear sliding down the side of her face, Joel found himself locked on her. Not knowing how many songs he should play.

Next he went with Unchained Melody, then Can’t Help Falling In Love before finishing off with the song that he had sang to Y/N that night. The one he had actually chosen that he thought would be the perfect song for her.

These were all songs that he had wanted to dedicate to her the night that he had brought her to the school. By this point, the women really seemed to be the people drawn to his southern drawl with him singing and since they were all romantic songs, it was natural for them to be excited for him to sing. 

Rounding up the final song, Joel locked his eyes completely on Y/N hoping that this was doing to her what he wanted it to, “I believe and I believe ‘cause I can see. Our future days. Days of you and me. You and me. Days of you and me.”

Finishing up, Joel lowered his head and heard clapping from the audience, it was a bit of a mixed reaction and he was okay with it, “Well I think that’s enough from me tonight before the men boo me off the stage. Thanks for letting me sing here because lord fucking knows I probably won’t do it again.”

Joel stood up from the chair to clapping and he was surprised to hear it. This moment? This right here? It was his dream come true from when he was a sixteen-year-old boy longing for this moment. Taking a moment to appreciate it, he sighed and then moved down the steps. Once he reached the bottom step, Y/N eagerly wrapped her arms around him to hug him and with his free arm he loosely hooked it around her waist.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, pressing a loving kiss against Joel’s cheek. It had him closing his eyes and cherishing the moment. Leaning back, Joel realized that she was crying because of being happy along with be proud of him. “You were amazing.”

“I…” Joel thought about how much he loved her. How all of those songs were dedicated to her. He wanted to tell her that she was think that kept him on that stage. How she was his comfort. The one thing that kept him from losing it. But he knew it would mean nothing. Especially now that Negan was in her life. “Thank you.”

Giving her a wink, Joel handed her the guitar before walking away. Heading toward the door, Joel walked outside. In contrast to how he was feeling, it was nice and cold. His body was on fire and he was trying to gain back the feeling in his limbs. What he knew to be true was that he fought his way through a few panic attacks up there on stage. So his body was feeling the effects from the adrenaline rushes.

“That was amazing,” a voice called out to him and he looked back over his shoulder to see a woman approaching him. What she was wearing looked like she would be freezing because she was in a very small, tight dress that brought attention to her body. “That was your first time being on stage?”

“In almost twenty years?” Joel suggested with a scoff eyeing over the younger woman moving in beside him. Pulling something out of her purse, she revealed a pack of cigarettes. Taking one for herself, she thought for a moment and held the pack out to him. Accepting one, Joel cleared his throat and looked her over. It had been a long time since he had smoked. It used to be his way to alleviate the stresses of his life, but he had to stop when it got to be an expensive habit. “I know it was obvious that I’m not used to being in front of people. You’re just being nice.”

“You did better than half of the people they bring around here,” the bright green eyes of the woman beside him stared out at him. Getting her cigarette lit, she helped Joel light his. Once he took the first puff, it had him coughing and she laughed. Joel’s face grew red and he tried to bury his head into his arm when he continued to cough. “You don’t smoke, do you?”

“I did,” Joel confessed, embarrassed that he coughed like that. “I had to stop because…” shaking his head, Joel cleared his throat again and shrugged. “It was too expensive and it was between these or the house bills. So I had to give them up.”

“Sounds right,” she winked at Joel, leaning back against the building. Taking another puff of the cigarette, Joel held it in and remembered all over again what it was like to be addicted to these things when he was younger. It was a stress reliever for him even though he knew it wasn’t healthy. “You married?”

“No,” Joel was honest, looking her over. Really? He should have just told her to mind her own business. Have his own space to think things out, but he was honestly enjoying the attention. “Are you old enough to be married?”

“That’s funny,” the stranger pointed back toward the bar. “You have to be twenty-one to get into there. But I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Right,” Joel muttered, extending his free hand out to shake herd. Still, Joel knew that she was significantly younger than him. “You know my name. What’s yours?”

“Maggie. Maggie Greene,” she introduced herself, her eyes narrowing with the way that Joel was staring down at her. “Do you live in New York? You’re good looking.”

“Visiting and…thank you?” Joel snickered not sure how to respond to that. It had been a long time since he had someone flirting with him. She was quick with her questions and he felt like she was sizing him up. “You’re cute too.”

“Do you want a blow job?” she offered having Joel coughing immediately, choking on the smoke that came from the cigarette. It made her laugh at his response and she shrugged her shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want one. It was just an offer.”

“I uh…” Joel didn’t know how to respond. On the one hand, she was cute. Very cute, but there was no doubt that she was much younger than him. And that was very forward for a stranger who didn’t know a thing about him. He wondered if this was what it would have been like to be that young and flirting with people. Since he got married young and it was too his high school sweetheart, he never got to experience life like that. Anyone that he hooked up with in the past was someone he knew for at least a little while. And some of the one-night stands were with people who at least had a full conversation with him. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“Yes or no would be a good answer,” she suggested with a wrinkle of her nose, stepping in closer to Joel allowing him the chance to look down her dress that she was hoping would draw his attention. There was also a bit of a southern drawl to her voice as well. “Where are you from?”

“Texas,” Joel answered, licking his lips knowing that it was inappropriate for him to be gawking, but he still found himself doing it.

“Georgia,” she pointed at her chest having Joel nod once. “New Yorkers don’t do it like southern men. And any southerner up here, doesn’t look like you. I would happily take you into the alley and suck your cock. Let you fuck me…”

“Goddamn. You’re forward,” Joel was surprised by the way she was throwing herself at him. While he was amused and slightly attracted to this woman, it wasn’t the most comforting thought. He wondered how many men she had done this with before previously. Which made him feel immediately old. The younger version of him would have probably loved this, but now that he was older he was considering just how healthy she might be. And how it might be dangerous to do something like that.

“Do you hate it?” Maggie wondered having Joel tip his head from side to side.

“No,” Joel thought aloud, his face flushing over with heat again. Even though he highly doubted that he would do something with her, it felt nice to have someone that looked like her wanting to hook up with him. “It’s flattering.”

“I aim to please,” she fluttered her long eyelashes at him and it had Joel in deep debate. There was the logical side of him that knew it was stupid. But then there was also the emotional side that didn’t think a blowjob would really be that bad. But, then again, he was in a depressed state after everything that happened today. “The offer is still on the table.”

“There you are!” a boisterous voice had Joel breaking his eyes away from Maggie to lift his head up to see Negan approaching him. As soon as Maggie saw Negan, her body seemed to tense up and she stood up straighter beside Joel. Cussing under his breath, Joel knew that Maggie was in awe of seeing Negan up close. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you buddy! You did fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m talking to someone,” Joel pointed in the direction of Maggie who gave Negan a nod when he looked to her.

“Hey,” Negan winked with a friendly smile and then gave Joel his full attention again. By Negan’s reaction to her, it was obvious that Negan had zero interest in being near the woman. Hooking his arm around Joel’s shoulders, Negan turned just enough so that Maggie was pushed out of their interaction. With the expression over Maggie’s face, Joel knew that she had taken the hint that Negan didn’t want her there. By the look in her eyes, Joel knew that she was offended. “And now you’re talking to me.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Maggie stammered with a half wave, dropping her cigarette and stepping it out. Watching her walk away drew Joel to grunt and he walked over toward the alley having Negan following him.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Joel pointed in the direction that Maggie had walked off. Negan’s thick eyebrows bounced and he laughed. “She was just trying to be nice.”

“She was a gutter slut,” Negan blurt out, getting a glare from Joel who was surprised to hear that. “You think this is my first rodeo with people like her? Girls like that try to hook up with up-and-coming stars. Either to brag or hold some kind of thing over that person’s head when they get famous. Whether it’s at a place like this or at baseball games. They used to always try to follow us to our hotels. Get some kind of fame by fucking people. They are so entirely easy to read.”

“And that’s why she came over to me?” Joel confirmed with Negan who dramatically nodded. “I’m a no one.”

“You’re hot, you’re talented, you’re my friend and you were the best act of the night,” Negan listed off, using his fingers to show that Joel had many reasons for that girl to come out and flirt with him. “She wasn’t worth your time Joel.”

Debating that, Joel knew deep down that Negan was right, but he still was annoyed that Negan chased her off like he did.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Negan commented, his head tipping to the side when he saw that Joel took a long puff of it. Handing it to Negan, Negan accepted it and did the same before handing it back to Joel.

“I quit when Ellie was three,” Joel informed Negan with a hiss, tossing what was left of it across from him. Resting back against the wall, Joel tipped his head back and felt a rush flooding throughout his veins. “You had no right to do what you did tonight. You realize that, right?”

“Come again?” Negan snorted, hissing when he released the smoke from his lungs looking at Joel with surprise behind his hazel eyes. “I did this for you. I planned it once you told me that you were coming along. I knew that the apartment was by this place and I remember you talking about it all the time when we were young.”

“Oh fuck off Negan,” Joel snarled rolling his eyes with the way that Negan was talking. “Do you get off to the idea of torturing me? You are the most manipulative piece of shit I’ve ever known.”

“Did I miss something?” Negan wondered, pointing between the two of them, looking to make sure that they were alone. Because right now he was confused as to what was happening. “What’s going on here Joel?”

“What’s with this whole I’m going to be incredibly nice to Joel thing? You know I’m the last person you should be nice to,” Joel scoffed, his dark eyes narrowing with the way that Negan’s shoulders slumped forward. And there it was. Bringing up the past again after everything seemed to be going right. “After what I did to you, this is all too fucking much.”

“I got over it,” Negan breathed out, pushing his hands into his pockets with the chill that was surrounding them. “Life happened Joel. I was mad for a while, but I’m an adult. It’s been a long time. I don’t care about what happened in the past.”

“You’re so full of shit. I think you’re enjoying this,” Joel claimed with a firm nod of his head. All he could think about was his interaction with Y/N when they were ice skating. There had been a large amount of anger that was building up since then. “You’re throwing in my face how much better you are than me. With my children. With my wife. With everything. You’re perfect. Everyone loves you. I think you want to torture me.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m torturing you,” Negan almost mocked Joel, bobbing his head back and forth with Joel’s stare growing angrier. “I just got you up on that stage. I let you live one of your biggest dreams growing up. I bargained with the owner to get you up there because…”

“I wanted to do it on my own. Not because someone helped me, but because I deserved to be up there. Because I was talented,” Joel corrected Negan, his jaw flexing in anger the more he spoke. “Instead I was handed it. When I didn’t deserve it at all.”

“What makes you think you don’t deserve it?” Negan wondered, trying to understand where all of this was coming from. “You gave up your life for your little brother. You could have been where I am right now if you weren’t selfless and…”

“But I’m not there Negan. You’re the only one of the three of us that got away. You’re the only one that got to live your fucking dream. And you are so happy to throw it in our faces all the fucking time that you’re famous and you have money,” Joel bickered back, throwing his hands up in the air while he spoke. “My family begged me to take them to New York. But I couldn’t do it. In comes Negan on his white horse bringing them in the first few weeks of meeting them. You are infuriating.”

“Listen, okay? You’re just amped up. The adrenaline is flowing through your veins, but what you just did was incredible,” Negan stepped forward in attempts to support his friend, caressing over his shoulders supportively. “Mixed with alcohol, sometimes we think a little differently. And I understand that. Soon, the endorphins are gonna kick in and you’ll see this is actually…”

“Fuck off Negan,” Joel firmly shoved into Negan’s chest having him stumble over his feet backwards tripping over some of the garbage cans that were out. Hitting the ground hard, Negan groaned out and Joel shook his head. “Just because you sucked my dick this morning doesn’t mean we’re okay. It doesn’t mean I trust you and it doesn’t make us best buds again.”

“Is that what this is about?” Negan hissed out, pushing himself up on his hands. “You beg me to suck your dick and suddenly you are freaking the fuck out?”

“Shut up,” Joel warned Negan who shakily pushed himself up to his feet. “I didn’t beg you to do shit. You wanted to do that. You play mind games with people. It’s what you do. You’re a fucking asshole. You know it. I know it. It’s been your talent since we were younger. You always knew how to get what you wanted. You really are the most manipulative piece of shit I’ve ever known.”

“You’re freaking out because you’re attracted to me,” Negan suggested with a scoff shaking his head. “I know you’re all I’m from Texas. I’m an alpha male. I can’t like fucking guys because I’m straight as can be. I’m a fucking cowboy. But guess what Joel? It’s okay to like dick sometimes. Yeah, I sucked your dick. And you came so fucking hard down my throat that you let the whole apartment know just how good it felt. If that embarrasses…”

Wincing out, Negan felt Joel grabbing him by his shirt to spin him and slam him hard against the wall, “Why are you so fucking miserable? I went out of my way to help you tonight. I’ve done nothing but be nice to you. The fuck else can I do?”

“You just think that you can butter me up in order to steal my family. In order to steal my girl,” Joel pronounced each word with venom, his heart hammering in his chest uncontrollably.

“I would never steal your family. They love you. You’re their father and they will always love you,” Negan declared with a shake of his head only to have Joel push him further against the wall. “As far as stealing your girl? I wouldn’t call it that since she wasn’t yours anymore.”

Shoving him hard with his left hand, Joel raised his right fist to attack Negan, but Negan didn’t budge, “You wanna hit me Joel? Fucking hit me. But I don’t have any ulterior motives with you. Maybe I just want to be fucking nice.”

“When has being nice ever gotten you what you wanted?” Joel scoffed at Negan, his eyes narrowing with Joel shrugging his shoulders. “You’re a piece of shit. We both know it.”

“Of course I am,” Negan finally snapped at Joel, the lines in his forehead growing. How loud Negan was actually surprised Joel. It had Joel’s brown eyes growing big, his breathing becoming more broken. “I know what a piece of shit I am. I’m fucking scum. The worst kind of scum and I realize I don’t deserve the shit that’s in my life. I never deserved this. You know what my father did to me growing up and he was right about me the whole time. You know it. I know it.”

“Your father abused you,” Joel lowered his fist hearing Negan’s breathing uneven. Negan’s eyes were tearing over with the emotions that he was visibly feeling from their discussion. “Why you would believe a word that came out of that man’s mouth…”

“But he wasn’t wrong,” Negan stammered with a firm shake of his head. “I was everything he said I was. Useless. Pathetic. Incapable of being anything other than a fucking failure.”

“You have everything,” Joel responded with a wrinkle of his nose, releasing Negan. Hearing Negan call himself a failure when so many people looked up to him in this world was crazy to Joel. “How are you a failure?”

“I lost the one thing in my life that fucking mattered,” Negan confessed, a shuddering breath falling from his lips when he thought about his past. “Everything I touched turned to gold once I left. Except my marriage. The one person who stuck with me throughout everything. We tried to have children. We couldn’t. I was an asshole. The biggest piece of shit out there. But I loved Lucille. And she loved me. And what did I get? I lost her. I lost my wife Joel. Does that really sound like having everything?”

Silence. That’s all that followed because Joel couldn’t exactly have a comeback with that one.

“You had everything I wanted,” Negan stressed with a broken sound. “A family. Children. The perfect wife. And you let her go. In my eyes, your life was perfect. In your eyes, my life was perfect. When in reality? We were both so fucking stupid.”

Curling his fists up into balls, Joel didn’t know how to respond to all of this especially since a part of him wanted to beat the hell out of Negan, “I’m not doing everything I am because I want to rub my life in your face. I’m not doing it to hurt you.”

“Then why are you doing it?” Joel questioned, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Because for once in my fucking life, I want to do something good. I want to use my power to make people happy,” Negan reasoned with Joel, tossing his hands up in the air in an emotional moment. “When Lucille died, she begged me to promise her that I would live life for her. And I did.”

Negan’s bottom lip trembled when he thought about his late wife, “I’m sick of being a selfish bastard. This money? It means nothing to me. So if I can use it to help people. To bring joy to someone’s life, why shouldn’t I do it?

A rush of guilt flooded through Joel’s veins. In that moment? He believed what Negan was saying and it made him feel bad.

“But why me?” Joel couldn’t understand why he was even an option here.

“Is it so hard to believe that I fucking like you? That I missed you,” Negan wondered, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “The two of us were best friends and we were separated from a fucked up situation. But the only people to truly even know me were Lucille, Tommy, Y/N and you. You were the only people that cared when no one else did. I’m doing this because I want to do this for you. I want you to be fucking happy Joel. I want you to have the things you long for. Because I care about you.”

Silence fell over them. Both of their breathing was labored when Joel stepped back and away from Negan. Looking down toward the ground, the lines in Joel’s forehead grew deeper. Stepping forward, Joel reached for Negan’s shirt again, balling up the material to pull Negan close. Instead this time, Joel pressed in close to Negan. Resting his forehead against Negan’s, Joel’s eyes came to a tight close. The warmth of Negan’s breath was over his lips. Faintly his lips brushed at Negan’s and he didn’t know what he was doing. This was all so confusing for him.

With a shuddering breath, Joel stumbled back when he heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner and he tried to move away from Negan.

“I’ve been looking for you two everywhere,” Tommy’s voice drew their attention making both Joel and Negan look to him. Even though something was just happening between the two of them, it didn’t seem like Tommy picked up on it. “I bought drinks for everyone to celebrate. We’ve been looking for you guys. I didn’t expect to find you out here.”

“He just needed some air,” Negan lied, stepping around Joel in order to head back toward the bar. “I’ll be inside.”

“You okay?” Tommy inquired once Negan was gone leaving Joel alone with his little brother. “You should be on cloud-nine right now because that was awesome. Beter than I could have ever pictured it going. You had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand. It’s what you always wanted.”

Tommy was right. That was what he always wanted. And it was hard for him to truly see that, but after everything. Joel didn’t know how to feel. 

----

Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv

@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis @jennydehavilland

[butchcarmy]

Blood Orange (Ch 2: The Bathroom)

Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18, MDNI)

Rating: E (5.7k)

links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 1

Chapter Summary: No more fucking your boss. That’s what you’ve been telling yourself, but he doesn’t make it easy, even as you find yourself wanting to scream. Somehow it all falls away when you lower yourself to your knees before him. You don’t know if there’s any stopping this anymore. 

Content Tags: work sex, blow jobs, mouth fucking, CUM PLAY, dom/bossy carmy, coworkers with benefits, carmy being difficult, mental illness, they/them reader, gender neutral reader, the usual

A/N: WHEW. It’s here! Thanks for waiting y’all. I think I embarrassed myself writing this one (flushed emoji). It’s ramping up. Next chapter is gonna be big one. Let me know what you guys think, and enjoy! <3

Before you go to work the next morning, you make yourself come on your fingers. It would've been twice if you had more time. 

You open your eyes waking from a dream with his ghostly blue eyes and low voice, and you already know you're wet before you even touch yourself. The pads of your reaching fingers chase the tender spot Carmy stroked inside of you, but they don't quite make it. Of course they don't. 

Fingering yourself eases the ache for a little while. On the early morning transit with headphones over your ears, you still manage to find yourself aching for him. The music doesn't cover up the sound of his voice, and you catch yourself grimacing in the faint reflection of the dirty metro windows. 

This is not a good way to start your second day at work.

Since you left the walk-in yesterday, Carmy's been following you around like a mosquito in the summer, whizzing around your head, buzzing in your ears. You can't rid your thoughts of him. When you close your eyes, you're trapped in the fridge with him, again, and his fingers are deep inside you. 

Fuck. You're standing in front of the restaurant, willing yourself to go in. Just stop it, you think to yourself. 

You really should be more mad at him. He technically never apologized for insulting you, but you suppose you didn't expect him to in the first place. You didn't usually get apologies at places like this, from people like him. You don't want to get in the bad habit of expecting good things from broken people.

No more fucking your boss, you think resolutely to yourself, and that's the thought you meditate on as you open the door. 

By this time yesterday, there were already a couple of people floating around the kitchen. Today, you find dim lights and silence. Your footsteps feel too loud on the white linoleum as you walk to the lockers to drop off your stuff. You can’t pretend to understand the schedule yet.

“Carmen?” You pace around again as you secure your apron with a tie. No response. Surely he's here, at least. Someone had to open the place. 

You take a couple more steps when you hear his voice. 

“No, I'm not—that's not what I was sayin’.” The direction of his voice sounds like it's coming from his office. “Of course I miss him. Sugar—” A pause. “I know. Yeah. It's bullshit.” He laughs then, you think. You can't measure how genuine it is. “You're bullshit. Look, I'll call you back later, okay? And I'll—yeah, I'll look at it. Promise. Yeah. Bye.”

It's quiet after that. You're standing there, not sure what to do with yourself when you hear footsteps. Sure enough, Carmy pops out of the office, and you catch just a glimpse of something haunted in him before surprise takes over.

“Hi,” you say at the same time he says, “Jesus Christ.”

“How long have you been here,” he asks, as you go, “That's an interesting way to pronounce my name.”

“Um,” you start, and he stares at you blankly, unreactive to your joke. Too early, you guess. “I just got here.”

“Okay. Cool. Uh…” Anxiety radiates off of him, making his hands fidget and run through untamed hair. Not that you were looking at his hands at all. “You’ll be doin’ prep again.”

“Alright.” You expected as such. You’ll probably be on prep for the rest of the week, if not the month. That’s how most places go, but this isn’t most places. 

“Your station was dirty when you left yesterday.” You walk up to your station, and it’s spotless. “I had to clean it before I left.”

“Ah. I’m sorry about that,” you apologize quickly. I was preoccupied with other things, you think bitterly to yourself, thinking of locked doors and heated kisses. Not that you’ll mention it. “I’ll make sure to clean it this time.”

“Prep’s gonna be a bit different today,” he says, completely ignoring your apology. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping. “You’re gonna inspect produce, and then you’ll prep the stock again. Correctly this time.”

“It was nearly perfect, I just misplaced it,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah, nearly.” Looks like he heard you this time. Asshole. He places a box of onions on your station, rattling the table slightly. “Do I have to tell you how to sort out the bad ones from the good ones?” You’re honestly not sure if he means that as a jab, but the way he says it makes your insides sizzle with irritation.

Don’t take it personally, you remind yourself. Don’t. Take. It. Personally. 

“How about you show me just in case? Just so we’re on the same page.” It’s a wonder how calm you keep your voice. To your surprise, Carmy doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t sigh, he just nods and proceeds. Every time you think you’ll predict him properly, he does the opposite. 

You follow the line of his callused finger pointing to brown splotches on some of the onions. Intently, studiously, you examine the dark spots (indicative of mold), the sprouts (initial stages of deterioration), and the mushy areas (a sign of decreasing freshness). He’s talking about details as he seems to do when it comes to food, even elaborating on the farming process, but you don’t quite pick up that part. You just pay attention to the parameters you need to follow.

No more fucking your boss, you remind yourself again, because you catch yourself aching at the sight of his fingers. Your eyes have a hunger of their own, flickering up and down his muscular arms. God damnit. Maybe there’s another reason you can’t quite pay attention today. 

“Are you listening?” Carmy’s pointed question snaps you out of it. Fuck. You hope he didn’t catch you staring at his fingers again.

“If I can save it and just chop off the bad parts, then I should,” you regurgitate on instinct. “Those are the best ones to use for the stock. Otherwise, I should just toss it.”

For a split second, all he does is fix you with his focused stare. You feel the intensity of it in your chest, your beating heart fluttering with its weight. No matter how many times you scold yourself for finding him attractive, your eyes can’t ignore what’s right in front of them. You find yourself counting his moles. 

“I caught you staring,” he murmurs, “for real this time.”

“I—uh—” Your eyebrows are so raised you’re sure they’re bound to shoot off your warmed face. He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t. You weren’t going to mention yesterday, and after your first interaction this morning, you were sure he wasn’t going to, either. Guess you were wrong again.

“I’ll be in the back if you need help. The others should be here soon.” He’s moving on without giving you a chance to recover. Your brain can’t process the shock. “Just call if you need anything."

Before you get a chance to scrounge up anything to say, you’re alone in the kitchen again. 

This time I'm really gonna do it, you fume internally. Because you have a healthy amount of anger management, you don’t let yourself continue that thought.

Sydney is the third person to show up after you and Carmy. You give her a nod and a thin smile as she walks in, and she waves back. Soon after she arrives, the others trickle in one by one. As you're learning to expect, the quiet never lasts for long. 

There are tasks circling you just like yesterday that you don't fully grasp yet. Everyone seems to be instinctively following their own schedule, their circadian rhythm matched to the chaotic ecosystem of the kitchen. It’s just as suffocating as it was yesterday. You remind yourself that as a new hire, you don't need to understand the madness yet. Nonetheless, an invisible pressure presses down on you. 

“Hey, d'you mind telling me where this produce goes?” A triple stack of filled containers sits heavy in your arms. With Sydney out of the kitchen, Marcus is your next safest option in terms of coworkers. His head flicks up from where he was focused on kneading dough. A streak of white flour is across his nose. 

“Oh, that one's bottom shelf, near the back.” He claps his dusty hands together, flour falling between them like snow. “Here, I'll just show you. You know where the walk-in is?”

With Marcus, it doesn't feel like there are any stupid questions. It's a gift you don't take for granted, especially around here. You let him lead you to the fridge again, even though you remember where it is. It doesn't hurt. 

“Thanks. I'm, uh, still having a hard time figuring out where stuff goes,” you say after you put the produce away. 

“It’s cool. It's only your second day, right?” You nod. “Just takes time. Don't sweat it. You ever work in a restaurant before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.”

“Then you know what you're gettin’ into.” That makes you laugh. 

“Sorta.” You shrug. “To be honest with you, I just need money, and I like cooking enough, so…now I'm here.” You're not quite as honest with how desperate your situation was on the verge of coming, but it's fine. Not really the time and place for it anyway. 

“I gotcha. That's how it was for me too, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, that's how I started at McDonald’s. That was a while ago now.”

“I see. It's better here, I hope.”

“Hard to say,” he says, but there's a little smile on his face. “For the most part, Michael was cool, but—”

“Michael!” You blurt out, startling the both of you. “Holy shit, I'm sorry. I've just been trying to remember the name of the previous owner for forever now and—wow, sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

“It's fine.” Marcus has this amused expression, but it dissolves quickly. “You met him?”

“I did. I came here a couple of years ago when I first moved. Just once, but—anyway, what's his deal?”

“His deal?”

“Yeah, like, why'd he give the restaurant away? Carmy said he didn't want it anymore.”

“Oh.” You can't read the way Marcus’ face shifts. “That's what he said?”

“...Yeah?”

“I see. Okay. Uh…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I know how this sounds, but just try not to bring Mike up for now. It's still kind of a sore subject.”

“Ah, my bad.” Your brain instantly supplies stories of estranged families, sibling spats, and stolen money. You suppose it's a sour sort of relationship—something you're intimately familiar with. “Can I ask what happened, or…?”

“I'll tell you later,” he replies evasively. “You know what else they got you training on today?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. The nosy part of you wants to hear more about the Berzatto family, but the responsible part of you reminds you to cool your jets. “Carmy just told me I was on produce. Know where he's at? I peeked into his office, but he wasn't there.”

“Oh, he just left.” Your blank stare makes him elaborate. “He's off doing Carmy things.”

“Doing Carmy things?” Looks like the person in charge has abandoned you yet again.

“Business stuff, probably.” Marcus shrugs. “He does that sometimes. He probably won't be back for a while, so I can help you with training for now if you want.”

“That would be great.” There's a remark on the tip of your tongue about poor management, but you hold it. “Is Carmy a better boss, at least?”

“Compared to Michael?” You recognize sadness in Marcus’ pinched brows, even if it's only momentary. “I dunno. It hasn't been long, but this place has been running more smoothly since he started doing things.” Your shocked expression makes him laugh briefly. “I know, it used to be worse if you can believe it.”

“I'm not sure that I can,” you admit. 

. . . . .

The next several days at work continue to test your patience. While Carmy keeps you on prep, keeping your tasks simple, he continues to find ways to keep you on edge. You stiffen up every time he enters the kitchen, waiting for him to point out yet another mistake. 

Chef, this cut's too uneven. Chef, you're taking too much time on this. Chef, you should’ve cut this part off. Chef, you’re creating too much waste. 

Yes, Chef, you always reply, even as his comments become more and more grating. A childish part of you wants to do a worse job out of spite, but another part of you is hungry for his approval far more than you would ever admit. You wonder if he's this tough on everyone. 

The incident in the walk-in does not get mentioned again. A childish voice in you wonders if Carmy has forgotten about it. Of course he hasn’t, but every time he critiques you, you wonder about the Carmy who kissed you. You wonder what that Carmy's thinking, because you have no clue. 

Has he been thinking of you, too?

This is how things should be, you remind yourself after you touch yourself for the fourth night in a row to the thought of him. Your fingers are wet, and your wrist is embarrassingly sore. I can't have sex with my boss again. I just can't. 

Would it be different if he also touched himself to thoughts of you?

You desperately suck your own cum off your fingers, and you wish it were his fingers instead. It doesn't taste the same. 

The bright lights are irritatingly bright when you come in this morning. It looks like you're the first person here again, other than Carmy. You hear his irritated voice as soon as you enter, which is clearly a good sign. 

“I appreciate you thinking of me, I do. I do. It's just—” He sighs. Looks like he's having another phone call. “I can't come back. Not right now.” Silence. “No, uh, won't happen for a while, I think. The place's fucked.” A shaky breath. “What? What did you say?

“The head chef asked about me?” Carmy's voice has gone tight. “I see. Of course he said that. No, it's fine.” Pause. “...I know what they've been saying. I figured they'd look down on me.” His laugh is hollow and painful. “Look, I got shit to do. Thanks for asking me, but it's a no. I can't.” Another pause, drawn out and tense. “Sure. Bye.”

After he hangs up, you hear him muttering to himself. You can't pick out any of the words other than the curses, but it sounds bad. As you put your things away, you silently pray to the abstract idea of a god to give you both strength of patience. Seems like you'll need it today. 

“Morning,” you tentatively greet him when he sees you. He's not surprised by your presence today, it seems. He nods back. 

“Morning.” His eyebags are dark with a lack of sleep. Upon closer inspection, his whole everything screams sleep deprivation, perhaps a bit more so than usual. His messy hair seems particularly unkempt today. “You're doing prep again today.”

“I figured.” 

“You need to get better about cleaning your station.” His words are full to the brim with irritation. “I keep having to clean it after you.”

“I thought I was—” You stop. Calm down, you think, but it's getting harder and harder to repeat. “Sorry. I didn't realize.”

“I told you the other day that it was dirty. Were you even paying attention?”

“Of course I was!” Annoyance bubbles over inside of you, potent and unbridled. Carmy barely reacts to your raised voice. Somehow, that pisses you off more.  The cap on your contained anger has popped off, and there's no fitting it back on. “Are you always like this towards your employees?”

“Like what?”

“Like an asshole?” You're too irritated to hold yourself back. 

“Depends. Are you always like this with your boss?” He retorts immediately. 

“I don't usually have sex with my boss, so no, I suppose not,” you respond stupidly, and that makes him go dead silent. He narrows his eyes, fixes you with his gaze. Like you're a new problem that needs solving or something like that.

God damnit, you think to yourself. Why'd you have to say that?

“You've been thinking about it.” The air feels thicker, suddenly.

“I never said that.”

“Then why did you mention it?” Shit. “You said you were going to do better.”

“And I have been. I've been trying to do everything you've been telling me to do.” You don't know why you take a step towards him. “You said you were gonna be nicer.”

“And I have been,” he echoes, and his sincerity makes you roll your eyes. 

“Bullshit! You've been nit-picking me all week!”

“We have standards here, and you need to learn how to follow them. That's all.”

“You're right! I'm learning,” you argue, throwing exasperated hands up in the air. “Cut me some fucking slack!”

“Then learn. Improve.” He slams a hand down on the aluminum surface next to you, enclosing you partially in. Being this close to him, you can really see how dark his dark circles are. You could easily move to the side if you wanted to, but something in you stays put. “There's no excuse for a dirty workspace in a kitchen. I thought you would know that already.”

“I'm so fucking sorry, chef,” you spit back with about as much venom as you can muster. Which, right now, is a lot. 

That shifts something inside him. You see it flash across his face—surprise, anger, and then…something else.

“Dirty work station and a dirty mouth,” he murmurs. His voice is lower, quieter, and it sounds just like how it did in the walk-in. You hate how that change instantly makes your heart pick up speed. “You think you get a pass to act like this because of what happened in the walk-in?”

“You motherfucker,” you hiss, meeting his glare with your own. “So now you're going to acknowledge it? And for the record, I get to act however the fuck I want. Especially with someone like you.”

“Someone like me.” He doesn't ask you to elaborate. He just laughs, breathy and condescending, and he's so close you can feel his breath fan across your face. “You think you're above all this, don't you?”

“What?” The question takes you so off guard that it almost dissipates the strange mix of anger and arousal simmering in your gut. 

“I know it doesn't feel good to have to take orders from someone you hate, but here's the thing. You have to.” He's not smiling, but you swear he's getting some sort of sick satisfaction from all this. Why else would he be saying any of this shit?

“I could leave right now if I wanted to,” you threaten him. “You won't be able to find anyone else that wants to work in this shithole of a place.”

“You're right. You could leave if you really wanted to.” His eyes narrow curiously at you. “Then why haven't you?”

You’re well within your right to leave already—it checks all the boxes. Chaotic work environment. Awful management. General workplace misconduct. Unprofessionalism between coworkers. You suppose you're partially to blame for that last one, but still. 

If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you told yourself. You're not sure why you're not listening to your own advice. The simple truth of the matter, though, is that other jobs won't have him. They won't have the man that's been keeping you up at night, the man that you want to simultaneously devour and destroy. They won't have Carmen Berzatto, and for some reason, that's all it's going to take.

You don't understand yourself. It scares you, but not enough. Not enough to leave.

“...I don't know why I haven't left yet,” you say quietly after a while. “I have no clue.”

“I see.” If he's dissatisfied with your answer, he doesn't show it. “Then for the time you're here, let's make one thing clear.”

“What is it now?” You sigh.

“I'm in charge here,” he whispers. His other hand is on the counter now. You're completely blocked in. “I'm the one who runs this place, so you're going to be good and listen to me when I speak.”

“You're not really giving me a lot of incentive, chef.” You lower your gaze to the counters next to you. “Maybe if you gave me something to work with.” You don't mean for it to come out as suggestive as it does, but with him surrounding you like this… 

“Incentive?” He brings a hand to your face, tucking his fingers under your chin to pull your gaze back to him. His touch is achingly gentle, but it forces it to look straight into his eyes. Your fidgety gaze catches glances of the dark blue speckles that border his pale iris. “Hey,” he whispers, “look at me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart's pounding like sprinting feet thudding on concrete. You can't place what feelings are excitement or anxiety or both, but maybe no separation exists. Shutting your eyes was a weak attempt to temporarily block him out, but now all you can focus on is the sensation of his rough hand on your hot face. 

Hesitantly, you open your eyes to face him. Ice blue and dark circles. His intense stare is difficult to match, but you try. 

“What do you want from me?” You ask quietly. 

“I want you to clean your station. Think you can do that?”

“Don't patronize me. Of course I can. I just—happened to forget.”

“Hm.” He smiles briefly. It's just a bit mocking. “You don't have a good track record so far, so you'll have to prove it to me.”

“...And how would I do that?”

“Depends,” he replies vaguely. “Depends on what you want.”

“What I want? I thought you were supposed to be in charge.”

“When I touched you, you told me you wanted to touch me.” The realization clicks in your head. “Do you still want that?”

You hesitate. Memories of the walk-in flood in. You remember the silhouette of his tight jeans over his bulge, and you ache. You shouldn't say yes. You really shouldn't. A distant voice says, you don't want to do this. What have you been telling yourself? This is a bad idea.

Unfortunately, it's far past a matter of want anymore. It's a matter of need.

“Yes,” you whisper back. Your fate is sealed. “I do.”

That's how you find yourself in the cramped bathroom with him. It's dark with one of the lightbulbs having gone out, making it feel even smaller. An eerie green cast coats the room. 

“You're going to show me that you can listen. That you can clean up after your messes.” He's leaned up against the wall, broad hands unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes shamelessly zero in on the motion. “Think you can do that much?”

“Of course I can,” you reply, but it comes out a lot softer than intended. 

“Good.” You force your eyes away from the outline of his bulge in his boxers to look at his face. His darkened eyes are trained on you. “Get on your knees.”

Oh, you think. So this is how it's gonna go.

You wish you could say that you hesitate even a little bit, that there’s even a shred of contemplation left in you. However, there isn't any of that remaining. Obediently, you fall to your knees, resting them against the cold, hard bathroom floor. You're at eye level with his unbuttoned jeans. Slowly, you raise your eyes to look at him. 

His downturned face is framed by wild strands of hair. Looking down at you casts darker shadows across his face, but not enough to hide his expression. It's an odd mix of hunger and what you think to be admiration. Surely not, but that's immediately the thought that comes to mind. 

“Waiting for directions, chef,” you murmur. 

“Mm. Right,” he says, like he was lost in thought. “You look better like this.”

“Watch it,” you warn him. “I could still bite your dick off.” To that, he just briefly smiles, and then it's gone.

He's pulled his black pants down just enough to let his clothed bulge hang over the waistband. The sight of it goes straight to the simmer starting in your gut. You watch his veined hand disappear into his boxers. He's doing this far too slowly for your taste. 

Finally, he pulls out his cock, nearly completely stiffened, and you can't deny the way you begin to salivate. 

You were right. It's big, though not just in length. His cock is thick. You immediately know you won't be able to take the full length of him into your mouth, but what fits is going to be a stretch. You're already imagining how those bulging veins are going to feel against the flat of your tongue. 

“Use your mouth for something other than talking back to me. Make me come,” Carmy orders quietly. “Enough direction for you?”

“Shut the hell up,” you mutter, ignoring the feeling of the growing heat inside you, and you pull the reddened, shiny tip of his cock between your lips. 

His pre-come mixes with the saliva on your tongue. You savor the taste of his salty musk, suckling slowly, and you hear him exhale shakily above you. Looks like you've been given something of an opportunity to get him back for the walk-in. Not repayment—payback. The distinction is important. 

When you pull back, thin strings of spit connect the pink head to your glistening lips. One of your hands moves to hold the base of his cock as you close the gap again. You drag your tongue down the side of his length, licking the thick vein you were eyeing earlier. You feel him twitch. 

“Do that again,” he breathes. Without question, your tongue retraces its path, running back over the line of spit it created. That gets you a quiet, strangled moan, and it's music to your ears. 

“Is this part sensitive?” You ask as you stroke the vein with your thumb. You suck your way down the vein again, making small, wet seals of pleasure. 

“Somewhat.” He sounds good like this, breathless and flustered. A smile twitches on your lips. You lick across the inside of your hand, wetting it before lazily curling it around his cock. He slides effortlessly in your grasp. 

“You gonna come already?” You can't help but tease. He's surprisingly reactive, more so than you would've thought. It's not that you're complaining—it's not that at all. The sound of his low groans is making you drip. 

“Hah—no. You'll have to work harder than that.” You feel a hand pushing back your hair, and that makes you raise your head towards him. His touch is surprisingly gentle. You watch the movement of his lips when he speaks. “Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue.”

You can't quite figure out what it is about all of this that makes you submit. Just moments ago, you wanted to wring your hands around his throat. It was far too easy to abandon your anger and kneel in front of him. Maybe it's the incomprehensibly part of you that undeniably needs his validation. Maybe it's the soft, low tone of his voice, gentle yet commanding. Either way, it has you obeying with a thought in your mind. 

You do as he says. You part your lips and extend your tongue. As your eyes flutter upwards towards him, you're struck with the impression that you must look obscene. 

“Perfect,” he whispers, and just the one word sends something of a euphoric rush through you. “Doin’ so good for me.” 

You soak up the praise, basking in the warmth of it. Then, Carmy spits onto your tongue, and his saliva slides towards the back of your mouth. 

You can't hide your surprise. Your breath hitches, but you don't say anything. Fuck, that should've made you angry, but it just made your clit throb painfully hard. 

He drags his thumb down your tongue, slow and sensual. You have half the mind to suck on it until he glides the head of his cock on your tongue, leading it into the heat of your mouth. 

“Ah—” You lose the words you were going to say, along with the empty space in your mouth. The tip of his cock's nearing the back of your throat. You breathe shakily through your nose. You were right again—you can't take him fully in. It's enough of a stretch as it is. 

“Fuck, that's it…” Carmy sighs. “Just like that…”

His hand holding your hair turns into a tighter grip as you begin sucking up and down his cock. It's an awful mess, the size of him forcing spit to drip down your chin. It's not just that, though. He's thrusting his cock back into your mouth quicker and quicker. You wish he would slow down so you could lean back and suck on his dribbling tip, but his hand has you anchored. 

Time slows as he starts fucking your mouth. Your hands fall to your hands. Your knees are starting to hurt. You care surprisingly little about that fact, instead opting to care about rubbing your clit as quickly as possible. When you get your hands under your underwear, you find your whole pussy already smeared in wetness. You've seeped through the fabric. 

When he pulls his cock out of your mouth (or rather, when he tugs you off), you think he's going to give you a new order. Or that he's going to say something. You don't realize what's really happening until it's too late. 

You watch him bring a hand to his cock. He strokes it twice, keeping his hand tight in your hair, and with a low groan, he comes.

With his hand on you, you can't move away. Not that you try. When the first glob of cum streaks your cheek, you freeze. All you can do is pause as he comes on your face. Even your hand under your pants has frozen, your palm pressed up tight against your pulsing clit. 

With each rope of cum across your face, you feel yourself throb. Carmy is a sight to behold as he comes, long-lashed eyes falling shut with his parted, gasping mouth. He's jaggedly fisting his cock as he just keeps coming. You feel the cum starting to drip down the slopes of your skin, even your lips. 

By the time he's come down, he's left your face an absolute mess. Your jaw feels heavy, and his cum is hot against your swollen lips. You've come down as well, and it's left you with the irate realization that he just came all over your face without asking.

“You could've at least told me you were gonna come on my face,” you snap. Your cheeks are burning. Your argument feels weak with how worked up you feel over watching and feeling him come, but the irritation is still very real. 

“Clean your station, chef,” he responds, infuriatingly smug even as he catches your breath. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Are you kidding me?” Of course. That's what this all was. A fucked up lesson, a twisted sort of discipline. 

“I'm not.” He uncurls his fist from your hair. “Stand up—your knees must hurt.”

You pause for a second before you shakily get back up on your legs. One minute he's messily fucking your mouth, and the other, he's worrying over your sore knees. He continues to become more and more confusing. 

“You're gonna make me clean up your mess.” You catch your face in the small, shitty rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. God, are you a filthy sight, cum and spit all over your face. 

“I had to clean up yours for the past week, so yeah.” He's zipped himself back up. He's clean, not a drop of anything on him. Unlike the mess parading itself on your face. At least there's not any in your hair. 

“This is not the same. This is—” You frustratedly search for the right words. He's remaining as stoic as ever. “You didn't even kiss me,” you blurt out, and as soon as you say it, you regret it. 

Carmy stills. You can't tell what he's thinking with his unmoving expression. You're sure he's about to insult you again, but then he’s leaning in and sealing his lips against yours. 

You're stunned. A small noise escapes you as he kisses you deeply, thoroughly. His tongue drags up a trail of cum and spit up your chin and back into your mouth. Or back into his. You're unsure, with the way they're all blending together. 

“There,” Carmy murmurs against your lips. When he pulls back, you see his tongue running across his lips, collecting the pearlescent sheen that was on them. 

“Um—” You start and immediately stop. You’re speechless. 

“Now clean up.” You hear the sound of distant company. Your other coworkers must be arriving now. “I expect improvement now, chef. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” you reply bitterly. “I suppose I met your expectations, then?”

“Sure. Closely enough, anyway.” Potent aggravation hits you like a cast iron pan. He drags his thumb in one last infuriating line across your cheek. He sucks it into his mouth and cleans it off. “Don't take too long. I have a lot planned for you today.”

Without waiting for a response, Carmy leaves. He leaves you alone in the shitty bathroom with a now flickering lightbulb, left to clean his cum on your face with water, hand soap, and thin paper towels. You don't know if you've ever been so angry before. 

The anger doesn't make the arousal go away. You rub your needy clit to orgasm, your back pressed up against the wall like Carmy's just a moment ago.

As you come with Carmy's cum slowly trailing on your face, you wonder if there is any coming back from this. If there's anything left to be done to stop whatever's happening. You can't come up with any solutions or suggestions. Only one thing is undeniably clear:

You hate Carmen Berzatto, and you're already thinking of ways to get his cock in your mouth again soon. 

~

taglist: @zorrasucia @carmenberzattosgf @thehouseofevangelista @alastorssimp @talas-starlight @jmamas92

[maniculum]

Gauging Interest in an Idea

I've noticed a couple notes on the original scorpion post along the lines of "wouldn't it be fun to engage in Bestiary Telephone and try to draw animals based on garbled descriptions?" And I was like, that wouldn't be hard to simulate, just find a friend to read you bestiary entries but not tell you what the animal is... and then I had a Thought.

I have access to an academic library and a reasonable fluency in Old and Middle English. I bet I could find a transcription of a bestiary in one of those languages, do a quick-and-dirty modern translation of each entry, and post them on here once a week with the actual names of the animals replaced by nonsense words or something.* Then people could try and draw them, with the same amount of information a medieval artist who had never seen this animal would have had access to.

*Yes, translations of bestiaries do already exist (I even have one on my shelf right now) but I don't know of any that are public domain and so I think it might be Not Cool for me to basically serialize the entire text on this blog.

I figure anyone who wants to play can post their drawings of the week's animal on their own blog using the randomly-generated nonsense-name as a tag, then at the end of the week I can round them up, link to the artists, and reveal what animal the text was actually describing. (No guarantee that the animal actually... exists, though. Lots of made-up critters found their way into these bestiaries over time.)

Before I get into finding & translating a source, though, I want to make sure there are at least a few people out there who would be interested in participating, because if nobody wants to draw stuff, then it's just a translation exercise for me, which, while fun, isn't an ideal use of my time. So:

I'm setting the poll for one week, and if there seems to be sufficient interest, I'll start getting the text together. (It'll probably take a couple weeks after that to get started, because I do have other projects and whatnot.)

[thankyouivy]

MORE JEALOUS REID!!! MORE!!!!

i think ive re-read your last blurb like 10 times I NEED MORE

R’s ex wont stop texting her so Spencer finds a way to let him know she’s doing alright (def more then alright ;) ) without him

OK THANKS ILY

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND! I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS PROMPT!!!

OOPS ITS BEEN A SEC. I’ve been super busy with finals and family stuff this holiday season!!! (merry Christmas and New Years if you celebrate!!) I'm trying to feed you heathens before I start working on the alphabet blurbs, prepare yourselves!!! this might be my fav blurb I've done so far….

Warnings: Smut (18+), exhibitionism, harassment from an ex, revenge in the form of recording good sex, oral sex [f rec], fingering, exobitionism, piv sex, marking/hickies, spencer says “good girl”, possessiveness, spence being a thigh man, vocal sex, dirty talk, praise, begging, riding, squirting.

!!the link with this colouring is to a p0rnographic image depicting a scene in the fic, be warned!!

———

Show Off - Spencer Reid X Fem!reader

You’ve been laying on his chest with your hands carding and tugging through his hair while since he got home.

Spencer’s hands caress your sides as you lazily make out, hands running over the soft cotton of your underwear and the warmth of your smooth skin. The only sounds in the room are the quiet, content hums and whines coming from your mouth, and the wet smacking of mouths licking into each other, but suddenly there’s a buzzing from under the sheets, which startles you.

You know it’s your phone, Spence always keeps his ringer on, so you both ignore it the first time, letting it go to voicemail. But when it rings again, you huff and fish for your phone under the covers, flipping your hair out of your face while using one arm to hold yourself above Spencer as you decline the call and place your phone on the bedside table. You look back to Spencer with a lust-filled gaze, leaning down to finish what you started, desperate to have some uninterrupted alone time with him after he’s been away for a few days.

Two minutes later, it’s buzzing again. You groan in annoyance, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to turn your ringtone off before, again, going back to Spencer.

Not even a minute later a series of ding’s are coming from the nightstand. You let out a frustrated whine, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you grumble.

“Work?” Spencer asks, voice raw and breathy from the previous heated moment. You shake your head and mumble something incoherent about “the jackass” into his neck. “He’s still calling?” Spencer asks, chuckling lightly at your nickname for your ex-boyfriend.

“Mhm” you groan, pulling your face out of his neck, the notifications still coming from your phone. He smiles sympathetically at you as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your jaw. “No matter what I do I can’t get him to stop! I considered changing my number, but my boss said I can’t ‘cause all my files and data are listed under this one. It’s gotten worse since I started posting photos of us on Instagram.”

“I can ask Garcia to blacklist his number from your phone?” Spencer breathes, rubbing your back in an attempt to relax you and try to think of a solution. “Penny already tried... it worked for a little, but you know you can’t blacklist disposable cells,” you frown.

your phone dings again, and before Spencer can stop you, you’re snatching your phone off the bedside table and frantically typing something before tossing it off the bed, and onto the carpeted floor in frustration.

Spencer chuckles at your dramatics before climbing out of bed to grab your phone off the floor, looking down at the screen. “‘Trying to fuck my FBI boyfriend who has a gun.’ really, sugar?” He huffs out a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your leg.

“Worth a try,” you shrug with a giggle. “It’s honestly just getting inconvenient, every time I get a notification I don’t know if it’s something important, or this dumbass,” you sigh.

“Remind me why you ever dated him?” Spencer teases, receiving a shove to his shoulder as he looks down at the phone again. “huh.”

You peek over his shoulder at the screen, draping yourself over his back, intrigued at his intrigue, “What is it?”

—

22:23 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:24 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:27 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:29 - Fucker: hey babe

22:29 - Fucker: miss you ;)

22:29 - Fucker: and those tits of yourss

22:31 - Fucker: wyd?

22:33 - You: Trying to fuck my fbi bf who has a gun

22:33 - You: Stop calling.

22:34 - Fucker: ur dating a fed?

22:34 - Fucker: he fuck like one 2? know u miss this d

22:35 - Fucker:u know u want me

22:36 - Fucker: u miss how i make you feel he dont make u feel like that and u know it

22:36 - Fucker: admit it

—

“Well- he’s got clear narcissistic tendencies and incredibly high ego…” Spencer mumbles to himself. “And a tiny dick,” you add with a giggle, kissing at his neck.

Spencer frowns at that, and you can practically hear the cogs turning in his head. He’s half upset at the knowledge that you ever had sex with this guy, and half upset that it was clearly not pleasurable for you, at all.

“You know… even though pathological narcissists often portray themselves as shameless, that is part of the act, they are extremely self-conscious. Humiliating them often results in them losing control of the image they've built, which causes avoidance and denial. So… theoretically, if I were to out-do him in the area that seems to boost his ego the most, which is clearly sex, he would back off.” Spencer explains, pulling you into his lap.

“Baby, even though we both know its true, if I told him you’re better in bed, he’d just deny it and get more aggressive.” You smile at him, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands fall to your waist.

“That’s true, so what if we had some… evidence... to back it up?” Spencer asks, blush appearing on his cheeks as you let out an exaggerated gasp. “Doctor Spencer Reid! Are you suggesting we film ourselves having sex to scare off my ex?!” You playfully hit his chest in mock-shock.

“I- yeah- yes-, b- but only if you’re comfortable with it- there’s no way he would share it, so there’s no risk o-” he stutters before you cut him off with a kiss.

“Yeah?… You wanna prove you can fuck me better? Got a big dick, long fingers, a good ass tongue, and know how to use ‘em, huh?” You ask seductively, slowly grinding yourself onto him in slow, teasing circles.

Mouth open in a silent groan, he looks down at your hips grinding on him before looking back up to you, open mouth turning into a smirk. “Worth a try,” He breathes, pushing his hips up into yours, swallowing your whimpers with a kiss, pulling you in by the the back of your neck.

Not breaking the kiss, he undoes your bra and pulls it off, running his hands up your sides to your chest. “Well he got one thing right; these ‘tits of yours’ are gorgeous.” He gropes your chest with his large hands as you giggle.

He stands up with you in his arms and flips you around, tossing you on the bed and climbing over you, sucking on the pulse point of your neck. “Can’t believe you used to let him touch you like I do,” Spencer growls into you, kissing over the mark he’s made.

“trust me, baby, he never touched me like you do- ah!”

You’re breathing heavy and whining as he teases you, no doubt trying to get you all worked up so you’ll show off just how desperate he makes you.

His hand traces shapes along your hip bone while moving lower down your body. He begins kissing along your chest, sucking and nipping as one of his hands dips beneath the band of your panties.

He teases you, laying his large hand flat over your lower stomach, applying a bit of pressure as his slender fingers dip into the crease of your inner thigh, touching you everywhere but where you need him.

You whine and wiggle your hips, desperate for some sort of relief from the swirling need in your core, but to your dismay he just continues teasing, pulling his hand out from your panties and running his middle and ring fingers over the mound of your clothed pussy.

You gasp as his fingers run down to the damp spot over your entrance. A groan muffled by your chest falls from his mouth as he attempts to press into you through the fabric before his fingers come back up to your clothed clit, moving in slow circles, pressing hard against you as your hips buck into the friction of the fabric.

“Spencer,” You moan, but it’s more like a plea, a plea for him to do something more, anything, really.

He chuckles at you, deciding that he’s done teasing (for now). He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off your hips and down your legs with a little help from you.

He moves down your body, sitting in between your thighs, torso hovering over your pelvis to get a good view of his work.

You let out a whine at the lack of touch. “Mm, impatient are we?” He mutters, running his hands over your upper thighs and spreading them wider. He grabs your phone off the bed and swipes over to the camera, keeping the camera flipped to the sheets, and hits record.

Humming in delight, he spreads you open with this thumbs, “Always so fucking wet for me,” he praises, gently rubbing up your pussy with his middle and ring fingers, pressing against your clit.

“Baby,” You gasp into a moan as your opening clenches around nothing and your clit pulses at the sudden touch. Spencer’s pupils are blown wide with lust as he gazes at you letting out little gasps and moans, completely enamoured by your body, bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth. “Fuck, sugar.”

One of his hands pulls your folds open while the other one plays with you. His middle finger runs up and down your folds, collecting your slick and rubbing it over your clit before teasing your entrance.

You whimper and push back against his digits, desperately trying to get his long, thick, skilled fingers inside you.

Slowly, he dips his middle and ring fingers into you, curling them slightly as he pushes them as far as they will go inside you, making you cry and writhe against him. His other hand works slow circles over your clit as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster and faster.

Little uh, uh, uh's fall from your lips as he pumps in and out of you. He bites his lip in concentration and lust, the wet sounds of your pussy reverberating around the room only heightening his arousal.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Mhm!" you cry out, eyes clamping shut in pleasure.

“Yeah?” he teases, smirking as he watches your eyes flutter shut once he starts rubbing that spot inside inside you that makes your vision turn white. Your jaw hangs open as strained moans leave your mouth, your hips arch off the bed, and your hands grip the sheets as you reach your first orgasm.

Spencer groans as he feels your muscles clench around him and your release gush around his digits, his hard cock twitching and leaking in his boxers. He slows his pace, helping you through your high with the consistent stimulation his gentle touches bring you.

“Good girl,” He whispers in that sexy grainy voice of his. You giggle breathlessly as you reach to stop the recording, looking down at him just when he pulls his fingers out of you.

Bringing them up to his mouth, he lets his tongue fall out, moaning in delight at your taste as sucks your arousal off his fingers, “Fuck, baby, I need to taste you.”

You wiggle your hips in anticipation as he hooks his forearms under your thighs and grabs your waist, his large hands almost covering the entirety of your abdomen. He lowers himself down, kissing and nibbling from your knee to the base of your thigh.

He roughly sucks and bites at your inner thighs, wanting to make marks that last for at least a week, marks that you’ll feel whenever your plush thighs brush together. He switches thighs while absentmindedly rubbing at your clit; too softly to get you off, but just enough to make you needy.

Just as predicted, you become a whiney, needy mess in a matter of minutes. You’re only knocked out of the pleasure-filled haze when Spencer pauses his attack to lean his smug face against your abused thigh and mumble, “He never went down on you, did he, sugar? ‘s that why you were so confused the first time I told you I wanted to?”

He phrases it like a question, but you know he already knows the answer. You avert his eyes when you nod your head, blush appearing on your cheeks as he coo’s.

“Awe, poor baby… ‘should show him what he was missing, yeah?” He mumbles, nipping the flesh of your thigh, his fingers still working gently over your clit. You whine, bucking into the sensation as you nod your head. “Go on, sugar, set up the camera,"

He goes back to sucking bruises onto your thighs as you prop the camera up on the plant pot that lives on your bedside table, angling it so the focus is on Spencer, and hit record.

Once you lay back down, he tightens his grip on your waist, keeping you in place as he licks a fat stripe up your pussy.

You let out a startled moan, slipping a hand into his messy curls and tugging, earning a groan from him. He kitten licks around your clit and down to your entrance, pulling away momentarily as your back arches off the bed to mutter, “god, you taste fucking incredible.”

He switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and lapping at the slick pouring from your opening, listening to your sweet cries. His tongue increasing its pace as wet, lewd, sounds from his mouth lapping at your pussy fill your hot bedroom.

Spencer watches from between your thighs as your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as your pretty lips part, letting out a strangled cry of pleasure as he suckles on your swollen clit.

Your squeezing your thighs around his head as you rock your hips into his face as you yank on his hair. Spencer groans, holding you in place as your thighs tremble, never stopping his attack on your cunt as your orgasm courses through your body.

He takes his time working you through your high and then cleaning you up, savouring the taste of your arousal as if it's not permanently stored in his mind through his eidetic memory and the sheer amount of times he's used his mouth on you.

He licks at you until your whimpering and physically can't take the overstimulation anymore, pushing his head away from your sopping cunt. He grins at you, lips and chin wet with a mix of your slick and his saliva as he licks his lips and pants, still catching his breath.

He crawls up your body, licking up your neck to your jaw, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips before throwing a smug look at the camera and stopping the recording, tossing the phone into the sheets as he goes back to kissing you, his soft lips mixing with yours.

You whine when you taste yourself on his tongue, that warm feeling in your core returning, and you know only one thing will calm your needy body.

You reach down, fingers tracing the lines of Spencer's toned stomach, dipping into his boxers, and gripping his cock.

He hisses at your touch, "fu-uck- we- we don't have to, sugar, you don't need to- I can ju-"

"I wanna. I want you..."

You hook your heel around his hip and flip the two of you over, so you're on top, biting your lip and moving so you're straddling his upper thighs.

You pull his rock hard cock out, stroking it as you watch Spencer's head fall back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent moan.

You fish for your phone in the covers while you continue stroking him, loving the way his eyebrows knit together and his chest rises and falls sporadically.

You grab your phone and move up further, so your pussy is right at the base of your boyfriends dick, his hard cock resting on your tummy, the tip hitting just below your belly button.

You snap the photo, and grin when you see the filthy image. Your perfectly manicured hand is placed delicately over the base of his cock, his tip is an angry red, and has a bead of precum collecting and threatening to spill against your stomach as you show off his length.

It's perfectly sinful, and you can feel yourself getting wet just looking at it. You can't stand to wait any longer, lifting your hips off him and grabbing Spencer to direct his tip to your core.

You rub his tip through your folds to lubricate it, just like Spencer always does before entering you, with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and he swears he could cum just at the sight.

Your hands find purchase on his pelvis, bracing yourself as your eyebrows knit together and your eyes flutter shut as you sink down onto him.

Finally bottoming out, you feel perfectly full, the light stretch his thickness brings you feels incredible. His hands find their place on your defined hip-bones as you breathe, getting used to the sensation.

Once you know you're ready, you flex your thigh muscles and lift your hips slightly, and with the help of Spencers hands on your hips you start to create a steady rhythm, fucking yourself down on to your boyfriends fat dick.

"Baby," Spencer gasps, sounding like he's had the breath punched out of him. You manage to smirk at him, despite the moans falling from your mouth as you start to thrust your hips down faster and faster.

"So beautiful like this, sugar- god, look at you, fucking desperate for it, taking what you need from me- fuck-" He goans, dilated pupils gazing at you with nothing but lust. You feel to tight and warm around him, Spencer can't help himself; he begins thrusting his hips up to meet yours, hitting that one spot inside you perfectly over and over again.

You yelp out a moan and twitch as your orgasm flows through your whole body, like giant waves rolling over you. Your toes curl and your nails scratch even marks down his toned chest, earning a hiss from him.

Your thighs stutter and begin losing the rhythm you created, hunching forward over his chest. Spencer takes the hint and plants his feet firmly on the bed before he begins thrusting up into you at a quick pace, forcing a yelp out of you as you fall onto his chest.

You can hear his whimpers and groans in your ear as he chases his orgasm, biting his shoulder to hold back your screams.

"Ah! hng- harder, please...," You moan into his neck, and Spencer's resolve finally cracks. He grips your hips harder and forces your hips down onto him, forcing his cock fully into you every time.

You gasp brokenly and surge forward to kiss him sloppily, moaning absurdly loudly in between kisses, scratching and yanking at his scalp.

"I- I'm so close! Spence- please-," You moan into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red crescent moons in their wake.

"Shit- me too sugar-"

"please! please... wanna feel it in me..."

He groans, looking down at where he's thrusting into you, reaching down to toy with your clit as you attempt to fuck yourself down onto him, despite how Spencer's caged you in.

"Spencer-," you cry out as you cum for the final time, completely at his mercy. Your pussy clenching and fluttering around him as you gush around him.

His hips lift off the mattress, pulling you flush against him and rubbing your clit impossibly faster as he pumps you full of his cum, jaw hanging open in ecstasy as his high washes over him. You all but scream in pure pleasure, your body spasming as more liquid spurts out of you.

When you come down, you feel the steady rise and fall of Spencers chest as he pants under you, not even daring to move off him. Spencer's hand cards through your messy curls, as you catch your breath, grinning down at him.

Once the two of you catch your breath, he pulls out of you with a choked breath and you roll off him with a whine. He quickly pads over to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth to clean you up and some water for the both of you.

Before he can even start to clean you up, you stop him. He gives you a quizzical look when you hand him your phone, but you just bite your lip nervously. "I- um- I never let him fuck me without a condom, he'll hate it..." You mumble, and you swear you can see his cock twitch when his eyes widen.

Without another comment, he blushes and snaps a picture of your fucked out body on top of the wrinkled sheets. You body is shining with a thin layer of sweat, your hair flowing across your shoulders and the pillow under your head, Spencer's cum dripping slowly out of your sopping pussy.

He cleans you up and makes sure you drink water, changing the sheets while you get ready for bed in the bathroom, and then happily holding you as you fall asleep in his arms.

Before falling asleep himself, he opens your phone and sends your ex a message.

—

23:25 - You: *Attachment: 2 images, 2 videos*

23:25 - You: She is doing just fine without you.

More of my stuff can be found here.

~ Ivy 🪴

[cheollipop]

hello nora babes, choy here, arriving to the sleepover with a hard thought she came up with on one unrelated, silly, innocent day... care to indulge her a bit? xoxo

picture this! (that's an order lol)

y/n is long-distance friends with dom!wooyoung...

woo: rub one out for the team❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 y/n: i'll keep you in my thoughts ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 woo: think of me when you cum too y/n: DJSHXJD

... and like usual, they're just rambling themselves mindlessly into slumber, letting their fingers type what they think on the spot, when reader drops an nsfw-link on him very randomly, just as a joke,

woo: so you had your fingers on you while you sent me that link, y/n? woo: how naughty of you… y/n: … y/n: in me

until it becomes very clear that both of them aren't just holding their phones anymore.

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

choy you MENACE- short circuited reading this eriejdbrk it took me a hot minute to figure out how I wanted to structure this drabble but,, I think I quite like how it turned out (posting before I can have second thoughts ><) but um. yeah. ahem. happy reading~ :3

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.08k

tags: smut, phone sex (sexting), masturbation (f), lots of dirty talk, mentions of somnophilia + creampie kink

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

what a good girl you are,

giving youngie such a good fucking show

[4:24 AM]

And you were. Your panties hung off your ankle, pants long since thrown off in a direction you couldn’t recall, your legs spread wide open with two fingers stretching you open. The sliver of moonlight shining through the parted blinds reflected onto the sweat beading over your forehead, while that coating your thighs remained concealed by the shadow cast by your duvet. Breathy moans blew out of you, your eyes squeezing shut before reopening to check your screen for new messages.

You didn’t plan for this to happen, for an innocent friendship riddled with flirtatious banter—that you thought was entirely ‘just for fun’—progressing to this: touching yourself to Wooyoung’s words, the both of you naturally slipping into a role you’d wordlessly assigned to each other. Part of you wondered if he was doing the same, yearned to witness the pretty flush of his skin as he pumped his cock to your needy replies, but the pleasure you were feeling, encouraged by his lust-driven words, made you all too delirious to ask.

who knew my precious y/n would turn out to be a cumslut?

not only does she want so much cum filling her hole up that it leaks out of her

but my baby wants to come and come again, until she’s too sensitive to touch~

[4:26 AM]

Your pussy gushed hot arousal, sensing it push past your fingers and down to sink into your sheets. Clenching tightly at his words, your mind wandered and painted images of how Wooyoung’s cock would split you open to stuff you full of his thick cum, how veiny hands would find their way between your legs to play with your clit, mercilessly gliding over the sensitive nub until your body spasmed and shivered in his firm hold.

Spreading your thighs further, the duvet sliding down your body and allowing the cool air to infiltrate its interior, you curled your fingers into your g-spot and drowned out the sound of your squelching pussy as you desperately chased your high.

youngie will definitely touch baby when she finally falls asleep

and he’s gonna cum so many times

so so many fucking times on his baby’s body

[4:27 AM]

You shuddered at the thought. Your skin tingling, imagining Wooyoung ravishing you in your sleep, warm hands caressing your skin while you slumbered, dipping between your folds to feel how wet he’d made you earlier, drawing small circles over your sensitive clit and watching your muscles jerk unconsciously. He’d trace the hole he’d stretched out less than an hour ago, a trail of his cooling cum still seeping out, and he’d opt to plug you back up with his cock, making sure you held on to his seed for more hours to come.

You wanted to wake up in the early morning to the blackbirds’ harmonies, the warmth so eminent in your lower belly making you drowsy again, but Wooyoung would awake to the gentle squeeze of your walls around him, and fuck you back to sleep with a fresh pool of cum in your womb.

want to use you like the fuckdoll you are

because you're such a good fucking girl

the perfect, sluttiest baby, youngie could never get enough of you baby

[4:28 AM]

You huffed in annoyance as your orgasm remained out of reach, your thighs shaking as you flipped onto your stomach, laying your phone down on your pillow so you could read the incoming messages while your fingers continued to pump into your pussy, a stream of watery slick now dripping down your forearm. Your vision blurred as hot shots of pleasure seared through your body with every forceful prod into your g-spot, violent trembles overtaking your limbs as you fucked yourself to completion, all while Wooyoung’s words staring back at you through the bright screen.

You wished he could see you spread out for him like this, cunt up in the air and leaking as you thought about his cock ruining it, squeezing around his throbbing length so tight he’d never want to pull out. You wanted him to find himself unable to hold back from fucking you dumb every chance he got, for his every thought to be occupied by your cunt, your taste, your sweet sounds. You wanted his mouth on you, nose nuzzling into your clit while his tongue danced around your hole, slurping up everything you gave him before pushing his fingers past your entrance and forcing you to give him more.

Fuckdoll. You wanted to be Wooyoung’s fuckdoll. For him to use you like a toy, hammering his cock into you until every last drop of his cum had been milked out and swallowed by your greedy cunt.

youngie wants to make his baby cry

wants to make her cry out in pleasure

want y/n to shake from cumming so hard

[4:30 AM]

With the images now engraved into your mind, you reached your other hand down to touch your clit, your eyes rolling back and your spine arching painfully at the first contact. Black dots danced in your unfocused vision, the chat bubbles mushing together into one blob of light, and your sore muscles contracting when your orgasm finally rushed through you. Fingers chasing your retreating hips, your walls clenched sporadically while you attempted to elongate the pleasure, your body tense and nerves on overdrive during your descent down the steep hill of your high.

You could see more messages come in, but your eyelids drooped in exhaustion, and your fingers moved languidly to squeeze out the last of your energy, tingles of pleasure numbing your curled toes.

Flopping down onto the bed, you felt your cum drying on the inside of your thighs, a pool of it drying on the sheets under you. You rubbed damp, pruney fingers into your sore hips, reaching out to grab your phone with a shaky hand. Blinking slowly, the breath you’d just managed to even out quickened once more, heart hammering against your ribcage, and you eyed the call button for longer than you’d like to admit. It was a simple message, and despite this being the first time you’d done this with him, Wooyoung seemingly knew exactly how your body operated. He knew what you wanted to hear, what made you clench around your fingers, what made you leak and arch your back, and most importantly, what made you come.

is my baby cumming?

[4:33 AM]

[arc852]

First Meetings 1/3

Summary: How Jimmy met Grian and Joel.

Warnings: anxiety, being/feeling trapped, and hunger pains

Word Count: 2295

AO3 Link

It's finally time! Let's see how Jimmy met Grian and Joel in the BBBCAU!

This is gonna be a slightly longer story, which is why I'm splitting it up into three parts! I'm still working on part 2 though so it might be a few days until the next chapter. It took me a while to figure out how I wanted their first meeting to go but I think I'm quite happy with what I've come up with! So I hope you guys enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Jimmy opened his wall entrance slowly, peeking out and taking a look around. His entrance was hidden behind one of the humans’ desks, so he was safe to check and make sure there were no humans in the room.

 Once he deemed the room empty, he came out of the walls fully and prepared for a quick raid of the dorm room. It had only been a week since classes had started up again, which meant things were still a mess in a lot of the dorm rooms. Especially the ones used by freshmen. Humans who were fresh to college, still learning and getting all of their stuff together. These were the rooms where Jimmy found the most things and he was always excited about what kinds of things he would find.

 He adjusted the strap of his bag as he came out into the open, glancing warily at the door for a brief moment. He should be fine, it was still early enough that if the humans weren’t here, then they were still in class. He should have plenty of time to borrow and then get out.

 Confident in his reasoning, Jimmy’s gaze left the door and wandered around the room. There were some clothes strewn about but with them on the floor like this, Jimmy stayed away from them. He couldn’t be sure if they were dirty or clean and he would rather be safe than sorry. Besides, humans usually noticed when clothes went missing. Jimmy really only felt comfortable taking clothes if they were already lost.

 That’s how he had gotten his current bed, a sock that had fallen between the bed and the wall as the human was trying to fold their laundry. They never noticed it missing and so Jimmy had dragged it through the walls and back to his home. That had been years ago now, and the sock had been good to him. 

 It didn’t look like he was going to get anything like that out of this room though. He’d probably do well to focus on getting some food. He was running really low, so some crumbs, maybe a full chip if he could manage it, would be great.

 So Jimmy walked around the room, looking behind the piles of clothes and underneath the nightstands for any food that would have dropped. So far, there wasn’t anything but Jimmy still had a lot of the room to go. He headed over to the opposite desk, heading underneath to see if any crumbs had gotten stuck in the carpet. The desks and beds, both under and on top, were most likely to have food, since that’s were he noticed the humans eating the most.

 But as he made it to the desk, there was a sound that made Jimmy’s blood run cold. The jingling of keys and the turning of a knob. Wasting no time, Jimmy ran the rest of the way underneath the desk and hid himself behind one of the far legs. Just in time too, because as he settled the door fully opened, revealing two humans. They were just legs to Jimmy from this angle but that did nothing to lessen his fear.

 “--try to finish it all tonight.” One of the humans spoke, in the middle of talking already as they had entered the room.

 “How much did you get? Aren’t you only taking three classes this first semester?” The other one asked. Jimmy tried to peek out more, to try and get a better look at the humans in order to see what they were doing. He wasn’t afraid of being seen from here, he knew humans barely ever looked down, let alone in the corners and underneath their own desks.

 The human who had just spoken was wearing a red sweater and just threw his backpack underneath his desk. Jimmy winced a bit and then was thankful when the other human, one who appeared to have a green streak in his hair, placed his backpack at the edge of his bed. 

 “Yeah, and two of them aren’t super homework heavy. But my other class definitely makes up for that.” The green-streaked human said, letting out a sigh. “I want my weekend free though, so if I focus I can probably get it done before dinner.”

 The red wearing human hummed and Jimmy watched him nod. “Yeah, I’ll probably do the same. I’ve got no more classes today either and having the weekend off sounds great.”

 Jimmy bit his lip. That did not sound good. Both humans seemed to plan on staying in the rest of the day and since Jimmy’s exit was currently on the other side of the room, he had no choice but to wait. Hopefully they would both leave for lunch or dinner. Otherwise he had to wait until they both fell asleep.

 And knowing college students, that could be a while.

 Jimmy sighed and started to settle into his spot, only to jump and just barely hold back a yelp as the chair in front of him got pulled out. Jimmy slammed a hand over his mouth and pressed himself back into the wall. The human was just taking a seat but the suddenness of it had caused Jimmy’s heart rate to spike.

 The human pulled himself forward but Jimmy was still far back enough that he was still at least a foot away from the human. Still, he was no longer comfortable staying here to hide. One wrong swing of the human’s foot and he was as good as dead. Or caught. Either one was very bad.

 Thankfully, the desk was pushed right up next to the bed and so Jimmy shimmied along the wall until he was out from the desk and hidden under the darkness of the bed instead. Jimmy let out a little sigh of relief, no longer feeling cramped from having the human so close.

 He stayed by the wall and took a seat, leaning against it. Might as well get himself comfortable with how long he would have to wait. He ducked his head a little and watched as the other human’s feet disappeared, probably getting into his bed to do his homework there. Both backpacks were still where they had left them, so Jimmy could only assume they were doing their homework on laptops.

 “Alright, let’s get this done.” The human with the green-streak said. He heard the other human hum and then the air was filled with sounds of typing and clicking. 

 Jimmy sighed and waited.

***

   Nothing interesting had happened and no opportunity for escape had presented itself throughout the rest of the day. Grian and Joel (he had learned their names as he sat there waiting) had continued to talk with one another as they worked on their homework. He had perked up when they had talked about getting something to eat but was disappointed when only Grian left to go pick something up for them.

 As the humans ate their food, Jimmy’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since early that morning. He pushed the feeling away though. Even if the humans made some mess and dropped something, he couldn’t go get it right now. Not without being seen.

 He settled back in as they had continued to work, until finally, after many hours, Joel let out a short exclamation. “Done! Finally.” He heard Joel close his laptop and the human leaned back in his chair, stretching. His feet hit the back wall and Jimmy was glad he had moved.

 Joel pushed the chair back and stood up, stretching again once he was standing. He heard Grian chuckle. “It’s about time. I’ve been done for an hour now.”

 “Oh good for you.” Joel said, his voice taking a mocking tone. Grian laughed.

 Jimmy placed his head in one hand, leaning against it as he watched (though all he could see were Joel’s legs at the moment) and listened. These humans were interesting, that was for sure. He hadn’t been as bored as he could have been, listening to them talk and go back and forth with one another.

 But even so, no matter how interesting a pair of humans appeared to be, he would much rather be back in the walls and away from the threat of being caught. He didn’t expect to be seen, he was careful and in a spot a human wouldn’t look in, but the longer he stayed the more his anxiety began to grow.

 Unfortunately, it looked like he would have to wait longer. “Want to celebrate with a movie night? I’ve got some popcorn in my bag.” Grian said and Jimmy barely heard Joel’s reply of yes as he sighed in frustration. He knew this would be a possibility though. From his time in the dorms and watching many college students, he knew they tended to stay up way later than they probably should. It was one of the things that made borrowing here hard, which was why Jimmy tended to go out and borrow while the humans were in class rather than at night.

 He heard them shuffling around, talking as they got the movie set up. The smell of popcorn filled the air and once again Jimmy’s stomach reminded him how long he had gone without food. And once again, he pushed it back down.

 The two humans settled into bed and the sounds of the movie began to play. Jimmy leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the movie and imagining what could be happening on the screen. Despite his want to get out of there, it was kind of nice. He had never been this close to actually watching a movie before. It sounded fun.

 Eventually, the movie ended and the humans went to their own beds. The lights turned off and he heard the shuffling of blankets but Jimmy still waited. After maybe another hour or so, Jimmy finally felt confident enough to try and make his way back to his entrance into the walls.

 He stopped short of the edge of the bed, looking up and at Grian, since he was currently the only human he could see. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. He was definitely asleep.

 He then stuck close to the nightstand and rounded the corner in order to peek up and look at Joel. He was the same, steady breathing and closed eyes. Jimmy let out a little sigh of relief. He wasted no time in running back across the room, back to Grian’s desk where his entrance was located. 

 Jimmy grinned, relieved he would finally be able to get back home. Grian’s backpack was still there but he went to the side of it to get to his exit. His smile turned into a frown, however, when he realized the bag was too close to the wall in order for him to get through. “No…” Jimmy let out a little noise of frustration, going over to the other side of the bag to see if it was any different over there.

 It wasn’t.

 The bag was too full, making it a heavy roadblock. Meaning, despite how small Jimmy was, he couldn’t push his way behind the bag. He tried, he really did, but it didn’t so much as budge and Jimmy quickly got scared at how much weight it held. He backed away, wondering what he was going to do now.

 This entrance was the only one he had in this room and going out into the hallway was definitely not a good idea. It didn’t matter how late it was, there was always a chance some human would be walking down the hall and then Jimmy would be as good as caught.

 No, he was well and truly trapped within this room.

 But that was fine. He would just wait until tomorrow. Grian would pick up his backpack to go to class and then there wouldn’t be…a…problem…

 Wait, today was Friday, wasn’t it? Friday was the last day of the week for classes. He knew that and Grian and Joel had just been talking about it earlier too. Tomorrow was the weekend and both humans had already completed their homework. Which meant…

 Which meant there was no reason for Grian to pick up and move his bag for at least another two full days.

 Jimmy leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it until he was sitting against it. He threw his head back and let out a quiet noise of frustration and worry. He was trapped in this room for the rest of the weekend at least. 

 Honestly, he felt like crying a little.

 He shook the feelings away though. Crying wouldn’t help him.

 He stood up and went underneath Grian’s bed. He didn’t want to stay underneath the desk, just in case Grian did need his backpack before the weekend was over but staying underneath his bed at least left him on the right side of the room. Once the bag was lifted and the humans’ backs were turned, he could take the opportunity to get back into the walls.

 For now though, he let himself lay down, using his bag as a makeshift pillow as he tried to get some sleep. He wasn’t sure he would be able to, but he at least had to try. Just because he was trapped in this room, his anxiety growing more and more at the thought, didn’t mean he could forgo his rest. He needed it more than ever in this situation anyway.

 He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way he could hear the humans’ breathing and shifting.

 Eventually, he did fall asleep.

[schrodingers-romy]

Lemon Blueberry [Suzuri Shuhei x Reader]

Pairing: Suzuri Shuhei x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2300 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Shuhei bakes for the first time, with you

Warnings: Spoilers for the manga (suzuri's backstory and current occupation); also warning for light mentions of Stuff Pertinent to his backstory as well; no gendered pronouns or terms are used for the reader; kissing; feeding each other food with your hands idk; written with aged up suzuri in mind

Notes: wrote this a while ago and it's barely edited but I haven't seen any suzuri fics so I have to make my own food <3

The light of the setting sun bathed the kitchen in its soft honey glow. Your focus shifted for just a second, away from the finicky stand mixer in front of you to the window, no doubt admiring the clouds cast in their colorful glow. And as cliché as it sounds, Shuhei thought that you are undoubtedly more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.

And to think he used to mock those who loved…

It still seemed like a dream sometimes. Partially the idea of making an honest living, enough for the rent on an apartment and a healthy three meals a day without stretching it; things he fought bloody tooth and nail for in the past were now within his grasp. And even more than that, he was fulfilled emotionally and mentally in a way that he never was before. He had pride in himself now, not the false, vindictively bitter and caustic ‘pride’ he had before, but true pride. The sort that came from improving, and learning, and going to sleep every night feeling content in himself and his actions.

(In his darker moments, he feared going to sleep, just in case when he woke, he was back There and all of this was the machinations of his starved mind.)

If it was all a dream, Shuhei thought, you were certainly the cruelest part of it. You, who befriended him back when he was still the starved, bruised wraith who first started working in the kitchen of a fancy red light restaurant, scrubbing plates until his hands peeled. You, who knew his dirty past from Tsubaki, but never looked down on him for it. You, who treated him like a person, and who made him feel more real than he had in years. You, who through soft smiles and gentle teasing and homecooked meals gave him his first taste of what falling in love must feel like. He never really believed in any sort of benevolent god (what sort of good god would let him suffer as he once did, anyway); yet he prayed every night that this (that you) were real.

Seemingly oblivious to his thoughts, you broke the silence by giving the mixer a theatrical slap on its side, like you were patting the flank of a beloved horse. “Are you ready?” you asked.

He nodded a little stiffly, hoping you hadn’t noticed him staring. (Although, you were a bit oblivious, he thought, because he is horrible at hiding his infatuation with you).

Shuhei had been over to your house a handful of times, mostly to hang out, or for dinner. This is the first time he would be helping in your kitchen. Despite the fact that he had been learning all that he could about cooking from his job, he had never baked something in his life. And that’s where you came in.

After hearing that, the first thing you suggested was for him to come over so the two of you could bake something together, and he had jumped at the golden opportunity to not only learn a new skill, but also to spend time with you (and also to eat good food, but that was a given).

“I hope you don’t mind, I had something picked out already,” you said, as you adjusted the colorful containers of ingredients situated on the counter in front of you. “Cookies are kind of the obvious thing to bake for your first time, but I have a recipe I think you’ll really like.”

“And what’s that?”

You turn the full force of your smile to him, and he squints a bit. “Lemon blueberry bread! I know you like the taste of fresh fruit, so I thought this would be perfect. And it’s not a very difficult recipe anyway.”

You were right…as you usually were about him. He had never told you, but he did gravitate towards fruit when he had the chance. Fruit was a luxury he could never really partake in where he used to live; it spoiled quickly and couldn’t be kept down when it was bad. Even the thought of fresh lemons and blueberries had him salivating, and you laughed at his eager expression.

“You know me so well,” he said, careful to keep his voice from being too sappy.

You flashed him another smile, and presented him with a measuring cup. “Can you measure out the sugar for me?”

-

Shuhei was a fast learner, and it was no different with baking. He had a lot of questions, and you answered them to the best of your ability.

“Why do you add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients instead of the other way around?”

“I’m sure there’s probably a scientific reason for it that I don’t know…but it is less messy than dumping a bunch of powder, and when you pour the liquid, it mixes a bit instead of just floating on top.”

“How do you know it’s done mixing?”

“Depends on what you’re making. Here it should look uniform and smooth…see how there’s still some little lumps in there? It needs to go for longer. Some recipes need to be mixed for a long time, so they get more air in them…doesn’t really matter for this though.”

“Why are you putting flour on the blueberries?”

“It keeps them from sinking when it bakes, so you get blueberries all the way through the bread instead of just at the bottom.”

“Can I eat some of it now?”

You hesitated for a second. “Well…you’re not really supposed to eat stuff with raw egg in it, but we should have a little taste, so we know if we need to add anything.” You pulled a spoon out of seemingly nowhere and dipped the tip of it in the yellow batter. Shuhei expected you to hand the spoon to him, but instead you held it up towards his mouth, and looked at him expectantly.

He could feel his face heating up at the fact that you’re feeding him; and he panicked a little bit. He ended up biting down hard on the spoon when he tried to taste the batter, making an audible click.

The two of you winced in unison, his from pain and yours from sympathy.

“I’d give that a zero out of ten for gracefulness,” you commented, “But anyway how does it taste?”

Shuhei felt even more red than he was before, but through his embarrassment and the pain in his teeth, he can still taste the bright citrus flavor. “It’s good.”

“Knew it!” you crowed, and then you gave him a heart attack by using the spoon to take your own sampling of the batter. “Mmmm. Yeah. We did good.”

You used the same spoon that he had just had in his mouth. That was essentially an indirect kiss.

You were going to be the death of him.

-

After the bread was placed in the oven, and all the dishes were washed and put away, the two of you sat down on the couch to await the ding of the timer.

“So, how do you feel after your first time baking?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Shuhei knew you wanted him to enjoy it, and he privately thought it was cute of you to be so invested in his happiness. Luckily for you, Shuhei loved making food (and he loved spending time with you). “I feel good. It was fun, I just hope it turns out good.”

Your laughter leaned more into a cackle than a giggle, but he still thought you were adorable. “I thought you’d like it! And I’m sure it will be delicious, especially since you helped me.” You shuffled a bit closer to him on the couch to give him a teasing poke, your eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up in amusement. “Oh, does my help make it better?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know…didn’t your boss tell you you had ‘the magic touch’ with food last week?” you said, smirking at him. “Maybe you added some of your magic to this bread.”

He scoffed, turning away from you to hide his blush. “My boss is too nice. I just pick things up quickly, that’s all. ‘S nothing special.”

You poked at him again, repeatedly with your finger until he turned back towards you to smack your hand away (gently, because he didn’t want to hurt you). Your face had dropped its previous joking expression, replaced with a painfully open one. His heart caught in his throat at the soft curve of your mouth and the warmth in your eyes.

“I think you’re pretty special,” you said earnestly; your eyes shine with something he can now recognize looks a lot like love.

The timer sounded at that moment, and you sprung up from your spot to go check the bread. You moved suspiciously quickly, like you were embarrassed at your admission.

Shuhei remained sitting on the couch, frozen. He felt more dazed than when Tsubaki had cleaned his clock with a kick to his head. He barely dared to hope…but maybe, just maybe, you also felt for him what he felt for you.

-

The bread was already out of the oven and cooling when Shuhei pulled himself together and entered the kitchen. The two of you stared at the cooling bread in silence for a moment. The kitchen is filled with the warm scent of baked bread and sweet lemon. Shuhei felt the urge to lick the bread so he could finally taste it. His stomach growled, breaking the silence.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” he finally said.

“Oh my gosh, same,” you said. “It smells so good I think I’m drooling.”

“How long do we have to wait to eat?”

“I mean…really we should wait until it fully cools so we can put the glaze on…”

He turned to give you his best starving puppy dog face (a face he has created and perfected in the time he has known you).

You hesitated, glancing between him, the bread, and the unused glass of lemon glaze. He could see the conflict in your eyes, until you finally gave in, shoulders slumping as you sigh.

“Y’know what, it’s cool enough. You wanna do the honors?”

He was a little clumsy with the glaze, and most of it is absorbed into the warm bread, but you applauded him when he was done anyways. “Okay now, you’re officially done with your first bake!”

“Time to eat?” he asked eagerly.

You broke out an oversized bread knife, which glinted in the light. (If you weren’t so cute, Shuhei thought, it would look threatening). “Yup!”

-

You sit next to each other on the hard kitchen floor, each holding a thick, warm slice of bread in your bare hands, because you were both too hungry to grab plates and utensils and move to a table.

You gave him a nod, and he took his first bite.

If Shuhei thought the batter was good, the finished bread was heavenly. It was soft, but still packed a powerful burst of tart lemon flavor, and the blueberries had cooked down into an almost jam-like consistency that gave the perfect sweetness to the rest of the bread. Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire slice ravenously.

When he looked back up, you were still holding your own slice, forgotten as you stared at him.

He felt a burst of self-consciousness. He knew he still ate like a rabid animal sometimes; his mind and body still remembered what it was like to starve, even when his stomach was full.

But you don’t look like you’re judging him. Instead, you have that same shine in your eyes again.

“It’s good,” he said lamely, to break the tension.

You simply smiled at this and broke off a piece of your own slice of bread, holding it out to him, towards his mouth (once again).

Shuhei was careful to be gentle this time. He tried to keep from touching you, but your fingers brush against his lips anyway. His skin burned where you touched, and he burned even more under your unmoving gaze.

He reached out for your bread, breaking off a piece himself. It’s clear you expected him to eat it, but it’s his turn to surprise you. He held out the chunk of bread to you, fingers trembling minutely with his nervousness. He resolutely kept his eyes on you, even though he could feel his face radiating heat, so he didn’t miss seeing the shock on your face, and the light glaze to your eyes as you take the piece from his hand.

Your lips were soft when they touched his calloused fingers, and his heart stuttered when he felt the lightest touch of your tongue.

You finished the slice off that way, feeding each other pieces without speaking a word. When it’s finally gone, he reached out one more time, to grab your hands and cradle them in his own.

Shuhei knew how he felt about you; he never really thought you felt anything more than friendship for him, but this night had opened his eyes. Even if he was wrong, after all of this, he finally had the courage to find out what you really felt.

He waited to see if you pulled away, but instead you edged closer to him.

“Hey Shuhei,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless.

The way you looked at him was so filled with tenderness; it almost made his eyes water. “I like you,” you said. “I like you, so much. I might love you.”

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a shuddering exhale at your words.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he confessed. “But I think it’s love.”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

Your lips were even softer when they were pressed against his own, and the flavor of lemon and blueberry was even sweeter when he licked it from inside your mouth.