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#But anyway. They get to have a talk and then set down some rules for some safer knife play during sexy times
lover-of-mine · 2 days
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Okay, so, time to write the blue and yellow meta: deranged version. Shoutout to @dangerpronebuddie for the thoughts that are helping me in this particular delusion (This is gonna have some copy/paste from the other one just for the context to be all in one post, but stay with me anyway if you read that one already I promise this one has more stuff)
Okay, so I have been going insane trying to figure out what the blue and yellow means.
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And now I have a theory. So for this one, I'm gonna use the fact that they are using the sun on a wall and that they completed the blue and green with Buck and Eddie at the gym scene with the bottle and the towel to assume I am right, and they complete these things with other elements of the scene, wall, decoration, everything.
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Okay, so, when tracking the blue and green thing so I could make this post, I kept wondering why there aren't a lot of Henren examples of it, this season has given us a few more scenes, but I'm pretty sure there are only these 2 before season 7. But like, I didn't think much of it even though I didn't understand why.
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But Anna, I thought this was about the blue and yellow, why you talking about the blue and green? Well, I think the blue and yellow is the blue and green for queer couples. Stay with me, I promise I have enough proof to create a reasonable doubt lol.
Okay, so, the other day I saw a henren edit that had their first date and I already had the yellow behind Eddie in my mind and was like, that's interesting, their first date is blue and yellow.
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Then, someone is making a Karen in every episode series, and I saw a set of her in yellow and was like "wait, I need to stop looking for answers in the straight couples, buddie is a queer couple, I need to see if this is a pattern that has already been established for the other queer couple, do henren have different rules?" and yes, I think they do.
Going back to the blue and green thing for a second, the easiest couple to track the blue and green is madney. Every couple has worn blue and green, but they have been blue and green since their first scene. And while they do wear blue and green for inconsequential scenes, they are in blue and green for things like getting back together in season 6, finding out Jee is a girl, the date after Doug, the hospital after Doug, the whole Boston episode is blue and green in nature, I talk about that in more detail in my blue and green applied to buddie meta if you're interested.
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So, assuming they are establishing the blue and yellow with henren in the same way they do the blue and green with madney, blue and yellow in important henren scenes sounded like a nice bet since the blue and yellow is present on their first date, right? And the same way Boston is inherently blue and green, tomorrow is very blue and yellow.
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But you don't really think I'm telling you I established a pattern with only one episode, right? Using other elements of the scene, considering the way they are using the sun a lot with buddie, I have quite a few examples, going back down to when they accept that the IVF didn't work and that they'll be okay. I also really like the way the club in fomo is lit in blue and yellow. (I'm trying to stay within the image limit so, tiny images, sorry lol)
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But Anna, you are using the wall a lot. Yes, I am using the wall a lot. Why am I using the wall a lot? You know how madney is the guide for the blue and green? Their house is blue and green. Like decorations and stuff. Mostly the kitchen, but still. The detailing there, the pans, the blue chairs, the blue couch. Even Jee's room is greenish and blueish.
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So, henren's house being yellow works, I think. Another point towards that is the way that Buck's bi awakening episode is blue and yellow.
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So, I'm gonna be insane and say the blue and yellow thing is the blue and green thing but queer.
Here's where I'm diverging from the first post I made, why? Well, considering my main point of reference was henren and the earliest conclusive example I could find was in 3x04 when they are talking about the IVF, I didn't look in season 2.
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But thanks to Maggie (💜) I went to look in Buck, Actually. To check Thomas and Mitchell.
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We have the blue and yellow shirt, the blue and yellow lighting, the blue cake with the shirt. They also use the sun in their happy contemplating life moments.
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Unrelated but I love the blue and green thing too much not to point this out and I just noticed it lol they have a lot of blue and green details too, the car, the driveway, the transition from a green cake to a blue cake, I just love that.
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But, since the blue and yellow exists in the couple that is supposed to show Buck what love looks like, I'm gonna go full crazy here with buddie and blue and yellow, because we are starting at Eddie's introduction lol just another nice little day in the they cast Ryan with a plan delusionland.
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Let's move past shirtless Ryan for a sec (yes, I could've used a different screenshot, but why would I lol) the bag above Eddie's head is blue, and there's that yellow thing behind Buck (Hen is also in yellow in this scene and everyone else is in the darker uniform so 👀)
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But this is nothing yet, in terms of crazy. How about the way that Hector's call is blue and yellow? And the blue and yellow lights in the ceiling of the ambulance?
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What if I told you the dialogue here is "Practice rounds have blue caps, gold caps are live."? Are you feeling insane with me yet?
I personally view the "you can have my back any day" as inherently blue and green, but Eddie's side does have that yellowish light in the middle there so, something else to consider.
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But moving on, there's a lot of blue and yellow lighting during the earthquake, but even I will have to admit that's because of emergency lights, so I will keep moving, I am crazy but I also know when to admit that this show likes warm lights and sirens are blue lol
Next up, we have the fountain. And the elf happening right after this, like 👀👀
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I couldn't find any other examples in season 2 tho.
I will admit that my season 3 examples are a really big stretch but, the grocery store, has blue, green, and yellow elements, mostly behind Buck.
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Them making up the station, also has the yellow light element.
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Other cutesy things I wanna point out are the summer camp talk and the cup thing, with the blue chair and the building.
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And I kinda have to add the recovery conversation because of the oven and the light behind Eddie.
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Also, they usually drink the genuine beer, that has a yellow label and the coming out scene has a beer with a blue label.
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Okay, but I skipped a bunch of shit here in the middle. Well, season 5 doesn't have anything that stands out to me all that much. Season 6, has the poker date.
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I'm kinda obsessed with the way that the coming out scene has Buck in blue and the yellow behind Eddie while he's dressed in black and the end of the poker date is the other way around. This one feel more on purpose to me than anything else that I pointed out, since this happens after tomorrow, where we see that in play with henren a lot.
But my question here is, if this is something that has been played with since season 2, what does this mean for buddie and survivors?
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This scene has some blue and yellow elements and it is the lead to the will reveal.
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And, well, the will reveal is undeniably blue and yellow. Their shirts are blue and yellow. And this scene reads as a love confession. It was talked about as Eddie's way of saying he loves Buck to the core. If you add this, and the elements of the shooting and how not platonic the they're in situation is, if any of this is true, then, well, what does it mean for this scene?
I kinda wanna go full conspiracy theory for a second, so bear with me. Buck coming out scene, Buck matches the lighting, everything around him is blue (in contrast to the kiss, where he is in a blue shirt but he has the yellow light behind him), kinda like what's happening with Eddie in the will reveal, but obviously, since Eddie doesn't really match, it's just in the same color palette, we can make an argument about him not being ready yet. Not like Buck is when it comes to his bisexuality now. Especially with the way this scene screams aborted love confession. So, since I'm already using this to fuel my Ryan got cast with a plan madness, I will also use this for my Eddie has been aware since season 4 madness.
This is long and kinda completely deranged but I think there is an actual argument to be made here, at least from season 6 forward, so this is my current theory, let's see how the rest of the season plays out 🫶
As always, if you read this I love you 💜
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd part here.
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
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Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
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Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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lizthewriter · 6 months
Text
i'm right here / billy loomis
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PAIRING  fem!reader x billy loomis
SUMMARY  you and billy had been dating for quite a while now. you had always been so dependent on him, so clingy, so needy, and you were starting to realize that maybe he didn't like you nearly as much as you thought he did. when you stop calling him and ignore him completely, he's not just angry, but he comes to the realization that he doesn't know who he'd be without you. he's lonely and he needs you just as much, if not more, than you need him.
TAGS  fem!reader x billy loomis, angst, fluff, if you squint, sexual tension, smut, only on the clothes stuff, billy wouldn't dare break my underwear rule, teasing, making out,, desperate men >>>, deranged men >>>>>, billy is a lil' toxic, just a lil' bit, cursing, slight stalking (come on, we're talking about ghostface here, get with the program)
QUOTE  "i'm calling you, pick up your phone . . . well i don't give a fuck about your friends, / i'm right here, here / well baby talk a look around, / i'm the only one that hasn't walked out, / i'm right here," - right here by chase atlantic
WORD COUNT  2.1K
WRITTEN  10.25.2023
A/N this is my first smut 😭😭😭😭 also i watched scream for the first time and if billy and stu weren't murderers ... omg 😭😭😭 anyways, i will get up another fic on sunday and one next wednesday ... PLS SEND REQUESTS FOR BILLY AND STU 😭😭😭😭
You once again hung up the phone in a huff - Billy has tried calling you for the fourth time that evening. You would have let the phone ring if the sound of it didn't set you off.
You tossed the clunky phone back onto the other end of the couch and settled onto the cushions with a relieved sigh. Finally, some time for yourself - you had been swamped with so much work recently, it was nice to finally take a moment to relax. You flicked on the television, channel surfing before the phone went off again. You groaned and picked up the phone, pressing the decline button before setting it back down. You let out an incredulous laugh at the irony of the situation. You were ignoring Billy because he barely spent any of his time with you and didn't seem to be putting anywhere near as much effort into your relationship as you were. You were so tired of being taken advantage of and eventually being walked out on by friends and family that you finally, for once, walked out on someone else first. But now, now that you've broken things up with him, he seemed interested in you.
"Asshat," you mumbled under your breath, finally settling on a channel playing some mildly entertaining thriller that was gripping enough to keep you interested, but not so much so that you were discerning and questioning every detail. You laid back down on the couch, head lolling to the side as you space out and got lost in your own thoughts. The one thing that startled you from your own head was the sound of the phone ringing once again.
More than irritated, you grabbed the phone and finally answered, shoving the clunk of plastic next to your ear. "Listen here Billy, I told you once and I don't want to say it again, I'm. Done -"
The voice at the end of the line spoke only your name in greeting, but it soundly oddly gruff and robotic. Not Billy's voice, which made you pause in hesitation. "Yes, that's me . . . what do you want?"
"I always thought The Sixth Sense was a sort of underrated masterpiece."
You launched up from the couch, fear settling into your gut as you glanced out the back patio doors outside. "What kind of prank is this? Stu, are you fucking with me again? Because I swear -"
"It's not Stu, sweetheart. Guess again."
You paused. It was a long shot. But why would he change his voice? You decided to play a little game of your own. "You know what I'm watching, so you must be somewhere outside, in the backyard, right?" You got up from the couch and stared out at the backyard, but no one was there. "Who is this? Randy? Bobby? Which ass decided to piss me off today -"
"I did." The voice, unexpectedly, came from behind you. You jumped at the sound and turned around to face Billy, who was holding up a portable phone. He hung up, tucking away whatever kind of voice modulator he'd been using, and took a step towards you. In return, you took a step back, placing your house phone on a nearby surface.
"What are you doing in my house, Billy? I'm having friends over soon, you can't be here."
"I came over to apologize."
"You?" You asked him incredulously. "Apologize? That's rich. I didn't know the word 'apologize' was even in your vocabulary."
Billy offered you a grimaced smile and took another step forward. "I really mean it this time, all right?"
"Oh sure, yeah, and I'm the Queen of England," you retorted with a roll of your eyes. You glanced at the clock and decided it would be best to prepare snacks now, before your friends got here. You began to walk past him, in the direction of the kitchen. "Go home, Billy, I'm done with you and your indifference."
Before you even took another step away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. He stared down at you, hunger, desperation, adoration in his eyes. You couldn't help but soften as you stared up at his face - even if you were doing this for yourself, you couldn't help but miss him. And fuck, was he the most beautiful bastard you've ever seen.
He ran his index finger along your cheek, his head bowed as his eyes trailed all across your face. "I didn't appreciate you like I should have . . . I realize that now. I guess it's true. You don't know how good something is until it leaves." He bowed his head closer and closer to you, and you couldn't help but feel yourself weaken. As though you hsd fallen prey to his seduction spell. You had to admit, it was easier to ignore his calls then to ignore his prescene, that sultry voice and those beckoning lips, the brown strands that you wanted to tug on oh so badly. "Give me one more chance. I'll prove it to you that I can be better . . . " And he said the one word you've never heard leave his mouth ever. His voice came out as soft as a whisper, as hot as the fiery gates of hell on your mouth. "Please. I need you."
Your breathes came out hot and heavy - you wanted him bad, so bad. But you knew you shouldn't. You always followed the same toxic, hurtful patterns. You needed to let go of the people that hurt you, but God you couldn't let him go. You tried to find an excuse.
"Billy, my friends are going to be here in ten minutes." Your voice came out much weaker, less assured then intended.
"I could give a flying fuck about your friends. They don't treat you right, no better than I did. Yet here you sit, cleaning the house, buying food and renting movies, all for people who could care less. If you're going to give someone a second chance, let it be me." He held up your hand, pressing gently kisses along the edge of it. His eyes met yours again, dark and lustful, filled with meaning. You just couldn't help yourself - you knew you'd regret this, but honestly . . . you didn't care anymore.
You finally grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down to meet your lips, hands tangling in those chocolate locks of his. His mouth tasted like pennies and cigarettes, apricot and clove. He was far from being shy, he equally reciprocated your actions if not overcompensated and pressed back into you hungrily. He was slightly rough with you, never enough to hurt you, only rile you up. He pushed you back towards the couch, your knees buckling as they met the cushions, forcing you to sit yourself down on the couch. His eyes roamed your body and he gestured towards your shirt.
You leaned up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him down to your level. "No. I'm tired of initiating. If you want me, come get me." You released his shirt, sitting back on the couch with crossed arms and watching his next movements.
His eyes widened in slight shock. You had never been one to take the lead and boss him around, but now that you had, he found it incredibly arousing. And he also felt he owed it to you to give you whatever you wanted. After all, he'd been a terrible boyfriend and if he was truly being honest, you deserved better. But that selfish, possessive side to him couldn't let you go, craved you like a starved man.
He pulled off his shirt, revealing the chiseled chest beneath. He wasn't paticularly buff, but he was certainly well built and plenty aesthetically pleasing. He bent down, latching his lips back onto yours. He allowed your hands to roam over his bare torso, smirking slightly at the groan that left your lips. His hands gradually slipped under your shirt, pulling it overhead and revealing the lacy bra beneath. As strong as he was, he was easily able to shift your position so you were laying along the length of the couch. He crawled on top of you, one hand laying atop your breast, the other being used as a crutch to keep him balanced. His lips returned to yours, wet and burning with passion, running along yours smoothly. His other hand slipped down to your waist, tightening around it as his tounge poked through your lips and into your mouth. You couldn't help the soft moan that left your mouth, hips rolling up to meet his. You jolted as you were met with something hardened, a shiver running down your spine.
"Billy . . ." You whined, eyes pleading with him to stop being so painstakingly slow. You wanted him and you wanted him now. "Please. I missed you . . . need you."
"S'okay baby," he responded, lips now meeting the skin of your neck. You missed the feeling of his nose brushing against your skin with every kiss, his roaming hands exploring every inch of your body, those glances from.his darkened eyes that almost unsettled you. "I'll take care of it, I promise."
He rolled his hips up into yours, causing a moan to spill out of your mouth. You had wrapped your arms around his back, hands digging into his shoulder blades. "Missed your pretty little moans, baby." He lifted his head away from your neck, hand running through your hair as he looked down at you. "Promise I'll be better, hm? You'd like that?"
He rolled his hips up again with a smirk and you shut your eyes tight, only able to respond with a high-pitched "mhm!"
"You're - such a tease," you gasped, opening your eyes again, a faint blush spreading over your cheeks.
"I thought you liked when I teased you, pretty girl." You hated the smug smirk painted across his cheeks, but the thing you hated the most was that he was right. You loved the teasing, the degradation, the humiliation, the praise. He knew just how to get you hot and bothered, so much so that you couldn't help but snap at him. You know he did those kinds of things on purpose just you'd give him an attitude and he'd get to punish you. But if you were being honest . . . it turned you on.
"Just - please."
"Please what?" He asked with innocent eyes, rolling his hips up harder but keeping the bulge in his jeans pressed against you this time.
You groaned loudly, clawing at his back. "Not - not fair."
"What's not fair? This?" He rolled his hips upwards against, drawing another moan from your lips.
"N-no, stop -"
He let out a mock sigh of disappointment and began to draw away. "All right, I'll stop, if that's what you really want."
"No!" You exclaimed loudly, grabbing his hand and pulling him back towards you. "Don't leave . . . please."
You wanted to smack that stupid little grin off of his face, but then he dropped his knee between your thighs and the words you had wanted to speak suddenly left your lips. He glanced down at your pajama pants, toying with the waistband teasingly.
"Say the words then."
"What?" You responded with furrowed brows.
"Say, 'Billy, I want you to fuck me.'" His eyes bore into yours - the sweet chocolate now turned to charcoal black. He loved the effect he had on you, he loved messing around with you. Especially when you got all flustered and embaressed like this. "Come on, say it. I know you can, sweetheart."
You paused. "Billy, I -"
The doorbell rang, followed by the sounds of giggles. Your friends all shouted your name and dissolved into another bought of laughter. You glanced back towards Billy, torn about what to do.
He pulled away with a gentle sigh, planting a final kiss to your forehead. "We'll pick this up another time, yeah?" Desperate sex with Billy was always good, at least, you thought.
You held onto his hand for a few more seconss before it slipped away as he walked backwards towards the stairs. He must have crawled inside your bedroom window like he usually does. "Okay. I'll call you in the morning?"
He grinned. "Sounds good, sweetheart. I'll pick you up, too."
The doorbell rang thrice more, your friends yeling at you to come answer the door. Billy grinned and departed up the stairs, but not before grabbing his shirt on the way out. You picked up your own shirt from where it had been discarded on the floor and pulled it on as you approached the front door.
Your friends greeted you enthusiastically as they entered your house and while they were all excitedly chattering about the movies you selected, you could only think of Billy, stupid, seductive Billy.
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: businessman!rafe x assistant!reader
summary: ward introduces his new assistant to the office, and rafe has to have her.
warnings: lots of flirting, secrecy, super sweet fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting
word count: 3.2k
a/n: i wasn’t expecting you guys to love the moodboard so much!! thank you to those who requested more of this pairing, i see all of your asks, comments, and reblogs <3 if you couldn’t tell by the summary, this specific oneshot is telling how everything started, so there is a very slight time skip. don’t worry though, it’s nothing crazy.
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“so if you’ll come this way, you’ll see the meeting room, which is where i’ll properly introduce you to the team in about fifteen minutes,” you followed mr. cameron, your new boss, around the cubicle packed room, smiling softly at those who cared enough to look up from their computers. “there’s not really much of a dress code, all i ask is that you dress for a corporate setting.” he lead you back to his office, where he asked you to take a seat.
“i won’t work you too much, i really just need someone who can keep me and my appointments with my clients organized. my son rafe, who is co-owner at the moment, will also be in need of your assistance, no worries though all he needs from you is to keep him updated on shipments and checking back in with clients to make sure they are more than happy with our services.” mr. cameron pushed a small stack of papers towards you.
“this is just the code of conduct, some expectations for here in the office. i’m gonna go take a phone call, and you can sign those documents in the meantime.” he patted your shoulder on his way out. you took a breath, flipping through the pages. everything looked pretty standard, all drugs prohibited, anyone under the influence will be asked to go home and will be terminated effective immediately, no firearms or weapons allowed while being in the building, etc…
then there was one rule, the only rule, in bold: ANY AND ALL ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS WITH THOSE OF HIGHER POSITIONS WILL RESULT IN TERMINATION OF BOTH PARTIES.
you hummed to yourself, mindlessly signing the papers with no clue of what was ahead of you. just as you finished signing the last page, mr. cameron walked in, flashing you a smile as you handed him the papers back. “do you have any questions for me?” he typed something up on his computer, the printer starting up soon after. “i do, actually. how come the rule for forbidding romantic relationships with higher ups the only one bolded? it’s not a problem or anything! i’m just wondering..” you cleared your throat.
“ah,” he stood up, “well the reason why it’s emphasized is because we want to avoid any and all legal troubles. lawsuits, investigations, it’s a really bad look for my company, and i would rather my employees keep their personal lives out of the office, especially those who are being paid very generously.” you nodded in understanding. “i see. very smart move.” you adjusted the ring on your finger, accepting a paper with your photo on it from mr. cameron.
“why, thank you. anyways, this is a temporary id for when you want to leave and enter the building. rafe is usually in charge of getting the id badges for our employees so he should have that ready for you by the end of the day.” he glanced down at his watch. “shall we get you introduced to everyone?” you nodded, making sure your head was held high as you two made your way to the already full meeting room. while everyone had been making small talk, rafe stayed silent while he stared at the blank presentation screen.
“good morning, everyone! i hope all is well, we’re here to discuss the construction plans for the skyscraper on the mainland, and i also have a new employee i’d like for everyone to meet,” rafe only saw your back profile, but with the view of your hips swaying in your tight pencil skirt and matching heels, it felt like eternity before you finally turned around, the sight of your perfect blowout and soft makeup doing something to his brain.. and his pants.
“this is y/n, and she is the new assistant to rafe and i. she comes from the mainland and has a degree in architecture, she is surely an amazing addition to our team, so i only expect the best treatment for her, as i do all of you.” you smiled, meeting everyone’s gaze, your heart stuttering in your chest when your eyes landed on him. he looked emotionless, but little did you know he was thinking of all the ways he could take you on his work desk.
“you can go ahead and take a seat, and we’ll get started.” you looked around, the only open seat being next to the man that made your stomach flip with a simple glance. you walked over, letting out a small ‘sorry!’ as you sat down, your knee bumping his. he didn’t acknowledge you at first, but once all eyes were on mr. cameron, rafe leaned in to speak to you quietly. “y/n, that’s your name?” you smelt his cologne before you could speak, the scent becoming your new favorite.
“yes, and yours?” rafe took your hand in his. “rafe cameron.” it took everything in you not to let your jaw drop. of course the insanely hot one was off limits. “nice to meet you.” you looked down, unable to maintain eye contact with him. rafe didn’t let go of your hand right away, clearly enjoying how shy he made you. “i’m assuming my father showed you around already?” you nodded, crossing one leg over the other. apart of you was slightly annoyed with yourself. you weren’t a shy girl, you didn’t avoid the stares of men, but rafe? he was a totally different ballpark.
“we’ll talk in my office after this.” he let go of your hand, smiling at you softly as you took out a notebook and pen, jotting down notes from what mr. cameron was going over. just like the rest of his father’s meetings, he wished this one would hurry up and end, wanting nothing more than to get you to himself already. thirty minutes later, and you found yourself sitting in front of rafe, both of you laughing about a topic he brought up.
“you know.. you carry conversation very well. a lot of people don’t know how to do that.” you adjusted your purse on your shoulder, both of you exchanging looks. he was wearing a white button down and slacks, his sleeves rolled up slightly. “thank you.” your words came out soft, the urge to steal a peek at his arms nearly unbearable. rafe examined you for a moment. “you dress very nicely, i like that.” he walked around his desk, leaning on the hardwood. “is this satin?” he rolled the fabric of your sleeve between his fingers.
if it was anyone else, you would’ve curled your lip in disgust before storming out the room and never looking back, but with the way this man towered over you, his eyes hungry as he stared you down, you met his gaze. “it is. and this? all leather?” it was a bold move, even for you, but if he was going there, you were going to meet him halfway. rafe sucked in a breath as your fingertips skimmed his belt. his hand came over yours, trailing it down his slacks, “we’re going to get along just perfectly.”
-
the next two weeks are a blur. first, you were too shy to look at this man, now he was stroking your thigh underneath the table during meetings. after he guided your hand over his hardening cock that fated day, it’s been nothing but hell for him, and you were enjoying every second of it. no one suspected a thing, and mr. cameron had actually told you to reside in rafe’s office for the time being while he worked to set you up somewhere nice. while rafe has been doing everything to get you where he wants you, you’ve been teasing him endlessly.
like today, you wore a black lace bra under your blouse, leaving it three buttons too shy so rafe could see what’s underneath. “mrs. thornton is on line one.” you’d bat your eyelashes up at him innocently, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he stared at your exposed cleavage. “you’re killing me, woman.” you’d laugh before getting out of his chair so he could take a seat. while he talked on the phone, you thought about the next way to torture him.
before you could start writing a dirty note for him, there was a light knock at the door. “come in!” rafe shouted, resuming his phone call while margaret, the receptionist, brought in the largest vase of flowers you’ve ever seen. “y/n? these are for you, honey.” you blinked, rushing to get up so you could take them out of her hands. “are- are you sure?” there was a small white envelope poking out the top. “positive. ask whoever sent you those if they have a brother.” she winked, leaving you dumbfounded.
you plopped down in one of the chairs in front of rafe’s desk, taking the envelope and revealing the small card inside.
you look beautiful everyday, so you’ll get flowers everyday <3
your head shot up at rafe who was already smiling at you. “sounds good, i look forward to our meeting mrs. thornton. yes, uh huh, alrighty goodbye.” you walked around his desk, rafe moving to face you. “did you get me these?” you took a seat on his lap, the most you ever let him touch you in two weeks. he sighed wrapping his arms around you as you read the card over and over’s again. “i did. ‘figured roses were too practical, so i got you peonies.” you smiled, pecking his cheek. “they’re my favorite.” there was a lot of intimacy going on right now that rafe wasn’t used too, but it was intimacy with you, it felt right.
“good to know. maybe we’ll get you through the catalog.” his hand rested flat on your tummy where your shirt had rode up. “you really didn’t have to do this. i love them.” you brought his coffee cup to your lips, your lipstick staining the rim as you placed the card back in the envelope. “i was thinking.. since tomorrow is the weekend and the office will be closed, why don’t we do something? i’d love to see you prance around in a bikini on my yacht.” he rested his chin in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.
“i bet you would,” you laughed, “that sounds fun. what time should i be ready?” you adjusted yourself, so your legs were hanging off his thighs. “mmm, how about two o’clock? we’ll stay to watch the sunset.” rafe stroked the side of your face, your eyes falling to his lips as you nodded. “i’d like that.” your voice dropped down to a whisper as he leaned in closely, his breath fanning the tip of your nose. “i want to kiss you so bad right now.” his jaw clenched as you ran a hand across his chest. “so kiss me, rafe.” you wrapped an arm around his neck to steady yourself.
just as his lips ghosted over yours, there was another knock at the door. both of you sighed, your foreheads resting against each other’s before you got up, taking the vase of flowers to your desk. “come in!” rafe wore an annoyed expression as mr. cameron walked in. “great timing, dad.” rafe grumbled, making a small smile grace your features. “listen, i need you to stay later and go over some of the projects that have been sent in, and flag the ones you think are worth investing in. i’m leaving so me and rose can catch our flight on time, we’ll be back by monday.” rafe nodded absently.
mr. cameron smiled. “good afternoon, y/n. flawless work these last couple of weeks, i almost forgot how easy things can be when properly organized. you have a great rest of your day.” you returned the gesture, tilting your head slightly. “why, thank you. i hope you have an amazing flight.” mr. cameron walked out, leaving you and rafe alone once again. “just what i wanted to do tonight. work overtime.” you watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i could stay with you, help you out.” he shook his head. “i couldn’t ask you to do that. don’t worry it really shouldn’t take me that long.” you waved him off.
“don’t be ridiculous, i’ll be more than happy to review the submissions with you.” he wasn’t going to tell you no, so he let you have your way. after a few hours passed by, you made your way to the front desk where margaret was getting ready to leave. “you have a good weekend, y/n. see you monday!” you laughed at how quickly she got on the elevator to go home. you walked over to the copier room and grabbed the papers fresh out the printer. “well, office is officially empty. margaret just left.” rafe yawned, loosening the tie around his neck. “damn, it’s eight o’clock already?” you placed the papers on his desk, humming softly.
you let your hair down from it’s updo, the waves falling past your shoulders. “what?” rafe was looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. he pulled you down, making you straddle him. “thank you for doing this with me. because of you, we don’t have to stay late after all.” his hands ran up and down your back, untucking your blouse from your pants. you shivered when you felt his fingers against your bare skin. “you welcome.” you tried your hardest to suppress the moan that sat at the back of your mouth.
“do you remember where we were before we were rudely interrupted earlier?” rafe started unbottoning your shirt, revealing your black lacey bra underneath. “fuck.” he closed his eyes, clenching his fists as if he was holding himself back from ravishing you right then and there. you smiled, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “there’s no one here to interrupt us now.” he grabbed the back of your neck, finally taking your lips in a heated kiss.
he groaned, making you grind your hips against his. this kiss was like something you’ve never felt before. there was tension, hunger, the desire building up over these last couple of weeks now rising to the surface in this very moment. the sounds your lips were making was enough to make you pull away, your cheeks reddening. “you gonna get shy on me now?” he tilted your chin up so you could meet his stare. “no.. i’ve just wanted to do that ever since i saw you in the meeting room.” rafe smiled, standing you up.
“you wanna know what i’ve wanted to do since i saw you in the meeting room?” his fingers worked to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your legs before pushing you back on his desk. you sucked in a breath as he ran a hand up your thigh, his finger slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear before letting the elastic snap against your skin. you gasped softly, your head falling back as rafe trailed kisses from your navel to your neck, slotting himself between your thighs where he leaned his weight on you.
you shuddered, his hands cupping your tits through your bra as he laid you down. “i thought about bending you over, fucking you to tears while you struggle to keep quiet.” his words elicited a moan from you, your hips lifting so he could slip your underwears off. “as much as i want to do that right now, i want to taste you more.” your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed wet kisses to your inner thighs, his arms locking you in so you couldn’t close them.
you thought you knew what pleasure felt like, but once you felt rafe’s tongue plunge into you, your mind went blank as he went to work on your clit, your back arching off the hardwood. he switched from slow languid strokes to fast flicks that made you see stars. “feels so good, rafe,” your hands shot down to hold onto his, your nails digging into his wrists. “yeah? like it when i tongue fuck you like this?” your body jerked when you felt him at your entrance, your toes curling in your heels.
rafe was loving this. you tasted so much better than he imagined, his cock straining against the fabric of his slacks. just making you moan and whine was enough to make him feel like he could cum in his pants. “please,” you whimpered, “please fuck me.” rafe pulled away, snaking up your body to align with your lust filled gaze. “i want to fuck you, baby, i do. but i want the first time i fill you up with my cock to be more heartfelt. i promise tomorrow that’s all we’ll do.” your heart swelled at his want to make you feel special.
“okay,” you whispered, tasting yourself on his lips. before you had a chance to think, he shoved two fingers inside you, thrusting them while his thumb rubbed hard circles on your clit. he was unforgiving, the wetness of your cunt echoing in the confines of his office. “oh, fuck,” your eyebrows knitted together as your mouth fell open, his eyes burning into your face. “do you hear how fucking soaked you are?” your chest was heaving at this point, your eyes rolling back as your thighs threatened to close around his hand.
the force alone was making you squirm, your orgasm so close you could taste it. with his thumb rubbing your clit faster, and his fingers curling inside of you, hitting that spot that made you scream, you came with a cry of his name. “oh, that’s it baby, that’s it.” he cooed, your breath stuttering while you shook in pleasure. you felt like fireworks were going off in your tummy, your eyes screwed so hard shut that you could see colors behind them.
“can’t- can’t anymore,” you whined, overstimulation taking over. he didn’t stop, determined to pull one more orgasm out of you. rafe kissed you again, swallowing all of your whimpers and moans as he managed to push you towards the edge one last time tonight. “fuck!” your mewled, your eyes shooting open when you felt a gush between your legs. “o-oh! i’m sorry.” you looked at rafe’s shirt that was not wet with your slick. “sorry for what, beautiful? i was hoping i could make you do that.” he pecked your forehead, easing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“you’re so perfect, you know that?” you blinked, your eyes shining up at him. “i don’t think i’ll ever be ready for this.” rafe groaned as you palmed him through his pants. “i don’t think i’ll be ready either.” he laughed, buttoning your shirt as you sat up. your legs were like jelly as you pulled on your underwear, rafe dressing you while you sighed blissfully. once you were both put together, rafe carried your purse and your vase of flowers for you as you two rode down the elevator to the empty lobby. he put your stuff in your car, making sure to shower you in kisses before letting you go in the driver’s seat.
“see you tomorrow?” he was leaning against your window as you nodded. “i look forward to it. goodnight, rafe.” he smiled. “goodnight, gorgeous.”
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ohmytyong · 8 months
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mark me in your heart
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PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)
GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)
WC: 13k (12,975)
‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic
SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.
A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3
read on wattpad / ao3
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“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.
Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.
It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.
Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.
Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.
This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.
Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?
It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.
You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.
“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.
“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.
Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.
Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.
Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.
You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.
Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.
“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.
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The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.
You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.
You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.
A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.
"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.
Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.
The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?
"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.
"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.
Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.
You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"
"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.
You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.
"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.
"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.
You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.
Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.
"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.
You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.
Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.
You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.
Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.
"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.
Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.
You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.
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The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.
Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.
You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.
“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.
You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”
His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.
You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.
Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.
Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.
Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.
Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.
Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.
That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.
You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.
As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.
But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.
You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.
“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.
He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him. 
Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”
You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.
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The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.
The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.
The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.
Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.
You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.
"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.
Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.
"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.
Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.
You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.
Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.
"It's not that I don't believe you-"
"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.
Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.
The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.
"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"
"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"
"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.
At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.
"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.
Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.
"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?
You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.
Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.
"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.
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The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.
All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.
As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.
He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.
You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.
“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.
Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.
Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.
You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”
Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon. 
“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”
You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.
Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.
You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.
“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.
Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.
“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.
Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.
Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.” 
With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”
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As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.
You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police. 
You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble. 
But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.
Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught. 
There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.
Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”
Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.
You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.
“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.
You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.
Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.
You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.
The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”
You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.
“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.
You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.
The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.
That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.
The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”
The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.
“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter. 
The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.
The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.
“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.
“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.
You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.
With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.
The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.
Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.
“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.
You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.
The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.
Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.
You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.
“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.
Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.
Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.
Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all. 
You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.
So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.
You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.
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The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.
A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.
After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.
So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.
You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.
Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.
Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.
As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.
Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.
Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.
Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice. 
“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.
“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular. 
“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.
The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.
But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.
“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.
Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.
Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.
Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”
“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.
“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.
You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”
“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.
A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”
Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.
It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.
“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.
You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.
You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”
You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.
His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.
With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”
Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.
His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.
The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.
The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.
Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.
You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.
Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.
"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.
You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.
Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.
His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.
Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.
Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.
The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.
"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.
Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.
"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.
"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.
Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.
"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.
A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.
He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.
The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.
The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.
Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.
"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.
"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.
The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.
You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.
Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.
Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.
The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.
"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.
"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.
You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.
"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.
"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.
Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.
As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.
After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.
"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.
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Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.
With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.
“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.
“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.
You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.
Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.
So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.
So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.
You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.
You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.
You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.
The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.
Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.
You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.
You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:
Dear Y/n,
You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.
So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.
I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.
I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.
Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.
But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.
So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.
I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.
So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.
Your beloved,
M.
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unluckilyimnot · 2 months
Text
lazy day with bllk boys
characters: sae, rin, nagi, karasu, reo
fluff
m.list || rules || requests are open :)
note: i had more ideas but i got lazy lmao, feel free to ask for more
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Sae + beach day
it’s better when it’s sunny but honestly he just needs it
he goes whenever he has a day off
you two usually eat around the harbor, take cute pictures, visit a little if you can
Sae loves beach more than anything in life but if you ask him he’ll never admit it. Yet that’s where he find himself naturally going when he needs some fresh air and needs to clear his mind. It happened to be rather cloudy today, but it means less people outside so he’s not complaining. He didn’t felt like dealing with people trying to talk to him. Beside you.
You always tag along since you’re a sea lover as well – and that you love collecting rocks.
“Sae, Sae look at this one !” you cheered while getting up and rushing to him. Showing off your really cute, red rock to him with a smile, he can’t help but nod with a little smile in return before offering his hand. You leave it to him so he could clean it up before giving it back to you. It’s an habit now, because you hate it when you have stuff on your hands.
You took his other hand and started walking around the beach again, admiring the view even without sun or boats. It was calm, just like you like as well.
“There.” He gave the rock back to you as he secretly promised and he couldn’t wait to see where you’re going to put it in his apartment.
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Nagi + gaming
understand : usual day off
he’s always gaming anyway but that’s the rare occasion you play with him
“Ah… Ah! Aaah!!” you whined, almost throwing the controller across the room. You fell on your back, laying down with open arms. “I think I’m gonna die now. It’s fine, I can’t face the shame.”
“You did great.” Nagi added quietly, already getting ready for the next game. You two were playing Mario Party together, one of the only game you play in fact. “Come on, I choose the next one.”
No answer.
“Come onnnnn.” It was his time to whine but when you still didn’t answer him, he had to use his special technique : laying flat on top of you. A strangle oof left your lips before you tried to pus him. It’s your tall, heavy boyfriend against your limited strength.
“Move !!” you command but it fell into deaf ear. You cry even more, not really in the mood to receive the treatment you gave.
“Okay,I’m sorry ! I’m ready now move please ! I can’t breath !”
“You’re a liar,” he started, pulling himself up on one arm. “You’re still breathing.” You roll your eyes at his statement.
“No shit.” you scoffed before pushing him for good. “I’m gonna win this time.”
Nagi only nod, knowing dawn well you won’t but still loving your enthusiasm.
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Reo + bath and skin care
he likes to take care of you and himself
his day off are dedicated to that
+ funny picture to decorate your wall
A mask now setting on you face, your whole body was immersed in hot, bubbly water and all your muscles were finally able to relax. Your back resting against Reo, you look up to catch him looking at his phone, with a mask on his face as well.
You two just had the best skin care routine hour and Reo had the wonderful idea to run a bath. That’s how you ended up with both you hair up and you blowing bubbles around like a child. It’s been a while, you missed it.
“Babe, hear this,” and then he goes on about some news about one of Mikage corporation’s partner and their research. You don’t get about everything about business but you still into it as well, but you weren’t really in the mood. Kissing his jaw, you answered.
“What about I don’t and you try to disconnect a little ?” You took his phone off his hand after whipping your hand. Reo sighs behind you but you didn’t mind. His head laid on your shoulder, waiting for you to come back in the water. After putting a soft, lofi background music you were back in the hot water and in your lover’s arms. Reo slowly stroking your arm while talking about some book he’d like to read, finally leaving work behind. You couldn’t ask for more.
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Karasu + reading together
he likes some quality time on his resting day
some tea, a good book and you reading by his side
Karasu couldn’t ask for more when you asked him to make another tea pot. You already have finish it when he only drank 2 cup, but it also mean that you’re really into your book and he loved that sight. You gasping from time to time, holding your month or even when it shows that it takes you everything to not get up to run laps around the house.
You know he likes to have close while reading session but sometimes it just physically hurt you. And he makes fun of you every times. His laughter filling the whole place, light and so annoying but you can’t help but tag along after a few second.
You can’t even give it back because he doesn’t react at all, annoying you a lot, but you accepted it in the end.
All of that with the tea he kindly makes every single time you two sat down in his living room to read.
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Rin + him reading for you or vice versa
depends on who’s tired
but he reads better than you
still find it calming when it’s you
“ “I’m just going to do it. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia.” “Huh ?” I asked –” you quoted, reading one of your favorite book to Rin. He was laying his head in your lap, kind of falling asleep from time to time but still catching up when something bothered him in your tone or the story.
“She’s annoying with her maze.” he noted.
“I think he is to not get it.” she answered, sounding a little offended. “He’s annoying all the time in fact. I get her, but I don’t get him.” she added before going on. Rin knew that, he heard about it enough, yet he never once read it and the last time you said you felt like reading it again, he asked you to read it to him.
You two don’t really share any tastes in books, but you still kind of enjoy it when the other is reading it for you. You usually get fed up by his reading and Rin found yours comforting, but maybe it’s just your voice. He likes the fact that you try, maybe a little too hard, to show the emotions. It’s deep too, in some kind, and he knows you’re especially close, if he may say, to the things you read. It’s like discovering you again.
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i hope you liked it !
it's me, i collect rocks. the book y/n's reading in rin's one is Looking for Alaska by John Green.
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mypoisonedvine · 9 months
Note
a thought i have after rewatching red eye: jack abducting you because you're the daughter of an important politician. as a way to show your father that you aren't safe, and to enjoy himself, he films himself forcing you to cum over and over again until you're just a whimpering mess.
oh you sick twisted little genius
warnings: kidnapping, ransom/bribery, forced orgasms/overstimulation, humiliation, bondage
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"Please, just tell me she's alright," the man begged through the cracked and muffled audio of the phone call. "Tell me she's alive."
"Of course she's alive," Jackson promised, glancing over at you with a grin, "she's better than ever."
He almost got distracted by the sight of you, tied to the bed with the vibrator pressed against your clit. You'd been there for the better part of an hour, and you hadn't stopped shaking the whole time, screaming and sobbing into your gag-- but the puddle under you on the sheet spoke for itself. "C-can I talk to her?" your father asked.
"Oh, I don't think she wants to talk to you right now," Jackson purred, "she's... a little tied up at the moment. You can talk to her yourself once you do what I've asked."
"But I--"
He rolled his eyes and tossed the phone away, approaching the bedside slowly. He watched you for a moment, tears streaming from your eyes as you convulsed uncontrollably. "Ready to behave, sweetheart?" he asked, but you weren't able to respond anyways. He reached down and switched the vibe off, watching the way you stilled and started to catch your breath-- though he still caught you shivering with aftershocks for a moment as he sat down between your legs on the bed.
He bit his lip as he moved the vibrator away and set it aside, getting a good look at your soaked little pussy-- he couldn't help but reach and pull your lips apart and get a better look at that pretty hole, so desperate to be filled.
"I think we've finally fixed your attitude problem," Jackson noticed with a grin as you just laid there limply, letting him touch you. "And I bet you're extra sensitive now, right?"
He just lightly touched your clit, watching your whole body jump in response as your eyes went wide open. You groaned against the gag but he couldn't make out any words.
"Shh, it's alright, I'll leave that alone for now," he promised, starting to undo his trousers, "but I bet you can still come again just from being fucked."
You whined, trying to move your hips away with what little room you had, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Oh? You want this back instead?" he presumed, picking up the vibrator again. You shook your head feverishly, whimpering and starting to cry again. "Okay, if you're sure. I can leave you here for another hour, get some lunch-- or you can be a good girl for me."
You didn't react for a second, looking straight at him, and he reached up to hook his finger in the gag and pull it out of your mouth. "Please," you began, your voice a little hoarse, "please..."
"'Please' what?" he pressed.
"Please... fuck me..." you whispered.
He tilted his head, putting a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Fuck me! Please!" you screamed in frustration, finally learning the rules of Jackson's game. "I want you to-- I want you! Just, please please fuck me!"
He grinned and leaned down to the floor, picking up the phone where he'd dropped it-- still on the line. "You catch all that, daddy dearest?"
You were already flushed but you looked mortified then, and Jackson had to laugh at your expression. "You sick fuck," your father growled on the other end of the line.
"No rush, pops, she's having a great time," Jackson promised as you cried harder, "she may not even wanna come back once you've finished the job!"
He put the phone down again, pretty sure your dad was going to hang up and hold up his end of the bargain now-- but if not, there would be plenty for him to listen to.
"I knew you wanted it," he announced to you proudly, pulling his cock out and rubbing the leaking head right up against your hole. "Bet with how many times you've come I'll just slide right in..."
He was right about that, but you were still so tight inside-- he could even feel you still flexing just a bit after coming so much, your poor cunt still trying to cope with what he'd put it through. You whined as he filled you, but your back arched, too; of course a needy slut like you couldn't ever be satisfied.
"Fuck," he groaned, "I hope he takes his fucking time getting that money transferred... I want lots more time to play with you, sweetheart."
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romanarose · 2 months
Text
Please Stay, Mr. Miller...
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DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader
Join my taglist : Masterlist
Previous part here: Valentines Day
Summary: Damn, mattress stores have good deals of presidents day- oh fuck
Warnings: PIV sex, unsafe cream pie, fighting. Mild man handling. some pushing/ smacking from reader but it's pretty soft on Joel's chest. Feeling (ew) big old age gap (2X age)
Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap. Joel can pick up reader and is taller than her.
AN/this is the most ridiculous concept lol but I thought it was funny to do Presidents’ Day after all these actual holidays lololololol anyway fuck all the us Presidents
*********
Of course. Of course you couldn’t fucking escape him.
Less than a week after the humiliating Valentine’s Day ordeal, you would find him at the same goddamn furniture store. Goddamn President’s Day mattress sales. You were trying to get out of the store, but Joel kept almost cornering you. You didn’t think he’d seen you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.  Unfortunately, you had walked yourself into a corner, and you when you saw him wondering over you scrambled to hide under a bed display. It did not work.
“Hey.”
“AH!” You jump at the sound of his voice, bonking your head on the frame.
“Shit, you okay?”
You turn and see him knelt down on the floor, bent over with one hand braced on the bed. 
“I’m fine.” You mutter, but he doesn’t leave.
“Can we talk?”
The last thing you wanted to do. 
“No.”
Joel said your name sternly, and despite the tight squeeze under the bed, you cross your arms. 
“Fine.”
���You gonna make me do this down here?” He speaks in a fatherly tone like he was speaking to a petulant child. He definitely had a daughter. “Fine.” He huffed and puffed but laid down beside the bed. After a moment of silence, he spoke first when you refused to look at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“I’m fine!” You said, not finely.
His voice was slightly sharper. “Look, if you wanna be a fucking brat-”
You didn’t hear the rest, rolling out the other side of the display. Joel tried to catch you, reaching out but he was too big to fit. 
Unlucky for you, you really needed a mattress and this was the last day of the deal.
“ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR DELIVERY?” They should advertise that along with the deal. WTF. 
“Sorry miss, I don’t make the rules.”
You sigh, then apologize to the worker. He does not make the rules. “Fine, fine… it’s still a deal… fine.”
A broad body was behind you. “We’ll take it home, thank you.”
Joel. “No, Joel-”
“I’ll pull my truck up. Behave.” 
He knew behave would get you, and you didn’t argue.
*
You watched Joel carry the mattress in your apartment, setting it down against a wall in your bedroom. 
He stares at your bed for the first time, pink frilly blankets and bed skirt, stuffies and soft pillows littering the bed. “You didn’t get your bed ready for a new mattress?” 
You huff, picking up your stuffed animals and placing them on the windowsill. Joel tries to help, but you rip your elephant out of his hands. “Don’t! You’ll get your man germs on her!”
Joel scoffs at that, crossing his arms. “You didn’t care about my man germs when I fucking you.”
You throw your pillows on the floor. They were not as precious as your stuffies and dolls. “Your gross, Joel. You’d probably fuck my teddy if you had the chance!” 
Joel catches your arm, holding it up and forcing you to look at him. “You’re throwing a fucking tantrum! Stop acting like a child!”
You immediately break down sobbing. Joel’s heart breaks to see you like that and drops your wrist. “Hey, hey sweetheart…” he’s tender now. “Hey, baby girl” He takes your chin in his hand, gently guiding it to look at him. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He didn’t think so, he barely had any grip but he wanted to make sure. He never ever wanted to hurt you in a way you didn’t like.
“No.” You sob, standing there in a pink shirt and white skirt, looking so goddamn.
Joel is not immune to a crying girl. “Oh god, princess, c’mere” Joel scooped you up in his arms and you wrapped your legs around him as he sat on the bed. 
“C’mon, princess, why are you crying?”
You sniffle. “You don’t want me.”
“I- what? Baby who told you that?”
“You did!” You shove at his shirt. “You invited me over on a day for romance just for sex, wearing sweats, Joel. SWEATS! I was in a fancy dress looking like an IDIOT”
Frustrated, you try to push away, but Joel grabs your hands, turning you over until he’s pinning you on the bed. “Princess.” His voice was low and dark. “Your my friend’s kid, I am twice your age-”
Your lip quivers. “I know. I know I’m just a silly girl and there’s no reason you should want me for anything other than sex-”
Joel pressed kiss into your mouth, shutting you up. “You hush now, let me speak.” He waited until you nodded. “I ain’t mean it like that. I mean. I don’t know what you would want with a man my age.”
You look up from him where you are still pressed down on the bed, his eyes dark on yours and hardening cock pressed against your pelvis. “A lot, actually.”
His eyebrow raised at you. “Oh? Like?”
You nod. “I wanna… I wanna go one dates. Real dates. Because I like spending time with you. Not just when we fuck but I mean… when you come over to my dads and we all have fun together. I wanna play connect four with you… and I wanna rub your back when it hurts… I W- I wanna” tears pool in your eyes again. “I wanna sleep with you, actually sleep. Like over night… that's what I want with you…”
Searching your eyes, Joel blinked as he watched you. “You want that? What about your dad?”
“I don’t care. I just want you.”
With that, Joel kissed you. It was deep and hard and desperate for touch. You hadn’t even been apart a week but he felt the hole in his heart. You didn’t answer his texts or his calls, and he missed your tight little pussy but he missed talking to you more.
“Fuck me” You pant breathless, undoing the buttons of his jeans and yanking them down. “I’m fucking wet, just fuck me”
“Don’t wanna-”
“You won’t hurt me.” 
Entering you again was like coming home, sliding his shaft into your wetness had Joel’s eyes rolling back, groaning out your name. His shutters at the heat, your own breath gasping in. when he fucks you, you can feel it in your stomach, hell, you can feel it in your throat the wy your heart leaps up with every thrust. It’s dizzying, his presence; the stretch inside and your body making room for him was all consuming. 
“J-Joel” You whimper, shaky and gasping for breath already. 
“Give it to me, babygirl. Fuck’n give it to me…” He grunts, shirt still on as are most of your clothes, having only taken off your panties.
You cum as he fills you, continue to pump inside you through his own high, a load moan from his lip as his full weight collapses into you.
Instinctively, you wrap your arms and legs around him again.
“Please stay, Mr. Miller…”
********
Man is the next holiday Easter? Maybe we should ruin Easter 🐣 👀👀
@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra@ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring
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familyvideostevie · 3 months
Text
a kind of hunger | chapter 2
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joel miller x fem!reader
series masterlist
an offer from your employer sets your life on track and throws it into a new kind of chaos at the same time. where does joel miller fit into it all?
length: 5.9k
Warnings: 18+ smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, heavy petting, joel having a moment with r's tits, hand stuff, dirty talk, painful sex for a second, riding (p in v sex), like a really small smidge of breeding kink, emotional turmoil from r cause what else is she gonna do, some plot! wow! a/n: finally! another chapter. it’s short but i think we’re getting somewhere. Let me know what you think! huge thank you to @macfrog for your eyes and for keeping my sanity in check and @bageldaddy for teaching me how to use commas, letting me borrow your bar, and telling me to just “slutty hallmark it.” this is for you guys. 
navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀
---
Bill’s offer costs you one night of sleep and that’s all.
Taking over the bar goes against every rule you've had for yourself up until now, everything that’s kept you going and on your feet.
You lose when you stick around. You get hurt when you get attached. Always keep moving. 
But your night with Joel seems to have shaken something loose. You’ve got a pit in your stomach, a hunger set alight by his eyes and his hands and his attention. It’s like he reminded you how to want, how to stop letting the world turn under your feet and dig in your heels instead.
And there’s what Bill said, the thing that won't leave you alone. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice.
It’s easy to lie to yourself about a lot of things: that you don’t mind this life, its constant movement and instability. That it’s made you crafty. That if you picked up and left right now, you’d be fine. No one would miss you, no one would notice. The names and faces you’ve learned would fade as soon as you found new ones somewhere else. 
You’ve been a tight fist your whole life, only hanging onto what can fit into your rough and weathered palm, half-moon crescents bleeding that damn desperate hope you can never seem to scrub off. It means a whole lot of avoiding things that could matter so you can’t lose them, can’t let them slip through your fingers. A family who saw your need for space and control and turned it into isolation and disinterest, who drove you away as soon as you were able to leave. College was a bust. Relationships gone sour have taught you not to rely on anyone. Failed experiment after failed experiment, just looking for something to stick. It’s better to be alone, right?
That tight fist keeps anyone out, anyway. It’s carefully rolled bills in plastic bags in the toe of a pair of sneakers just in case. It’s talking just enough to get you a place to stay, a job, a ride, but not enough that anyone remembers your face, even if you wish they would. 
It’s not one big thing. It’s a million small ones. And nothing ever lasts. You never last; always cutting and running before it can get real, before they can see the truth of you and find it lacking.
You’ve been looking for the missing piece for years now, the thing that will make you feel like you’ve finally made it somewhere where you’re needed enough to stick around. Where you can stop quitting, where you can put down roots. Where you can be wanted.
You just aren’t sure it’s possible. You’ve done so many things, seen so much, that you feel like it’s too late to be anything other than this.
It’s easy to believe all of that until someone like Joel sees through it – until someone like Bill tells you none of it is true. 
Fuck it. 
You call Bill the next morning and tell him you'll take over Frank's. 
According to him, the turnaround will be quick. He'll have someone "official" draw up the paperwork. You tell him you won't change the name. You tell him you will make some repairs, fix the cracked vinyl booths, and give the floors a refinish, and –
"Do whatever the fuck you want," he grumbles over the phone. "It's your bar."
It sure is. 
You own something, now. You belong somewhere – even if it’s just because you have payslips to sign and counters to clean. But maybe this time, if you try hard enough, you can get it right.
You have a meeting to tell the staff that you’re taking over. There are only five of you – two college kids from a town over, the guy who works part-time at the garage by the highway, and an old butch called Pat you find vaguely frightening who’s been working here longer than you care to ask. 
It’s probably the first time all five of you have been in the same room. None of them seem disappointed in Bill’s retirement, and they’re on board with your plan for renovations. Especially after you assure them they’ll be paid even if you close for a bit to get it all done.
Joel doesn't come in. You notice, but don’t spare it too much thought. You can’t because the bar is a fucking nightmare all week.
The keg lines keep blocking, the jukebox dies a sudden staticky death, and some asshole scratches the pool table hard enough to tear up the felt. Everyone and everything is pissing you off. It’s an effort not to spend all of your breaks on that milk crate in the alley with your head in your hands. 
It feels like Frank’s is hazing you. After all you’ve done for it, you feel a little betrayed.
“Why the hell do you think I’m retiring?” Bill says when you call to bitch about it. “This shit is a fuck ton of work.” 
By Friday, you're at your wit's end. 
The rush has come and gone, and now it’s slow. Slow enough that you might be worried, but Pat has told you before that this is just how it is in small towns, sometimes. 
That, or maybe your bad mood scared everyone off. Maybe they're tired of the shitty atmosphere, of the cloudy glasses and squeaking stools, maybe they –
You pop an olive into your mouth.
“Chill the fuck out,” you mutter to yourself. No one is around to hear.
The only patrons left are some bikers at one of the back tables playing cards. Their laughter is too loud without the music going. The mats behind the bar are sticky under your boots, and your temple has started to throb. You feel like locking yourself in the office just for the silence.
The air shifts when Joel steps inside.
The hunger you feel is a familiar fire, coals that stoke themselves and never go out. Lust, infatuation as you take in his broad shoulders and grey-streaked hair. You’re strung out and a fuck might help.
But there’s also a weight in your chest at the sight of him, one you haven’t felt in a while. It sits heavy above that smoldering flame in your belly, a bruise you can’t stop yourself from pressing on.
Maybe part of you expected him to stop coming in after you fucked. Regardless of how it made you feel, you’re just some woman who serves him two fingers of liquor when he wants to run away from his life. Just someone who gave him one good night and nothing more.
But this weight – this big, thorny emotion that looks like affection and attachment and something real – you don’t know what to do with it. 
It’s never been this way with a one-night stand. Yeah, you know the weight of him above you, inside you. You know the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his head between your thighs. That kind of shit usually doesn’t change anything with you, but Joel is…different. 
Careful, that voice inside you says. 
Joel peels off his jacket and tosses it on the otherwise empty bar, pushing up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. The stool creaks under him and his gaze is heated as it travels over you. He doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s looking. 
He shakes his head when you hold up the bottle of whiskey. 
"Water's fine," he says.
You blink. If he’s not here to drink then what is he here for?
He seems like he always does. Relaxed, like the room was made to have him in it. But you look a little closer, now that you figure you can. The deep scar on the bridge of his nose stands out and his cheeks are a little pink. The temperature must have dropped once the sun went down. His jaw isn’t tense so much as set, determined. He rubs his chin with a flat palm as you fill a glass using the soda gun.
“Whatever you want,” you say. 
He looks around the bar. You figure he's taking in the out-of-order signs on the beer pulls, the flickering light pointing to the restroom, maybe even the goddamn ruined pool table. 
You pick up a rag and start to clean to keep your hands busy. 
 “Quiet for a Friday,” he says. "Things goin’ alright?”
You bristle at the implication. It’s been a shitty week, and you don’t need anyone reminding you that you’re probably not cut out for this.
“Fucking peachy,” you snap.
Joel raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t rise to it. "Seems like things are a little tense.”
You swallow a flash of genuine annoyance. 
"All it takes is a roll in the sack and now you're a talker?"
Joel isn't phased. He takes a small sip of his drink, rolls the glass between his hands. Nice hands, you think. Hands that felt so good between your --
"Just makin’ conversation," he says lightly.
You’ve always thought you were hard to read – hell, you’ve been told that many times. One of your flaws, people always say, but it makes it easier to slide in and out of places without too much damage. And yet, Joel, a man who has been in your bed once and sits at your bar when it suits him, sees right through you.
Your shoulders slump.
“I’m just tired,” you tell him.
Joel rubs his beard with one wide palm. He moves his jaw back and forth like he's giving you the chance to shut him down, like he’s chewing on the silence.
"Heard somethin'," he says. "Wondered if it was true. Thought I'd ask." 
"Are you asking?"
He eyes you, takes another sip of his water like it's a tumbler of amber liquid instead. Like anything you pour him is something to be savored.
"Guess so." 
You set the glass down and put your hands on the wood, leaning towards him with your head cocked. 
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Joel Miller?”
“Nah,” he says, eyes flashing before they slide down to your lips. “Ran into Frank in the frozen aisle at the store.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
The corner of his mouth tugs up. "Known him and Bill a long time." 
That explains why he looks like he belongs here. He's probably been in this room more times than you have. All of the things you don't know about Joel hang in the air between you.
"Does Bill...?" 
Does your buddy know you fucked me in the apartment I rent from him?
Joel shakes his head. "Frank told me Bill was giving the place to one of his employees. Figured it was you."
And that’s that. But it sounds like a compliment.
“Well, it’s me alright,” you sigh, slumping a bit. “And there's a lot of shit to do.”
Joel puts a hand on your forearm. It's a light touch, a quick one, but it sends sparks along your skin. A moth to a flame.
“Ain’t no small thing. Ownin’ a bar. Big deal, if you ask me.”
You roll your eyes but pride swells in your chest. He’s right. It is a big deal. 
And here you are in your bar.
With Joel, who fits into all of this somehow. You just don’t know where yet.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you,” you say with a smirk.
You want to draw it out of him, make him flirt with you for the answers he seems to want. You want something to sink your teeth into after this week, something to play with.
Something to make you feel in control. And that’s what Joel gave you, last time you saw him. He pushed when you pulled, met your touches and your quips with attitude and hands of his own. You felt alive, you felt present. You felt wanted. And it was fun.
If you’re not careful, you might forget what sex was like without that – his attention, his touch. Your name in his mouth. But now that you’re giving staying here a shot, maybe it’s time to indulge. To reach out and take.
Joel snorts. He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Should we toast to it?”
You laugh. “I don’t drink on the job.”
He raises his water glass.
“Alright,” you scoff. “Fine.” 
You pour yourself some water and clink your glasses together. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, not when he takes a long sip, not when he sets the glass down. He keeps looking at you with that heavy, unshakable gaze. 
It’s unnerving, the way he makes you feel. You’re still tired, still annoyed, but there's electricity at the base of your spine, the embers in your belly. You want to talk to him. 
You clench your hands around your glass. You want to touch him, too.
“So,” you say. He’s wearing a henley this time, the buttons at the top undone just enough to give you a glimpse of a peak of chest hair. You swallow and flick your eyes back to his. He’s smirking. 
“So,” Joel echoes. “Why’d you take it? The bar.”
You shrug. “Seemed like a good deal.”
“Bill ain’t in the habit of good deals,” he huffs. “He must like you.”
It’s an effort to squash your smile. “I don’t think Bill likes anyone much.”
“Real asshole, ain’t he?” 
That gets a laugh out of you. “Well, he’s your friend.”
“Not much choice in a small town.”
You hum.
The noisy group from the back stumble their way to the door, waving at you as they file out into the night.
“Those idiots ruined my pool table on Tuesday,” you hiss, though you smile at them.
“Gotta be pretty fuckin’ bad at pool to do that.” He looks around and realizes he’s the last one in the bar. “You closin’?”
“It’s only eleven, Joel.” 
His eyes rake up and down your body. Is he thinking about how he touched you, how you fell apart under him? Heat curls lazily in your belly. He runs his finger around the rim of his glass.
“Damn shame,” he says. 
Normally you wouldn’t shut for a few hours, but it’s pretty dead for a Friday and…
And Joel is looking at you like that and you want to touch him.
You don’t mess around with regulars.
You’re already breaking your rules by taking over Frank’s. What’s one more?
The pulse between your legs agrees with you.
“Colin,” you call over your shoulder, stepping back from Joel’s hot gaze. The barback appears immediately.
“Yeah?”
“I’m shutting early. Go home. Tonight’s tips are yours.”
He sputters. “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to the stacks of glasses behind the bar, the tables that still need wiping down.
“I’ll take care of it. See you next week.” 
He just shrugs and turns on his heel. A minute later the back door slams and you know the kid is gone.
You lift the bridge and slide out from behind the bar. Your boots are loud on the shitty floors with no one in here and each step to the door feels longer than it should because of his damn stare. You feel Joel’s eyes on you as you lock the door and flick off the neon BAR sign that hangs outside.
When you turn around, his eyes are dark.
Joel stays on his stool, one foot on the ground so that his knees are spread wide, watching you. One hand rests on his thigh, thick fingers tapping to a tune only he hears. His other arm is on the wood of the bar, stretching his shirt across his broad chest. 
When Joel looks at you, sometimes it feels like he’s the first person to ever see you.
“Gotta settle up,” he drawls.
“What, you gonna tip me for water?”
“Not exactly,” he says, words dragging in his mouth. “Got somethin’ else in mind.”
The air in the bar sparks and crackles like one of those long Texas summer days when a thunderstorm looms like a threat. The electricity of it crackles down your spine, turns it molten, turns you dangerous. It’s never felt like this before with someone you’ve slept with. Just being close to him is enough to kick your pulse into gear. You feel hyper aware of every part of your body as he looks at you like you’re offering him something better than what you can pour.
Which, you guess, you are. 
“And what would that be?” 
He hums.
“C’mere.”
You can see his cock straining against the front of his jeans. 
“Bossy,” you say. “That for me?” You jerk your chin towards his lap and take your time walking back to him.
He smirks. “You wanna go upstairs?”
As soon as you step between his knees, the hand on his leg moves to your hip. Two fingers sneak under the waistband of your jeans to find bare skin. You brace yourself with one palm on his thigh, another on his neck, and thread his soft hair through your fingers.
“I don’t see why we have to,” you say slowly, watching him carefully. “No one’s here. And I know the owner. She won’t mind.”
The hand on your hip slides further back and his fingers press hard into the swell of your ass. 
“Oh, that right?” he chuckles. “Well, as long as we ain’t breakin’ any rules.”
You’re not sure who moves first. You’ve got a few inches on him by being on your feet so you pull him towards you just as he surges up and your mouths meet sloppily, hungrily. Joel tugs you closer and you dig your fingers into his thigh as he swallows your giddy laugh, his beard scratching your skin deliciously.
You’re going to fuck him. In your bar. 
“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, lips trailing over your jaw. He’s got both hands on you now, one on your ass and the other on your hip, holding you like he expects you to disappear.
“No, not really–” You cut yourself off with a gasp when he nips your pulse point. “Joel.”
He kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You remember the sounds he made in your apartment and tug on his hair. Joel’s moan is your reward. You press close and grind your hips against the hardness in his jeans and he growls.
“Hard as a rock the second I step in this damn place,” he says, holding you there. You pull back to see his lips spit-slick, his pupils blown. Seeing him undone like this by your touch is just as thrilling as it was last time. His teeth scrape down your neck and he unbuttons your jeans.
“Sounds like a – ah – you problem.”
Joel’s fingers drag through the curls above your cunt before he goes where you really want him. You gasp against his temple when he circles your clit.
“Seems to me I’m not the only one,” he rasps.
The fingertips on his thigh become nails digging in even harder when he slips one finger inside you.
“Gonna leave bruises, sweetheart,” Joel says. Your cunt clenches around him. “You like that? Markin’ me?”
“Maybe I do,” you groan. “You left some last time.”
The angle can’t be ideal but Joel fucks you as best as he can with one finger, then two. You drag his face back to yours and suck on his bottom lip, tugging his hair all the while. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire, like you’re burning up from the inside. 
His other hand rucks up your shirt until you tug it all the way off. He pulls down the cup of your bra with one hand and rolls your nipple between his fingers. 
You could come like this, Joel’s hands everywhere. 
Gripping him through his clothes isn’t enough. You scramble to undo his belt and get your hand in his jeans, button popped and fly down. 
He grunts your name when you spit into your palm and take him in hand, velvety soft and tip leaking. 
“Careful,” he hisses. “Don’t want to stop this before it starts.”
“I’ll be gentle,” you say. He thumbs your clit in response and you gasp.
Time blurs with his fingers inside you. Your strokes are lazy but he hisses each time you drag your thumb over his tip. Is it going to be this, you two pawing at each other against the bar until someone bursts?
“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I want –”
He finally returns to your clit with a strained smirk. The veins in his neck are visible, telling you it’s getting to him, too. 
“You remember what I said last time?”
Ask for what you want, you hear me? You ask and I'll do my damn best.
You could have him bend you over the bar. You imagine it, quick and dirty, the wood digging into your waist as he slams into you, flesh on flesh. It would be better than last time, you know it. But you want to see him.
You want Joel’s face in your neck, your hands in his hair as he fills you up. You want to watch him fall apart under you.
You dig your nails into him again and he hisses. You lean forward so your lips drag along the shell of his ear.
“I want to ride you, Joel,” you say. 
His eyes flash. He kisses you hard, swirls your clit one more time, and pulls his hand from your cunt. Your knees feel a little weak so you keep your hands on his shoulders. 
Joel brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.
“Gotta get at least a taste,” he says. “Just as sweet as I remember.” You surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he groans into your mouth.
“Alright, baby,” he says, breath a little ragged. He thumbs your nipple again. “Where’re you gonna ride me?”
“Booth,” you manage. “Over there.” You jerk your head back towards the cracked vinyl seats he’s never once sat in since you met him. He pats your hips and you step back. The stool scrapes loudly on the floor as he stands. 
He cups your cheek with one callused palm and just looks. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses. And yet he’s looking at you like you’re the answer to all his problems. 
“So damn pretty,” he says.
Somehow you make it to the booth, a tangle of lips and hands, shedding pieces of clothing as you go. Your bra, his shirt, his belt. Shoes toed off and left in a pile, Joel shoves the table between the vinyl benches to the other side so there’s enough room for him to sit, for him to drag down his jeans and boxers and take his cock in one hand. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of it. God, he’s thicker than you remember. One of these days you’re going to take him apart with your tongue.
You could just stand there and admire him but you’re so wet you think you’re going to drip onto the floor. His solid thighs, the dark hair gathered into curls at the base of him trailing up to his navel. If you were a painter you’d put him to a canvas.
Joel spreads his legs wide, and you run a hand down his bare chest before balancing on his shoulder as you step out of your bottoms. It’s almost funny – the two of you naked but for your socks, Joel’s pants around his ankles.
You want him too badly to spare a thought for laughter.
A condom comes from somewhere – his wallet, maybe, or his pocket, you don’t much care – and he slides it on with a hiss. 
It’s different than last time. More desperate but in a fun way – and you know this won’t be the last time. You know each other’s bodies, now, and this can be quick, can be dirty, because you’ll be doing it again.
So you don’t waste any time straddling him. Joel lines his cock up with your entrance, his other hand on your hip.
“You ready?” he asks. You lean in to kiss him and sink down at the same time in response.
You moan in tandem as he fills you, the angle different from when you were on your back, so different. The stretch is deeper, and somehow you feel fuller than last time. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-consuming, it’s a little painful.
“Fuck,” Joel groans. “So tight. I ain’t gonna last long.” 
It really is a tight fit, so tight you think maybe he was right to ask if you could take him without at least one orgasm to prepare you. The girth of him is splitting you in half, stretching you so much you whimper against his mouth.
Joel’s hands cup your face. “Y’okay?” he says, strained. “Hey, talk to me.”
Your eyes are shut tight, knees pressing hard into his solid thighs as you breathe.
“Need a sec,” you say. “It’s different like this, it’s –”
“I know, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Doin’ so good so far.” 
He shifts his hold on you just a little and you whine. The vinyl cracks underneath his shifted weight as he whispers an apology into your shoulder.
The pain of the stretch dulls to an ache and you know what’s just on the other side. You roll your hips and the head of his cock presses exactly where you want it. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through you so intense that you fall forward a little, Joel’s face pressed to your chest.
He presses a kiss to your breastbone, so light you almost miss it as you start to ride him in earnest. Your knees press into the rough vinyl and Joel’s lips find your nipple. 
“Didn’t give these ‘nough attention last time,” he says. “My mistake.”
His tongue laves at your breasts, one after the other as you swirl your hips over and over. You tug on his hair as your thighs start to burn but you keep going. 
Joel’s teeth scrape against your nipples, the skin of your chest as he nips and soothes, nips and soothes. You’re going to be covered in marks tomorrow. 
Maybe it’s the thrill of that, of just seeing him again, maybe it’s how bad you want him, who fucking knows – you’re already so close.
Everything fades away but this. Joel is everywhere, on you, around you, inside you…It’s just the two of you, limbs tangled and sweaty, panting each other’s name.
The smoldering in your belly is a fire climbing higher and higher and you’re going to explode with the heat of it.
Firm, rough-skinned hands hold you steady as you lift and sink, gasping every time he hits that spot inside you. 
“Joel, I –”
His grip turns bruising as he starts to fuck you on his own, the wet smack of his balls filling the bar.
“I know, baby,” he pants. “I know. You hear that? You hear me fuckin’ you? You’re takin’ my cock so good.”
You plant your hands on his shoulders and try to meet his thrusts.
“Swear I dreamed ‘bout this,” he growls. “How wet you were. Those fuckin’ noises you make when I –” He circles your clit with his thumb and you keen. “There we go. Just like that.”
“Joel –
“Gonna ruin this booth,” he says with a rough chuckle. His forehead is tacky when you press yours against it.
“I – fuck – need new ones anyway, don’t I?” 
Joel grins, all teeth as he pounds into you. 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, breath hot on your lips. “Soak my cock. Know you can, so tight and –”
Your orgasm rips through you, a broken litany of Joel and yes and god knows what else torn from your throat as he fucks you through it. His thrusts become erratic and you try to keep your seat as he finishes with a deep groan. 
Joel presses more of those light kisses to your collarbones, the base of your throat, so like the one he left on the back of your hand that first night. You drag your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.
“I’ll move in a second,” you say, catching your breath. 
“Take your time,” he says. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 
His grip on you is practically gentle, fingers lazily stroking patterns into your skin. You drag a hand up and down his chest. 
It’s tender. It’s…something it maybe shouldn’t be. Something that doesn’t belong in whatever you’re doing. 
You get out of his lap as carefully as you can and stand in front of him, naked. Fucking with a condom is smart and all, but you wonder what it would feel like to have him dripping between your thighs.
He doesn’t hide his stare, though it’s not as charged as before. He’s looking just to look.
“Put your pants on,” you grumble at him. He laughs. 
You scoop your clothes off the floor and head for the bathroom. The tarnished mirror displays your sated smile and bright eyes. You run a hand over the bruises he left on your neck, your hips. Well-fucked is a good look on you. You look exhausted but happy.
Joel is dressed and back at the tabletop when you return. He’s got his usual bottle of whiskey on the wood, two glasses already sporting a pour each. 
“Not workin’ anymore, are you?” he asks you. 
You laugh. “No.”
The soreness starts to settle into your thighs when you take the stool next to him.
The momentary silence isn’t uncomfortable. It is comfortable, which is the strange part. Sitting here with him at your bar after he fucked you a few feet away and sipping at your drinks. 
Joel, for his part, seems unbothered. You can’t figure him out. It makes you feel a little unsteady to know that he sees right through you, but you don’t know what he’s thinking. Would he tell you if you asked?
“So,” he says. “What’re your plans for the place?”
You sigh. A piece of his hair is sticking up and you tuck your hand between your thighs so you don’t smooth it. It’s different with your clothes on.
“There’s a lot to do,” you tell him. “Jukebox is broken. Neon signs need replacing. Plumbing could do with a refresh. I want to refinish the floors, maybe tear off this ugly wallpaper –”
“Make sure you get a good gel for that,” he says. “Shit’s old and won’t come off easy.”
You lean your chin in your hand and shoot him an amused look. 
“Do a lot of wallpaper removal in your spare time?” you ask.
He fiddles with his watch, jaw working around whatever it is he wants to say. 
“I’m a contractor.” 
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he grumbles. “You think I sit on my ass all day?”
Honestly, you don’t know. Most of the thoughts you have about Joel aren’t to do with his job. You have no idea what he does when he isn’t here.
You shrug. Joel rolls his eyes.
“Well, I am,” he drawls. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “And I know the folks around here who you’ll need. Materials, all that.” 
“Are you offering to help me, Joel?” You keep your voice neutral.
He looks at you head-on. It feels like he’s seeing through you again. “If you want it.”
“If we do that, it has nothing to do with…” You gesture between you. “With this.”
Joel just looks at you, letting you sort out what you want to say. 
“I mean, I don’t want charity, okay?”
He shakes his head. “Ain’t charity. I owe Bill some favors. This’ll square us up. You’ll cover all the other shit, I guess.”
“It’s not his bar, anymore,” you remind him, but it’s a weak protest. 
Joel knocks back the rest of his drink.
You’ve been working out how to finance the renovations all week. All that cash you’ve squirreled away over the years finally has a purpose, other than a cushion in case something really bad happens. It’s looking tight between paying the staff and sourcing the work. You’d only be able to close a week at a time and any delays will fuck the whole thing. 
But if Joel’s offering discounted labor, materials on the cheap? You could get it all done faster, get it done right.
“Why do you want to help me?” you ask. 
Joel huffs and if you knew him better you’d say it was in offense. 
“Let’s just say I’m invested in the state of this place,” he says. “And you really gotta replace those booths.”
Your face feels hot. “Asshole.”
“So,” he says. “You interested?”
It’s not a bad idea. Hell, it might even be a good one. Money aside, Joel, whatever his story is, is connected in this town, and if you’re staying it would do you some good to start making some connections of your own. Start settling.
The fist in your chest, your heart, your mind – it loosens just a little bit. 
“I’m interested.”
Joel knocks on the bar once, twice, and stands. He digs in his back pocket for his wallet and hands you a business card with his phone number. 
“I’ll be here Monday morning,” he says. “We can start goin’ over stuff, figure out when you wanna close. All that. Call me anytime. Sound good?”
You just nod. The fatigue is starting to hit and Joel must be able to tell because he just smiles at you.
“Goodnight, boss lady,” he says. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”
Joel grabs his jacket and unlocks the door, sliding into the cool night with a wave. 
“You don’t have a tab, asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smiling a little. 
It feels like pieces are falling into place.
You know you could get the bar fixed up on your own. But with Joel’s help, it’ll get done faster and you might even have some money left over at the end of it. 
It’s a lot all at once. But for some reason, it feels different this time. It’s not another job about to fall through, not another relationship going south because you got spooked. It’s not you getting bored and cutting your losses. 
You want this. You want it to work. Usually, you’d have left by now, before you got too attached, but it’s too late so you’re going to make it work. 
This thing with Joel, though – you’re going to have to be careful. If you’re not, it’ll run away from you and – well. You don’t want to lose control of it.
You look around the bar and sigh. Unwiped tables, a booth that no one should sit in, floors to clean. A few hours of work before bed. 
You know you’re going to spend them trying not to think about the man who just left. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!
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just-jordie-things · 8 months
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spin the bottle! - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 5.2k warnings: a lot of smooching, mentions of drinking summary: spin the bottle is an immature game for immature people... but yuuta's crossing his fingers that it lands on you just once. more info: aged up characters! a/n: y'all i bullied into writing this after my truth or dare megumi fic... but i ain't complaining teehee enjoy <3 ___
Spin the bottle was a game for insecure teenagers to use as a lame excuse for getting some.  It was immature, outdated, not to mention a bit boring….
And yet, here she was, sidling up between Maki and Yuuji, cheering along with the rest of the group as they chanted for the game to commence.  
What was a silly game among friends? It wasn’t like it had to mean anything.  They were just a little drunk after celebrating a weeknight where they could all hang out together, and it wasn’t a true party without party games, right? 
So despite the swell of embarrassment in her stomach, (y/n) put on a brave face in the form of a drunken smile, and leaned into Maki’s shoulder with a few cheesy pickup lines muttered in her ear.
“First of all, the bottle has to land on me first,” Maki shrugged her friend off semi-gently before turning to her with a small smirk.  “And I know it’s not me you wanna be kissing, anyways” 
(y/n) stuck her tongue out defiantly, before bursting into a fit of giggles as she leaned away from her sassy friend.  Apparently alcohol only made Maki more quick-witted than usual.
She leaned back on the palms of her hands, her laughter finally ceasing as Nobara explained the simple rules of the game.  She hadn’t meant to tune her out, but it’s not like spin the bottle had a difficult set of rules to follow, and anyways, her attention was pulled away by something else.
Or, someone else.
Yuuta also didn’t seem to pay any mind to Nobara’s strict explanations on the rules.  Whatever he was talking about with Toge seemed much more important.  So much so his hands were moving as he rushed through muttered words, panicked eyes shifting from the bottle on the floor to his mostly-mute friend.  (y/n) couldn’t help but find it a little cute.  
Was he nervous about the game? Or was this about something unrelated? 
He’d seemed fine the rest of the night.  She’d only got to hang out with him a little bit, Toge and Maki had a knack for pulling him away for something.  Toge needed a partner in beer pong.  Maki wanted to arm wrestle.  Yuuta either followed or was dragged along, giving her a quiet apology with a nervous laugh.  (y/n) knew it wasn’t personal, everyone was just excited to get to hang out together, but she couldn’t help but feel a little deflated every time they were interrupted.
“Okay everyone got it? Great!” Nobara clapped her hands as she plopped down in her spot on the other side of Yuuji, already reaching forward to grab hold of the bottle.  “Ladies first, of course” She grins as she gives it a solid spin.
Maki and (y/n) share a look, but don’t voice their complaint out loud.  If she wanted the first turn of the most embarrassing game ever created, they’d let her have it.
And to Nobara’s dismay, the empty bottle stopped spinning and landed on the boy at her side, and her eager expression fell as she turned to her pink haired friend.  Yuuji bore a giant grin, not out of excitement for kissing one of his closest friends, but simply because he knew that he was the last person she wanted it to land on.  If only it had stopped a few inches to his left… maybe she would’ve had her chance with the girl she’d really wanted it to land on.
“Oh, come on!” Nobara whines dramatically.
“You’re the one that wanted to play!” Yuuji argued.
“Yeah, rules are rules!” (y/n) chimed in from next to him.
With a roll of her eyes, Nobara leans forward and gives him the fastest peck of a kiss ever done.  The group is howling with laughter and excitement, and even though this wasn’t (y/n’s) first choice of entertainment, she finds herself giggling and cheering along, and urging Yuuji to take his turn next.
His spin is rougher than Nobara’s, the bottle is flying around and he’s chastised for dragging his turn out.  But the anticipation is worth it when it lands on Megumi, and Yuuji takes it upon himself to crawl on all fours to get to his best friend.  Megumi’s face is so red it looks hot to the touch, and he tries to swat at Yuuji when he practically crawls onto him, but everyone can see that when he finally plants his lips on his, it’s more of a kiss than Nobara’s turn had been.  Probably because it was reciprocated, just a little bit, until Megumi remembers they’re crowded by all of their peers, and he’s pushing Itadori by the shoulders with a laugh that borders between nervous and flirtatious.
“Okay okay! (y/n) take your damn turn already!” Megumi directs, and she puts her hands up in mock surrender at the order.
“Aye aye, captain” She hums, leaning forward to reach for the bottle.
Before she gives it a flick of her wrist, her eyes catch Yuuta’s.  He’s sitting directly across from her, making him the most perfect victim of her spin.  A tiny smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she spins the bottle, her eyes lingering on his a few moments longer before falling to watch her fate write itself.
Her spin is quicker than Yuuji’s, slowing down after just a few rotations, and lagging along the rug as it slowly passes the other players…
… and coming to a stop right to her left, where Maki was sitting.
The dark haired woman scoffs, giving (y/n) a raised brow and knowing smirk.  (y/n) masks her disappointment with amusement, throwing her head back in a short bark of a laugh before giving her kissing partner a wink.
“I told you, hot stuff,” She teases, leaning back into her place to cozy up closer to Maki, who rolls her eyes at the display.  “How do you feel about tongue?”
“Oh just can it and kiss me, (y/l/n)” Maki snaps.  
(y/n) giggles, before leaning in and giving her a swift peck on the lips.  It’s not nearly as fleeting as Nobara and Yuuji’s turn, but it at least lacked the element of disgust.
Maki took her turn almost wordlessly, eyes focused on the bottle as it spun and landed on Megumi once more.  The pair burst into laughter, and Maki jokingly settled on kissing the crown of his head.  Everyone agreed that was for the best, as no one wanted to see the cousins share a real kiss.
Next to Maki was Toge, who eagerly let out a string of rice ball ingredients as he spun the bottle and took his turn.
When it slowed and landed on (y/n) her eyes lit up in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she was even a player after her turn had been over.  The cursed speech user shyly looked over at her, and he must not have moved quick enough to finish his turn, because she slid forward in front of Maki, a grin splitting her lips as she neared him.  He’d already left his collar open in preparation for the game, but she grabbed the zipper anyways, tugging him forward, earning an echo of oohs from the more dramatic players in the circle.
Yuuji and Nobara, of course.
Toge’s eyes were unreasonably wide as (y/n) leaned in the rest of the way and planted her lips on his.
It wasn’t necessarily a steamy kiss, but it was longer than the kiss she’d given Maki, and it was noticeable.
Yuuta’s hand curled into the rough carpeting of the rug beneath him.  He hoped his face was neutral, even though his body language certainly wasn’t.  He knew it was just a game, and the pair pulled away in a matter of seconds.  But he couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment settling in his chest.  He’d agreed to play this dumb game on one silly little hope that he’d get to kiss the girl he’d been crushing on for over a year now, and it was strangely unsettling to see his best friend beat him to the chase.
Not that it was Toge’s fault.  Yuuta knew it wasn’t fair to feel any ounce of jealousy.  It was just a game.  It’s not like it meant anything to either of them.  And when it was over and Toge sent Yuuta an apologetic look as he nodded his head for him to take his turn, Yuuta tried to just forget it completely.
Besides, it’s his turn now, and with (y/n) sitting perfectly across from him on her knees with her hands tucked in her lap, he figured he had a pretty good chance of rigging it anyways.  How hard could it be to spin a bottle, anyways? 
After his turn was over and his kiss was wasted on Yuuji, Yuuta’s hopes began to plummet.  The group got a good laugh out of the obnoxiously loud smooch Yuuji had given him, but even though the vibe of the circle was one of laughter and joy, Yuuta felt like curling in on himself and pouting the rest of the night.
He barely paid any attention while Megumi took his turn, the last of the group to get to spin.  But at this point Yuuta had mentally checked out of the whole ordeal.  The carpet he was picking at seemed more appealing than a dumb kissing game anyways.
Why had he even agreed to this? As soon as the thought crossed his mind he felt like an idiot.  Hoping to kiss one girl in a group of seven seemed like a preposterous idea now.  He should have worked up the courage ages ago, yet here he was, hoping to use this immature party game as an excuse.  How was he supposed to talk himself up to doing it on his own now? After this failure of a night, Yuuta thinks maybe he was better off in the friendzone anyways.
It’s not until Maki is shoving at (y/n) and loudly declaring, “Again!?” That Yuuta snaps back into the present, and his head is whirling between the bottle Megumi had just spun, the neck pointing all-too perfectly at (y/n), and a shy amusement on both of their faces.
There’s a bubbly giggle that comes from her as she turns to Yuuji with a playful smirk.
“Try not to get jealous” She teases as she moves across the open space to meet Megumi in the middle of the circle.
With Yuuta being seated right next to the younger sorcerer, he has a front row seat to the way (y/n) gives him a sweet smile before her eyes flicker down to his mouth.  Yuuta really doesn’t want to watch her have her third kiss of the night, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the scene.  
It’s just a game.  It’s not like it means anything.
But on the surface it looks like it could mean something.  He wonders, as her eyes raise to meet Megumi’s again before she shuts them and leans in to plant her lips on his, if this is how she always kissed.  Was it always so premeditated? Did her eyes always sweep over the close up features of her lover before finally indulging? 
Yuuta fights the urge to shake his head when he finally tears his gaze away from the display.  He’s back to studying the scratchy grains of carpet when Megumi and (y/n) part, the former red in the face once more, the latter taking her spot between Maki and Yuuji again.
“That spot is cursed!” Nobara shouts what Yuuta had just been beginning to wonder about himself.
(y/n) chuckles, shrugging her shoulders.
“Oh really?” (y/n) muses, giving her a wiggle of her eyebrows as she narrowed her gaze on her thoughtfully.  “Or are you just saying that cause you’re getting jealous?” 
“Oh shut up and just move spots already” Nobara hissed back.  (y/n) grinned wide at her before clicking her tongue and eyeing the rest of the group.
“Fine,” She hums as she taps her chin.  “Who wants the good spot then?” 
“Salmon!” 
Before anyone could fight for her good-kissing-luck space, Toge is darting forward and practically yanking her from the spot to claim it for himself.  She laughs as she’s sent forward, almost directly into Yuuta, who’s hands shoot out to catch her if she really is thrown into the ground.  To her luck she catches herself on the ground, not without a wobble as she catches her balance.
In the back of his mind, where his hope still lingers, Yuuta thinks that this change in position could be good for him.  Now there had to be a chance for them to share a turn, right? Theoretically, if sitting across from each other wasn’t the right spacing, then sitting side by side had to be better.  All he had to do was essentially make the bottle come back to him, right? 
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” 
The whisper in his ear makes him startle, his eyes wide as he swivels his head to see (y/n) cozied up in the space next to him.  Her knees drawn to her chest, elbow propped atop them to keep her chin in her hand as she gazed at him.  She looked amused by the way he’d jumped at the sound of her voice, but thankfully she didn’t tease him for it.
“You look like you’re in your head,” She clarifies.  “You don’t like the game?”
He opens his mouth to tell her exactly how much he doesn’t like this game, but then the bottle spinning in front of them rolls to a stop, and (y/n’s) pulled away from what little and one-sided conversation she’d been having with Yuuta- for the umpteenth time tonight- and the group is in shambles from where it landed.
(y/n) can barely react as she looks down at the bottle perfectly pointed at her, yet again.
Half the group is whooping with their entertainment, amazed that for the fourth time (y/n) has been the lucky kisser.  The other half is groaning out of boredom of this repetitive game.  With only seven people playing it’s not like the odds were that random.  The game was bound to have some repeats soon.
And then there was Yuuta, who, if he was a cartoon character, would have a little storm cloud scribbled over his head.
(y/n) giggles as Nobara crawls forward, muttering under her breath about how unfair it was that (y/n) already had twice as many kisses as she did.  Once she’s close enough, (y/n) tilts forward, both of her hands cupping Nobara’s cheeks affectionately.
“Just close your eyes and pretend I’m her” She whispers quietly.  Nobara’s cheeks are pink, but before she can say anything, (y/n) shuts her eyes and completes the turn with a quick but sweet peck on her lips.
Yuuta watches as once again her eyes wander over Nobara’s face before she gives her the kiss she’s owed.  His stomach churns and he bites down on his cheek to keep from frowning.  He can’t make his annoyance obvious, not while everyone else is grinning and laughing.  So he gnaws on his cheek and keeps his sights set on his pinching fingers tugging and pulling at the carpet.
(y/n) bumps her shoulder into his when she settles back into her spot beside him again.  He glances over to see her giving him a sheepish little smile.  He could almost be convinced that she’s thinking the same thing he is- that it’s strange she’s gotten to kiss almost everyone in this room except for him.  
Key word being almost.  There was still one other person in the circle who hadn’t been gifted one of her precious kisses.
“I don’t really care for the game either” She resumes their previous topic in a quiet voice.  Yuuta can’t help but chuckle.
“Oh really? It appears you’re winning” He replies in a low voice.  Despite the twist of jealousy in his chest, there’s no malice in his words.  Only amusement.  (y/n) shrugs her shoulders, as if she could care less about the predicament she’d found herself in, which everyone else seemed to find hilarious.
“You don’t really win at spin the bottle, do you?” She muses, laying her arms atop her knees and resting her chin against them.  Her eyes never leave his, too allured by the deep blues that surround his dilated pupils.  An expression that Yuuta can’t really decipher flickers across her face.  “Unless of course you’re aiming to kiss somebody” She finishes the thought in an even softer volume.
Yuuta has to fight the urge to tug at the collar of his crewneck, suddenly feeling hot.  It must have been the drinking, and all the bodies piled into one room.  Surely it couldn’t have been the effect of one perfectly on the nose comment made by her, or the way she was looking at him now like she was waiting for him to confirm her thoughts.
He swallows the lump in his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as the dry swallow goes down roughly.  A small cough comes of this, and (y/n’s) laughing to herself and finally sparing him of her heavy eye contact.
Yuuji takes his turn with great excitement, spinning the bottle in front of him with more gentleness than his last turn.  This time it spins a normal amount before it starts to slow down.  When it drags along the carpet past Toge, and slows down even more as it passes Maki, the group begins to laugh before it even stops in front of (y/n), again.
Yuuta’s wide eyes hold a lethal amount of venom as they follow the path of the open end of the bottle.  Slowly but surely, it comes to a stop in front of (y/n).  Maki’s laughter is the loudest, sharp and almost cruel as she points at the girl, making sure she’s perfectly in the spotlight.
Yuuji almost looks apologetic as he meets her gaze, but a game is a game, and (y/n) drops her legs to fold them criss cross so that he can lean over the open circle to kiss her.
Yuuta can’t fight off his frown this time as he watches (y/n) kiss the last person that hadn’t gotten a turn with her yet.  His features fall into a state of utter heartbreak when her lashes flutter as her eyes sweep over Yuuji’s smiley face before she shuts her eyes and lets him plant a quick kiss on her lips.  
Surprisingly, Yuuji kisses her extremely fast.  Faster than he’d kissed both Megumi and Yuuta.  Even (y/n) seems surprised, her lips still slightly pursed when he’s already pulling away and going back to his spot in the circle.  Heer confusion is quickly washed away, replaced with what Yuuta hopes is relief.
“I think we’ve played this for long enough,” Yuuji rubs the back of his neck as he chuckles.  “No offense (y/n)”
She smiles brightly, shaking her head back at him.
“None taken, I’ve had my fair share.  No complaints here” 
The circle slowly disbands, Maki and Toge head for the kitchen to make more drinks, and shortly after Maki leaves the room Nobara is following behind.
Yuuji says something to Megumi that Yuuta barely catches which dives them both into conversation, sliding closer to one another on the floor in order to continue talking comfortably.
And that leaves (y/n) and Yuuta, both still seated on the rug that was starting to feel scratchy and uncomfortable after having sat there for so long.
“I’m getting warm,” (y/n) fills the silence first, standing and stretching her legs before nodding her head towards the door.  “I’m gonna step out for a bit, want to get some fresh air with me?” 
Yuuta thinks about it for a minute, even though his immediate answer is a resounding yes.  He pauses before standing and following her out of the room.
“Did you want to let Maki know you’re leaving?” He asks a little too late, once they’re already winding through the corridors on the way towards the doors.
“Nah,” (y/n) shakes her head.  “She’s about to be quite distracted by Nobara anyways,” She tells him quietly, her eyes meeting his with a devious glint in them.  “If anything, I’m doing them a favor.  They both owe me, anyways” 
He chuckles at that, having no clue what she meant by it at all.
“Are you making deals with all of our friends?” He asks, half curious, half teasing.
“Let’s just say they’re both jealous, jealous girls,” (y/n) smirks.
They reach the doors, and she turns around to walk backwards through it, using her elbows to push the heavy oak open for them to pass through.
“So a little game of spin the bottle was just what they needed.  Either they were going to finally get their chance, or I was gonna have to pucker up and spark a little romance myself” 
Yuuta laughs, and he can’t help but feel a little relieved to hear her admit at least some of those kisses were far from meaningful.  To her, anyways.
“I think you’re a little too good of a friend” He tells her, to which she laughs, eyes crinkling at their corners as she looks at him.  
They stay put at the front doors, the cool night breeze easing the leftover heat and nerves that they’d been trying to escape from.
“I’m a woman of few talents,” She teases.  “But kissing is one of them, so I may as well put it to good use, yeah?” 
Yuuta snorts, and before he can stop himself, he bluntly replies with, “Like I would know” 
He regrets the sarcastic remark as soon as it comes out of his mouth, and (y/n) watches him do so.  His eyes go wide and his mouth snaps shut, and she can practically see the apology forming in his mind.
She giggles, her smile stretching wide across her face as she gazes up at him.
“You’re right, touchy subject,” She muses.  “That’s not very fair, hm?” 
Yuuta laughs.  His cheeks flush with a rosy pink tint as he turns his head away, not taking her comment remotely serious.  His shoulders shake a bit as he continues to chuckle.  He thinks she must be messing with him, teasing him just like the others would have.  He’s so clouded by embarrassment- and obliviousness- that he misses the way she tilts her head at him.  She waits patiently for his nerves to settle, a curious smile on her face as she studies him.
Yuuta had always been interesting to her, in every sense of the word.  His status as a Special Grade Sorcerer was alluring enough, but she found his demeanor to be rather sheepish, and around her often anxious.  Sure, there were moments that he’d warm up and get comfortable around her, but (y/n) had grown used to his stuttering and nervous mannerisms.  In fact, it was something she’d come to find so cute about him.
They’d known each other for quite some time now, over a year.  And while they both would easily call the other a friend, Yuuta’s behavior hardly changed around her.  It was off at first, because she’d seen the way he’d gotten comfortable around their peers, no longer fearing Maki, or struggling to communicate with Toge.  Yet, whenever she approached him, he looked taken aback even by a simple hello.
Tonight had been a turning point for her, though.  Tonight she’d come up with a little theory as to why he was such a nervous wreck around her.  It only took a pair of crossed fingers behind her back to work up the courage to call him out on it.
Sure, compared to him she was the confident one, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about embarrassing herself in front of him right now.
“Yuuta,” 
His attention is brought right back to her, his laughing ceased instantly upon hearing the soft and sweet way his name sounded when spoken by her so quietly.  Her lips tilt into a knowing smile, admiring how mesmerized he looked when his expression relaxes and his eyes are set on hers so steadily she could have mistaken him for being in a trance.
She’d wanted to say something, something flirty and light hearted about how she’d been hoping on their turns the bottle would’ve landed on each other just once, but despite the overpowering thought being what led the two of them out here, suddenly her mind is blank, thoughts replaced by the stronger, more overwhelming urge to just kiss him.
So she follows the instinct, and she shuffles forward.
Yuuta’s eyes grow wider with every inch of space she closes when she steps towards him.  His breath hitches and his throat bobs as her hands rest against his chest. Her touch is light, barely there, but he swears her palms burn right through to his skin, igniting his entire body.
Her eyes shift slowly from his, mentally tracing down the slope of his nose, lashes fluttering with the slow movement of her gaze.  He’s holding his breath, recognizing the way she glances over every feature, every dip curve and pigment in his face.  Being on the receiving end of this telltale sign of hers has the hair on the back of his neck standing up, and his heart is racing in his chest.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” 
If she’s teasing him, she certainly doesn’t sound like it.  Her smile brightens, eyes twinkling as they travel away from his sealed lips to his panicked eyes.  She presses her right hand a little harder against his chest, feeling his heart beat against it rapidly.  A tiny giggle escapes her, her cheeks warming up the longer she stares at him.
“I’d really like to kiss you,” She whispers, and his face goes from pink to red in a matter of seconds.  “If that’s alright?” 
Yuuta nods.
“Mhm, yeah- yeah that’s f-fine by me” He stammers back, and her little smile widens to a grin at his adorable response.
“Okay,” She hums, pushing onto the tips of her toes.  One of her hands, the one that isn’t counting the beats of his heart, slides over his collarbone, and around the side of his neck.  She can feel his pulse there, too.  “Close your eyes, Yuu” She giggles again at how intently he’s staring at her, mapping her every action.  He complies with the deman, his eyelashes fluttering as he shuts his eyes right away.
(y/n) only hesitates for a moment longer, unable to help herself from admiring how much more handsome he is up close.  Such a thing shouldn’t have been possible, but this was Okkotsu Yuuta we’re talking about.  Her fingers push into the hair hanging over the nape of his neck, gently pulling him towards her as her own eyes fall shut.
Yuuta’s frozen for a moment when their lips finally do meet, his nerves crawling up his spine and seizing his heart for just a second.  Her lips were so soft he was dying to know if everyone else tonight felt the same spark of warmth that he felt right now.
At that thought, he came back down to earth and realized he needed to seize this moment while he had the chance.  The others had gotten meaningless kisses, and he couldn’t accept that this would be the same.
His hands cradle her jaw as he pulls her in closer to deepen their kiss.  Yuuta hasn’t kissed a lot of people- he’s kissed one person actually, and he was eleven- but when her velvety lips mold into his and she reciprocates his eagerness, he thinks she might be the greatest kisser of all time, gifted with the world’s most perfect pair of pretty and sweet lips.
(y/n) curls her fingers more securely in his hair when she thinks he’s going to pull away.  He acknowledges the silent instruction, taking in a sharp inhale through his nose to accommodate his aching chest.  She might have been part of the blame for that ache, but he wouldn’t dare hold her accountable for it.  Oxygen be damned.
He tilts his head to have better access to the plush of her bottom lip, and his heart is racing again when he feels her smile against him.
No one else got this out of that stupid game, he thinks to himself as he feels a soft pant hit his hot mouth.  His thumb traces along her jaw, pausing at the junction where it meets her throat.  She tilts her head further towards him in a small movement, pushing impossibly closer.  Although her own heart rate is starting to skyrocket, dangerously close to meeting the pace of his, their kisses remain gentle.  Soft and slow, meaning in each one.
Yuuta’s head is spinning, and eventually the quick breaths of air through his nose isn’t enough, and he has to pull away, just enough to catch his breath in fast but deep pants.  He keeps his gentle hold on her face, and they’re still so close that their noses are touching, and the small space between them is their shared air.  His eyes are focused on her as soon as he parts from their kiss, with heavy lids and blown pupils, he’s memorizing every pretty feature.  From parted lips curling into a shy smile, to the deepening color in her cheeks, he takes it all in as though he’d lose his sense of sight tomorrow.
(y/n’s) slower to open her eyes, still lost in the moment, ten feet off the ground and not ready to float back down yet.  When Yuuta chuckles, she feels the deep vibration from his chest resonate against her palms.  He feels warmer, the kind of warmth she’d only felt from a comforting fireplace after a long brutal winter day.  The kind of warmth that comes in sun kissed cheeks and soft, hot sand under bare feet that hardly remembered just how good the sensation could be.  Her heart flutters in her chest before she finally opens her eyes to meet his.  She’d felt his stare before she’d actually seen it.  It was what brought the color to her cheeks.
The pad of Yuuta’s index finger grazes over her pulse point, and a tiny smile forms on his face.
“Your heart’s beating really fast” He says, and when she lets out a breathless laugh, his smile turns into a full on beam, proud of himself for repeating her words back to her. “Yeah, well,” She huffs out, still taking shallow breaths and not quite filling her lungs properly with air.  But it was hard when he was looking at her like that.  She pauses before confirming his own thoughts.  “I was waiting for that kiss all night” ___
tags of ppl who pressured me into writing this: @bai-kage @sugasquatchwrites
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slut4thebroken · 5 months
Text
Daddy’s Little Girl
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Stepdad!Raymond Leon x reader
Summary | Your stepdad catches you doing something you shouldn’t be.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, very large age gap, technically incest, innocence kink, protective (controlling) Ray, grinding, pillow humping hehe, praise, degradation, spanking, punishment?, humiliation, virginity checks, daddy but not the kink?, he kind of hates everyone except you tbh.
Words | 3.7 k
Notes | Idk I feel like the end maybe got a lil ooc but I feel like it’s not enough to be out of place in the fic.
Ao3 link | <3
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Tonight was movie night, your favorite night of the week. For the longest time, your step dad refused to do this. You’d beg and beg, and he’d stare at you with that hard, unrelenting gaze until you gave up. That was while you still called him Mr. Leon. That was before your mom skipped town, leaving you with him. You were 16 when that happened and Raymond seriously considered sending you off to some orphanage. It was only two more years anyway. 
But over time, the idea started to make his stomach churn and his jaw clench in anger. That was when he started treating you like his stepdaughter, rather than some child he was stuck with. That was when you started calling him daddy. 
The first time, it surprised him. Girls your age have long since grown out of calling their fathers ‘daddy’ and started calling their boyfriends that instead. But he could tell you were being genuine and not just making a move on him or trying to rile him up. It took a while, but eventually he got used to it. He even started calling you a few pet names as well. That was the first sign that he’d gone completely soft toward you. 
The second was when he actually agreed to have a movie night with you… As soon as he reluctantly said yes, you practically squealed as you ran to the couch, telling him to make popcorn while you got everything ready. 
You didn’t try to get closer to him that time. But the next time, you sat in the middle of the couch rather than on the side, still not touching him yet. The third time was when you tried to lean your head on his shoulder. He jerked away from you, mostly out of pure instinct, but when he saw your pouting face, he sighed heavily and let you do it anyway as he sat there, his body completely stiff. 
It only progressed from there, until he finally started getting used to holding you while you snuggled into his chest. He almost… liked doing it— not that he would ever admit that though. When you were in his arms, he felt like he was protecting you, keeping you safe. From what? He didn’t know. Maybe it was just paternal instinct. 
As you got older though, he got more protective. He started setting rules, most of which you were fine with. It was the little ones like bedtime by eleven on school nights or homework before fun that you didn’t like. But you followed them anyway. 
The first time you brought a boy home… he almost committed a felony, to put it simply. He never came back though— thankfully— but you yelled at him for scaring him away when you were just trying to work on an assignment together. That eased his nerves, but he still didn’t regret what he did. However, that prompted him to have a talk with you. Not the talk, you weren’t ready for that yet, he decided. 
He sat you down and told you about boys your age and their intentions and what they’d do to you if given the chance. He was trying to scare you, and it worked. He slept easy knowing that your nights were spent watching movies with him, rather than partying or having sex. 
You put on pajamas and fuzzy socks and he wore sweatpants and a shirt. While you settled on the couch and browsed for a movie, he was busy making some popcorn for you both. 
“What about this one?” You asked as he walked in and sat down next to you. 
“What’s it rated?” He seemed wary. 
“R… But I’ve seen R rated movies before!” He glanced at the screen, then turned back to you with a sigh. 
“Fine. Just this once, you know I don’t like you watching really graphic content.” You bit back a grin and pressed play. He held the popcorn in his lap and you rested your head on his shoulder, both of your lower halves covered by the blanket. 
It started out fine. There was a lot of cursing and some violence, but it wasn’t too bad. What was bad was the super graphic and super long sex scene. You shifted awkwardly and looked at your lap. Should you just watch and pretend like this isn’t weird? That’s what he’s doing…
When you folded your legs up and rested them on his thigh, he placed a warm hand just above your knee. You cleared your throat and buried your face in his chest a little. 
“It’s just a sex scene.” He chuckled quietly. 
“I- I know… I’m just not used to watching it s’all.” He hummed in response and started brushing his thumb back and forth on your thigh, making your shiver. 
“We can watch something else.”
“No! I- I’m not a child. I can watch a… a— sex scene.” You said the last two words quietly and your cheeks heated up in embarrassment. 
“I know you can, princess. I’m saying you don’t have to.” You could tell he was amused, but you were getting more and more flustered. 
“Well, I- I want to.” You decided. He was fine with that. Even though he didn’t really want you watching this kind of stuff, he liked watching you blush and squirm. 
The sex scene was over and you relaxed into him, focusing on the movie again. The rest of it was more violence and cursing, then it was over. When you yawned and snuggled into his chest, he brought an awkward hand up to your shoulder, trying to pull you away. 
“Bed time.” You let out a low whine, but stood up anyway. “Go get ready for bed.” 
“Mhm.” You mumbled sleepily. You brushed your teeth and finished your nightly routine, but as soon as you laid down, you noticed the warm feeling in your belly and the ache between your legs. You’ve felt this once or twice, but you’ve never acted on it before. You laid there, desperately trying to ignore it and just fall asleep, but it wouldn’t go away and you kept thinking about his hand on your thigh and the way he smells and how safe you feel in his arms. Letting out a quiet whine, you pressed your thighs together and squirmed a bit, trying to ease the ache. It only got worse though. 
You turned on your side and squeezed your thighs together harder as your hips started moving back and forth, chasing pleasure that wasn’t there. You heard running water as he washed the dishes, so with the knowledge that he was too busy to catch you doing something inappropriate, you got up on your knees and placed a pillow between your legs. 
The movement of your hips was awkward at first, but you quickly picked up a comfortable pace and continued that for a while. You felt so dirty and perverted doing this, but you couldn’t stop. Especially not when you imagined doing this on his thigh instead. Would he grab your hips to help you? Or maybe he’d lay back and watch you hump his leg like a dog. 
You whimpered and closed your eyes as your head fell forward. Maybe he’d let you grind on something else… something much more R rated. The thought had you moaning quietly before you could stop yourself so you bit your lip to keep any more sounds in. You’ve only started having these thoughts about him recently and they confused you, but made you feel good, so you didn’t try to shut them down. 
Your belly felt like it was tightening and filling with heat, and you started panting as you bucked your hips faster. You weren’t exactly sure what you were feeling. All you knew was that the thought of stopping made you want to cry in desperation. 
“Are you all ready—” The door suddenly opened and you practically jumped away from the pillow as you stared at him with wide eyes. The feeling in your tummy was slowly leaving and you tried not to whine out loud because of it. “What were you doing?” He asked, tone a complete 180 from only a few seconds ago. 
“N-nothing, I was… I was getting ready for bed.” He slowly shut the door and you swallowed audibly as you waited for what was next. 
“You were getting ready for bed with your pillow down there?” He asked, obviously not believing you. You bit your lip as you nodded, staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes and he stalked closer. You held your breath as he neared the bed, but when he reached for the pillow, you were too slow to try and grab it first. He held it up to his face and inhaled deeply, making your cheeks heat up as you squirmed uncomfortably. 
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to watch that movie. You get these ideas in your head and soon enough your whoring yourself around for every guy in this fucking city.” 
“No! No, I- I wouldn’t…” You didn’t want to whine, but his words were embarrassing you. He set the pillow down then sat next to it with a heavy sigh. You watched him pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes. 
“I guess this is my fault… I should’ve talked with you a long time ago, I was just scared.” Your brows furrowed in confusion and you schooched closer to him. 
“Scared?”
“Of losing my little girl. But clearly I need to accept the fact that you’re a young woman now. You can’t be my little girl forever.” You’ve never heard him sound so sad. 
“Yes I can.” You frowned. 
“Princess… You’re already 18. I don’t think that’s possible.” He chuckled dryly. 
“But… I- I want to be your little girl.” Your frown deepened and your eyes started to burn with tears. “Forever, daddy.” You whined. 
“I know, baby. But that’s what happens, you have to grow up, no matter how much you don’t want to.” You were getting even more confused and upset. What does this mean? Will there not be anymore movie nights? Will he not make you hot chocolate or read to you or tuck you in before bed? “And now’s the time. You’re already getting curious about big girl things.” 
“No! I- I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, daddy— I promise. I’ll do anything, just— please…” You cried, giving him puppy dog eyes as your bottom lip wobbled. 
“You want to stay my little girl?” He asked quietly, bringing a hand up to brush your hair out of your face. 
“Please.” You whined and he nodded. 
“You have two choices; you can be a big girl and I’ll teach you whatever you need to know to be safe, or… you can be my little girl, but you’ll need to be punished for your behavior.” 
“The second.” You didn’t even hesitate. 
“Okay, baby. Over my lap.” When you started moving to lay on his lap, he stopped you. “Other way.” You obeyed and laid across his thighs, pushing the pillow away so you could be comfortable. 
“No no no, princess.” He chuckled quietly. “That’s part of the punishment. You’re going to keep your face in your mess as a constant reminder of why you’re being punished right now.” With a low whine, you pulled the pillow back toward you, but kept your head above it. You could see now that there was a tiny damp spot on the fabric, only furthering your embarrassment. 
“Mmph!” Was the only noise you could get out when he placed a firm hand on the back of your head and shoved you down. You jumped when you felt his warm hand on the back of your thigh, slowly moving up. He teased the bottom of your sleep shorts before going back down on the other leg. “This is what you want? To be daddy’s little girl?” 
“Yes!” You cried, but it was muffled because of him still holding you down. 
“Fine.” He roughly pulled your shorts down to your thighs, making you whine and squirm in this hold. “At least you’re not completely gone yet…” He murmured, running a hand over your plain cotton panties. “Ready?” He didn’t let your reply before landing a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out. He did the same to the other cheek, then grabbed your underwear and pulled them up to expose more skin. 
You moaned quietly when he rubbed a soothing hand over your already sore ass. It felt huge. Sure you’ve noticed his hands once or twice, but it felt like he could grab your entire ass cheek and more with just one hand. 
He hit you again, but this time he didn’t stop until you were crying and reaching back to push him away. He released your head and twisted your arms behind your back painfully, keeping you still. With your head now free, you tried protesting verbally. 
“It hurts, daddy.” You whined. 
“Yeah? Keep your face in that pillow or I’ll use my belt and it’ll hurt a whole lot more.” He warned, making your breath catch in your throat. You didn’t want to find out if he was bluffing or not, so you lowered your head back down, trying not to get too embarrassed by the smell of your own arousal. 
He started spanking you again, lighter this time, but after doing it over and over, the light smacks started to hurt. You cried and squirmed and kicked your feet, trying to get a break. 
“I know…” He cooed, finally stopping to roughly rub and grope your ass, making you wince. “You can take it though.” You shook your head as a quiet sob left you. Your tears haven’t fallen yet, but you knew they were about to. 
“Please— Please… I'm sorry for being bad, daddy.” You whimpered, turning your head to try and see him. He just shushed you and continued playing with your ass for a while. When he got bored of that, he was spanking you again. He only did a few this time, but he hit you so hard… you could barely take it. You were crying now and your struggling picked up until one of your legs slid off his thigh. You held it up by your foot on the ground, but when you tried to raise it again, he placed a firm hand on that thigh to keep it in place. So you relaxed into the new position as he snaked his hand up. 
He cursed under his breath, then moved his hand to pull your panties up even further, making the outline of your cunt more pronounced. His thumb brushed over your slit, but it didn’t go anywhere near where it actually ached. 
“Now, why would my little girl be so wet during a punishment?” He asked innocently, as if his words had a less crude meaning. 
“I- I’m sorry, daddy… Can’t help it.” You whined, squirming again to try and get some kind of pressure on your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped when he pulled your panties to the side, then ran a finger through your slit. 
“Clearly you’re growing up just a little bit, but I think we can come to a fair compromise.” You waited anxiously for his proposal. “You can still be my little girl, but we’ll have some adult playtime too.” You were nodding before he even finished. “That means you can only be with daddy. Only big girls do that kind of stuff with other boys.” 
“Only you.” You promised. 
“Since I know how insatiable you're getting though, I’ll have to do checks every week, maybe more, to make sure you’re still my little girl.” 
“Checks?” You asked quietly, brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Would you like me to do one now to show you?” You agreed hesitantly and he raised his leg that was under your hips to arch your back a little. When he released your arms, you immediately brought them back up to a more comfortable position. 
He placed both hands on your thighs, just below your ass, and used his thumbs to pull you open even more, exposing you. You tried not to get embarrassed or nervous, but no one’s ever seen down there before. What if he thinks it’s ugly? What if it has a weird smell? Your thoughts were interrupted by him circling your hole with one finger. 
“Ready?” He asked, but barely dipping the tip in your entrance to tease you. 
“Y-yes.” You said through a breath. He slowly pushed his finger in and you fisted the sheets as your head dropped down— you didn’t even care about your scent on the pillow anymore. His finger was so thick and long, and you mewled quietly at the feeling. He curled it against your walls and you let out a choked moan at the new feeling. “What… What are you checking for?” You whispered, unable to speak any louder. 
“Your hymen. That’s something only little girls have. Once it’s gone, that makes you a big girl.” He explained, continuing to move his finger inside you at a torturously slow pace. 
“Daddy…” You whined breathily. The only response you got was a quiet hum, telling you to finish what you were wanting to say. “Feels good..” He suddenly pulled his finger out, forcing a strangled sob out of you. “No— please! Please keep going.” You cried as he wiped his finger on your ass to clean it off. 
“Shh. While I’m here, I might as well do a full check. Lay down.” He pulled your shorts all the way off, then you moved to the center of the bed and laid down on your back as he settled between your legs. His thumbs were pulling you apart again, but this time his finger went above your hole. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as your hips rocked, trying to get more friction. When he brushed a finger over your clit, you jolted and released a loud moan. 
“This is only for daddy to touch, do you understand? No boys, no hands, no pillows.” You nodded as you panted and bucked your hips again. 
“Only for daddy.” You mumbled almost incoherently. He continued brushing over your clit with feather light touches, but the feeling in your belly was getting more and more intense. “Please…” You whined, squirming even more. 
“Do you even know what you’re begging for, little girl?” You shook your head as your hips started moving more frantically now, like how they were when you were on the pillow. 
“Please, daddy.” You moaned, the feeling in your tummy growing tighter. He suddenly removed his finger again and you cried out loudly, all but throwing a tantrum in response. “Please! Please don’t stop..” You sobbed. “It hurts, daddy… please make it go away.” Your voice was a pathetic whimper, but you ignored the embarrassment, focusing on giving him puppy dog eyes and a pout instead. 
“No.” You let out a long bratty whine, making him bring his hand down on your clit with a loud smack. He didn’t hit too hard, but it was hard enough to make you choke on a gasp, and then silence you. He grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the ground, then sat on the edge of the bed. “Finish what you started.” 
“But,” He raised his brows, warning you to stop disobeying him and just do it. So with a pout, you moved to the floor and straddled the pillow. 
“Atta girl. Do it just like how you were when I walked in.” You blushed at the reminder, but slowly lowered yourself onto it and started moving your hips. It didn’t take long for you to get desperate enough to show your enthusiasm without shame. But you were also getting impossibly more desperate for him. 
“Daddy… please.” You whined. “Wanna touch you.” The way you whimpered and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes made him fold almost instantly. 
“Where?” 
“Wanna do this, but… on your thigh.” He sighed, but patted his leg and you scrambled up to straddle it as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
“Better?” You bit back a grin as you nodded. He suddenly grabbed your hips and started moving you against his thigh, but you quickly picked back up and started rutting against him desperately. Now that you could smell him and feel his warmth, and his strong hands holding your hips, your tummy was getting impossibly tighter with arousal. All of the friction on your clit was starting to hurt a little, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. 
“Such a good girl…” He cooed, making you whine and ride his leg faster. “I’m gonna teach you all the ways little girls can please their daddies. Do you want that, baby?”
“Mhm.” You were too spaced out to respond properly. “Daddy, it— I…” You choked out, not even knowing what it was that you were actually feeling. 
“It’s okay. Keep going.” You whined at his encouragement but obeyed eagerly, wanting to feel this pleasure longer. Your sounds got louder and your hips moved even faster until you mewled quietly as your body convulsed. You were shaking and writhing from the intense pleasure and his hands started pulling your hips when you weren’t able to focus on moving them anymore. “Good girl… Ride it out.” He said quietly and you squeezed your eyes shut as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He kept grinding your hips down on his thigh and you were sobbing out moans until it finally subsided and the achy feeling was gone. 
“How was that?” He asked, loosening his grip to an intensity that wouldn’t leave bruises. 
“What… what was…” You were panting heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down. 
“It’s called an orgasm. Only I can give them to you, do you understand?” His voice was soft but still stern. 
“Mhm.” You nodded, now so much more tired than you were a few seconds ago. He pulled the covers back, then picked you up by your hips and placed you on the bed. You laid down, then he brought the covers up and handed you your stuffed animal before tucking you in. “My little girl.” He whispered, pushing your hair out of your face. You blushed and smiled sleepily. “Only mine.” 
“Only yours..” You mumbled incoherently and he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, filling your stomach with butterflies. 
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hxlda-hxlda · 5 months
Text
“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 
famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:
“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…” 
Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come. 
The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:  
‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’ 
He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on? 
No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there. 
“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.” 
They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month. 
“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”
Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.
His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.
However. But, but, and hear him out:
By fucking god, he was bored.
Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.
So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.
“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket. 
The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic. 
“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-” 
“Why don’t we ask him right now?” 
There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry. 
“Ask… who?” 
Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring. 
On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up. 
Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all. 
On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless. 
On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then: 
“What?” 
Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always. 
“And hello to you, too.” 
“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?” 
“We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.” 
“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.” 
“You wound me, Moons.” 
That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear. 
“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?” 
“What if I just wanted to speak to you?” 
“I will hang up right now.” 
A lie. He never hangs up first. 
Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.” 
“Who?” 
“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”
Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death. 
“Greg?”
“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean. 
“Ah, Greg.” 
Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again. 
“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.
“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly. 
“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.” 
When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female. 
“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts. 
He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun. 
“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.” 
“You didn’t ask a question, Black.” 
Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good. 
“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha). 
A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then: 
“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.” 
Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year. 
“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.” 
“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it. 
“Now that would make the papers.” 
“Certainly… Is that all?” 
“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.” 
Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.” 
Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide. 
“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow. 
“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters. 
“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.” 
“That’s not–” 
“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!” 
The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it. 
And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus. 
pads !!!!!!!!!   
look what uve done  u menace 
MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕
Fake news.  Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.  
Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.
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seventhcallisto · 6 months
Text
PROLOGUE
—Deep Down.
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Toc/cw; scenting. omega in heat. talk of s3x. featuring alpha g-idle. Language. Mature Content! Talk of gender, sex, and the weird system that a/b/o roles have, including the terrible hierarchy system. It's my series so I make my own rules, period!
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Never, absolutely never, does a person get their second sex when they're born. It's no surprise they get it towards puberty, yet the majority of times, heats or ruts do not start happening until they're in their late teens- early twenties. Betas never went through that issue. They hardly ever were considered more than peace makers. For a while, they were the least chosen. While not as valuable as an alpha or as wonderful at comforting like an omega. There was still some dull middle ground. They weren't that special.
That was only for a bit, anyway. Eventually, omegas took that spot, lower on the hierarchy, whilst betas gained the middle place. You didn't agree with the system, though. It doesn't matter your second sex. It matters how you hold yourself, how you go about through life with a second sex.
And you stood by that for decades.
You took hold of a company and shaped yourself to fit their mold. Although a foreigner in this strange city, following a dream you didn't know you could grasp, you still went for it. You molded yourself to fit whatever they wanted. A calm, level-headed, peace-maker, beta. With a heart of fire and determination that'll set a field ablaze. You worked your ass off. Getting up as early as possible. Practicing. Making something of yourself. Training yourself. Learning the language.
Someone who could make even the quietest of omegas open up, and the loudest of alphas silent. You were a patient and composed person.
And when you came out on top, the very top, unreachable and untouchable, you knew you maxed out your potential. It was only then that you let it slip from your hands and into the grasp of another. You let them see what you could do, and now it was their turn.
They took it with stride. Quickly, you found yourself linked to a group you'd be a part of for life. You were surprised, to say the least.
"It smells like testosterone in here," you grimaced.
Eventually, you did get used to the stench of 8 alphas. Soon enough, you could actually smell their undertones. A mix of everything drowns every corner of the apartment you live in with them.
You were fairly the least popular in the group by a good amount. Sometimes, you chalked it up to people being oblivious. It never hurt you, why would it? You're a rare gem. Sometimes, it needs a light shined on it to really sparkle.
It's years later of cleaning up after messy alphas and teaching yourself tricks to get used to their behaviors, that you suddenly notice a difference in yourself.
"Hey, you smell different," seonghwa scruches his nose, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. You slip your shoes off in the doorway, closing it behind you. "New perfume," you reply, half hazerdly, sliding your keys into the key bowl. "I thought you liked your own scent?" He comes over and helps you with the handbag in your arm.
You hand it over to the taller guy, slipping your mask down your face. "I'm starting to stink, so i changed my perfume scent. Maybe your guys' stench is making me allergic, or I'm getting sick." You sigh tiredly when he hangs your jacket up in the closet. "No, not sick. I know what you smell like when you're sick," seonghwas eyebrows scrunch.
"You smell.. sweeter.. have you been hanging out with any omegas lately?" He questions, folding his arms over his chest. His white sweater is rolled up his arms, and his black pants hang loosely. Surely, if seonghwa is to lounge around, he's gonna do it with style. You laugh, avoiding his eyes when he catches you looking him up and down. "Ha, yeah, actually. I'm helping Kimmie prep for her heat. She plans to have a couple of mini devils running around this summer. Can you believe it?" You scoff, mentioning your long time once-trainee close friend who you grew attached too.
"Kimmie with kids, I would have never thought," you mumble under your breath, years ago you would of scoffed at the idea of young- impressionable kimmie, mature enough to consider having kids with her beta husband whom you also knew to be a trainee from before. Are you really getting that old? Seonghwa stares for a couple of seconds. His piercing eyes guide you up and down. You're staring back now. Seonghwa doesn't flinch. "Right, let's hope kim is ready for that," he laughs, and just like that, the tension breaks.
You both shuffle into the living room. Calling it a night.
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Not even two days later, you're on the couch scrolling mindlessly on your phone whilst you wait for the guys to get dressed. The practice video for one of your group songs is soon. You've only been able to practice by yourself up until that point.
Yeosang takes a seat next to you, pushing you into his side. The alpha gently taps your leg to gain your attention. "What's up?" You put your phone down, giving him your full attention. "My scent is wearing off on you," he almost pouts. You smile, turning towards him and opening your arms. "Okay, c'mere." You beckon his face into your neck. Afterward, you let him take the lead.
It takes two seconds for you to realize he's not scenting you anymore. He didn't even start. "Yeosang?" You call out, threading your fingers on the back of his neck hairs. He hums, and it sounds so far away. His scent grows heavier. "You okay?" You attempt to pull back. he chases your neck. You can hear him breathing heavily, struggling to catch his breath after every strong inhale. His soft hand snakes around your neck, gently leaning your head the opposite way so he can get more room.
You follow, cause you trust your pack member. You can feel his mouth part, his lips drawing closer to your pulse. Your eyebrows furrowed. What are you doing? Obviously, something is up. You pull away from yeosangs grasp. Backing up just a bit. You put a hand to his chest to distance yourself. It's a few seconds before yeosang seems to come back, his foggy eyes focusing. "Sorry, I.. you smell really different lately," he admits, twisting his fingers in his lap.
"How so?" You question him. "Like.. sweeter. I can smell it linger, deep down under our scents I can smell.. an omega," he admits, his eyebrows twitch down. You haven't been to Kimmies house since seonghwa asked, yet you've completely washed and cleaned yourself of her scent entirely. You don't know what to say.
"Well," you fold your legs into your lap. "I think I might be coming down with something, I changed my perfume. It could be that, too?" You can't tell if you're reassuring yourself or yeosang. He hums. His eyes search your front, glancing up at you and then down to your neck where your scent glands are. "Could you wear one of my shirts for practice? I didn't get to properly scent you, and it'd make me feel better. " his tone is more of a demand yet hes still a little shy with it. Behind his eyes, you can see the strange look he casts aside.
You smile wearily. "Sure."
Yeosang had picked a black shirt he wore very often. It took him a hot minute, but by the time you watched him go through everything in his closet, the guys were done and slipping on their shoes. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he handed it to you. A shirt that would be tight fit for yeosang hanged off you. The deepest scents you can pick out are cocoa butter and honeyed citrus, like lemonade. There's the distant scent of strong tea. The cocoa butter blends well into his scent, perfectly layered. Perfectly yeosang.
You took a deep enhale, liking the freshness of his smell. Not noticing the satisfactory smile on yeosangs face, you slipped off into his bathroom and exchanged your shirt for his. Leaving yours behind. Once you came out, you were surprised to still see him there. His scent is everywhere in this room, heavier than normal.
His eyes look your form up and down. You give a tiny spin, smiling awkwardly. Finally, his eyes meet yours, clouded with an unknown emotion. It's a few seconds of silence. You never break off eye contact.
"We're gonna be late!" Hongjoong shouts out from the front door. His voice echoes in the hallway, leading to yeosangs' room. Yeosang smiles, looking away. He makes haste to the door and leaves you. You let the breath out you were holding. What was that?
Practice takes a hard minute to start, the coolness of the room makes it easier to warm up. You're not sweating when you begin repeating steps, adjusting what you deem unfinished or sloppy. Not long does the heat kick into the room. You find yourself removing your hoodie.
"Let's get started" the manager hits the button on the camera, beginning the recording. Your eyes follow your own movement. All of ateez has said you're the ace of the group, in everything you do it seems well-executed. You doubt that sometimes.
Every move and every breath is conditioned from years of practice everyday 'til you couldn't feel your legs. Sometimes you'd go as far as to even run, dance, and jump in terrible stilletos. Which worked out in the end since the majority of the time you'd have to wear heels or platforms to match the height of the guys during every event and performance.
Sweat pools on your collar, your neck, and your forehead as you work across the room. You can smell every one of the guys as they pass around you, a flurry of scents clog your senses. You try to focus on the choreography.
You tried until your shoulder slams into someone, throwing you off balance and onto the hard wood floor. Your elbow bounces off the wood. You slide to a stop quickly. "Fuck!" you curse at the sting in your leg, hip, and ankle. The room grows extremely quiet, the music stops as quickly. Mingi bends down to your level, shock still evident on his face. "Sorry! shit, my bad, are you okay?" He reaches for your head.
"Ow" you whine, like actually whine, instead of brushing it off like you normally would. Touching your elbow. You both simultaneously notice the blood dripping off your elbow. "Why aren't you watching where you're going!?" Yunho walks up to mingi. Mingi stands up from next to you. "I didn't do it on purpose!" Mingi defends, his jaw clenches. The two stare daggers, a tense standoff so sudden you don’t know truly if you falling is the cause of it or if something else is at play. Hongjoong steps forward to stop them. A heated discussion begins.
Wooyoung and San stand back, Jaws clenched, at any moment they look ready to pounce. Yeosang stands with Seonghwa and Jongho, who look just as concerned about the growing argument, yet their faces murge into something completely different at the smell in the air.
It's something no one can put their finger on.
Your ever growing weirdly sweet scent is surprising to even you, your gut twists in an unsettled way. You don't look at their faces, trying to understand the smell and your sudden shift. What the hell is going on with you?
"Boys, out in the hallway now, please" Jongsik. The manager you've had for years steps forward. As the oldest in the room take charge, the guys looked challenged. "What about her!?" Yunho shouts out, fustrated. In the distance another aurgument begins. Mingi squats back down to your level, gently pulling your attention back to him with his hands on either side of your face. "it's not that bad, yeah? It's alright?" He wants to reassure you. "Mingi" you practically whine, pulling at his wrist. The smell of harsh and swirling emotions makes your nose scrunch, it's intense and somewhat intoxicating.
You're dizzy.
Jongsik stands firm. "Out!" He repeats himself pointing to the practice room door. He reaches for mingi's shoulder. He who pushes the older man off, standing abruptly.
Hongjoong, the pack leader, is the one that rounds up the boys and pushes them out, even mingi. Before he shuts the door. He looks at you. He's so tempted to just run back in, coddle you and wrap your elbow in bandages. Yet he closes the door anyways.
There's no defiance or whining from you. because jongsik is a beta, and already mated. He's taken on a fatherly role to you when he pulls you to your feet. "I don't feel good.." You slur. Placing a hand on your head.
"Hey, it's gonna be alright. We're gonna get you to the hospital, alright?"
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You lay on an examination bed, squirming by yourself. Anxiously you wait twirling your hand around the bandage on your elbow.
"This is something we've never seen before." With your heightened hearing, you can feel they're talking about you.
"She showed signs of being a beta for years. How could something like this happen so suddenly? It's impossible." Whispers echo in your mind.
What the hell is going on?
"Hello," a doctor, also a lady, steps in. her face is covered with a mask. "I'm Dr Liana." You try to focus, but the ache in your stomach is distracting. "It seems to have been there for a while, most likely due to continuous, omega activities, from what my colleagues and I have assumed."
"Have you been noticing anything different from your usual routine?"
You recount what you can, anything you find weird yourself. And there's so many clues, like when you stole each hoodie and wore it from everyone for a week straight just because 'you wanted too'. Or how touchy you've been recently especially with hongjoong, your pack leader. The scent change, the continuous need to please your members and let them have their way lately.
How you, oh God, how you've started collecting everyone's clothing in your closet, you called it a clothing pile. It's a nest. You've been nesting.
You've been not so subtlety feeding this hunger within you.
Realization has dawned on you for the first time in a month. And after a few more tests, you've spent a total of two days in the hospital.
Once you're out, you're immediately escorted to a heat sanctuary. A common locked and secure place for omegas going into heat.
"What I'm hearing is you're about to go into heat. It'll be a difficult process for you considering you're a beta turned omega, and it's fairly late for you to be getting your first heat, but I'm sure there's plenty of options for you."
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There were plenty of other options, yet you opted for the least embarrassing and least dreadful one. It was too late to take heat suppressants. Now, you're stuck in a somewhat luxurious hotel room with glorified room service and plenty of meds to sedate you for a week or less. They're actually so you can't feel the actual pain that comes with a heat without having a knot to sedate the feeling. If you really hoped you could sleep it off, you'd be dead wrong.
The specific question of; "do you have anyone in mind that could take care of you during your heat?" Really lingered. You thought about it. Maybe more than once, but you turned it down. No way. Nooo wayyyy. You wouldn't dare go past the first pack of alphas your mind landed on. Wouldn't even touch that book or open it in your minds eye.
Everything is very sensitive for the first day. You sweat a ton. You feel like you've lost weight, although you eat when you're not... 'foggy'. You feel the sweat pool at every corner of your temporary bed.
Anything you can get your hands on you pull, hard, and rip and tear. A pile of blankets and pillows are strewn on the floor in one giant large pile. Every once in a while you'll come back to your senses and childishly get upset at what you're doing.
No you've got nothing against omegas. You just didn't ask to be one, so therefore you're mad about being one.
Once satisfied, you spraw out and get to working on yourself with whatever you can, clothes and all. Toys. Plugs. Lube. You would have never guessed you'd end up this way. You name it, and they have it. They say there's nothing more satisfying than a knot, yet you don't enjoy the idea of what comes after. Pups? Ew. Is there even anything to counteract that? How do people just sleep with a stranger during a heat and not feel scared about what will happen in the moment? There's nothing wrong with it. It's just not your particular cup of tea.
As a beta, or.. when you were one, it wasn't very hard to find someone to hook up with. Betas have the abilities to hook up with anyone, alphas, omegas, and other betas. Although pregnancies and knotting aren't as easy for betas(you're not a big fan of wrapping it) it'll work eventually if tried enough. There's this middle ground for betas who can have it all. Relationships get difficult when you aren't as drawn to each other as an alpha and omega are, but with patience, it'll work.
There's this gross scent lingering under your skin, you can still smell the scent of your old skin, the beta you once were is suddenly being washed away by a sweet, tropical smell, an omega in full bloom. It's your second day. Yet you couldn't get more miserable. Two or three more days of this? Seriously.
You've never been a girly girl, begging for your way or kissing up to get it. You were commonly told you were a tomboy growing up. Maybe that played its role on your first designated sex. Your company pushed that role, too. Tough girl act. Rapper, Dancer. Never the face of the group. But you weren't complaining. You were the top of top trainees. Nothing could beat you down.
Yet, dressing up in baggy clothes and never looking sexually appealing was your role in the group. Tomboy rapper. Compared to the beginning of fourth gen, you were considered a girl crush but nothing else. least lines, least screen time, least roles. I mean. You trained for this, right?
Now you're stuck with a new second gender you didn't ask for. Pushing you farther behind the scenes. Just your luck.
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As soon as your first heat ends. You realize you weren't as bad. Apparently, the first heat ever is the easiest. You're supposed to get worse. Seriously. Worse? God. You can't take this. You go to the only people you know won't make a big deal out of your new.. thing.
Soyeon places a hot cup of tea right in front of you. And you can smell the scent suppressant coming from the steam. "this is supposed to help?" You sniff at it warily, grimacing at the factory like smell.
"You came to us, at our dorm, smelling like the biggest ball of 'fuck me please', take it or leave it." She clicks her tongue at you, propped up on her bed. Minnie takes a seat opposite of you, as does shuhua. "You cant even smell me, you're on scent suppressants" you groan, swirling the tea. "How do yall cope." You sigh and chug the content of the large tea cup. Soyeon laughs, minnie grimaces, and despite having a shocked look, shuhua pumps her fist in encouragement.
You've come to the group of alpha women cause, well, they're your best friends. And they're the most encouraging about any and all supplements and suppressants. They've single handedly encouraged everyone you know to take suppressants. From the front door, you hear it open and close, stepping down the hallway comes yuqi and miyeon, who do a double take.
Yuqi takes a giant whiff, and her eyes bulge. "What happened to you!?" She coughs at the stench of omega. Something she doesn't find common in their room when you're around. Miyeon scoots to the side when Soojin pushes through with a cake of some sort and a tiny charcuterie board. She places it down in front of you. You can tell the alpha in her is desperately trying to please you.
"Somehow, our poor, once beta, girl friend has changed sex." Soyeon speaks through a bite of twizzlers. You don't comment at her choice of words. Yuqi and Miyeon scoot into the room, staring at their doting member.
"There you go." Soojin pats your head and takes a seat on the bean bag in front of you. "Thanks," you sigh, digging in. The cake, which soojin explains, is a long-lasting scent changer. Magic is baked into every bite.
As for the charcuterie board. It's just something to get you some protein with the lack of good supplements in your system. In her eyes, you've lost at least half of your body weight. You haven't. Yet she's still encouraging you to take care of yourself from such a rushed heat.
"Poor girl," miyeon sighs, "I've never heard of that happening to anyone before. How's that even possible?" She takes to removing her hoodie and placing it down properly. Yuqi shuffles off her bag. Plopping onto the bed next to you. "How'd the guys react?" She steals a piece of meat from your board.
"I haven't told them" you sigh, the room goes silent.
"That's fucked up" yuqi laughs. Miyeon slaps her ankle. "So we're the first to know?" Shuhua confirms, you nod. "Wow, I'm sure they'll be happy about that," soyeon laughs lightly. You tear your eyes off shuhua. "What do you mean by that?" You clearly speak, eyebrows pulled down. Minnie places a hand on your ankle to get your attention. "Well, we're your girl pack. We'll always be your girl pack." she looks nervous.
"But the last time I hung out with you, your boys stared at me like I was an intruder in their territory." she pats your ankle. Your eyebrows pull taunt. You want to defend them. "What? No way.." You truly think about it. "Whatever you say, your boys aren't as good as we are at keeping up with our contribution to not being alpha whores" soyeon sighs pushing to sit up. "Especially mingi, he's the whoriest of them all, he goes into rut every week it seems. He needs a heavy dose of rut suppressants." she takes another chunk off her twizzler.
"You shouldn't feel obligated to tell them first. Butt.. you shouldn't be surprised when they get upset about you telling us first." The girls all nod. You fall back onto soyeons pillows. A puff of sandal wood and cinnamon surrounds you. Slowly dying down as the tea takes its hold on your heightened senses. "Maybe I should have thought this through," you rub at your eyes.
"You're always welcomed here." soojin clears your mind, patting her hand against your hip in a friendly gesture. "This won't change anything. You're still my- our best friend," soojin speaks on behalf of the girls. Everyone hums to confirm.
"Thanks," you say genuinely. "It's a bit late for you to get a drive all the way home, What'd the company say to the guys?" Miyeon perks up from the edge of the bed. "Something about me needing medical evaluation. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still in the hospital." Yuqi scoots up next to you. "Did you check your phone?"
You didn't even think about it, pulling it from your pocket. You try to power it on. "No, everything was rushed. I didn't have a chance to check anything before I had to give it up so I wouldn't expose the place I was at." The screen doesn't light up. It's completely dead.
"It's dead," you pass it to soojin, who already had her hand out to take it. She plugs it into soyeons charger. "Well, I guess you're stuck here." Shuhua and yuqi topple on top of you, squishing you into the mattress.
"Sleepover!"
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The next morning, you wake up sore. Not because of anything the girls did but because of such a long trial of whatever you did to yourself in the haze of heat. You groan when you shift your hip, burying yourself closer to the center of the makeshift bed you made in the living room.
The night was full of movies and being doted on by every one of the girls. Things aren't supposed to change because of your new sex, and that's remained true. They just baby you a little bit more than usual. "Shuhua, 'mega! Come eat! Now!" Minnie yells from the kitchen. The nickname startles you, something you've never heard before is somewhat pleasent to your ears. There's stomping towards the living room. Your head slams back down onto the pillow, pretending to sleep.
"I know you're awake." yuqis smile can be heard through her words. You can't help the prying of your lip. "Nu-uh," you grin, eyes still closed. "Get up!" She jumps on you, pulling you into a suffocating hug that she wiggles around in. You laugh and pull her equally as close. After the struggle of a couple of seconds, your exhaustion returns. Your arms fall limply around her waist.
"You doing alright?" She asks, picking herself up and off of you so you can breathe. "Yeah, I just tired myself out this week." you laugh, embarrassed. "Don't worry," shuhua perks her head up from the couch next to you. "You should have heard when yuqi had her first rut," shuhua laughs menacingly, yuqi springs up. "Shut up!" She yells. "She wouldn't stop! All night and day! We had to quarantine the whole top floor!" Shuhuas words stop on occasion when yuqi is wrestling to cover her mouth. You laugh at them.
"Hey," soojin stands over, ignoring her members. "Hi," you smile back. "Hungry?" She lends you her hand, pulling you up off the floor. "Starved," you take it, embracing her rose filled scent.
A platter of delicious food is placed right in front of you. Breakfast in their apartment is somewhat new to you. You've never really been able to stay long when you visit. Maybe you're starting to realize the guys have a stronger hold on you than you thought. Speaking of the guys. As soon as you finish your plate, Soojin places your phone down in front of you. The screen is still black, signaling she hasn't turned it on.
"You're gonna want to answer your boy toys before they stalk you down themselves," soyeon gestures. She's not wrong.
You power your phone on and let it reboot for a second. Yuqi is still eating with shuhua, talking to miyeon and minnie about something you don't pay attention to. Your phone makes a continuous notification sound when all of your messages pop up.
104 missed messages. 32 missed calls.
You're in deep shit.
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Taglist: @0325tiny @bratty-tingz @lelaleleb
(Thank you for reading ♡)
523 notes · View notes
sorbetisfruity · 1 year
Text
Imagine you and some of the TWST guys are preparing for a little party. Whether it be a tea party, or maybe an unbirthday party, idk but THERES A PARTY GOING ON OKAY?
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Obviously Ace and Deuce are there, and so is Grim and Jack and Epel. They practically follow you everywhere so of course they’d help you set up!! Even if they really don’t wanna.
Riddle, Leona, and Vil are there too. Leona doesn’t really wanna be there, but he can’t let his poor weak herbivore do it all on their own, can he?
No, he can’t. He likes you too much to leave you alone because he knows only like, 3 people are gonna help you out.
Riddle is there to make sure no one breaks any rules and behaves accordingly and Vil is there to make sure everything is absolutely perfect. It’s a big party after all, and anything other than perfect could ruin his reputation!!! And we wouldn’t want that, would we??:(
You’re setting the table, trying to make everything as perfectly set as possible. Yet no matter how straight and how perfect you put down those plates and silverware, Vil is correcting it and criticizing you.
“Is it really that hard to set the table correctly Prefect? I know not having magic shouldn’t effect your ability to set a table..” he’d complain, fixing yet another fork you apparently laid down incorrectly.
And you’d stay quiet, getting more and more upset by the minute as you continued setting the table.
And everyone could tell you were getting fed up, but decided to stay quiet for their own good, because they know how Vil is.
“Prefect, at this point it might be better for me to set this table. You’re doing it all wrong. It looks absolutely hideous.” He complained again, making you look up from the fork he asked you to adjust.
“Vil, it looks fine. Can’t you go bother somebody else? I know how to set a table.” You finally talked back, making everyone look up and turn to you two.
“It doesn’t look fine. It looks horrendous. Just like your skin. Have you been doing that skincare routine I showed you?” He fussed, reaching out to touch your face, “and besides, the table only looks a little bit better because I fixed it. Like I said, it doesn’t take magic to set a table, now does it? You should be able to do this with no issues, right?”
You backed away from him, huffing as you did so. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been too busy planning this party and with school and with you guys. I don’t have time for that stuff right now.”
Leona then interrupts, getting in between you two.
“Leave the herbivore alone, table looks fine,” he mumbled with a yawn, “if it looks so awful, maybe you should do it yourself.” He leaned against you, closing his eyes as he spoke.
You sent Leona a thankful smile, looking at Vil as he glared sharply at the both of you.
“Are you being serious? Leona, look at it. It’s a mess. Great Seven, you can’t even set a table correctly. What are you good for, anyways? You’re magicless, you lack strength in general, you can’t even take care of yourself, and your grades are slipping!”
“You’re awful. I will never, never understand why the Black Mirror brought you here.”
The room went silent. The dishes in your hand went clattering to the floor, some shattering on impact.
You knew he can be an asshole, but fuck man.
That hurt.
That hurt a lot.
“You know what, Vil? Fuck you. I’m fucking trying, okay? But it’s hard to focus on things when I’m tackling one overblot and problem after another. I know you’re stressed out and shit, but you don’t need to take it out on me.” You took a deep breath, glaring at him as you teared up.
“I’m so fucking done.”
Before you knew it, your eyes were filled with tears and you were running out the door, hearing your friends shout for you as you ran.
God you wanna go home..
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Oh how I love angst!!
I really wanna make a part 2!! Would you guys like that? Lemme knowwwww!!
If I do make a part two, we’ll see Neige and get a lil more info about Vil and why he said what he said🤞🤞
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1K notes · View notes
wolfiesmoon · 3 months
Note
Hiiii! (I hope this is the place to make requests aaaaa haven’t done this in a W H I L E) but can I request pocky challenge headcanons for Floyd, Vil, and Idia? :)
Hope you’re having a great week and I love your writing :D
the way i freaked out over receiving this omg i'm so happy u like my writing😭😭😭
i love pocky challenge fics and you really fed me with the characters you chose since I have like 3467346826428 vil and idia drafts i can't get into rn. also we already know how my brain is rotting over floyd the eel boy at the moment
ALSO ALSO ALSO you aren't dating yet in these!! you're still just friends (but not for long😈)
(@kairiscorner i borrowed ur idea of picking out what flavour would fit them to add a little spice, I hope u don't mind!)
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☾⋆⁺₊ Floyd Leech + Pocky Colorful
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he gets really excited when you pull out the box of pockies 😆i mean, sharing food with you????? that's, like, the third best thing he can do with you!
and these pockies look rlly funny too, what does "colorful" even taste like? He's kinda in a mood to find out 😌
and gets even MORE excited when you mention the challenge!!!!
I mean, kissing AND sharing food with you?! he calls that a win for sure 😤😤😤😤
you're rlly surprised at how casual he is about it considering you just challenged him to try and kiss you essentially
but okay, i guess it is kinda Floydcore to just casually agree to a pocky game with no blushing or getting flustered (i suppose this means he likes you back??? what a mystery he is...)
you laugh to yourself at the silly grin on his face as u pull out a pocky and place one end into your mouth, leaning towards him to let him take the other end
he does so and you close your eyes, feeling kinda giddy all of a sudden
but you can still feel his downturned peepers staring a hole into you, curious to see every facial movement and reaction you may have👁️👁️
he must be really excited then!! (even if you feel extremely unsettled rn)
you slowly bite down on the stick, getting nervous. you can definitely hear him crunching on it too...
you can feel his breath, your noses bump for a moment and you think "THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT"
but then you hear a *snap* and the pocky falls out of your mouth... what just happened?
"I bit into it a bit too hard..." You open your eyes to see Floyd pouting like a toddler who was told he can't have candy
"It's okay, we can do it again!" you take out another pocky stick, placing the end in your mouth and looking at him expectantly
must be hard having such sharp teeth sometimes💔
"Now I don't feel like it anymore." Floyd huffed, getting up and walking away💀
That little... you still love him anyway tho🤷🏻
☾⋆⁺₊ Vil Schoenheit + Apple Yogurt Pocky
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initially, he'd refuse since pockies are sweets and he needs to watch his sugar if he wants to keep his model figure and his clear skin
but he supposes sugar is nice to enjoy every once in a while (especially if he gets to share it with you)
but THEN you ask him if he's ever heard of the pocky challenge before😈
"I have heard of it in passing but I don't know what is actually is, why?" he raises an eyebrow, recalling some comments from his fans talking about it after the Pocky commercial he was in
"Becauuuuse, I think you should do it with me." you blink at him innocently before going on to explain the rules and seeing his eyes widen 😌
"So, what you're saying is... If neither of us back out, we kiss?"
WAIT WHAT
You actually expected him to turn you down immediately and chew you out for even making the suggestion since you're just friends but this certainly took a turn for the better
"Precisely." you smirked
"Just so you know, I'm not one to back out once I set my mind onto something." he smirked back at you, taking out a pocky stick from the box and placing it in front of your mouth for you to bite onto
the stick slowly begins to get smaller as your lips inch closer to his and you grip the couch you're currently sat on nervously
You take another bite and suddenly feel his lips on yours🤭
SUCCESS! SUCCESS! SUCCE-
"Oh? This is an interesting flavour~"
wait... you recognise that voice😨
"ROOK?!" the two of you separated and yelled at the same time, then turned your heads to see Rook casually enjoying your Pocky beside you
"Did you both enjoy the flavour as well?" Rook smiled innocently at you, taking out another one from the box
Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath while you just sat there in shock🧍🏻
☾⋆⁺₊ Idia Shroud + Sakura Pocky
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being the candy enjoyer that he is, he would never turn down free pocky (especially not his favourite... which speaking of, how did you know that one is his favourite?)
(ortho supplied you with that information)
however, his smile dropped when you started talking about the challenge all of a sudden
and he became all red instead🤭
"You got all that?" you asked, waving the pocky stick in front of his face with an innocent smile
"D-Do I- Do I...."
babe, he cannot form a sentence right now, much less process anything you just told him. you cannot POSSIBLY expect him to give you a clear answer right now🙄
"Oh, do you not wanna do it? That's fine." you get up, ready to leave (you're doing this on purpose, manipulation is key😈)
but no, seriously, you weren't going to make him do anything he was uncomfortable with, and you kinda expected a reaction like this anyways😭
"N-No, No, I want to..." he grabs onto your sleeve awkwardly, literally shaking from embarrasment
you're actually kinda worried, will he even survive till the whole kiss part?
No time like the present to find out, you suppose
you place the pocky in your mouth, waiting for him to bite into the other end. he does and immediately screws his eyes shut, WAAAY too embarrased to look at you
the distance between the two of you slowly closes but when there's just a bit of the pocky stick left he lets go and immediately runs away, hair slightly red at the ends😫
"Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god...." he whispers to himself over and over, thinking about how he almost kissed you just now
atleast he got to eat his favourite flavour...????
"Did it fail?" Ortho came out of his hiding spot and you nodded, pouting slighly☹️
"That's plan G crossed off the list. You wrote down '7 minutes in heaven' for plan H. Though I do not know what that is, I will assist you in any way I can."
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reiderwriter · 6 months
Text
Baby, If You Only Knew
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x female Reader
Part Two of this fic, inspired by Taylor Swift's I Can See You
Summary: On the edge of a break, you and Spencer find ways to claim each other that get everyone's attention.
Warnings: Day 17 of Kinktober - make-up sex, possessive Spencer, marking, biting, love bites/ hickeys, penetrative sex, creampie, breeding kink.
A/N: Day 17 is finally here! I once again wrote this on my phone, but at least it was my nice, new, functioning phone. I hope you like it!
Sneaking back out of the closet wasn't easy when you were so pissed at Spencer. He wasn't able to control his impulses, and now it was your problem. So yes, it was hard to storm out of a closet in the middle of an argument without drawing the attention of all your team members. 
They each sent you strange looks as you walked back to your temporary desk and finished up your work, not talking to anyone until the days work had ended and you could escape back to your motel room for some much needed peace. 
Spencer didn't feel so strongly about your need to be alone. Catching a hand around the door before you shut it, he let himself in and closed it behind himself as you hugged and threw your bags down. 
"I don't want to fight again, Spencer, I'm tired."
"Then don't fight, but you need to listen." 
"Oh, do I? Couldn't imagine what else I'll be able to do in my room when you pushed your way in here." 
"Don't be unreasonable." He said wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you up into him once again.
"You know, for someone whose such a stickler for our no public dating rule, you sure have been risky today. Pushing me into that closet, following me into my private room." Your words were angry, but they were softened by the feeling of him against you. 
"I told you, if they were good at their jobs they'd have realised how I feel about you by now." 
"Sometimes people need words, Spencer to make things very clear," his head fell to your neck then, inhaling your scent before pressing his lips lightly against your skin. 
"What people would that be? You? Detective Dreamy?" He pressed another kiss to your skin, distracting you momentarily. Your next words came out in a stutter, and you almost cursed how weak you were being now. 
"That's not fair and you know it." 
"Let's test that theory, shall we?" He bit down on your neck then, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his centre as he began rubbing up against your core, head not lifting from the spot on your neck he'd evidently taken a liking to. 
"Spencer, fuck.." Your moans were breathy, held back by your anger and the knowledge that you were surrounded on both sides by FBI agents trying to get some sleep. 
"So pretty for me, just a little longer, I swear." You had no clue what he was talking about, and you weren't sure you cared, letting him suck and kiss and lick in anyway he wanted, just as long as he didn't stop. You could feel his dick in his pants, could feel it poking up against you as his hips shifted up and down, trying to give the both of you some release. 
He pulled away sharply after a few minutes, grinning boastfully at the blooming mark on your neck. 
"There," he said, wiping his lips carefully, setting you back down. "Is that enough of a public announcement for you?" You clapped a hand over your neck and ran to the bathroom to check your suspicions. 
Sure enough, there was a ferocious red mark that you were sure would swiftly discolour to purple. 
"Get out. Now, Spencer." He didn't stick around for long after that, evidently just as angry as you, but wearing that stupid smug look on his face still. He left you alone in your room and you wanted to scream and cry and make him come back and finish. 
You climbed into bed and let sleep take you. 
The next morning, you searched long and hard for an item of clothing that would cover his territorial marking. But your go bag had limited items in it, a fact that he'd known and exploited, placing the mark just high enough to poke over all the tops you out on. 
If he was going to play petty, you would, too. Pulling out your lowest cut top, you wrapped your hair up into a bun and decided to forego makeup entirely. He wanted the world to see what he'd done, and you were going to let them. 
Just as you'd suspected, Spencer's plan didn't work as he'd hoped. Instead of the team settling quietly and connecting the dots between the two of you quietly, they were almost more curious about what had happened. 
"Wooo, mama, getting up too close and personal with the locals are we? Good for you." Morgan had cheered at you S soon as you'd walked into the precinct that morning. 
You had similar, careful questions from JJ and Hotchner as well, and Emily had slapped you on the back and laughed maniacally as she asked you if you'd had a good lay. The best part was Spencer got to watch all of it happen, he got to watch himself get proved wrong right in front of his eyes and his stupid ego wouldn't let him say a word either way. 
You gave him a wink as you sat next to him, ready to continue reading up on files that'd help you nail the criminal. You had a suspect, now you just needed irrefutable evidence and possibly a confession to be able to return home. 
Your local admirer had followed you into the room, however, and you weren't expecting to have such a direct confrontation with the man who'd until this point had been nothing but polite. 
"You know, if you weren't interested, you could've said so in a less slutty way. Now you're parading around this precinct like a cheap whore. Not a good look." He said it so nonchalantly, you didn't even realise he was talking to you at first, only really tuning in when Spencer stiffened up beside you. 
"Excuse me?" You blinked at him again, wondering if you'd truly misheard him. 
"You heard what I said, you look like a who-" 
"Finish your sentence and I promise you, I'll have your badge, gun and pension by the end of the day." Spencer growled the words from your side, forcing the man to meet his eyes. 
"Come on, you're a smart man, Doctor Reid, surely you know what a little slut she's being, trying to play hard to get." You have to grab Spencer by the arm to stop him from reaching over the table and hitting the man. He responds by pulling you into his chest, effectively lifting you from your chair into his lap. 
"My girlfriend is not a whore just because she doesn't want your tiny dick. I'd say that actually makes her quite sensible." Your heart thumps at the confrontation, but choking on the tense atmosphere in the room, you're unable to say anything until Emily bursts into the room, breaking whatever spell had trapped you there in that pissing match. 
"Y/N– oh. We, uh, we need you in interrogation." Spencer grabbed your hips and stood you up, but he didn't let his hands leave you as he held his angry gaze with the detective. Spinning you around he bought your lips down to his, smothering you for a good minute before releasing you to Emily. You stumbled slightly, but made your way over, silently reeling at your boyfriends actions.
It was possessive, and shitty, and territorial, and so goddammit funking arousing. The growl in his voice had sent a spark through you that made you want to press your legs together until it stopped. So when the time comes for you to clock off that night, suspect safely behind bars, you practically skip all the way to your motel room. 
Once again, you found yourself with an alien object in the door, blocking you from closing it completely. This time, it was Spencer's satchel. 
"You trying to shut me out again?" He asks, a small smile grazing his lips.
"That depends, are you going to make me mount you in the office again tomorrow?"
"I was thinking the jet, actually. Join the club, you know?" He dropped his bags by the door and pulled you in for a kiss, letting you moan softly against his skin.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling away and walking you back to the bed until it hit the backs of your legs and you let them buckle beneath you. "He wouldn't have talked to you like that if I hadn't marker you up like that." 
His words were an apology, but the fire in his eyes said he didn't really regret a thing. In fact, you were sure that'd he'd do it all again in an instant, but this time he wouldn't stop short on the violence.
"No, you're not." 
"No, I'm not. He shouldn't have talked to you, but I did enjoy watching him realise whose good little whore you are." You gasp at the words as he pushes you down fully on the bed, lips meeting yours again in a furious clash. 
"Fuck, Spencer," You gasped, as he ripped apart the tights you were wearing, desperate for access to your body. 
"I enjoyed it so much, I think I'm going to do it again. That's what you want, right baby?" He kissed his way down your neck while spreading your neck. It was more gentle than the previous night, more tender, but you knew you'd be waking up just as sore, so what did that matter now. 
Nails digging into your skin as he pushed the tights away from your core, you gasped at the contact, opening your chest and neck up further for him as you reacted to the sensations plaguing your body. 
You moved your hands up to unbutton his shirt, certain that anything he was going to do  you were going to repay tenfold. Undressing became a war between the two of you as you rolled around, mouths still connected, desperate to see each other completely undone first. 
Spencer had the advantage of not caring about how much of a wreck your clothes were, and in almost an instant, you were bare to him.
He kissed up and down your neck, over your breasts and down your stomach, leaving a trail of happy red marks to match his previous artwork. Installing each one took time, but you willingly gave him the freedom to bite, suck and sooth your skin, knowing you'd be on display for him for the rest of your life. He was still trapped inside his boxers, cock sufficiently hard and distracting against your core. When he finally pulled away to admire his work, you took the opportunity to push up, rolling the two of you over so you could grind into his large member as you gave reciprocated his kisses. 
He stoked a soothing hand down your back as you writhed on top of him, leaving a trail of small love bites from collar bone to collar bone, pressing a few higher just so you knew they'd be seen in the morning.
"That's it baby, you belong to me. Let's show everyone." When he decided you'd done enough, he flipped your position again, finally letting his cock free and shoving it into you with little warning, leaving you crying out his name as you finally received what you'd been begging for.
"Yes, Spencer, right there, right fucking there." Your voice was loud, desperate and raspy, like you wanted to hear what a desperate slut you were. He reciprocated in kind, playing into the pleasure of the moment.
"Oh you like that? You like my cock inside of you? Tell me who that pussy belongs to." 
"Spencer! It belongs to you, it belongs to Spencer." His fingers fell to his clit as he pulled his dick out of you for a second. Flipping you over onto all fours, he thrust in again, picking up a rougher pace as you listened to the creak of the bed, the wet slap of his balls against your ass. 
"That's right, my little slut, Y/N. My little slutty girlfriend." His arms wrapped around your torso as he began thrusting like a dog in heat, using your warm wet holes to get off, as a place to dump his load. 
"Gonna fill your fucking pushy so everyone knows who you belong to. Gonna knock you up and keep you filled so you remember, too." He pulled your head up by your hair as he said the words, and in an instant you were Cummings on his cock, screaming his name as he somehow found the energy to increase his speed.
The hand in your hair was the only thing keeping you from collapsing into the bed, your face covered in the tangle of hair and the drool dropping from your open mouth. 
"Did you hear me, Y/N? I'm gonna breed you. You want that?" You loudly moaned another barely coherent 'yes' and then you were away in the clouds, letting your eyes roll back in your head as the first rope of cum shot into you. 
He kept his hips flush with yours as he released into you, loving the feeling of your walls milking him for all he's got. He didn't pull out until he was certain that not a drop would fall out. 
He make a start to move towards the bathroom when the room phone rang, practically jumping off it's receiver. Picking yp the phone, Spencer greeted the reception clerk, knowing you were still such a panting mess, you'd never be able to carry out such a mundane conversation.
But mundane it was not as you watched your boyfriend flush in front of your eyes. 
"We got a noise complaint." He told you shyly, and you greeted him with a fit of giggles, breaking into crying laughter after about 10 seconds of looking at his bewildered face. 
"Where from?" 
"Room 127. It's the one on this side." He said gesturing to the left. That only set you off into more laughter, frustrating him ever so slightly. 
"What? What's so funny?"
"Spencer, that's Morgan's room. I guess if he didn't know from his brilliant profiling skills before he will now."
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