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layce2015 · 8 months

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Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Two Minutes To Midnight

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean asked Sam while I run my hand over my eyes, upset. "Dean..." Sam tried to say, but Dean talks over him. "...No, don't 'Dean' me. I mean, you... you have had some stupid ideas in the past, But this." He growls then I turn to Bobby. "Did you know about this?" I asked Bobby as he wheels himself up in the kitchen doorway. "What?" Bobby asked. "About Sam's genius plan to say 'yes' to the devil?" Dean elaborated, angrily.

Bobby stares at him for a moment, then nods. "Well, thanks for the heads up!" Dean exclaimed, angrily. "Hey, this ain't about me." Bobby said and I turn to Sam. "You can't do this." I told Sam. "That's the consensus." Sam said, shrugging. "All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion." Dean said.

At that moment his phone starts ringing. He takes it out while pointing at Sam. "This isn't over." He told his brother, then he answers his phone. "Hello?" he said then he stops. "Ariel?" Dean said, glancing to me and Sam. "Wait, you found Cas?" He said and I raise my head up at him. "Is he okay?" I asked him. Dean holds up his hand to me, telling me to wait. "Wait, let me put you on speaker." He said then he pulls the phone away from his ear, presses a button and holds it up.

"Okay...Where the hell are you guys?" Dean asked them. "A hospital." Ariel's voice said. "Is he okay?" Dean asked, worried. "No." She replied, simply. Dean waits for her to say more but she doesn't. "You want to elaborate?" Dean asked.

"He just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought he was brain-dead." Ariel explained. "S-so, a hospital?" Dean asked then we hear Cas' voice in the background. "Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I'm told it upset the sailors." Castiel explained.

"Uh, well, I got to tell you guys...You're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box." Dean said. "How?" Castiel and Ariel asked, while Cas grunts in pain. "It's a long story, but, look...we're going after Pestilence now. So if you guys want to zap over here..." Dean said.

"I can't zap anywhere." Castiel said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked. "You could say my batteries are...are drained." Castiel said. "What do you mean? You're out of angel mojo?" Dean asked. "I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm saying that I'm just incredibly..." Castiel explained.

"Human. Wow. Sorry." Dean said. "I have enough power for both of us to get out of here but...I need to make sure Cas is well enough to travel." Ariel said. "You sure? Bobby can wire you guys the cash..." Dean said but Ariel talks over him. "No, we'll be fine. Like I said, if Cas is truly human, I need to make sure he gets properly checked over. Once we get cleared here, we'll come back." Ariel said. "Well, at least let Bobby send you some money to pay for the hospital stay." Dean said and Bobby narrows his eyes at him. "I will?" He asked as Dean was about to hang up his phone.

"Dean, wait." Castiel said and Dean stopped. "Ariel told me you said no to Michael. I owe you an apology." Castiel said. "Cas...I-it's okay." Dean said, smiling a little. "You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be." Castiel said and Dean pauses for a moment. "Thank you....I appreciate that." He said. "You're welcome." Castiel said and Ariel hangs up before Dean could say anything else.

Later, Sam, Dean, and I went outside and got into the Impala. "Be careful." Bobby tells us. We nodded and drive off to find Pestilence.

That night, the boys and I watch Serenity Valley Convalescent Home from the Impala. "So this is Dr. Evil's lair, huh?" Dean asked, lowering his binoculars. "It's kind of more depressing than evil." Sam said as we watch one of the nurses wheel an old man back into the building.

"It's like a four-color brochure for dying young. Of course, to Pestilence, it's probably Dollywood in there." I said. "Great. A whole building full of people. We don't know who's human, who's demon, and who's Pestilence. So what do we do?" Sam asked. "Hang on." Dean said and he looks through his binoculars again.

Minutes later, we enter the building and found the security room door, which Dean opens the door and poke his head in. "Hey. Hi. Uh, I'm looking for my Nana. Uh, her name is Eunice Kennedy." He said. "Go around front and see the nurse." The guard inside said. Dean glances back to us then goes inside shutting the door behind him. Sam and I glance at each other then away to see if anyone's coming.

Then we hear Dean knock on the door and we quickly slip into the room while Dean pulls the guard into a corner out of the way. "Eunice Kennedy?" Sam asked. "That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth." Dean said. "Yeah, you would know." I grumbled, with a sneer, and Dean turns his head to me and I shrug a bit.

We sit down in front of the screen and spend what felt like hours watching them. "So, what are..." I started to asked but then I notice Dean had drifting off to sleep, leaning his head against my shoulder. I roll my eyes at this then I flick his forehead, waking him up. "Hey." I said and he sits up, quickly. "What are we even looking for?" I asked as he shakes his head to wake himself up. "Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick." Dean said as he runs his hand over his eyes. "Everybody looks sick." Sam remarked.

We spend hours watching the camera until a man leaves a room cause a distortion on the monitor. "Hey." I said, pointing to it. Dean, who's been pacing to keep himself awake, comes over to look at the screens. We watch as each monitor has a distortion when ever the man is caught by the camera. "Oh, now we're talking." Dean said, smirking.

We exit the security room and made our way through the halls to catch up to the man. Ducking behind a wall to avoid one of the nurses seeing Sam holding Ruby's knife and Dean and I holding shotguns. We continue down the hall, passing an open room where a nurse was checking in on one of the patiences.

Further along, I suddenly start to feel sick and we all started coughing, my vision became blurry with tears but we pressed on. We round the corner and found the bodies of a doctor and a nurse. I lean on the wall while the boys leaned on the opposite wall for support, Sam coughs up blood onto his hand. "Ugh...Must be getting close." He said. "You think?" Dean asked.

We keep going, getting sicker and sicker with every step. Finally, my body couldn't take it any more and I start to sink to the floor.

"(Y/n)?" Dean said, coming over to me. He tries to help me up and tries to get me to keep going, but we both stumble and I fall to the floor. Sam stumbles to his feet and slowly made his way to the room, while Dean crumbles to the floor unable to keep going as well. We all lay on the floor, coughing uncontrollably.

Sam makes it to the room and the door is open by a nurse. Sam raises the knife to her but the nurse was unfazed by it. "The doctor will see you now." She said, stepping aside showing Pestilence was sitting on the bed next to a dead old woman.

"Sam. Dean. (y/n)." Pestilence said, waving for us to come froward. Sam keels over and falls to the floor. "Come right in." Pestilence said. The nurse steps out into the hall and drags Dean and I into the room next to Sam.

"Hmm. You three don't look well. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever." Pestilence said, getting up from the bed staring down at us as we continue coughing. "Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis." Pestilence said, then clicks his tongue as he shakes his head. "That's no fun." He said.

Pestilence steps closer, grabbing Sam by his hair and lifting his head up to look at him. "However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?" He asked, dropping Sam and letting his face drop back down to the floor. "Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself...Very...Pure...Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose...divide and conquer." Pestilence said as Dean reaches for the knife that Sam had dropped.

But Pestilence steps on his hand, stopping him. "That's why, in the end...It always wins." Pestilence said, kicking the knife away before releasing Dean. "So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so MESSY...AND WEAK! It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now...On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?" Pestilence asked as he takes out glasses from his pocket and puts them on.

The door flies open and Castiel walks in. "Cas." Dean and I said, surprised and relieved. "How'd you get here?" Pestilence asked Castiel, taking off his glasses. "I took a bus. Don't worry, I..." Castiel said but then he falls to the floor, coughing. "Well, look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that's fascinating. There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?" Pestilence asked as he leans over Castiel, grinning.

But then Pestilence was pulled backwards and slammed against the desk. "He's not alone." Ariel said as she appeared behind him. The demon nurse charges at Ariel but Ariel waves her hand and the nurse flies back. Then Ariel raises the knife, Sam dropped, grabs his arm and cuts off Pestilence's ring finger and pinky finger. Pestilence screams out in pain then pulls his bloody hand away.

The nurse gets up and goes after Ariel again but Castiel tackles her down and they fight. Ariel then goes over, grabs the demon and stabs her, killing her.

With the ring cut off, we were suddenly healthy again and we stand up then Dean picks up the finger to retrieve the ring. "It doesn't matter. It's too late." Pestilence said, before he disappears. I furrow my brow at this then look over at the others, who also had the same confused, concerned expression.

We return to Bobby's and Dean drops Pestilence's ring in the desk in front of Bobby. "Well, it's nice to actually score a home run for once, ain't it?" Bobby said, but no one says anything. "What?" He asked us. "Last thing Pestilence said. it's too late." Sam said. "He get specific?" Bobby asked. "No." I replied. "We're just a little freaked out that he might have left a bomb somewhere. So please tell us you have actual good news." Dean said and Bobby pauses for a moment.

"Chicago's about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die." He said. "Huh." Dean muttered, looking down.

"I don't understand your definition of good news." Castiel said while Ariel paces. "You and me both, Cas." I said. "I think what Bobby is saying is that...Death, the horseman...he's gonna be there." She said and Bobby nods. "Exactly! And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back." Bobby explained.

"Yeah, you make it sound so easy." Dean said. "Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it." Bobby said. "Well...Bobby, h-how'd you put all this together, anyways?" Sam asked. "I had, you know...Help." Bobby said, quietly, seeming unusually nervous all of a sudden.

We hear a glass clink and turn to see Crowley in the kitchen pouring himself a drink. "Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all." He said to Bobby as he picks up his glass and walks over to lean on the doorframe of the library and kitchen. "Hello, gang. Pleasure, et cetera." He said to us, taking a sip of his drink. "Go ahead. Tell them. There's no shame in it." He said to Bobby, setting his glass down.

We all turn to Bobby. "Bobby? Tell us what?" I asked, very worried. "World's gonna end. Seems stupid to get all precious over one little...Soul." Bobby said. "You sold your soul?" Dean asked, dumbfounded. "Oh, more like pawned it. I fully intend to give it back." Crowley said. "Well, then give it back!" I growled at him. "I will." Crowley said. "Now!" Dean and I yelled.

"Did you kiss him?" Sam asked Bobby. "Sam!" Dean said, exasperated. "Just wondering." Sam replied. We all look at Bobby, who looks between us. "No!" He exclaimed and Sam narrows his, suspicious. Crowley clears his throat and we look at him to see he was holding out his phone which has a picture of himself and Bobby kissing.

"Why'd you take a picture?" Bobby asked, ashamed, while Crowley glances at the photo. "Why do you have to use tongue?" He asked. We all turn to Bobby again, in shock, while Bobby glares at Crowley, who smiles back at him.

"All right. You know what? I'm sick of this." Dean growled as her walks over to Crowley. "Give him his soul back now." He ordered. "I'm sorry. I can't." Crowley said. "Can't or won't?" Dean asked. "I won't, all right? It's insurance." Crowley said. "What are you talking about?" I asked. "You kill demons. Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it. But you won't kill me...As long as I have that soul in the deposit box." Crowley said, waving his phone before putting it away in his pocket.

"You son of a bitch." Bobby growled. "I'll return it. After all this is over, and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?" Crowley asked and I glared at him.

I went outside with Dean to help him pack the trunk when Sam walks up. He sighs and he leans against the car. "Let me guess. We're about to have a talk." Dean said. "Look, guys, um...For the record...I agree with you. About me. You think I'm too weak to take on Lucifer. Well, so do I. Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up I am. You two, Bobby, Cas, Ariel...I'm the least of any of you." Sam explained.

"Oh, Sam..." Dean and I mutter as Dean leans on the car next to him. "No, it's true. It is. But...I'm also all we got. If there was another way..." He said then he paused for a moment, shrugging. "But I don't think there is. There's just me. So I don't know what else to do. Except just try t-to do what's got to be done." He explained.

"Aaaand...Scene." Crowley's voice said and we turn to see him walking around the Impala to join us on the other side. "There's something you need to see." He said and he hands a newspaper to Sam. "Niveus pharmaceuticals is rushing delivery of its new swine-flu vaccine to 'stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak. Uh, shipments leave Wednesday." Sam reads aloud. "Niveus pharmaceuticals. Get it?" Crowley asked, we stare at him blankly.

Crowley sighs. "You three are lucky you have your looks. Your demon lover, Brady? V.P. of distribution, Niveus." He said then the boys and I exchanged a look of realization. "Ah, yes, that the sound of the abacus clacking? We all caught up?" Crowley asked. "So, Pestilence was spreading swine flu." I said. "Yeah, but not just for giggles. That was step one. Step two is the vaccine. And you think..." Dean said, being interrupted by Crowley. "I know. I'll stake my reputation... That vaccine is chock-full of grade-a, farm-fresh croatoan virus." He said.

"Simultaneous, countrywide distribution. It's quite a plan." I said. "They don't get to be horsemen for nothing. So, you lot better stock up on...Well, everything. This time next Thursday, we'll all be living in zombieland." Crowley said, the boys and I exchange worried looks.

That night, I was helping Bobby pack his van while Castiel was standing around, depressed. "What's your problem?" Bobby asked the angel. "This is what they mean by 'the 11th hour,' right?" Castiel asked. "Pretty much." I replied, shrugging. "Well, it's the 11th hour, and I am useless. All I have is this." Castiel said, waving a shotgun. "What am I even supposed to do with it?" He asked. "Point it and shoot." Bobby said, like it was so obvious. "It's easy Cas. You'll get the hang of it." I said, patting him on shoulder.

Castiel shook his head. "What I used to be..." He started to say. "Are you really gonna bitch to me?" Bobby asked and Castiel glances at him then looks away. "Bobby, be nice." I said to him and Bobby scoffs then looks back at Cas. "Quit pining for the varsity years..." Bobby said, wheeling himself over and tossing his duffle bag to Castiel. "And load the damn truck." He said, wheeling away.

Castiel sighs and tosses the bag in the van when Ariel appears. "You'll be fine, Cas. I'll have enough power for the both of us." Ariel said and she pats his shoulder as he looks down and I give Cas a sympathetic look. "Everything will be okay, Cas." I said and I pat his back then I go over to the boys.

"All right, well...Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse." Dean said to me and Sam. "Yeah. Good luck killing Death." Sam said to Dean. "Yeah." Dean said, nodding, and I scoff. "Remember when we used to just...hunt wendigos? How simple things were?" I asked them. "Not really." Dean replied and Sam sighs. "Well, um..." He said and he pulls out Ruby's knife. "...You might need this." He said to Dean.

"Keep it." Crowley said, suddenly appearing again, then he hands Dean a small scythe. "Dean's covered. Death's own. Kills, golly, demons and angels and reapers and, rumor has it, the very thing itself." He said. "How did you get those?" Castiel asked while Ariel eyes him with suspicion. "Hello...king of the crossroads. So, shall we?" Crowley said, then he looks to Bobby.

"Bobby, you just gonna sit there?" He asked. "No, I'm gonna riverdance." Bobby said, sarcastically. "I suppose if you want to impress the ladies. Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact...you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf." Crowley said, we stared at him confused.

"What can I say? I'm an altruist. Just gonna sit there?" Crowley asked. We all turn to Bobby, who looks down at his legs, shocked. He twitches his foot and looks up, astounded then Bobby gets out of his wheelchair, amazed. We all stared at him, equally amazed.

"Son of a bitch." Bobby whispered. "Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy." Crowley said, waving his hands vaguely. "Thanks." Bobby said, sincerely. "This is getting maudlin. Can we go?" Crowley asked, gesturing to the Impala then turns away. "I'm coming with you, Dean. I don't really trust him." Ariel said to Dean. "You sure?" I asked her and she nods then follows Crowley.

Ariel and Crowley go to the Impala, while Bobby, Sam and Castiel go in the van, leaving me and Dean alone. “So…” Dean muttered, slightly looking away. “So.” I repeated, an awkward silence fell over us for a brief moment which Dean breaks by clearing his throat. “Be careful and uh…watch out for Sammy.�� He said and I nod.

“I will. You and Ariel be careful too.” I said and Dean nods, turning to leave but stops. “Something else you want to say?” I asked as Dean turns back to me, opening his mouth looking hesitant.

“You um….when this is over. Do you uh…want to do something? Maybe get a beer?” Dean asked, looking like a flustered teenager asking a girl out for the first time. I smile a little at how uncharacteristically nervous he is. “Maybe. Are you buying?” I asked and Dean smirks and nods. “Sure.” He said.

“Alright. Sounds good.” I said and Dean nodded. “Good, good. I’ll uh…see you when this is over.” He said, continuing to be nervous, and I couldn’t help but giggle at this. “Are you always this nervous when you ask a girl out for a drink?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “Only the pretty ones.” Dean replied and I blushed at this.

Dean smirks a little. “See ya, weirdo.” He said, turning and heading towards the Impala. I smile as I watch him go. “See ya, jackass.” I said, feeling my heart flutter, as I go over to the van.

"Yes to Lucifer. Then jump in the hole. It's an interesting plan." Castiel said. "That's a word for it." Bobby said, sarcastically, and I scoff out a laugh. "So? Go ahead and tell me it's the worst plan you ever heard." Sam said to Cas, exasperated. "Of course. I am happy to say that if that's what you want to hear. But it's not what I think." Castiel said and we all turn our heads to him.

"Really?" Sam and I said, shocked. "You two and Dean have a habit of exceeding my expectations. Dean resisted Michael. Maybe you could resist Lucifer but there are things that you would need to know, Sam." Castiel said. "Like?" Sam asked. "Michael has found another vessel." Castiel said and I gasp.

"What?" Sam asked. "It's your brother Adam. You must have considered it." Castiel said, sounding like it was obvious. "We were trying not to." I said and Sam nods. "Sam....If you say yes to Lucifer and then fail...This fight will happen. And the collateral...It'll be immense. There's also the demon blood." Castiel said to Sam.

"What? What are you talking about?" Sam asked. "To take in Lucifer, it would be more than you've ever drunk." Castiel warns. "But...Why?" I asked him. "It strengthens the vessel. Keeps it from exploding." Castiel explains.

"But the guy he's in now --" Sam said then Castiel answers his unfinished question. "He's drinking gallons." he said. "And how is that not the worst plan you ever heard?" Bobby asked as Sam and I exchange looks.

We make it to the Pharmaceuticals warehouse and parked then Bobby pulls out his binoculars. "Yup, they're loading up hotshots of Croatoan in the trucks. Okay. First truck don't leave for an hour. We get in, we plant the c-4 every 25 feet, then we pull the fire alarm." He said.

"That truck is leaving." Castiel said as he points out a truck leaving and I curse under my breath. "Balls! Okay, new plan." Bobby said and we start to rush out of his van.

"Help!" A voice calls out to us as we get up to the warehouse. "Side door!" Bobby yells and we go over to the side to see a door. "Help me, please! Help!" a panicked, fearful voice called out as we get to the door. "Get back!" Sam orders and he shoots through the door lock, opening the door.

"Go. Come on, boys. Go." I shout as we run inside and see a whole pack of Croatoan infected people attacking someone. We take aim and shoot down the Croatoan infected. "Help me! Please! Help!" another voice calls out, which told us there were more people.

"There's still people here." I shout and Sam and I start to move further into the warehouse. "Kids, no!" Bobby yells and Sam turns to him. "Wait here." he said as he hands Bobby his knife and he and I run.

We were able to make it to a different part of the warehouse and found more Croatoan infected attacking an employee. We immediately kill them then check on the employee. "You okay?" Sam asked him and he nods then we take the employee to Bobby, who is holding off other Croatoan infected.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" Bobby shouts as we lead the employees out of the building and kill any Croatoan infected. "All clear." Sam said and I turn to him just as I see a Croatoan infected coming up behind him.

"Sam!" I shout as Sam is attacked by a Croatoan infected but, quickly, Castiel appears and shoots the infected with his shotgun. "Actually, these things can be useful." Castiel said as he looks at his gun.

"Can we commit our act of domestic terrorism already? Let's go." Bobby said and we nod and begin to plant the bomb.

*3rd Person POV*

"I'm still insulted that you came along." Crowley said to Ariel as they drive into Chicago, which seemed mostly deserted despite being a big city. "I don't trust you, Demon. Especially around my friend." Ariel said as she nods to Dean, who smiled to himself. "Aww, and the name calling? I'm heartbroken. Also, I didn't know Angels were so attached to humans?" Crowley said. "This Angel is." Ariel growls as she points to herself.

They get out of the Impala and started walking. "Hey, let's stop for pizza." Crowley said. "Are you kidding?" Dean asked. "Just heard it was good. That's all." Crowley replied and Ariel scoffs.

Then Crowley catches their arms, stopping the duo. "Up ahead. Big, ugly building. Ground zero. Horseman's stable, if you will. He's in there." He said, nodding to the building ahead. "How do you know?" Dean asked. "Have you met me? 'cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I'll be right back." Crowley said, disappearing.

Dean turns to Ariel, who was looking towards the building. "Is he telling the truth?" He asked her. "Surprisingly, yes." She replied.

"Boy, is my face red." A voice said and they turn around to see Crowley has reappeared, not even a second later. "Death's not in there." He said. "You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell us where he is?" Dean growled. "Sorry. I don't know." Crowley replied, turning around and walking away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You don't know?" Ariel asked, hurrying in front of the demon to stop him. "Signs pointed. I-I'm just as shocked as you." Crowley said, brushing pass her.

"Bobby sold his soul for this!" Dean exclaimed, Crowley stops and turns around to look at them. "Relax. All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city." He said. "Millions, Crowley. Millions of people are about to die any minute." Dean said. "True. So I strongly suggest we get out of here." Crowley said, walking back to the Impala.

"So, what? Call in a bomb threat? 1,000 bomb threats? I mean, how the hell are we supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?" Dean asked Crowley and Ariel as they walk down the streets and to the Impala. But then Ariel stops and looks across the street and disappears.

Dean turns around and sees she's gone. "Where's Ariel?" He asked and Crowley turns and see she's gone too. "Maybe Miss Goody-two-shoes decided to bail out. Like we should be doing." Crowley said but then Dean noticed Ariel was across the street, looking in a window of a pizzeria.

"What is she doing?" Dean asked but then she disappeared and reappeared in front of him. "If you actually got your head out of your ass, Demon, you would see that Death is in that pizza parlor." Ariel said at Crowley as she points at the pizzeria. "Well, excuse me, princess." Crowley sneered and they glare daggers at each other.

"Okay, then...good job, Ariel." Dean said and Ariel smiles and nods at him then they start to head to the pizza parlor. "You coming or..." Dean said as he turns around only see Crowley has disappeared. "...Not." Dean grumbled and Ariel scoffs. "Typical." She growls as they cross the street to the pizzeria.

"You sure you want to go in here? I mean, I know he's gotta terrify you..." Dean said and Ariel nods a bit. "He does but...." she said then she looks over at him. "I'm not leaving my friend behind." Ariel said and Dean gives her an appreciated smile then they get closer to the parlor and enter it, slowly and quietly.

Inside everyone was dead, except for a man who was seated at a table, eating. As Dean and Ariel approach Death, the scythe Dean was holding starts to heat up until it burned his hand. Dean drops his weapon and it reappears on the table Death is sitting at.

"Thanks for returning that. Join me, Dean and Ariel. The pizza's delicious." Death said, not turning around to look at them. Dean and Ariel exchange a look and slowly walk over to the table. "Sit down." Death said as he cuts off a piece of his pizza to eat it with a fork.

Dean takes a seat in front of Death and Ariel takes a seat on Dean's right. "Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to both of you." Death said. "I got to say...I have mixed feelings about that." Dean said. "S-so is this the part where...where you kill us?" Dean asked and finally Death looks up from his food at them.

"You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well...Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old. Very old. So I invite both of you to contemplate how insignificant I find the two of you." Death said then he places a couple of slices of pizza on the plates in front of Dean and Ariel.

"Eat." He ordered. Dean and Ariel look down at the pizza then glance at Death, who waits. Dean takes a bite his pizza while Ariel looked at it before taking a bite of her slice. She really didn't need to eat but she didn't want to anger Death. "Good, isn't it?" Death asked as he goes back to eating.

"Well, I got to ask. How old are you?" Dean asked. "As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless...at the end, I'll reap him, too." Death said. "God? You'll reap Father?" Ariel asked, stunned. "Oh, yes. Your Father will die, too, Ariel." Death replied as lighting flashes outside. "Well, this is way above my pay grade." Dean said. "Just a bit." Death said.

"So, then why are we still breathing, sitting here with you? What do you want?" Ariel asked. "The leash around my neck...off. Your brother, Lucifer, has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum." Death explained and Ariel nods.

"And you think...we can unbind you?" Dean asked. "There's your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun." Death said and he sets his fork and knife down. Then Death held up his hand that was wearing his ring.

"I understand you want this." He said. "Yeah." Dean said. "I'm inclined to give it to you." Death said. "To give it to us?" Ariel asked, suspicious. "That's what I said." Death said, simply.

"But what about..." Dean started to asked. "Chicago? I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza." Death said, taking his ring off. "There are conditions." He said. "Okay. Like?" Dean asked. "You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell." Death replied. "Of course." Dean and Ariel said. "Whatever it takes." Death said, firmly. "That's the plan." Dean said. "No. No plan. Not yet. Your brother. He's the one that can stop Lucifer. The only one." Death said. "What, you think..." Dean started to say but Death speaks over him.

"I know. So, I need a promise. Both of you are going to let Sam jump right into that fiery pit." Death said as Dean and Ariel stare at him, speechless. "Well, do I have your word?" He asked. Dean and Ariel exchange the look before they look back at Death in the eyes. "Okay, yeah. Yes." Dean said.

Death stares at him, then turns his head to look at Ariel, who nods. "That had better be yes, you two. You know you can't cheat death." Death said, before dropping his ring into Dean's hand. "Now, would you like the instruction manual?" Death asked.

Back at Bobby's, Dean sat outside in the scrapyard, looking at Death's ring. When he sets it down next to the other three rings lock together. Bobby kicks a box out of his way, getting Dean's attention. "Well, how'd it go at the Rockettes audition?" Dean asked him, smiling.

"Well, high kicks...fair. Boobs need work. I walked up and down stairs all night for no damn reason. I'm sore." Bobby said, laughing. "Feels so good, I'm scared it's a dream. But then I remember that the world's dying bloody, so, drink?" He said, handing Dean a beer.

"Check it out." Dean said and he shows Bobby how the rings link together, making the old man nearly spit up his beer. "Hmm. Oh. So Death told you and Ariel how to operate those? The whole deal?" He asked as he takes a seat across from Dean.

"Yeah. It's nuts. Of course, we got bigger problems now." Dean said. "Really? Like?" Bobby asked. "What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?" Dean asked. "Nothing good." Bobby replied, shrugging. "Yeah." Dean muttered.

"What'd you say?" Bobby asked. "That we were cool with Sam driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan." Dean said. "So Death thinks Sam ought to say yes, huh?" Bobby asked. "I don't know. Yeah." Dean replied and Bobby hums, thoughtful.

"But, I mean, of course he'd say that. He works for Lucifer." Dean said. "Against his will, I thought he said." Bobby said. "Well, I'd say, take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. I mean, he is Death." Dean said. "Exactly. He's Death. Think of the kind of bird's-eye view." Bobby argued.

"Seriously?" Dean asked. "I'm just saying." Bobby replied. "Well, don't. I mean, what happened to you being against this?" Dean asked. "Look, I'm not saying Sam ain't an ass-full of character defects. But..." Bobby started. "But what?" Dean asked.

"Back at Niveus? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. Must have saved 10 people. Never stopped. Never slowed down. (y/n) even helped him as much as she could. We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been. But in the meantime....He's been running into burning buildings since he was, what, twelve?" Bobby asked.

"Pretty much." Dean replied. "Look, Sam's got a...Darkness in him. I'm not saying he don't. But he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too." Bobby said. "I know." Dean muttered, looking down slightly.

"Then you know Sam will beat the devil...Or die trying. That's the best we could ask for. So I got to ask, Dean." Bobby said, leaning forward. "What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?" He asked and Dean doesn't answer.

“How about losing (y/n)?” Bobby asked and Dean fidgets a little at hearing this question. “If Sam’s plan goes south, Ariel will probably ask (y/n) to be her vessel, so she can take on Lucifer herself.” He said.

“You think she’ll say yes?” Bobby asked. “I know she will.” Dean replied. “So, what you’re really afraid of is losing both of them.” Bobby said questionably and Dean once again doesn’t answer, but his silence was enough.

“We gotta make a move soon, you’d better use what time we have left to clear the air and not live with any regrets.” Bobby said and Dean gives him a look. “(Y/n).” Bobby said and Dean looks down slightly. “I’m taking her out later.” He said.

“You know what you’re gonna say?” Bobby asked. “No, not really.” Dean replied and Bobby stares at him for a moment. “Before my wife…” He started to say, pausing in hesitation. Dean looks up at him, intrigued. “Before she was possessed, she and I…we got in a real nasty argument. I said somethings I wish I could take back and apologize for. But I never had that chance. You do. So don’t waste it.” Bobby said, sternly, and Dean nods.

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bearhugsandshrugs · 6 months

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Alright I don't know where to go with this but I had a thought ever since I saw that confession of Gortash and his cane. What if he had like a hidden mechanism inside the cane and when he popped the top off there was a nice big dildo that vibrated? He's a mechanical dude, I bet he already figured out how to make a vibrator, long ago.

And he uses his cane to fuck Tav, a bratty Tav, who challenges him in front of his guests? Could be post game when they're trying to work together or could be during the coronation (but tbh I think there are too many coronation fics out there) and he pulls her somewhere private because he doesn't want to undermine her authority but wants to teach her a lesson so he makes a whimpering mess of her until she begs him to let her come on his cock 🤤

Anyways, sharing your Gortash brain rot and appreciate you so much for feeding us content ❤️❤️ - C.

Ahem. So. I've written about him using the cane before (mind the tags it’s dark and non-con) so I'm not opposed to writing him using it again (consensually), because I'm into weird shit like that (I mean look at it.........)

(also CACKLING at the idea he invented vibrators, I know that's not what you said, but IMAGINE ahahaaha)

Since you’ve come off anon in the meantime and we’ve chatted a bit I just wanted to share that I've included the cane in Part 2 for The Pleasure of doing Business as we talked about!

THANK YOU FOR INSPIRING ME TO WRITE THIS it was so much fun and it continues to be one of my favorite fics across all of them

#enver gortash #my writing

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jasperjv · 4 months

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Schizophrenia. An illness that, by definition, challenges punitive justice and the determination toward accountability built up online.

Twomad was open about having schizophrenia. Toward the end he was talking to himself in other people's DMs, and this is the clearest symptom of psychosis, at a time in life it peaks (early 20's), and I can't emphasize it enough. Psychosis requires us to give benefit of the doubt and not take what they say, or even do, seriously. The brain processes real life as if it is in a dream or nightmare. It can occur from too high a dose of psychedelics. It used to be called early-onset dementia and has similar effects. I've seen progressives treat those conditions with patience and care. But that being given is so conditional; on how it occurs, and on how it presents.

Clearly the leftism of many of you is severely lacking. You don't really believe in rehabilitative justice, and you'd hate what criminal defense lawyers do, though everyone has a right to one.

I could unpack and give benefit of the doubt for almost everything Twomad did. Like a defense lawyer, I guess. I'd hurt myself psychologically doing that right now. But I at least want to address the Brianna Ghey incident and go from there.

As if I'd want him to die for being transphobic anyway. Speaking for us as a group so extremely like that makes us look bad. Please shut the Hell up.

Referencing something relevant to current events is not necessarily mocking in the context of psychosis. Now we have no idea how it was seen by him in that state. You need an example. When I was in psychosis, I typed "I met [fictional character] and he was BLACK. LAUGH NOW." This was my disorganized speech and thought flying purely off of word association. I had just met a doctor who I felt vaguely matched the occupation of the fictional character, and one thing I kept doing was calling people by the names of characters I associated them with. And in my mind, I was thinking, "if I phrase it this way, it's like the 'I met God, she was black' meme. Now it's in a meme format, how silly." I was chastised by chat and apologized, but lacked any ability to explain myself. It seems possible, and to me perhaps even likely, that this was only a relevant reference and not intended as mockery. He also apologized and deleted the tweet. I recovered, now I'm explaining myself. This is what you'll never get from Twomad now.

Possible starters toward understanding schizophrenia:

Vampire's Kiss (1988)

Yes, I'm serious. And this was meant to be a serious film. I think if Nic Cage hadn't put on that ridiculous accent, that would've been much more effective. It was triggering for me to watch for multiple reasons. Mainly, I felt exactly what it was like to feel compelled and forced to do horrible things harassing the public due to delusion, which was then misunderstood. Because, how CAN you make people understand? When they're in the real world and you're not? Content warning for sexual assault.

Andre Thomas, sentenced to death in Texas

youtube

People keep asking, "What's the point of pleading insanity, if not for cases like this?" The kicker is, it's solely defined as whether or not the person knows what they did is wrong, but it doesn't account for so much about what delusions are and how they work. What happens in delusions is, we get an idea about how to solve a problem, even in cases where we know collateral damage will occur, then it doesn't work, we feel sorry we had to do that, and then a different idea pops up in its place. Repeat indefinitely until treated. The system as it is has practically nothing in place to give grace to those struggling with what's called "consensus reality." And it is especially cruel and unforgiving to black people, but I 'm not going to deconstruct that here.

And no, don't come at me with "I have schizophrenia and I didn't do this-or-that." Oh good for you. But I have no cookie to give. Please know that type of statement is a logical fallacy.

It's understandable if you feel safer now that he's not around. And he's no longer in mental distress. Those both are the silver linings. All I'm saying is that it shouldn't have had to take him dying, and being completely gone forever, for the threat to neutralize. I'm saying it's a waste that he couldn't get help instead, and it's a waste he'll never be able to speak for himself again in case anyone ever needed it, it's a tragedy his parents have lost a son, and I'm disappointed. I. Am. Disappointed.

#editorial article #schizophrenia #psychosis #twomad #death #Youtube

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letsgivethisonemoreshot · 1 year

Text

Interrogation

So, the other night Sledge put an idea in my head that I did not want there. So I took the gang related dream I had and things we had talked about and wrote this as somewhat of a revenge. So you can thank @sldghmmr for whatever this is.

Summary: Continuation from my weird gang type dream where all the wrestlers were in their own separate gangs. Kate (who Sledge named) had information that the British Strong Style need.

Word Count: 4,050

Warnings: Non-Con/Consensual non-con elements Not Edited

Enjoy my vengeful brain.

Kate was kicking herself for the position she was currently in. It was Friday night and she was looking forward to a rare night off from her job responsibilities. Being able to go out with people she hadn’t seen in a while and fully enjoy herself without having to worry about anything work related being involved. This night was going to be for her. Earlier she put on her favorite sexy black dress and heels that she wasn’t normally able to wear. She added a bunch of yellow into her eyeshadow while doing her make-up, giving her face a pop of her favorite color. Hair carelessly down, able to blow in the breeze. She was more than ready to go out and hit a few bars, have some drinks, and dance stress away. She just needed to make one quick stop on the way for a pack of cigarettes. Normally Kate didn’t smoke, but when she drank a lot and everyone else around her was, she enjoyed it. And she planned on letting loose tonight.

She knew she had stepped out of neutral territory, but she had gone to this corner convenience shop so many times before and never had a problem, she didn’t think anything of running in real quick. Especially since it was just down the street from the first bar where she was meeting up with people. She was always aware of her surroundings. A quick in, hello, and out and she’d be on the town. However tonight she had been thinking a little too much about what she was going to do instead of what was around her. She barely made it off of the corner before she was grabbed, dropping her cigarettes into the street before she could get them into her black clutch. Now she was in the basement of one of BSS’s clubs, handcuffed to some iron bar above her head that was drilled into the stone wall. Most people in her position would be terrified. Begging and trying to bargain with their captors. But Kate was too busy being mad at herself for not paying attention and seeing them coming. She couldn’t say she was afraid either having dealt with these men before on a number of occasions. She was familiar with them. Especially the one with the snarly smirk.

“What’s the matter love? Ain’t ya happy to see me?”

“I’d be happier if your throat was slit,” Kate spat.

“You don’t mean that love,” Pete smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Its what you’d deserve.”

“I take it ya don’t forgive me for leavin’ yet huh?” He taunted as he stepped closer to her.

“As soon as someone lets me out of these,” Kate began as she pulled on the handcuffs causing a clanking sound to echo in the basement,” I’m going to break your legs.”

“Speaking of legs, ya might want to keep an eye on Tyler. He’s been staring at yours all night.”

Kate looked over Pete’s shoulder to where Tyler was standing across the room. His gaze was fixed on her licking his lips. Suddenly Kate became very aware of how high on her thighs her already short dress was riding up. She shuffled her legs uncomfortably knowing there was no way to shield them. She didn’t care that she was in a dingy damp basement. It hadn’t been the first time, though usually the ones she was in belonged to people she was more friendly with. She didn’t even care that she was handcuffed. Honestly, if she left her alone for a few minutes she could probably figure out how to get out of them. But she’d be damned if she was going to stand here and involuntarily be eye candy entertainment for these bastards.

“I know he’s been thinking about ‘em ever since we searched you earlier.”

Kate forced her normal response of curse words and threats deep down inside her. She wouldn’t let herself feed into their cocky egos. She knew Pete was having too much fun with this to begin with. Not too many people could come eye to eye with the Bruiserweight who was knock to break bones easily to get information, let alone mouth off to him like Kate was doing. She decided to pretend like whatever they were saying had no effect on her instead.

“Can I have my underwear back from that by the way?” Kate asked nonchalantly.

“Nah. Could be hiding a recording device in there or somethin’.”

“Oh right, because I planned this visit.”

“Besides, we’ve already discussed sending them to Sheamus.”

Kate laughed in his face. “Go for it. You know he would kill you.”

Pete shrugged. “He already wants to. We could just let Tyler keep them.”

Kate could see the black lace hanging out of the pocket of Tylers jeans. At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if he took them out and started playing with them.

“I’m not quite sure he has the ass to fill them out but hey, who am I to judge?”

Tyler chuckled. “She is a feisty one.”

“Warned ya.”

They all got silent as they heard the door to the basement open and close, followed by heavy footsteps. Kate watched the stairs until Trent appeared looking as polished as always.

“Sorry to keep you waiting love. Had to take care of a bit of business upstairs. I hope you two haven’t been harassing our guest too much.”

Pete grabbed a handful of Kate’s hair and yanked her head back, making her hiss in pain before letting go. “Only when necessary.”

“Oh of course. Don’t stop playing with yourself while gawking at the poor girls upstairs on my account. It’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

“Kate you know I keep my best girls over at mountains. Just some bar tenders and dealers up there. They’re only good if you’re desperate. Though if you wanted, I could send you over there. You certainly have the assets for it and I could take real good care of you.”

“I would rather be dead.”

Trent smiled at her response. Amusement covered his face and Kate could clearly see the little gap he had in his front teeth. She had seen that smile a few times before. It usually came before something vile happened. Trent Seven may look like a handsome well off gentleman. His hair neatly tied back, beard nicely groomed. A velvet navy blue blazer over his expensive black button down dress shirt, but he was as despicable as they come. He comes up with ideas, gives orders, but is more than willing to get his own hands dirty if need be. That smile made Kate realize that she was helpless at his mercy and it made her stomach drop.

“You know I’m sure Pete felt that way at one time too. But now he’s more than happy with me.”

“That’s because Pete is a spineless pussy who is easily persuaded and can’t make his own decisions.”

Pete faked being hurt by her comments while Tyler laughed.

“Don’t be upset at him because he realized how selfish and conniving Sheamus, using people like you and Pete to do all the dangerous shit he was too afraid to do.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’re a selfless angel.”

“Pete seems pretty happy with me. So happy he thinks he can convince Ridge to come over next.”

That sent a wave of anger through her. It was bad enough that Pete had turned on them and abandoned them. After all the late night talks they had together while everyone else was asleep. The jokes they would make while steaking out places together. Their drunken confessions. But to try and take Ridge from her. She’d want to strangle them all herself if any of them laid a hand on him.

“What do you want Trent?”

“I need some information.”

“Why don’t you ask your new best friend?”

“Already have. He was very helpful. Unfortunately he isn’t privy to some of the information I need. But you love, are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know Sheamus is planning something to try and take me down in a few weeks. However, it wasn’t decided exactly when when Pete left. So if I had a finalized date, that would much better help me prepare. I also need to know who he’s been talking to because I know he isn’t going to do this alone. He’s too much of a coward.”

“I’m not sure why you think I would know who he talks to.”

“Because we all know you’re his little secretary and take care of everything for him. You either have the information or you know where it is,” Pete answered.

“We also tried to get into your weapons shed the other night, but were unable to. Looks like Sheamus might have changed the locks on everything.”

Kate looked over at Pete in somewhat disbelief. They had a little shack on the beach, disguised as an old mostly out of use lifeguard shed. Everyone just assumed it kept old buoys and expired sunscreen. But it’s where they kept a lot of extra weapons and supplies for easy access if something happened when they were out. Even though Pete betrayed them by leaving, some part of her was slightly surprised that he shared that information and locations.

“Everyone had access to that building. And everyone had access for all the passcodes to the house. They were all changed, but that means you have it.”

“Shows what you know. No one has anything anymore thanks to you. He doesn’t trust anyone with shit now,” Kate said harshly towards Pete.

“You’re lying. You know I can tell,” Pete said with a smile.

“Believe me or not. I really don’t give a shit what a backstabbing rat like you thinks,” Kate seethed as she pulled on the cuffs.

Kate’s anger was finally coming out, and was met with a harsh slap to the face by Trent. She wasn’t expecting it and was slightly in shock as she stood there silently. Her hair covering parts of her stinging face, blocking the amused looks by Tyler and Pete. Slightly worried at all of the feelings she had rushing through her body.

“I gave you a pass before, but you don’t speak to any of my men like that when you’re in my establishments. You got that?”

Kate raised her head and shook the hair out of her face. “Go fuck yourself.”

Trent’s smile faded and his eyes shifted to a dark grey. Just as swiftly as he had smacked her, his large hand shot out and wrapped itself easily around her throat, pushing her back against the wall. She gasped for a moment, trying to gather herself from what was happening.

“You told me not to speak to your men like that. You didn’t say anything about you,” Kate said with a smile, proud that even in the position she was in she managed to outsmart Trent. In front of said men no less.

“Oh you’re gonna have fun with this one boys,” Trent chuckled as his fingers stull held her neck. “Tyler, you’ve still got her purse? First check through it. Make copies of any keys you find. Then go through her phone. Pull out anything that looks important. Once you’re done that, feel free to help over here. Pete.”

Pete walked back over in front of Kate to stand next to his new boss. He pushed his long hair out of his face revealing a cocky smile seemingly permanently plastered onto it. Kate hadn’t seen him with his hair down much. Usually it was tied up during meetings and “errands” they did throughout the day. It was only late at night after a few drinks he ever really let it down and seemed to be himself. Here he seemed so much more relaxed and at ease, while equally as tough as before.

“Peter, you’ve never really be able to get, close to Kate, correct?” Trent asked with several pauses to imply a different meaning.

“Yup. Sheamus made sure no one touched his precious little protégé.”

“Well today’s your lucky day. Here’s your chance,” Trent roughly released the hold on Kate’s throat and turned to go back up the stairs. “You know what I need. I’m confident you two have this under control.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” She said once the door closed.

“Aw come on Katie. Don’t be so cold.”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” She spat at him.

“I don’t know why you’re being so resistant. You could just tell me what we need to know, and stay here with us. Join Trent. It’s much better than over there.”

“And just abandon Ridge like you did.”

“Ridge is your bodyguard. Not mine.”

“Sounds like someone is just jealous of our relationship.”

“Jealous, no. Just confused. I don’t understand what kind of hold Sheamus has on you.”

“Sheamus saved me. My family abandoned me when I was thirteen and he took me in when no one else would. He’s always been there.”

“Yeah, and then he exploited you for his own gain. You’re an adult now. You can leave him and go make a better life for yourself. One he can’t give you.”

“You might be a selfish asshole but I’m not turning my back on the only person that’s ever taken care of me.”

Kate stared him down while Tyler walked over to them while holding her phone. He grabbed his hand so he was able to get her fingerprint to unlock it.

“I wish everything could be that easy,”

“Put it down or I swear I will personally rip your balls off once Sheamus and Ridge are done with you.”

“She’s got a dirty mouth,” Tyler smirked as he walked back to another corner of the basement to hook the phone up to his laptop.

“You have no idea,” Pete replied as he grabbed her face. “I’ve heard worse stuff out of her than I have from Ridge when he’s drunk.”

“You’re wasting your time Peter. I’m not telling you anything.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter stated confidently as his voice dropped.

His hand rested on her cheek, thumb tracing her bottom lip. Much more softly than how he had grabbed her. His slow movements along with the deeper voice were effecting her in ways that she really couldn’t be bothered to deal with right now. And that’s when everything clicked. She had shared a lot with Pete during the time they spent together. They bonded, or so she had thought. But earlier, the way he had pulled on her hair, he wasn’t just doing it to be a jerk. The way Trent slapped and choked her, he did it because Pete suggested it. The comments he kept making about Tyler watching her. The whole time she was with them he spent trying to get her worked up so she’d be ready for what they were going to do to her.

“I know what you’re doing Peter. It’s not gonna work.”

“Oh yeah?”

Pete’s other hand slipped under her dress and between her legs. Kate gasped slightly as his fingers slid through her folds. He seemed proud of himself for how wet she already was. Unfortunately for Kate, she wasn’t able to hide the fact that she was turned on, but she was well prepared for the unique kind of torture he was about to administer. She knew the mental dilemmas it was supposed to make her face. She knew what it was going to do to her physically. He was going to edge her until she begged. Play with her until she told him what they wanted to know. But that wasn’t going to happen. Kate could handle herself. And she was confident she could handle Pete. If she started to get desperate enough she could easily and believably lie giving them false information. She had seen this enough times to know how it worked, and at what point they would start to believe you. And by the time they realized it was no good, it would be too late. And that was their problem to deal with.

“Are you forgetting that I’m the one that used to give you tips on what to do to girls for this?” Kate reminded him before her eyes involuntarily fluttered shit as his fingers grazed over her clit.

Pete chuckled and used his knee to kick her legs a little farther apart. “Just shut the fuck up Katie and lets finally have some fun.”

Kate knew what to expect from Pete. Even though they had never been intimate before, she had seen him do this several times and knew his plan during it. Not to mention the countless times she’s heard him with his random hook-ups. So she was able to mentally plan for his next moves and control her reactions for the most part. But she didn’t expect his violent destructive fingers to feel so good as they circled over her clit. When Kate did open her eyes, she saw the faces he was making. She had never told him or anyone else, but she always found his angry snarl incredibly sexy. And there had been several times she got distracted while looking into his eyes. Seeing him bite his bottom lip while staring at her almost made her drop her guard completely. She had to remind herself the situation she was in and force herself to not move her hips into his touch. She knew that she should have more fight in her, but it had been a long time since she had been with anyone other than herself, she enjoyed it for a bit. She told herself it was okay as long as she didn’t give in to what they wanted. The electricity from his touch was flowing through her whole body. It didn’t take long for her breath to hitch and she started feeling that familiar sensation in her lower belly. She prepared herself for Pete to pull away, but he didn’t. He kept the steady motion and she came as her eyes slightly rolled back into her head. Pete either got caught up in the moment or misjudged her body cues. Either way she wasn’t complaining that he messed up. At least not yet.

His fingers continued playing with her clit, drawing out her pleasure. When her eyes opened again, he was still staring at her. He didn’t have the face of someone who just made a mistake or was worried. He actually still looked cocky. It wasn’t until the pleasure started to become too much and began feeling uncomfortable that she realized why. She tried to close her legs but Pete made sure to keep them open. She bit her lip to keep in the whimper that was trying to escape. It was already becoming too much but then Pete increased the speed and pressure of his fingers, teetering Kate on the line of pain and pleasure. It shortly switched to intense pleasure and she came again harder than before squirting all over his hand. Pete licked his lips as he leaned in closer to her.

“I always knew I’d be able to get you to make a mess if we got together,” He whispered before shoving two fingers inside of her making her gasp.

Kate wasn’t sure how much time had gone by before the door to the basement opened again. It had felt like hours even though she knew it hadn’t been. When Trent got to the bottom of the stairs he seemed pretty pleased with the sight before him. Her face was stained in tears, smearing her make up and causing it to run down her face. Her fists clenched and slightly reddened, nearly bruising from how she had been pulling on the cuffs. The top of her dress was still in tact, though her nipples were easily visible, almost poking through. The material scraping against them painful at this point rather than pleasurable. The skirt of her dress was hiked up around her hips as Pete was on his knees on the floor in front of her. Her one leg over his shoulder, fingers spreading apart her lips so he could suck on her clit bringing her closer to another painful orgasm. Hips pushed against the wall to steady her squirming. The yelps and cries falling from her mouth were music to his ears.

“Key copies are on the table over there boss,” Tyler greeted.

Trent nodded to him. “Did we get anything?”

“Second weekend in September is when they’re planning the ambush,” Tyler answered.

Trent made a face of approval. “Good. Did we get any names?”

“She mentioned Drew.”

“Of course she did. Drew and Sheamus have always been close I expected him. I was hoping for specific names from his crew.”

Trent and Tyler carrying on their conversation as if they were alone and Pete wasn’t right there lapping at her core while tears streamed down her face made Kate feel like even less of a person than she already had.

“I did find some things on her phone though about Gunther. Texts about trying to get a meeting with him, and some info about his group.”

“Ah, so he’s trying to wiggle his way into Gunther for support. That would take a lot of work. But now we can get to him first,” Trent commented as he rubbed his beard. “Good work. Any passcode information yet?”

“Still claims she doesn’t know ‘em.”

Trent nodded before turning around and placing his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “Pete’s been at this a while. What do you say we give him a break.”

Kate nodded eagerly as Pete leaned back wiping the wetness off his chin. Trent took a hold of her thigh that was on his shoulder while he sat back on a chair nearby crossing his arms. Trent stepped a bit closer to talk to Kate while he reached into the pocket of his blazer. Kate tried to take a much needed breath as a buzzing sound filled her ears. The powerful vibrator Trent was hiding in his pocket connected with her overly sensitive pussy caused her to throw her head back and scream. She tried to pull away from him, but he held her tightly.

“Not for you love. Not until you give me what I need.”

“I, I don’t, know anything. Please!” Kate cried.

“She’s lyin’,” Pete stated.

“No!”

“Yeah she is. Katie, you know I can tell when ya lie.”

“Fuck!” Kate yelled trying to move away from the vibrator.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Trent told her. “Tyler, are you ready for her?”

“Yeah I got a nice set up for her,” Tyler replied as he walked over to where they were gathered.

“Good,” Trent smirked as he slid the vibrator inside of her.

“Trent, please,” Kate begged.

“Do whatever you have to do to get it out of her.”

The look on Tyler’s face made Kate wish she had fought harder and ran away. There were times if anyone saw him on the street, he could look sweet and peaceful. But the way he was looking at her right now was sinister. Like she was prey he was finally able to get his hands on. He caressed her face lightly before trailing his fingers down her neck and to her breasts, using his nails to scratch over her nipple. Earlier she would have loved for someone to pay attention to them, but now it made her wince in pain. His hand traveled lower, pushing the still buzzing vibrator deeper inside her before playing with her clit. His fingers moved so soft and gentle it sent shivers through her body. Slow as if he wanted to make it not hurt anymore, wanted to make her enjoy it. Making her even more furious at herself. Using his free hand he took out the handcuff keys and dangled them from his finger while still playing with Kate with the other. Making her moan through her breaths.

“You know what? I don’t give a shit if you talk or not. The longer you hold back, the longer I get to play with you.”

#pete dunne #trent seven #tyler bate #moustache mountain #british strong style #pete dunne fic #trent seven fic #tyler bate fic #pete dunne fanfiction #trent seven fanfiction #tyler bate fanfiction

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zeldaelmo · 1 year

Text

The Pen Pal Plan, chapter 5

Link was relatively calm, but she still hated to see him threatened like this. "He's done nothing wrong!" Zelda choked out, finally finding her voice again.

The guard with the black eye, Avon, if her brain didn't let her down, scrutinized them, one-eyed gaze hopping from one to the other. "Well, all I can see is that he's drinking on duty and has been caught in quite a compromising situation with Hyrule's princess after abducting her from her other guards."

Link went pale beside her, hands sinking, but lifting them promptly again when he suddenly had a spear in his face.

"Please!" Zelda hissed and nervously glanced at the other guests of the tavern. They were slowly but surely making a scene. "Link is the last suitor I intended to meet." She pointed at the paper flowers. "Look, here's the Silent Princess we agreed on to identify ourselves. We only drank one glass of wine and he's been the perfect gentleman the whole evening." She blushed but held his gaze. "Everything between us has happened consensually. There — there hasn't been a single moment where I was in danger."

Boots scraped over the floor, the guards stepping back. Avon cleared his throat. "Well then, I apologize for the interruption. We'll take our posts, Your Highness. Just continue as if we weren't here."

Link and Zelda exchanged a look and burst into a fit of laughter, nourished half from relief and half from the ridiculousness of the idea. They were surely not starting to make out with a bunch of guards standing around them!

"Thank you, Sir, but we'd prefer if you accompany us back to the castle," Zelda explained. "It's been a long day for all of us."

Avon bowed. "Whatever you order, Princess."

Zelda nodded and under the gazes of the other tavern occupants, they slipped into their hoods again and went outside.

The sun had long set and they had to rely on the torches Avon and his men had organized. Words were sparse on their way through Castle Town's alleys – the guards were busy keeping an eye out for a potential threat among the straying festival goers and Link and Zelda walked quietly next to each other, too.

Zelda didn't know where to put her hands. She fiddled with the brooch of the hood, crumpled the hem of it, and wiped her palms on her pants. Everything had changed since the guards showed up and she couldn't tell anymore what would be appropriate. They had nearly kissed. Would Link still want to do that? Maybe the reaction of his fellow guards had changed his mind, he had nearly been thrown into the dungeons if not for her word…

"Zelda?" A chuckle, next to her. "Are you nervous? Your hands are uneasy. Are you afraid your parents won't approve?"

"What? No, no, they'll accept my decision. And if my father trusts you already, he'll be very pleased."

He smiled, firelight from the torches flickering over his face. "Okay. Maybe you just need someone to calm your nerves."

Zelda hummed quietly, shoulders dropping when he took her hand in his. Yes. She needed him to calm her. "Thank you," she murmured.

"I guess we need to get used to the situation with the guards, anyway," he whispered back.

"Probably, yes.” She leaned closer, whispering in his ear. "But I'm not going to get my first kiss from you in front of them."

"Nope." He popped the 'p', promptly drawing attention to him. Waiting until the guards had turned back to the road, Link murmured, "Okay, but how are we going to do this? I–I would really like to kiss you tonight."

“Oh, that's no problem at all. They'll leave me to my business as soon as we're in the safety of the castle walls.”

Link frowned. "Really? Your father has two guards with him for every step he takes."

Zelda giggled and tugged him closer with her hand. "That's only because Mama pranked him one time too many."

"No way!" Link stared at her with his mouth open.

"Yes!"

They continued their walk, leaving the hectic mingling of music and people of the festival behind them. The cold air of the winter evening was clear and the frozen landscape between the town and castle humbled them into silence. At the gates, however, the rhythmic clanking of boots halted, and inside, it was as Zelda had predicted. The guards announced their goodbye, leaving them on their own.

Now, it was Link fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.

"Would you mind accompanying me to my room?" Zelda asked, giving his hand a squeeze. "We can go the way over the castle grounds so that not everyone stares at you."

"I'd love to."

She guided him the long way around the arcades and alleys. Did he think about what this evening meant for his life, too? It must be ten times more life-changing for him.

Zelda had wanted a suitor, skies, she had prepared a whole year for finding one, but the reality still felt strange. Not in a bad way, far from it! She already knew she was crushing hard for Link's simple words, his cute smile, and his easy politeness. Maybe it was relief disguised as nervousness.

Without gathering too much attention, they entered her wing from the far-east side and were nearing her door. Her shoes seemed to have turned into iron boots and Link wasn't faring any better next to her.

"Sorry," he squealed and released her hand that he had squeezed a little too tight. A little frown appeared on his face and he looked around, searching. "Where are the guards?"

"Hm? Oh, they're only here when I'm in my room."

"Your father…"

Zelda grinned, pulling him closer to her door. "My mother hid a mouse under his blanket once."

"She seems like fun to be around."

"Oh, she is. But she won't spare you."

They smiled at each other bashfully, running out of topics for small talk.

"So, um, it was a really nice evening." Zelda shifted her feet nervously, promptly hitting the door. "And I, ah, enjoyed our pen pal ship a lot."

"Yes. Me too. A lot, I enjoyed it a lot, too, I mean."

"I wouldn't mind if we meet in person more often, though. I mean, you still can write if you want, that's not it."

"Zelda?" He breathed, eyes searching hers, fingers flexing at his side. "M-may I kiss you?"

Her words wouldn’t come out, every thought consumed by the tenderness with which his hand came up to her face and pushed the hood she was still wearing down, so she just nodded.

He stepped closer, both hands cupping her face. He was cold everywhere where he touched her, but she couldn't care less. His lips hovered over hers, breath stroking over chilled skin. Lashes fluttering shut, he still waited, proving himself the gentleman she trusted him to be.

"Kiss me, please," she muttered against his lips, half fulfilling her plea herself.

His lips were warmer than the rest of him, soft and firm at the same time. She sighed into the kiss, erasing his nervousness. His hands grew more sure and in a whisk of possessiveness, she grabbed his hood and pulled him against her. They stumbled against the door, but Link kept the rhythm steady, opening up to her. She didn’t hesitate to follow. This was all she ever wanted, Link was all she ever wanted. Someone to talk the night away with (and yes, kissing), someone who balanced her overthinking out, someone who teased her. Someone to be Zelda with.

They broke apart and she rested her forehead against his, both hands holding his face and unwilling to let him go just yet. His eyes mirrored the fond expression her gaze held for him and he smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” She smiled back. “And the day after tomorrow and every day after that.”

“Sounds like a plan. I- I hate to say this, but I’m back on duty tomorrow… and your day has been long, too. So…”

“It’s okay, Link. I’m tired, too.” She cupped his cheek for a last time and leaned in for another kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

She resisted the urge to look after him as he descended the stairs with light feet and went through her door with a dreamy smile defining her face. What a day. First the creepy weirdo, then the incident with the carousel, and oh! She had completely forgotten about the boring poet. Giggling, she slipped out of her shoes. Serves him right! To communicate solely in verses, how odd and off-putting.

“Good evening, little bird.”

Zelda shrieked, whirling around, her hands shooting to her chest. “Mama! Goddess, you gave me a heart attack.” Catching her breath, she went over to the armchair where her mother had curled up and was reading a book in front of the fireplace.

“Oh, I apologize, I thought you’ll notice the lanterns but I guess you were too absorbed in your thoughts.” She yawned and put the book aside. “I was too curious about how your plan would play out. I assume that you’re so late is a good sign? And the thud on the door?”

Zelda shrugged out of her hood and put it away, drawing closer to the fireplace. She was still cold, especially her feet. “Yes. I’m happy to give you a detailed report tomorrow since literally everything went wrong, but I still managed to make my decision.”

Her mother laughed. “You managed to make your decision? Come on, give me a little more. Is it the last one who wrote the adorable letters?”

Zelda nodded. “Yes, his name is Link and he— wait. Do you hear that?”

Someone played a tune on a flute or something similar… no! An ocarina!

Not a second later, Zelda was on her balcony, shivering in her blouse.

Link stood at the foot of her wing, a small ocarina raised to his lips and playing a familiar song. The pale moon illuminated him, making his blond hair shine like pure silver.

Wait, was that… yes! He played her lullaby. Tears shimmering in her eyes, she waved her hand in greeting. The last note rang through the air and he smiled, pressing a kiss to his fingers and lifting them to her. Then, he disappeared into the night.

Zelda lingered, sighing contently, but her mother pulled her back in and gave her a cardigan. “Oh, how cute! He’s a guard, right? I recognize him. That explains why he didn’t disclose his profession.”

“Hmhm.” Zelda wasn’t able to do much more than hum, her emotions leaving her still in trance.

Her mother chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug, roaming her hands over Zelda’s frame. “Guess we have a wedding to organize, huh?”

Zelda nodded into her chest, the pleasant warmth and the scent of her mother’s safe arms forcing her eyelids to waver. “Not today, okay? Give us a little time.”

“All the time in the world, my little bird,” her mother said and pressed a kiss onto her hair. “All the time in the world.”

#zelink #legend of zelda #advent calendar #Day 20 #zeldaelmo writes #the pen pal plan

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misscammiedawn · 2 years

Text

Hypno Asks Answered 4/5

30. What’s your favourite audio file/audio file producer?

I am not going to answer anything other than my Goddess, Lady Ru'etha. Bias down to the core of me.

I suppose I can also shout out Secret Subject as she and I have collabed in the past.

31. What’s your favourite book/movie/TV show that includes hypnosis?

Oh bloody hell this is SUCH an unfair question. I have such specific memories attached to them. Maybe send asks with the following prompts:

Phantom of the Opera Incredibles 2 Super Hero Girls Sailor Moon

There could be more, but those are the ones that popped off at the top of my head.

32. Describe your biggest fantasy involving hypnosis?

It's a two way tie between a stage hypnotist/magician summoning me from the audience and turning me into their lovely assistant, complete with a beautiful sequined outfit and flying and having the person next to me take interest in me enough to want to brainwash me for the duration of the flight.

Both fantasies, mind. I doubt I would enjoy either happening in reality based contexts. But I could enjoy the bliss of the idea.

33. Do you have any fantasies about non-consensual hypnosis? Describe them

I mean the above two? If we're talking about "in reality" like "if I met this celebrity, I'd love to--" then no. I do not enjoy those thoughts at all.

34. What’s one fictional character you’ve fantasised about hypnotising/being hypnotised by?

It says a lot about my personality that my favorite ways of dealing with that kind of fantasy is to BE the fictional character, in which Poison Ivy is my favorite to go to (and one I've indulged in before) and Goddess wants me to do more Daphne Blake cosplay for that reason.

But I suppose I could always capture Harley Quinn, Wonder Woman or Captain Marvel… Grins knowingly

35. Do you like intelligence loss/bimbofication hypnosis? Why?

Not really my thing? I DO enjoy being fractionated into a silly puddle though, so I guess if that counts then it's the end goal of many of my scenes! Cammie is an absolute silly ball of fluff who spews out words without letting them cross reference the brain. I have been told she has said some really dumb things in the height of fractionation, including that vanilla people should be put in coffee.

I need my partners to keep a "shit Cammie says" list.

36. Do you like amnesia play? Why?

I do indeed on both sides of the watch. There's something so hot about the focus and intention of obedience fading all of a sudden with a look of confusion. There's so much to enjoy about that deep curiosity of "what did I do?!" there's always such playful giddiness when the shenanigans are in effect and all the more when the spell wears off and the hypnotee is allowed to RECALL. Yes. I like those moments oh so much.

For a specific memory of not remembering I go back to Beguiled 2022. My crush-turned-girlfriend knew so much that I enjoyed summoning triggers so added an amnesia reply. When she beckons I am compelled to come to her and then forget everything. I would be sitting and then I would be at her side and as the amnesia took hold I would even forget that I had blipped at all.

But I knew I had a trigger I didn't know about.

And I could tell Oikos members about it, but would forget every time I finished talking.

And so I went through the weekend summoned again and again and I told Oikos, especially Puppet who I was rooming with, about this spell no less than 5 times.

…the spell was bound to the return journey after the convention. When I got my recollection I was in the middle of typing to Her. She knew exactly what had happened and gave such a loving and snarky reply.

My heart skipped.

Amnesia is the best.

37. Do you like freeze triggers? Why?

I shall simply reply like this - the Kiss Your Miss story is based not just on real events, but on one of my favorite triggers which I adore abusing. https://www.tumblr.com/misscammiedawn/689670104313626624/kiss-your-miss-a-quick-little-scene-between-a

38. Do you like pleasure triggers? Why?

They're not my thing, sadly. I am tempted to learn to build them for my partners because I love them and I love watching them squirm, but I imagine they have other partners who are keyed in to that experience that would compliment their needs better. I simply do not enjoy receiving them. Cammie becomes immensely uncomfortable when things get too erotic.

39. Do you like alternate personalities created through hypnosis? Why?

Oh god…

For 15 years that was all my brain was used for on a near daily basis. Old partners who are no longer in my life enjoyed my flexibility and ability to BECOME the characters we roleplayed. Particularly allosexual heterosexual men.

I don't want to type more about this. Throw me an ask if you want a specific topic on it. I've been clean for 3 years now and I've got worries about how this has impacted my psyche.

#ask meme #hypno asks

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marvelcriminalhoe · 2 years

Text

His Sinful Devotion Part 2

Older! Dark! Church guy! Steve Rogers x Innocent! Naive! Preachers daughter! Reader

Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20 Steve is late 30s early 40s), Dark, manipulation, dub con, blow job, daddy kink, face fucking, chocking, deep throating, tears, filming un-consensually, Steve is hardcore manipulative (I’m serious), reader is hardcore innocent, talks of god, groping, innocent kink (is that a thing???), praise kink. this all happens in the church. 18+ ONLY I think that’s all? Idk let me know if I’m missing something. (Also, I'm not kidding with the innocent thing. Girl doesn't have a clue about ANYTHING)

AN: Okay... I just want to say this one seems WAY more dark than the first one... But I couldn't help myself okay? Church Guy Steve just makes bad things pop into my brain...

word count: 2,566

mood board and border created by me

Masterlist

The memory of the storage room has helped Steve during his morning showers. Kept him company during his late nights. But god, does he want more of you. Since feeling your body against his two weeks ago, he’s felt himself slowly start to lose all ounce of control he has left. He wants more. He needs more.

So when the chance arises for him, he doesn't waste it.

Your father asked him to teach one of the adult bible study classes this quarter, something Steve has done countless of times throughout the years for the church. Steve agreed readily, saying he already had some ideas for some classes, which your father accepted with a firm handshakes and a sincere thank you.

Steve immediately went to you, asking if you would be his assistant, help him with set up and breakdown for the class. Of course, that was his main idea, getting more alone time with you. His other ideas revolving around you too, but much more sinful in nature than just quality time. You, being the good little church girl you are, says yes with a big smile on your face, telling Steve you would love to help him with whatever he needs.

He knew you would say that, and he intends to take you up on that offer entirely.

Thursday nights are class nights,and this will be the first night he gets you alone. In the past when he would teach a class, he would get there about 15 minutes early to prepare, like most of the other teachers. Tonight though, he asked you to meet him an hour before classes, giving him 45 minutes alone with you.

Plenty of time to get what he wants. Plenty of time to bring you even closer to him.

He arrives before you, placing his things down and setting up the chairs. When you show up, he smiles at you, greeting you kindly with a hug and a quick kiss to your lips, something he’s been doing since that night in the storage room whenever he has the chance, “How are you today?” “I’m good Mr.R— Steve.” You smile back, moving to set your stuff down behind the desk.

You still struggle sometimes to not call him Mr.Rogers, but you are working on it, and Steve knows it’s only because he makes you nervous. But you’re such a good girl, trying your hardest to do better.

“Why don’t you write some of these points on the board for me?” He hands you the paper he was going off of. You gladly take it, wanting to help out wherever you can. It doesn't take long, maybe 5 minutes total.

“Is there something else I can do?” You ask him sweetly.

Steve pretends to think, before nodding, “Could I run some of the lesson by you? I’m a bit nervous.” You nod, sitting down in one of the seats, “Sure!” Steve starts off with some of his actual lesson, feigning nervousness and adding in some stutters and stumbling to play up his fake nerves. He frowns, “I’m sorry, gosh, this is going to go so bad.” “No, no, you’re doing great.” You try to reassure him, but he doesn't stop his little act.

Running his hand down his face, “I just, I need to release some of this stress so I’m not so tense. I just— I don't know.” You tilt your head at him, “What?” “Could you help me?” He walks over to where you are sitting, looking down at you with his best puppy dog eyes, dropping his voice lower as he reaches out with one hand to caress your cheek, “I could really use you’re help, Angel.” “Of course I’ll help you Steve! What can I do?” And Steve stops himself from smirking, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

“You’re such a sweet girl.” He compliments you, enjoying the flustered state his words bring you, as he continues to caress your cheek, trailing his knuckles over your jawline and down your neck, “You sure you wanna help me destress?” “Absolutely! Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

Steve does smirk at that answer, “That’s exactly what you’re here for.”

He lets go of your face, slowly unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans down. Your eyes go wide at the sight of him in only his boxers, and he knows you don’t understand, not really. He highly doubts you know about anything sexual. Especially after the storage room incident. Your parents love to keep you sheltered, not even sending you to the public school with the other kids when you were younger. No, you’ve spent your whole life in church, and Steve knows you probably don’t even know what sex is, only ever hearing it in passing.

He’s going to use all of this to his advantage. Use all of this to make you completely his. It’s what he deserves. His own little angel to have all to himself. To mold you into exactly what he needs.

“Um—Steve—“ You stutter.

Steve smiles at you sweetly, “You said you’d help me, and this is the easiest way to do that.” You frown at him in confusion, and Steves smile drops, making him raise a stern brow at you, “You do trust me, don’t you?” You blink at his sternness before nodding truthfully, making him smile again, “Good. Then just do exactly as I say, and you’ll help me a whole lot.” Without anymore hesitation, you agree, looking to him with determined eyes and a sheepish smile. You really do want to help him. Your dad had told you before you left to do everything Steve says, so who are you to disobey the orders of your father, the preacher of your church, and Steve, one of the churches most trusted leaders.

“Good girl.” Steve praises you. He slowly reaches in and grabs his already hard cock, red and angry, leaking pre-cum from the tip. He’s been hard since you walked in wearing that short, red babydoll dress. Hair the same as always, pulled half back with a matching bow. Having you sitting in the chair, perfect height for his plans, looking up at him with your bright eyes, he’s surprised he hasn't forced his cock down your throat yet.

But he knows he has to take this slow, and he can see some fear on your face about what might be happening, even if you aren't saying anything.

“Give me your hand.” He orders softly.

You place your hand in his and watch as he brings it towards his cock, wrapping it around and gently moving it up and down. Steve holds back a moan at the feeling of your hand on him, something he’s imagined over and over in the shower. But the real thing is far better than his imagination.

He makes you grip it firmer, “Just like that, good girl.” “What— what is it?” You question, watching as you continue the movements when he lets go of your hand.

“It’s my cock, little one.” He informs you.

Your eyes widen, and Steve has to grab your hand so you don’t pull away, “But— isn’t this bad? Dad always says sex is— it’s bad. It’s sinful.”

“No baby.” Steve shakes his head, “This isn’t sex, you’re just helping me. You think I would do something that would get you in trouble?”

Again, your faith in him works to his advantage, and he’s able to drop your hand again when you continue the movements, “You wouldn’t.” “Exactly, little one.” He has to take some hard breaths, chest starting to heave up and down. He reaches out again, caressing your cheeks with both hands now, “This is great, but, I’m afraid I’m still as nervous as before. Think we need to try something else.” “Like what?” You look up at him.

“Open your mouth, doll, stick out your tongue.” He orders. You obey immediately, making him smile, knowing he isn't going to have anymore trouble with you tonight. He has you exactly where he wants you.

He walks forward a little more, getting closer to your face, moving your hand away as he grabs the base of his cock, “Lick it for me, like you would a popsicle.” Your eyebrows furrow, but you obey, slowly licking his cock in the same up and down movement your hand had made moments before.

Steve groans at the feeling, having to keep his eyes on you instead of rolling in the back of his head like they want to. He doesn’t want to miss anything, “Doing so well for me, angel.”

You smile at the praise, appreciating that you’re helping him, even if you don’t exactly know how you are or what you’re doing.

“Why don’t you try sucking on it now.” He tenderly moves the hand he has on your cheek to your hair, persuading you to put it in your mouth, “Oh god.” He breaths out as your lips form around him. He closes his eyes briefly, your mouth feeling heavenly on his cock. He takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down.

You’re not a teenage boy, don’t finish too soon.

He puts both his hands on your head, smoothly moving your mouth up and down, praising you has he does, “Such a good helper. You’re doing so good for me pretty girl. Helping me so well.”

He can feel your lips try and smile at his words, egging him on. His self control starts to slip a little, his hips trusting, going deeper into your mouth and making you gag around him. He pulls out, watching as you cough, “Sorry, angel.” He caresses your cheeks, “Breathe out your nose, okay? just focus on doing that while I do what I need with your mouth.”

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, or a chance to refuse if you wanted to, putting his cock back in your mouth and slowly moving up and down. After a few moments, letting you get used to it again, he goes a bit deeper, watching as you gag around him again, but this time, he doesn't pull out, instead letting your throat get used to him. He looks down at you sternly, “Just focus on breathing out your nose.” You nod best you can to him, making him smile, “Good girl.” He starts to steadily thrust in and out of your mouth, going deeper and deeper each time. Your gagging happening further and further between.

The feeling of your mouth around him, feeling of his cock sliding down your throat, makes him let out deep moans that fill the empty room around you both. He starts to thrust a little quicker, making you close your eyes.

He doesn't like that.

“Eyes open.” He orders, watching as you open them again, “Keep looking up at me, little one.”

Steve doesn't know how, but you still look so innocent and pure looking up at him like that, bright eyed and so trusting. Even when he’s fucking your throat.

“Such a pretty girl for me.” He starts to thrust harder, “My pretty girl, helping me out so good. Such an angel.”

You choke a bit as he continues to go down deeper and harder, making tears form in your eyes as drool starts to fall around your lips and down your chin. Steve doesn't think you've ever look more perfect than right then.

Steve slows down, not wanting to finish this just yet, taking himself out of your mouth to let you catch your breath. He knows you've never done anything like this, but he’s so proud of how well you’re doing for him.

“You’re doing so well for Daddy, angel.” Steve caresses your face.

“Daddy?” You ask him quietly, voice a little hoarse from your throat being used by him.

“Yes, angel. Daddy.” He nods, “Because you’re my good girl.”

You nod at his answer, not needing to ask anymore questions. Like what most people in the community and church believe, what Steve says goes. You won’t question him.

Everyone believes Steve to be a good, church going man. He's a leader. Always giving a helping hand and kind greeting when it’s needed. He’s trusted by the community whole heartedly.

Steve brings his cock back into your mouth, thrusting in and out again. He moves one of his hands to your throat, groaning when he can feel himself sliding up and down it, “Fuck.” He whispers. He didn’t know something could feel so divine.

You truly are an angel.

He starts to feel himself slip a bit, going back to harder and deeper thrusts. He thinks you look even sweeter when the tears finally fall down your cheeks.

Enjoying the sound of you slurping and chocking on his cock, Steve goes faster, “You like that, little one? You like helping Daddy? I need you to say it.” He knows you can’t talk, but you try to anyway, and the vibrations he feels when you do send him over the edge as he thrusts deeper down your throat, head thrown back, riding out his high, “Fuck— Angel. So good. You feel so good. Such a good girl.”

His warm cum shoots out, coating the walls of your throat white. He keeps himself there as you gag on it. He looks down sternly, eyes dark, “Swallow it.” You do your best, swallowing everything you can as he takes his cock out of your mouth. You cough and try to catch your breath as Steve tucks himself back into his boxers, pulling up his pants.

When he’s done, he grabs your face, leaning down to give you a bruising kiss. He pulls back, looking at you with so much admiration, “Thank you, angel. You helped me so much. I’m not nervous at all anymore!”

“Really?” You ask him excitedly.

Steve nods, giving you another quick kiss, “Yep! You helped me so well! I don’t think anyone else could have helped me or done as good as you did.”

You smile widely, enjoying the fact you helped Steve out and the praise he’s giving you. Steve is someone you look up to, someone you admire. Like the other woman of the church, you’ve always believed he was handsome. But you also think he is wise and intelligent. A true faith filled man. You, like most of the congregation, hang onto his every word and follow his demands.

Being the one to help him fills you with so much pride and pleasure. Your self esteem growing at the fact you were the one to help him. Even with you being 20 now, most of the woman in the church still treat you like a child. Looking down at you. The fact you got to help a man like Steve makes you feel more womanly, even if helping him did make you feel weird and it was hard to breath sometimes.

But it’s Steve. Everyone trusts Steve.

And like he said, he wouldn’t make you do something that was wrong.

Even though he was never actually nervous about teaching the class, he did feel more relaxed after your little rendezvous. In fact, Steve doesn't remember a time he’s felt so at ease. The class went off without a hitch, not that he was expecting any other outcome. He knows what he’s doing.

As he packs up all his stuff alone, having sent you home with everyone else to get some rest, he tired you out pretty hard earlier, he walks over to the filing cabinet in the corer, gabbing his phone that was propped up there. He smirks to himself as he stops recording, going to his camera roll and cropping the video he actually cares about, getting rid of the rest. He watches the beginning of it, making sure he can see your face clearly as he fucks it.

Nodding at how clearly he can see everything, Steve attaches it to his messages, sending it with a wicked smirk.

Oh, Buck is going to love this.

Part Three

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lavishedinjimin · 4 years

Text

Crybaby - 3 (m)

— synopsis: he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care.

alt: Jungkook doesn’t want to leave you.

↳ pairing: jungkook x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff

↳ rating: r-18/18+

↳ word count: 12k

↳ warnings: the usual dom!jk x sub! reader, ddlg themes, reader is small in height, degrading terms, he’s aggressive this chapter YIKES, jungkook gets turned on seeing you cry, manhandling, uses of rope and a vibrator, kinky sex, size kink, multiple orgasms, rough intercourse, jk’s a sadist, throat fucking, dirty talk, teasing, very possessive jk, and aftercare!!! there’s also some tooth melting fluff to (hopefully) balance everything out ;)

A/n: Before anything else, I want to repeat saying that everything written here is purely fictional, consensual, and doesn’t mirror the mentioned artists’ personality in real life.

Jungkook thinks you’re the most adorable person in the entire world.

“How did you even fall in love with me?” you ask innocently, resting your head on his lap as you both let Edward Scissorhands play in the background. You didn’t even want to watch it in the first place but of course, a little bit of his desperate ‘please’ and puppy eyes always wins your meek heart.

He wraps his hand around your jaw, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. Giggling from the sudden impromptu kiss, you feel his soft, supple lips fondle with your own so gingerly. His grip on you tightens before he pulls away with a smirk, noticing the blush on your cheeks.

“So suddenly, baby?” Jungkook mutters as he feeds you a spoonful of Reese’s ice cream he holds in one hand. Looking down at your endearing face, he replies, “Don’t you remember our arcade date? That’s when I confessed my love to you.”

“Yeah, but…” you ponder, “Did you plan it all along?”

Jungkook shuts his eyes before giggling, his dimples peeking through his cheeks. Watching black strands of hair fall down right in front of his eyes as you gaze at him in confusion. Jungkook just sits there. “Well, there’s this exact moment when I knew that I just had to make you mine.”

With your eyes slowly expanding, you try to hide the smile that was slowly creeping up your face. He places the spoon inside the tub, letting his hand stroke your delicate cheek. “Wanna know what it was, baby girl?”

The way how fast you nodded your head was a little bit embarrassing. He grins nonetheless, “So…”

*flashback*

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s arm snakes around your waist before he tugs you closer to him. He gazes down at you with a smile before he points to the shelf full of toys and stuffed animals. “Which one do you like?”

Gulping, you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows, “Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer, “Because I’m gonna win as many tickets as I possibly can to get it for you.”

You didn’t know how to respond for your shyness takes over you once again. On the other hand, Jungkook finds this so charming about you.

“The pink penguin…perhaps?” you mumble.

Jungkook immediately walks closer to approach the male employee behind the counter and inquires, “Excuse me, but how many tickets to get that penguin over there?”

You giggle as you watch how serious he looked as if talking about a huge business deal with his arms crossed together.

The man replies with a bright smile, “1500 tickets, that is!”

“That’s a lot—” you exhale.

“Let’s go, Y/n!” he abruptly pulls you by the arm and tugs you along with him, “I’m gonna get that lil’ penguin for you, baby.”

Your heart swells at the petname. It wasn’t his first time saying it, you just can’t get used to it.

Even though this was the fifth date, the post-nervousness was still there. Before he picked you up from work, your hands were sweating bizarrely. It wasn’t like you weren’t comfortable with him, no, you were always at ease when you’re with him. The reason for the nervousness was you haven’t been in a relationship with someone for so long, and Jungkook has his bars set up high.

Plus, it was overwhelming in a good way; Jungkook was the confident type and he likes to display how much he adores you – either in private or public places, he didn’t care. As long as he can properly show how much he likes you.

The arcade has a very 80s feel to it, with a color scheme of mostly red, yellow, and blue. It was lively and has a fun atmosphere going around. Children were running around with their parents, eager to search for another machine to take over, teenage boys were competing against each other in a game of Tekken, and a lot of girls were having a blast inside the Karaoke rooms.

While time goes on in the arcade, you never realized that he was super competitive. “Y/n, I’m gonna beat this record, watch me.” He says in a deep tone as though wanting to sound serious, stretching his arms to prepare for the punching machine.

“Are you sure?” you chuckle as you hold all of you two’s well-earned tickets from the past hours, “The record is 877. Are you even strong enough?”

You could’ve sworn to yourself that it was an innocent, genuine question. But Jungkook, on the other hand, turns behind to look at you with those dark yet sensual eyes. He precipitously cracks his knuckles, succeeding to intimidate you.

“What a weird question, Y/n,” he says sarcastically with a smirk daubed on his face, “I don’t think you know how powerful I am, babe.”

As soon as those words left his lips, he turns back around in a flash, swinging his right arm with all his might until his fist crashes against the punching bag. You let out a loud gasp, mouth forming into a beaming wide grin as the machine slightly thuds from the harsh impact.

Still, he doesn’t look at the score and he looks at you with a cocky grin, boldly spreading his arms out.

“Kook—” you snort.

“What did I tell you, Y/n? I’m the strongest man you know.”

“Sure but,” you cover your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing too loud, “You s-scored 878!”

Jungkook whips around instantly. Surely, surely he didn’t win by only 1 single point! He groans and stomps his foot like a little child. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You couldn’t control your laughter anymore as you reach out to him, hugging his body from behind. Jungkook throws his head back in despair while he places his hands on top of yours. Your hug felt warm and soft, feeling your cheek pressed up against him. Jungkook turns you around until he was face to face with you.

“You’re so small,” he practically whispers underneath his breath. He places his long, slender index finger below your chin and tilts your head up. Then with his other hand, he uses it to remove the lost strands of hair away from your face. “So fucking cute.”

You can’t help but look away as your body freezes in place. And once again, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a little ball and hide from everyone from how tough he was staring at you. There was a fuzzy, fiery feeling going on inside your system that you can’t seem to handle.

“Nuh-uh, keep those pretty eyes on me.” He applies just the right amount of force on your chin and angles your head to look up.

Your breathing almost stops at that single sentence.

Jungkook looked like as if numerous of thoughts were running through his brain. His eyes were not only fixated on yours but were darting all over. He memorizes the pattern on your face; the distance between your nose to your mouth, the little creases near your eyes, your moles, and even the little pimples you had on your temples, he thinks you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful to handle.

‘How can a person look so perfect?’ He asks himself.

“Kook?”

Oh, how soft your voice is. His mouth curves into a gentle smile for he can’t help himself but pull you closer.

“Hm?”

“People are staring.”

Jungkook scoffs quietly, “Let them stare, Y/n. This is our world and they’re just living in it.”

You had a tough, long day at work and this date really made your day better. You were laughing and having fun with Jungkook the whole time, experiencing one of the most enjoyable days you’ve ever had. It was as if all of your problems went away whenever you’re with him. You and he played almost every game in the arcade, except for the Dance Dance machine which was sadly under maintenance. You were really looking forward to beating him in Dance Revolution because he insists that he’s a good dancer. He has yet to prove that to you!

“Yes! I won!” You yelled, turning your hands into a fist after successfully beating Jungkook at the Hockey table. He chuckles when you stuck your tongue out at him like a child.

“I obviously allowed you to win that one, babe,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “I mean, you have to win at least something, right?”

“Hey!” you pout, treading heavily to his side. Jungkook gawks down at you with his brows raised. “I won because I’m good at it, okay?”

“Aww,” he teases, “Alright then little one. Say whatever you want.”

“You’re so,” you gulp, “so m-mean.”

Jungkook looks around the arcade, zooming his eyes all over the place until he spots an ice-cream seller just outside the building.

An idea pops up inside his mind.

“I’ll treat you some ice cream, how’s that?”

He notices how your eyes glimmer as if little shining stars replaced your pupils. You nod frantically.

“Yeah? Alright, wait for me here, okay? And in the meantime, how about you turn in all of our tickets, and let’s see if we can get the penguin stuffie.”

“Okay,” you jitter excitedly, holding the stack of tickets tighter. You watch him walk out of the area, catching the way he pulls out his black leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

Making your way down the hallway to the main entrance where the ticket eaters are, you smile at a couple of strangers who had their eyes on you. When you arrived, you can’t take your eyes off of the shelves full of plushies. Especially the pink penguin that you were after. You had an instinct to squint your eyes at the toy as if having a little staring contest with it while the machine consumes and counts all of the tickets.

After a little while, you hear Jungkook’s voice calling your name.

“Y/n!” he shouts, holding up two cookies and cream ice cream cones, “come, come!”

You sprinted. You didn’t know why you were so excited to get the ice cream, leaving the tickets counting all alone behind you.

“Yaaay! Ice cr—oomph!”

There was a step slightly higher towards the exit and your feet immediately collides against it. Like a quick wisp of air, your body smashes upon the hard, cold cemented floor. A loud, painful cry escapes your lips as you close your eyes, trying to endure the building pain on your forearms and knees.

‘This is so embarrassing!’ you say in your mind, struggling to regain your composure.

People around you looked, some tried to hide their obvious laughter by covering their mouths, but none helped.

Jungkook saw everything. Quickly handing the ice cream back to the vendor, saying that ‘he’ll come back for it’, he dashes to where you are and handles your fallen body with utmost care.

“Hey, hey baby,” he whispers, placing his hands on your underarms to lift you up with ease, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His heart drops to his stomach right when you looked up at him with your big, teary eyes.

“Oh god,” Jungkook’s voice weakens, “No, no, don’t cry baby girl, don’t cry…”

You were so humiliated. You shouldn’t have run so fast like that, you should’ve watched your step! Now everyone will look at you weirdly!

Whimpering when Jungkook makes you walk, you shake your head to show that it hurts as you try to hold back your tears. “Ohh, Y/n,” he sighs before he lifts you up, and carries you to a nearby brown bench just outside the arcade. He crouches before you, “Does your knees hurt, hmm?” his hands caress your exposed legs up and down, trying his best to soothe you.

Biting your lip, you nod slowly.

“Aw, goodness,” he leans closer to you and kisses your forehead, “What did you do, huh? You should’ve been more careful and watched your step.” He clicks his tongue, making a ‘tsk’ sound, “Good thing there’s no scratches.”

The stern, strict tone of his voice caused you to look away and hang your head low. “S-Sorry…” you sniffed.

A single tear flows out of your right eye and it slowly treads down your cheek. Jungkook was quick to notice, wiping your tear away with his thumb. “Hey, it’s okay baby.” He reaches your hand and gives it a little kiss, “Don’t cry now, hmm? Look at me,” he tilts your head up with a single finger underneath your chin, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re okay, you’re with me.”

You only stared at him with glossy eyes, not giving a reply. However, Jungkook’s mind comes up with a plan. “Wait here Y/n, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“No!” you whine, shaking your head. Your hands grab onto his muscular biceps as you try to pull him closer.

He chuckles quietly and holds your face in his big, warm hands, his eyes staring deep into yours. “I won’t be going far, baby girl, I’m not leaving you alone, yeah? Stay here for me, I’ll be back in a quick second.” With a final kiss on top of your head, he shuffles back inside the arcade, leaving you alone on the bench while the soft, supple air kisses your skin. The wind whooshes your hair to one side, causing a few strands to get caught in your mouth. You hiked your knees up to your stomach, hugging yourself in search of comfort.

You never want to go inside that arcade ever again.

A few moments have passed and you see Jungkook walking back to you with a huge grin on his face, hands behind his back as if hiding something.

Your mood instantly picks up again when he surprises you with the soft, pink penguin stuffie, handing it over to you with a big smile. You eagerly reached your arms out to grab for the toy, but he doesn’t give it to you just yet.

“Uh-uh, promise me you won’t be sad anymore?”

“I promise!” you giggle, eyes laid still on the penguin. “Gimme!”

“Right,” he sighs amusingly, “Here you go, babe.” Jungkook laughs from how fast you snatched the stuffie away from him. He looks at you with love as you cuddled the toy in your arms, pressing your cheeks against it.

In the meantime, he leaves you to get the ice creams that the vendor was still keeping an eye on the entire time. Jungkook pays him and apologizes for the wait, before coming back to you with two cones in each hand.

“Ice cream,” he gives you your cone, “for my crybaby.”

Jungkook, somehow – as crazy as it may sound – feels his chest warming up from the sight of you. How come he likes seeing you this way? Something about taking care of you drives his heart pounding. Was it because you look so cute, yet so vulnerable? Or was it his caretaking, nurturing personality that was beginning to emerge? Whatever it was, Jungkook was fond of it.

Jungkook walks you back home, his hand intertwined with yours, while you carry your penguin toy that you named Perry.

“Perry?” Jungkook chuckles amusingly, “Like Perry the Platypus?”

“Nope!” you shake your head with a serious glint in your face, “Perry the Pink Penguin!”

“Well that’s just horrific.”

The air around the two of you was great – it wasn’t hot nor cold either. You two had little sweet talks and short conversations here and there as your shoes brush along the paved sidewalks.

When you both end up in your doorstep, you bid Jungkook goodbye. “Thank you for today, Kook,” you speak shyly, “And um, for this—” you refer to the penguin stuffie. He chuckles but not a word has been spoken. So you continue, “I-I also want to say sorry… for uh… because you had to see me cry…”

“No, no, it’s alright with me,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, enveloping your small figure into a hug, leaning down so that his chin rests on top of your head. “It doesn’t bother me. In fact, uh, Y/n?”

You raise your brows, pulling out of the hug to stare at him, “Yeah?”

Jungkook gulps the ball that has been formed in his throat, looking away from your beautiful face for a moment before recollecting his thoughts, “I’ve…I’ve thought about this for a while now. Like a really long time.”

You listen with your mouth slightly agape, watching him get a little flustered.

“I really really fucking like you, Y/n. I know you know that already.”

Your heart beats a little faster.

“And I want to spend more time with you. There’s not a day where I don’t think about you. Almost every second of my mind is filled with you and your pretty smile. I w-want to treat you and take care of you everyday without having to think twice. So, uh, if you want can you…can you be my girl—”

“Yes!”

Jungkook was taken aback from your quick reply. His eyes slightly expand as the corner of his lips curve up, “Yes?”

“Yes! I-I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Jungkook’s heart was filled with joy and ecstasy for he was so glad that you felt the same way. He lifts your body up and spins you around, causing you to squeal and hold onto his shoulders.

“You’re mine now, Y/n. Fucking finally.”

*end of flashback*

“What do you mean?! So the entire time we were playing games at that arcade… the moment you fell in love with me was when I cried because I tripped?!” You bellowed, sitting up straight on the couch as Jungkook laughs his ass off from your reaction.

“Well, obviously it’s not only that! That moment just sticks to my mind a lot. You’re too adorable when you cry.” Jungkook smirks on the last sentence, having two meanings behind it.

You huff, standing up to head to the bedroom. “Hey, where are you going baby?” With him still giggling, he tries to catch your arm.

“Bedroom! I’m scared of Edward Scissorhands. You’re weird, Jungkook.”

“I’ll be with you after I finish my ice cream!”

Being a graphic designer can be challenging yet enjoyable at the same time. You get to do what you love which was drawing and editing digital photos, yet the only downfall was that you had to work in an office building. Being an introvert, having a lot of people around your workplace was a lot to get used to.

But thankfully, you have Jimin.

Not only is he one of your best friends, but he was also a senior designer who is assigned to you – his inferior.

Sometimes you two can’t even get a single thing done because all you both did was fool around your office, instead of him guiding you and teaching you the ropes.

“Hey, Y/n!” Jimin gleams as he walks inside the office room, hands in his pockets. He was wearing black fitted pants and a white long-sleeved shirt tucked inside. “Have you ate yet?”

You stretch your arms out, twisting your body side to side to crack your bones. “Uh, yeah! I ate two cups of ramen before you got here.”

He smiles at you, “That’s good. Anyway, are we still working on the designs for our Christmas calendar?” Jimin sits across from you, eyeing all of the scattered papers filled with colorful drawings.

“Mhm! This is my fourth edit. Director didn’t like my designs,” you pout.

“That’s why you need my help, Y/n.” He speaks slowly with his eyes squinting, enunciating his words, “Me and no one else.”

“Sure.” You roll your eyes.

“That’s no way to talk to your superior!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay when he gets stuck in the long traffic. He was on the way to your office building to pick you up from work, but of course, it just had to be a busy Monday today. No cars were moving even a single inch, the whole highway motionless that causes Jungkook to zone out a little bit.

Zoning out isn’t a good move for Jungkook for he tends to think about the most ridiculous, absurd things ever.

But suddenly, as if his thoughts were infatuated by a demon, the image of your sobbing, fucked-out face flashes in his mind. He unconsciously bites on his lower lip, remembering how much your little body shuddered, and how you keep withering around the bed from even the slightest of touch.

“Shit,” Jungkook breathes out, feeling uncomfortable in his seat. He shuffles around until he finds a good position, sensing a tightness in his pants. He recalls how he got so turned on just from your sensitivity, the way you were whimpering and trying your best to hold back your tears.

Knowing that he’s the only person that can make you cry from having sex really strokes his ego. Before he had you, he didn’t know that he had a kink for making his significant other cry during intercourse.

It may be just the sadistic side of him getting fueled up whenever he sees your tears, he can’t explain how much it drives him wild.

Jungkook smirks while he rests his elbow on the car door as his fingers play with his lip. He’s cocky about the fact that he can make you sob and quiver like that. Make you turn so fucking submissive and obedient for him, letting him take over and control your frail, poor body.

He remembers the first time he discovers your filthy kinks and fantasies, how baffled he was to know that an innocent, shy girl like you can be so wild. It was always the ones you don’t expect to have a freaky side.

Jungkook grunts as his hand grip the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles turning white. He chuckles to himself as the raging boner hardens beneath his black ripped jeans, almost being a little too painful to bear. He hears your cries of pleasure ringing in his ears, the way you whimpered so cutely every time, your sobs growing louder and louder, he loves those noises. Thankfully, the traffic eases up and cars finally move.

“Oh, Y/n,” Jungkook mutters whilst shaking his head, “What an angel you are.”

If it weren’t for the traffic lights that always reminded him to slow down, Jungkook would’ve driven in light-speed just to see you again. His dirty thoughts that won’t go away was making him impatient and hornier.

When he successfully arrives at the building, he speed-walks to the elevator, heading to the second floor. Jungkook taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms together. “Fucking hell,” he grunts as his mind keeps repeating images of your cute body trying to take his dick, how your legs shake, or the way your eyes couldn’t keep themselves open from the pleasure he was giving you. He sighs with a little grin on his face, “Why am I like this?”

The door opens and he makes his way to your area, knowing which hallways and turns he has to make thanks from his previous visits. He makes long, quick strides until he finally reaches your office.

But the excited smile that was once planted in his face fades away when he spots you from outside the window, with Jimin behind you. Jungkook feels his body tense when Jimin leans his body from behind, his arms trapping your upper body with his cheek pressed against your face.

“What the fuck?”

Jungkook’s blood boils and he feels himself getting enraged. Why were you letting him touch you like that? He knows that Jimin’s only a friend, but he was not supposed to act all touchy like that with a girl who’s already taken. It made Jungkook furious to see some other man holding his girl like that – for he was supposed to be the only one. The only arms that are supposed to wrap around your body are his.

He tries to calm down. Jungkook really does attempt to calm down but his nerves don’t stop heating up. With a shaky exhale, he grabs his phone from his back pocket and calls your number to test if you’ll pick up.

“Oh, wait, is that your phone?” Jimin asks, “Someone’s calling you.”

You giggle while you make your way to the desk while dragging Jimin behind you. Your phone displayed Jungkook’s name – although it made your heart skip a beat – you declined the call.

“Huh,” Jungkook scoffs, smirking wrathfully. He doesn’t even try to wonder why you didn’t pick up. He feels irritated and all the flirty, playful mood he once had was gone in a single moment.

You jump in surprise when the door swings open, revealing a very angry Jungkook making his way to your desk. Jimin instantly distances himself away from you.

“B-Babe!” you laugh nervously, palms getting sweaty. You quickly glance at Jimin, sending him a worried look before turning your attention back to Jungkook. Your boyfriend stands tall across the desk with his arms crossed, glaring at you with a lifted eyebrow. “You’re here e-early!”

He doesn’t reply.

Unwillingly, you clasp your hands behind your back and your head hangs low from Jungkook’s intimidating, hard glare, falling right into submission. You gulp from the immense tension that builds up in the room.

“Uh…I’ll be heading off—” Jimin says, making his way to the exit but Jungkook doesn’t speak a single word to him, nor to you.

You take this chance to gather all of your belongings, packing your laptop, tablet, and shoving all of your papers inside your tote bag in a rush.

“So we’re allowed to let other people touch us, hmm, Y/n?” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. His head was tilted up although his gaze looks down on you.

“I-It doesn’t mean anything!” you feel your knees getting wobbly, wanting to just disappear from the harsh look he was giving you.

He rolls his eyes, “Of fucking course it doesn’t. But tell me, Y/n, if it were the other way around. If you saw some other girl’s face pressed against fucking mine while she had her arms around me, would you like it?” With your feet shuffling against the floor in fear, you look away from him. “Huh? Would you like seeing some other girl in your place?”

“No.”

“No. That’s correct. So I have the right to be fucking angry.”

Jungkook rushes forward, “Why didn’t you answer your phone, hmm?” he slams his hand on the desk, causing you to gasp. “Y/n?”

While your eyes look down on the ground, you can hear the heel of his boots clicking against the floor, walking closer to you. The air that surrounds the two of you immediately thickens, and you weren’t a fan of the tense atmosphere at all.

“I was w-working—”

“Bullshit.” He grips your jaw tightly in one hand, forcing you to angle your head up and look at him. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Your heart clenches and drops down to the floor from the stringent attitude of his voice. You mewl when he tightens his grip and feverishly rattles your head side to side. “Use your fucking words.”

“I…w-was…” you stammer, “talking with Jimin.” Instant regret fills your mind and body for even being so close with Jimin when you should’ve answered his call. “I’m sorry—!”

“Save your sorry’s for later. I won’t be accepting your apologies soon enough, brat.”

He releases his grip on you and walks away without sparing you another glance. “We’ve been together for so long, Y/n. Haven’t you learned that I don’t like it when other men oggle you up?” Jungkook turns back around, lifting the hems of his long-sleeves so that it exposes his forearms. “If I wasn’t here, you would’ve allowed him to keep touching you like that, right? Yes or no?”

You immediately shake your head, “N-No!”

“No? Really...” he laughs darkly, “Please, Y/n, I wasn’t born yesterday. Since he’s ‘just a friend’ I still think you would’ve let him touch you. I know you, I see right past your fucking lies.”

He wasn’t wrong, and you feel so guilty. So guilty that all you wanted to do was to hug him and apologize, but you know that it isn’t easy.

“Head down to the car. Don’t make me wait for you because if not, I’m gonna fucking leave you here.” He brushes his long hair back and with that, he was gone.

A chill came running down your spine and you immediately follow right behind his footsteps.

The car ride back home was quiet and you didn’t like the silence at all. You were trying to force yourself to talk, say sorry so that everything will hopefully go back to normal. But there was as if a thick wall separating the two of you.

“Babe?” you whisper meekly, your hand nervously playing with the hem of your thigh-high stockings. Jungkook clenches his jaw yet he doesn’t respond.

A pout creeps up your lips instinctively, “I’m really really sorry…”

No response.

You feel a heavy burden in your heart, upsetting you even more because he was giving you the silent treatment. Jungkook has never ignored you like this before, not even in your most heated argument. Looking at his face in hopes that he’ll at least give you a single glance, you depict how his eyebrows were furrowed and eyes straight ahead on the road. “Kook, please talk to me—”

Your words got cut off when the engine suddenly roars loudly and the car accelerates, your body going in a state of shock as Jungkook shifts the gear. He steps on the pedal and the car goes from a steady 60 to 80 miles per hour.

“Jungkook! S-Slow down!” your left hand reaches out to grab a hold of his own hand, but he was quick to shove it away, leaving you sad and whining in your seat.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, “The faster we get back home, the quicker I can punish you.” He says without looking at you.

Your core jumps and twists at his demeaning words, feeling confused yet excited at the same time. Unintentionally, you clench your thighs together as his hot, sultry voice resonates throughout the car.

“You can smile all you want right now baby,” he mutters, “Gonna wipe that cheeky little grin on your face later when I force your orgasms out of you.”

“Put your hands against the wall,” Jungkook immediately commands after he drags you to his bedroom. He stands tall behind you, watching your poor figure slowly obeying his words. His lips curve up when he studies your body, already trembling in fear. This feeds unto his primal, dominant desires to take over you and ruin you. Your little hands touch the cold walls with your back slightly arched, already knowing what’s about to come.

Jungkook’s dick throbs in just the sight of the combination of your skirt and thigh-highs. He doesn’t hesitate to firmly grasp your ass cheek below the flimsy material with his big hand, causing a whimper to fall off your lips. “Look at this fucking outfit you have,” he muses, “If it weren’t for that sweater you have on, I would’ve said that you look so much like a fucking slut.”

“Jungkook—”

He suddenly blows a hard slap, “That’s not my name. Huh, you really wanna disobey daddy?”

You whimper, “N-No.”

He hikes your skirt up to expose more of your plump ass, landing another harsh spank that caused your body to jolt, eyes fluttering shut from the sting. “No? Isn’t it disrespectful to ignore daddy’s phone-calls?” he hits your ass again, harder, his muscles flexing. “Tell me, what was Jimin doing that he just need to fucking put his hands all over you with his head so fucking close to yours, huh?”

Your eyes instantly start to become glossy from the solid, rough slaps on your tender ass cheeks. Chewing on your bottom lip, you try your best to cover your little sniffs.

Within a quick second, Jungkook flips you around until your back was pressed firmly against the wall, his hand wrapped around your throat. You hitch your breath up from the aggressive behavior, how his eyes were quick to scan your body up and down like a predator. “You’re not gonna answer me?” he scoffs, “Fucking god – you love to make daddy mad, don’t you? Acting like such a bitch.”

Furiously shaking your head side to side, you disagree with his statement. Jungkook is scary when he’s angry – even though it can be seen as hot sometimes – you never want to make him mad on purpose!

“T-That’s not true, daddy!” your bottom lip faintly quivers as your eyes can’t seem to focus on him.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise up, giving you a mocking expression, “Ohh really, baby?” the grip on your throat tightens, making you gasp for air, “You don’t like making me angry? When in fact that I know you like being punished like this. You like daddy manhandling your frail, little body, and letting him ruin it in every possible way. Are you gonna lie and tell me that that isn’t true, hm? ”

You didn’t know what to answer. Your chest heaves up and down in panic while you release a quiet, little mewl in desperation. Jungkook – somehow – finds that adorable; how your big, teary eyes look up at him in utter fear of what’s about to come.

He smirks as he leans down to your height, your faces so close to each other as his lips barely graze against yours. You can feel his hot breath upon you, the warmness of his body resonating.

With a low, almost gravelly voice, he asks you; “Do you not talk?”

Those words seem awfully familiar…

Gulping nervously, you tremble, “I-I can…”

“You can? Sorry darling, I just needed to make sure because you seem to be silent every time I ask a goddamn question. Now, get on the fucking bed.”

Jungkook watches you scramble and obey his command, the cold mattress rubs against your skin from the air conditioning. He stands at the edge of the bed, watching you with primal eyes. “Undress.”

“W-What?”

“I said what I said. Strip,” he crosses his arms, revealing his toned biceps, “Leave your skirt and stockings on. Remove everything except those.”

You can’t seem to look at his eyes because you were afraid that you were going to melt when you do so. You tug your sweater up, your skin exposing to the air that surrounds the two of you, followed by your bra. Your boyfriend sees your cute hardened nipples, making him smirk a little bit.

“Now your panties, go on.”

Before you can even yank your undergarment down, Jungkook speaks, “Look at me while you do so. You’ve been avoiding my eyes all this time.”

Jungkook barely hears the quiet whimper that emits your mouth while your eyes finally lock onto his. Wanting to tease you furthermore, he sends you a cocky smirk with a quick raise of his brow as you pulled your panties down.

His breath almost hitches up from the sight of you, all naked except those kinky pairs of stockings and skirt. He wonders if you specifically wore them just to tease him, heck, was it even appropriate for your work? Even so, he’s glad that he’s the only person to see you like this, so beautiful and ready to be ruined.

You wonder if he’s going to crawl on the bed with you and touch you, waiting for him to make a move but nothing happens. You look up at him expectantly with wide eyes as your hands timidly fumble with your skirt.

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. Did you hear him correctly? Like... does he really want you to play with yourself right in front of him? You can feel your tummy do backflips from his words while you instantly turn shy once again.

“Fucking hell, is one instruction not enough for that brain of yours to comprehend? I said—,” he leans down to grab your thighs, forcing your legs apart with vigor, exposing your cunt all to his eyes. “—touch yourself.”

You whine when he suddenly crawls on top of you, arms on either side of your figure to support himself up, his face hovering above yours. He leans down and whispers in your ear, “Bring your hand down, little girl, and play with your pussy the way daddy does.”

Without angering him further, you obey and brought your hand down to touch your clit. Jungkook never removes his eye-contact as he watches your face slowly contort in pleasure. With two fingers, you gently circled your clit, making your mouth part open from the meek pleasure. “O-Ohh,” you can feel your wet lips when you dragged your fingers along them.

You feel so embarrassed masturbating in front of him like this. Jungkook chuckles and kneels in front of you, placing his knees in between your spread legs to watch how you play with your cunt. You moan when he finally grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, revealing his toned body for your eyes to see. This encouraged you to rub your clit faster, but it just wasn’t enough.

“Daddy…” you whine, “please...”

Jungkook notices the frown that was beginning to form your lips, but instead of feeling bad, he takes the opportunity to degrade you. “What is it, baby? Hm? Do you even know how to touch your pussy?” he teases, “Do you still fuckin’ need daddy’s help?”

You don’t even care if you look pitiful, shaking your head up and down. “Y-Yes, please touch m-me…” you say with a quiet voice. As you continue to masturbate, Jungkook sees how your body trembles, knowing that it wants more.

But sadly, you look too good in this position that you’re in. Your skirt hiked up to your abdomen while your toes curl in desperation. Jungkook lightly scoffs as he doesn’t hesitate to palm his rock-hard cock through his jeans. “Mmm, I would if you had been a good girl. But daddy wants you to cum with your own fingers, prove to me that you’re a big girl who can fucking cum without my help.”

You release an exasperated groan, arching your back in utter need. Jungkook was cruel to do this to you, as he definitely knows how much you prefer his own fingers on your juicy little pussy.

The sight was boosting his ego, whether he likes it or not. He observes how your cute, middle finger tries to insert itself inside your tight little hole, earning a loud moan from you. Jungkook sees your arousal dripping down from your entrance, the glistering liquid running down to your ass. You were so wet, and he was dying to taste you. Jungkook feels his dominance taking over as his patience was wearing thin, wanting to shove your hands away and just take over. It frustrates him how desperate you make him feel without even trying.

You finger yourself with one hand, as the other continues to rub your clit. You try to remember how Jungkook does it, your mind trying to reminisce his techniques, making you distracted from your own pleasure. It doesn’t even feel half as good as his! You let out a loud, frustrated whine, feeling your eyes well up with tears once again.

“I-I can’t,” you sniff, a tear rolling down your cheek as you try your best to make yourself feel good, “Please, daddy I need y-you!”

Jungkook leans forward as he wipes your tears with his thumb, licking his lips slowly while he watches you with a sensual look. “What do you need from daddy, hm?”

You groan, hating how much he can torture you like this. Your breathing was already unstable and your mind was thinking of ways on how you can make him touch you. “I need your fingers, daddy – please? I can’t cum like this,” you shake your head desperately, “I can’t.”

“Holy fucking shit, I think I need to get a new baby girl. One who knows how to pleasure herself without my help.”

“No!” you yell, closing your eyes as more tears wells up, “N-No! I-I’m sorry I just can’t…”

Jungkook almost feels bad. Almost.

“That’s sad, baby girl. If you can’t cum then don’t try anymore.” He abruptly spanks your inner thigh, leaving you crying for more, “You’ve been a bad girl today and you’ve got to endure your punishment.”

Jungkook tugs your hands away and your pussy clenches from the sour loss. “Keep crying, slut, this is what you deserve.” He stands up from the bed and makes his way to the closet to get something. You obediently lay there with a frown as you wiped your eyes, ogling his broad, muscular back in the meantime.

When he was taking up more time than you wanted, you kicked your legs impatiently while whining.

He smirks, rolling his eyes, “Impatient, I see?” After that, he swiftly turns around to reveal a red-colored rope, dangling it side to side for a little tease.

“What are you g-gonna do with that?” you ask with wide, glossy eyes.

Jungkook walks back to you with that signature sultry yet teasing look, making you anticipate what’s about to come even more.

“Daddy’s gonna tie your hands behind your back until your wrists bruise, little one.”

Your core throbs from the image he paints in your mind, how the rope would probably scratch against your skin, and how turned on he would be from the sight of you struggling. Jungkook motions you to turn around with a little spin of his finger. You kneel, looking away from him while he grabs your wrists together in one hand. The arrogant smirk doesn’t wipe off of his face as he ties the rope around your hands, whimpering when he pulls it tight.

“Is that too tight baby girl?” he asks, stopping himself from laughing, “Does it hurt?”

You sniff, “A l-little bit.”

“Good. I was actually planning to bind your legs together as well, but I don’t think you can handle that anymore.” He says behind you, “I don’t think your precious body can handle being daddy’s little ropebunny.”

With his words, you turn your head to look at him with a confused expression, “Rope…ropebunny?”

Jungkook chuckles and nods his head once.

“What does that mean, daddy?”

Jungkook’s heart swell, “Means that you’re letting me tie you up, restraint your body with rope – and letting daddy do whatever he fucking wants to you. Bruise your skin until it hurts too much. If maybe you weren’t such a crybaby and a sensitive little bitch then I would’ve done that to you by now.”

He doesn’t let you reply as he gives your ass a loud, stinging spank using the palm of his right hand. You whimper in pain, closing your eyes for a mere second as your mouth parts.

“Head down, ass up. Now.”

You do as you’re told, and not going to lie, your heart was doing backflips from the nervousness and intimidation of the position that you’re in. Your ass and cunt were so exposed, allowing him to see how wet you are. Your cheeks pressed against the sheets, tilted to the side so that you can at least see a portion of his figure behind you. Although you release a loud cry when he suddenly lands a slap directly on your throbbing clit. Your hands instinctively moved to grab onto something, but the rope was preventing them from doing so.

“Daddy—!” He slaps your pussy again, this time harder. He slides his index finger down your wet slick, teasingly prodding against your entrance that causes your arousal to gush.

“God, you’re so fucking noisy. I’d put a gag in that loud mouth of yours to shut you up, but daddy loves your cute whimpers too much.”

You dig your nails onto your palm when Jungkook finally plays with your pussy, using two fingers to gently – barely rub your clit. The tip of his index and middle finger brushes against your throbbing clit, using the slightest bit of pressure. He bites his lip from the way you wiggle your ass, desperate for more. “You can’t even masturbate without my assistance, fucking hell,” he muses, “did it embarrass you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum meekly, grinding your teeth together because you needed more friction, and you were too afraid to tell him.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smirks, “You had to cry like a pathetic little bitch, too.” Without a warning, he easily shoves his middle finger in, making you arch your back painfully, drawing a loud squeal. He starts pumping it in and out at a fast pace. The wet squelching noise that your cunt makes, paired with your moans was music to his ears. “I guess it feels better when daddy plays with your pussy, right slut?”

When you don’t answer immediately, too focused on the pleasure, he inserts two more fingers in – stretching your pussy. You gasp loudly, his long, slender fingers reaching the most intimate places inside of you. Jungkook bites his lip harshly, getting so turned on from your sweet moans and whines.

“Y-Yeah… yes daddy – oww fuck – it feels much better,” even though your mind was filled in lust and can’t think of anything else but the way he was furiously pumping three fingers in and out of you, you answer him in fear that his punishment will turn way worse. His three fingers were almost too much for your hole to handle, making your hips tremble as it tries to accommodate the girth.

“Who owns your pussy, hm?” he uses his other unoccupied hand to rub and pinch your clit, providing you with overstimulation of pleasure. His fingers reach deeper until it hits your g-spot, making your toes curl while you once again tear up. He growls, “Who fucking owns you?”

“You!” you moan, vision getting blurry, “You own me d-daddy…” you can already feel yourself coming close to an orgasm – one thing you can’t do with your own fingers. Your stomach tightens and tightens, waiting for your oh-so needed release. You sob onto the sheets, eyes closed in desperation.

“Good thing you know—” but he suddenly pulls his hands away, leaving you shaking and breathless. “This is my cunt and I get to do whatever I want with it.”

“No!” you groan in frustration from the denied orgasm, eyebrows furrowing as your legs shake, “Fuck y-you.”

Jungkook’s ears pick up the words you muttered.

“What was that?” He roughly wraps his hand around your neck and forces your upper body to lift up. You start to panic as Jungkook chokes you, “What the fuck did you say, hm? Getting fucking bold today, aren’t we?”

“S-Sorry,” you stutter, not having the courage to speak. You didn’t mean to say that at all! You were just frustrated and the words slipped out without realizing it! He sees a droplet of tear dripping down your cheek and he rolls his eyes.

“What a bratty, disobedient little fucktoy.” Jungkook quickly stands up to unbutton his jeans and pulls it down, leaving himself in his underwear. “You’re not the good girl that I know.” He hops back on the bed with you and moves so that he kneels in front of you. He holds your face up with one hand on your jaw as the other pulls his boxers down. Your mouth waters from the sight of his cock springing out, the angry red tip hitting your cheek.

“If I stuff my cock down your throat then maybe you’d shut the fuck up, learn your lesson, and think before you speak. Huh, slut?” He strokes his length a few times, letting his precum lube his cock.

He nudges the tip against your lips, signaling you to open your mouth. He releases a long, guttural moan when you wrap your lips around him as he pushes his length further and further, your mouth feeling so warm and wet. Jungkook initiates the pace as he starts to rock his hips steadily. A sudden gush of tears escapes your eyes when he shoves past your gag reflex, whining as your throat struggles to take in his big cock.

“Choke.”

Jungkook doesn’t wipe the tears off of your face like he used to, this time letting them flow and drip down your jaw. Your pussy clenches every time he thrusts forwards, feeling yourself get wetter and more aroused from the noises he makes. He twitches whenever your throat contracts, feeling it tighten and squeezes his cock so good.

“Do you like this, baby girl?” he smiles sadistically, “You like being throat fucked?” Jungkook knows you can’t answer so he continues to torment you, “I like you better when your mouth is stuffed with daddy’s cock. Much more useful than being an undisciplined, rude slut.”

You shut your eyes while you slack your jaw, trying to take all of him the best that you can. He grabs a bunch of your hair, pulling at your scalp, the pain making you kick your legs repeatedly. While he snaps his hips, thrusting in and out, Jungkook watches how your saliva drips down from to your chin that makes a whole mess of your face.

Jungkook finally gains some sort of empathy, pulling his dick out to let you breathe. You emit a harsh, rugged exhale. He lowers himself until his face was directly parallel to yours, “Why was he touching you like that?” His eyes scans your poor, messy self, eyes puffy with your hair all over the place.

You sniff, “He’s just a f-friend!”

He wipes the saliva on the corner of your mouth using his thumb, “Don’t you have a boyfriend? Hm? Doesn’t he know that you’re mine? Even if he’s your goddamn friend, he doesn’t need to touch you like that.” His voice somehow turned soft, a bit more like his natural talking voice. He shakes his head whilst staring directly at your weary eyes, “And what if I wasn’t there, huh? What if he did something to you that I wouldn’t like?”

“Are…” you tilt your head, trying to lighten up the situation in hopes that he’ll go easy on you. You start to giggle, “Are you jealous, daddy?”

You didn’t know that it was a bad move until his face immediately hardens, raising an eyebrow up. He scoffs, “You think I would be punishing you like this if your actions took a toll on me, Y/n?” he stands up from the bed and walks over to the bedside table, opening the drawer, “Lay on your tummy. I won’t say it again.”

Jungkook grabs the remote control vibrator from the box of toys the two of you had been collecting. You certainly love your toys, he knows that, but it’s a completely different situation if he uses them to torture you. It’s better for him that you can’t see what he’s doing, bringing your anticipations up for what’s about to come. He turns the toy on, your breath immediately hitching when you hear the buzzing sound. The hot pink, egg-like looking toy with a slender tail vibrates against his palm.

“Daddy? Wha…what are you gonna do with tha—” Your words painfully got cut off when he plunges the toy inside your pussy, the vibrations instantly resonating throughout your core and lower abdomen. You sobbed loudly, the rope tightening around your wrists whenever you tried to struggle away. “Oh my god!” your back arches, feeling your eyes rolling to the back of your head, “Daddy!”

He walks to the other side of the room to go sit on the plush loveseat, twiddling with the remote on his right hand. He doesn’t hesitate to crank the setting up, noticing how your ass trembles and wiggles. Your mouth drops open while you feel an immense tingling sensation down there, moaning and shuddering on the bed.

Jungkook wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump slowly, observing how your cute little figure trembles and makes a mess of the sheets. He notices the way your pussy clenches around the toy so tightly, and how your cunt never stopped dripping in arousal.

He teases his swollen tip with his thumb as he turns the toy’s setting up another notch. The smirk grows on his face from the noises you make. He was addicted to the sight of you right now; your hips shuddering as you try to escape all of the vast ecstasy, the stockings you wear making you look as adorable as ever – if he had a camera he would definitely take a picture of you.

“Daddy, p-please – I’m gonna cum!” you sob, chewing on your swollen bottom lip. That was his cue to put the setting to the highest level. Within a flash, your spill your cum down your pussy and onto the bed, ruining the sheets as your body contorts, hands balling into tight fists. Your orgasm feels like you gushed a whole waterfall, cumming so hard while your hips involuntarily lifts up off of the bed.

He continues to fuck his hand, staring at your sweaty, hot body with hooded eyes while he groans darkly. His cock was rock solid and was also begging for a release, but he knows to control himself. Jungkook hears your sobs get louder and louder, knowing that the overstimulation was too much for you to handle.

He stands up and crawls back with you on the bed, his warm hands starting to caress your inner thighs.

“Da—” you cry, “daddy… t-too much…”

“Yeah?” he smirks before lifting your ass up until he was directly in front of your cunt. he smells your arousal and it caused shivers to run down his back. Without holding back, he wraps his mouth around your throbbing clit and starts to suck harshly on it.

Jungkook was absolutely nasty to do this to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his tongue swirl around your bud, flicking and sucking at the same time. You can’t even comprehend the pain and pleasure that as going through your body right now, for it was all too much. “A-Aawwh shit,” you breathe, “D-Daddy, I can’t... oh m-my god!”

The combination of the powerful buzzing vibrator inside you, plus his mouth on your clit caused another strong climax to wash throughout your system. You flail your arms behind your back as your body can’t seem to keep still. Jungkook holds your hips in place as he licks your pussy clean of your cum. He grunts from the way your legs were quivering after forcing another orgasm out of you.

“Taste so fuckin’ delicious,” he says after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “What a good little pussy.”

Finally, he pulls on the tail and the toy plops out with a wet sound. Though your chest doesn’t stop heaving up and down, your system is still riled up from the strong orgasms you just had.

“What will you say, baby girl, hm?”

You perk your head up from the sudden question. Your mind quickly wanders for an answer but was quickly distracted when you feel him squeeze your tender ass cheeks.

Leaning down to your ear, he whispers with an awful smirk, “Say ‘thank you daddy’.” His monotone voice sent shivers all throughout your body, “Say thank you for letting you cum. I would’ve stopped the toy and edged you when you were about to orgasm to further your punishment, but glad I didn’t, right baby?”

“Thank…” your cheeks start to heat up, “Thank you for l-letting me cum, daddy.”

“Mm, good girl. I just had to get a taste of your sweet cunt after seeing you shake and tremble like that. Such a good, pretty little girl.”

He was actually supposed to reward you after this. That was just his initial plan, until he is distracted by your phone suddenly ringing from the other side of the room. He quirks a brow up and starts heading to where your bag was placed, rummaging through it to get the device that interrupted the moment.

He reads the caller ID.

Jungkook is dead quiet as he reaches back to you until he takes a seat on your thighs. His silence further builds up your anxiousness, your gut twisting and turning after you hear him groan underneath his breath. “Daddy?” whispering, you tilt your head to the side to figure out what he was doing.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you picked up the phone,” Jimin speaks in a rush, “I was so worried about what happened. Are you and Jungkook okay?” He rolls his eyes and doesn’t hesitate to put the phone on loudspeaker, placing the device in front of you so that you can see who was calling.

Jimin’s voice unsettled you, leaving your body in a state of shock, humiliation, and awkwardness. You furiously shake your head, lips pursed in a straight, pungent line – making it known to Jungkook that you didn’t want to talk to him. Why can’t he just hang up?!

“Hello? Y/n?” As Jimin worries from the other side of the line, you quietly mewl when you feel him poking the tip of his dick right up against your dripping wet entrance, sliding the head up and down your soaked slit slowly to torture you. “Answer him,” Jungkook growls from behind, “Talk to him as I fuck your tight little pussy.”

“Y/n, do you hear me?” Jimin asks once again, and this time you pick up the courage to reply.

“Y-Yeah,” your voice strains, closing your eyes as you try your best not to moan out loud as Jungkook pushes the head in, feeling your walls flutter around his thick girth. “I hear – oohh – I hear you.”

While inching his cock further and further, he grasps your bounded wrists in one hand, as the other firmly holds onto your waist. He struggles to keep quiet, only releasing quick little grunts here and there as he slowly thrusts his hips. Your body squirms from the humiliating situation he has put you through, yet he holds you down.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier,” You notice the sad tone in Jimin’s voice, “I really didn’t mean to touch you like that, and I should’ve known better. You’re taken.”

“M-Mhmm—!” Jungkook shoves his length deeper and deeper, hit tip hitting your g-spot again and again, rougher and harder with each sharp thrust. Your eyes generate more tears, definitely making your nose a little bit stuffy while you struggle to breathe properly. Jungkook groans underneath his breath from how tight your pussy is after being teased and tortured.

Jimin continues with his apology, saying that he wants to personally apologize to Jungkook – but you weren’t listening anymore. You can’t! His words were going in one ear and out of the other because your mind only focuses on how his big, thick cock was tearing your cunt apart. With each outward stroke, your pussy keeps sucking him back in. He smirks from the way your pussy was gushing your arousal endlessly, soaking the sheets and making a mess of yourself.

As if everything can’t be humiliating enough, Jungkook blows a hard, loud spank on your ass, definitely not caring if it can be heard from the other end of the call. Gasping, you mewl from the stinging sensation but also worried if Jimin heard. Jungkook laughs menacingly, spanking your ass again.

“Y-Y/n?” Jimin says slowly, “What’s happening over there?”

“Nothing! I’m o-okay – mmngg shit,” your jaw drops when he fucks you faster and rougher all of the sudden, his balls starting to clap against your poor, throbbing clit. Jungkook feels impatient so he takes the phone back, puts it against his ear, and speaks for you. “Jimin!” he greets happily as if he’s not pounding your pussy until you break, “Don’t worry about Y/n, she’s doing just great.”

How can he talk so steadily like that? Your teeth sink down on your bruised bottom lip again to stop you from moaning too loud. “But I’m trusting you, Jimin, not to touch my girl like that again, okay? I know you two are friends, sure – but there’s a limit. She has a boyfriend now.”

The possessiveness in his voice turns you on so much, not even expecting such a dark tone as he talks to him like that. Your arms start to hurt after being tied for too long, wrists getting sensitive as it keeps scratching against the rope.

“Yeah, okay, goodbye.” He finally hangs up, throws your phone somewhere on the floor. After that, he firmly grips your waist and changes your position with ease. He sits down on the bed, flips you around to make you straddle his cock.

His breath almost gets stuck in his throat from the way you looked. His hands immediately flies to cup your head, thumbs wiping your tears away from your cheeks as you look down at his with lustful eyes. “Baby girl,” he whispers, eyes raking your body up and down while you don’t stop bouncing on his cock, “Keep crying. I wanna see you get ruined on my big cock.”

He pulls you closer by wrapping his right hand around your neck, squeezing tightly, as his other hand guides your hips up and down. Your hard nipples slightly graze against his chest, adding more pleasure than you already can take.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” you grit, eyes drooping, “I’m gonna fucking cum again, daddy.”

He chuckles and nods his head. He can’t stay angry at you for too long. He can’t wait to provide you the aftercare that you deserve after this. He helps you to your orgasm by meeting your thrusts, fucking his cock into you while he brings a hand down to rub your clit with vigor. Your moans were getting louder, higher in pitch, as you can feel the oh-so-familiar tightness in your stomach again. You throw your head back, hands trying to pry themselves out of the rope. Thankfully, he gives you the benefit of the doubt and finally starts undoing the knot, unwrapping your wrists so that they can finally be set free. “Here you go princess,” he groans, “Ah ah, keep your arms still.”

Within a second of your hands being free, you quickly hug his sweaty body so tightly, pressing your cheeks against his shoulder, not only to have something to hold onto but to feel his comfort after a long time of being suppressed and denied from it. Jungkook laughs and kisses your shoulder, “I love you, Y/n.”

“Love y-you— awh god, thatfeelssogood!”

“Yeah?” he bites his lip, feeling the urge to tease you with his words for the hundredth time, “How good?” He attaches his mouth on your damp neck, sucking and biting on all of the sweet and tender spots that he knows you love. Trailing kisses all over, you were certain that he’ll leave marks all over your skin. Your body shivers when he uses his teeth to bite down on you, adding more to the buildup of your climax. “So g-good, daddy,” you whine, bouncing up and down harder, “Your big cock f-feels…feels so good inside my tight fucking pussy, daddy.”

Jungkook’s cock throbs from your unexpected words, gasping a little with a cocky smirk, “Mmm, when did you learn how to talk like that, huh?” a spank lands on your right, tender ass cheek, “Such lewd words coming out of that pretty mouth.”

Your mind starts to feel dizzy, almost to the edge of blacking out as your orgasm overpowers your body. He grunts from the way your walls were clenching around him so firmly, using his dick to your own good. Wrapping his arms around you tighter, he forces you to stay still on his cock while letting you ride out your high. “There we go, baby, there we go. Cum for me,” he insinuates, “Fucking hell, such a good, pretty girl for daddy.” He lifts your chin up with one hand, trying your best to make eye-contact with him but your tearful eyes feel too heavy. “Cumming so hard, oh my fucking god darling.”

Almost seeing black and white spots, your mind goes into a frenzy for you have no thoughts but the overwhelming sensation of your climax taking over your body. Jungkook moans as he lays you back down on the bed, bringing himself to his high. With your body shivering from the high sensitivity, Jungkook doesn’t stop.

His thrusts were sloppy and his pace becomes unsteady, moans getting louder. His body tenses and goes still inside of you, trapping your small body in his as he blows his load. He fills your cunt up with his cum, painting your walls in his seed. You can feel him twitch while you claw your hands on his back, trembling.

Jungkook mutters a series of curse words as your pussy squeezes his cock so hard, milking him properly until the very last drop of cum. After a little while, he pulls his dick out and he sees his cum leaking out of your pulsating little hole and dripping onto the bed. Licking his lips from the hot sight, he caresses your inner thighs as he tries to calm you down.

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. Deep, slow breaths for me.” He hovers back on top of you as he places his right arm underneath your head for support, his other hand gently stroking your side. All the anger, all the controlling and dominating aura that he previously had ten seconds ago immediately fades as he takes the role to comfort you the best that he can. He wipes your cheeks clean with the back of his hand, almost looking down at you with a slight pout. “Baby girl, look at me, hm?” Jungkook whispers gently, “Look at me.”

Once you do so, he feels himself almost collapsing from the poor, worn-out look that was embedded on your little face. “Oh, sweetie,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”

“N-No,” you slowly shake your head, still breathless, “Don’t say…”

“I should’ve, fuck—” Jungkook tilts his head to the side in dismay, feeling almost frustrated in himself, “I should’ve fucking stopped, look at you baby.” He holds your hand, gives your bruised wrist a wet, long kiss.

“Kook, I’m okay,” you giggle, a hint of tiredness in your voice, “I l-loved it.”

“Are you sure? Baby girl do you remember what I told you? If you ever feel too uncomfortable, or pain that you couldn’t bear anymore, or if you just want me to stop completely, what will you say?”

Perhaps this was one of the best things you love about Jungkook. His duality. One minute he’s rough and would dominate the fuck out of you, and the next minute he’s treating you like his princess.

“I’ll say my safe word.”

“Good,” he kisses your lips once, smiling down at you, “always remember that.”

You were awfully thankful that he’s the type to always shower you in kisses after a whole round of sex. Always caring about your well-being, that’s what he loves to do. Jungkook has cleaned himself in the bathroom first before he can handle and take care of you. He comes out of the bathroom dressed only with a pair of gray sweatpants with a damp towel and one of his t-shirt in his hand.

Kneeling before you on the bed, he starts to gently wipe your inner thighs and genitalia with the cloth. It was ticklish on the spot of your inner thighs, releasing a giggle as you try to move away from him. He smirks, grasping your leg down. “Tickles?” he grins at you.

“Turn around, little one. Let me massage your back.”

Your heart beats happily at that. But once you followed his command, his eyes immediately fly down to your ass. He hikes up the skirt that you still had on a bit higher, and he sees his handprints imprinted on your precious, delicate skin. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. Your body twitches when he carefully lays a hand down. “Sorry for this, little one. Guess you aren’t sitting for a couple of days, huh?”

Hiding your face in your arms, you quietly squeal, his words having an effect on you. “I g-guess so.”

Jungkook proceeds with his mission to massage your back, using his big hands to his advantage to knead your skin with just the right amount of pressure, massaging your arms and shoulders, pressing down on your lower back. Little groans emit from your mouth, enjoying the warmth of his hands. Your eyes eventually close, feeling that you were eventually going to fall asleep from how relaxing it is.

“Want some tea, darling?” he asks.

“Mm, no thank you. I’m a little sleepy…”

Your mouth curves up into a grin when he starts peppering kisses all over your back as well, moving your hair to one side. Jungkook, too, was smiling. He can’t even figure out how he got so lucky with you.

“You wanna nap, Y/n?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay, let’s get you in this shirt first. C’mon sweetie, flip back around for me.”

He holds onto the hem of your skirt and tugs it down, throwing it somewhere on the floor. His shirt reaches almost on your knee after slipping it on. Soon, he lays down beside you and starts spooning your body. It was easy for him to enclose yourself in his warmth, for his limbs were obviously bigger than yours. “Let’s take a rest and clean everything up later, okay?”

Although you didn’t reply.

“Baby?” he tilts your head to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Kook, I-uh…I wanna say sorry for what happened earlier—”

“Shh, shh, settle down now, sweetheart. I’m not angry about that anymore,” he gives you a beaming smile, his dimples peeking through. Oh, to swim in someone’s dimples…

“Don’t worry about it. I love you, Y/n. More than this fucking world.”

“Impossible!” giggling, you eventually squirm around him because you know for a fact that he’ll hug you tighter.

He did.

“Nothing’s impossible when you’re mine – my girl.”

God, you can never take a break with him and his impeccable word choices. You feel your cheeks heat up, shying away from him that caused him to laugh in amusement a little.

“I love you too, Kook,” your heart says genuinely. Jungkook pulls you closer and makes you rest your head on his arm. “Cozy? Let’s take a rest, baby. You’ve had a long day today, you did well. You might be sore afterwards but I’ll be right here when you wake up.” The only thing you can remember after that was the gentle kiss he placed on your cheek, and the feeling of love and comfort in the air that encloses both of you.

“You know, Jungkook,” Taehyung speaks while munching on his Cap’n Crunch cereal, watching Jungkook come back to their apartment after driving you back to your own building. “You’re fucking lucky I was out partying. If not I would’ve…” Jungkook rolls his eyes when Taehyung fakes a gagging sound, “I w-would’ve thrown up hearing the two of you.”

“Funny,” he says blandly while heading towards the cupboards to make himself his own bowl of cereal.

Taehyung walks to his side, “Aren’t you and Y/n together for almost a year now? I don’t know much about relationships, but don’t you think it’s time for you guys to have a place of your own?”

Jungkook chuckles, heading towards the living room as he sits on the old green couch with his cereal on one hand. “So you’re kicking me out, Tae?”

“Well yeah, maybe I am, asshole.”

The youngest abruptly turns his head to him with a look of confusion, “Wait, really?”

Taehyung smirks, “Yup! I’m sick of you bringing Y/n here just to fuck, and not even let her hang out with me!”

Hang out with him? Since when was Taehyung interested in her? After a little moment of silence, Jungkook finally thinks of a reply, “What do you even wanna do with her? Also most of the time you’re either out getting drunk or locking yourself up in your room playing video games.”

“Threesome.”

Jungkook almost spits out the mouthful of milk and cereal.

“What the fuck—”

“Let’s have a threesome together.”

“No fucking way, bro.” Jungkook scoffs, pointing a finger at him, “We are not doing that.”

Taehyung was having the time of his life teasing Jungkook. He stands up in front of him, blocking his view of the TV. “I’m not having a threesome just to see you naked, cunt,” slowly, his mouth forms a smirk, “I wanna see Y/n nak—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that, Taehyung. I’m not fucking joking around.”

“Okay, shit, chill man,” he laughs, watching how Jungkook rolls his eyes. “And here I am thinking that you’re kinky and open-minded.”

Taehyung just loves to get into his nerves.

“I am,” Jungkook says in all seriousness, looking directly at his eyes. “But you know how I am with her. How selfish I can be. Other people will be fine with this, sure, but her body is for my eyes only, Tae. You can fuck anyone you like but not my girl.”

Taehyung sighs, walking away as he throws his hand in the air, “Fine, fine, whatever.”

Jungkook crosses his legs together, leaning back into the couch as he closes his eyes. The fact that he just had to put that image into his mind – someone else fucking his girl – he just can’t do it. He can be too possessive of your body and he wants it only for him.

“But if your girl ever wants two cocks to play with one day, hit me up.”

“If she wants two cocks then we’ll use a fucking dildo. Shut your ass up or else I’m gonna beat the fuck outta you,” Jungkook warns with a menacing chuckle.

Although Taehyung isn’t bothered by it, he fakes being frightened, “Oooohh, scary! Don’t hit me daddy!”

“Yep, that’s it.” Jungkook places the bowl down on the couch before abruptly standing up. Taehyung runs away while laughing like a madman with Jungkook following behind him. His roommate ends up locking himself inside his room where Jungkook can’t come in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He says in the middle of laughter.

“You’re fucking hideous, you know that?” Jungkook crosses his arms.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Jeon.”

When Jungkook turned nineteen, he remembered asking his mother when a man should introduce his girlfriend to his parents.

His mother, heart filled with genuine compassion, replied with; “When you are fully committed, and when you know for a fact that you will be spending the rest of your life with her – that’s when you let her eat at our table. So be very mindful of your feelings, Jungkookie. Remember this when you grow up, alright? I know you didn’t believe in long-lasting love when you were younger, but trust me when I say that it truly depends on the person.”

It was clear that Jungkook’s romantic side definitely came from his parents.

And fast-forward to the present, here you are sitting at their dining table, meeting his parents for the very first time.

“So, Y/n,” Jungkook’s mother beams from the other side of the table while passing her husband more rice for his bibimbap, “How did you and Jungkook meet?”

“Mom,” Jungkook chuckles, “Haven’t I told you that a hundred times already?”

You blush from his words, trying your best not to look down in shyness. Though you feel your boyfriend’s right hand rests on your knee to ease you up.

“I know! But I just want to hear it from Y/n’s point of view! Who knows, you might be hiding some details!”

Before you can speak, his dad talks before you, “I was actually there at the time,” he smiles at you, “I think you should thank me for making Jungkook talk to you!”

“Hun, please let Y/n talk—”

Jungkook grins, “I think I would’ve talked to Y/n whether or not you told me so, dad.”

“Let the girl talk!” his mom balls her hand into a fist and pounds on the table.

You busted out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth as you shook your head in disbelief. You’ve never encountered such a fun, happy family like this. This was your first time being introduced to someone’s parents, and truthfully, you wanted them to be your last.

“So, um,” you take a glance at Jungkook before continuing as if asking for permission first. He smiles down at you and nods his head, feeling his hand squeeze your knee. “Jeon’s Kitchen was actually a favorite place of mine! And of course, it’s still is—” you beam at his father, “It was raining very hard so I decided to stop by to eat some food before work.”

“Brown coffee and banana bread, yep, I remember that!” His dad proudly says.

“That’s correct, Mr. Jeon,” you giggle, “I sat alone and waited for the order until Jungkook here suddenly bursts into the café, all drenched from the rain!” You turn your gaze at him with creased eyes from the way you were smiling as you talk, “If I remember correctly, his car broke down and he had nothing to do, so he decided to help Mr. Jeon with work, is that right?”

Jungkook responds with a hum, staring amusingly into your glimmering eyes that were full of love.

“Until Mr. Jeon told Jungkook to keep me company! So yeah, that’s where we started talking.”

Of course, you had to leave out the fact that you had such an intimidating first impression of their son. You recall how hard his stare was as he talked to you, and how he literally made you blush so easily just by his handsome smirk (that until now you couldn’t get used to!). He carried such a strong aura, even up to this day.

“After that, well, we exchanged numbers and everything went from there!”

Before Jungkook drove you to his parent’s house so that they can finally meet you, you were an absolute nervous wreck. Overthinking that what if you say something embarrassing? What if you humiliate yourself in front of them? You were driven to have a good impression on them, which Jungkook founded adorable. Of course, he reassured you, saying, “They already love you from all of the stories I’ve told, baby.”

And he was right. His parents never would’ve thought that a girl like you would walk into his life. You’re a blessing for their son.

Jungkook doesn’t sway his eyes off of you as you continue to chat with his parents, telling them your goals and dreams for the future. He watches the way your mouth tilts into the prettiest smile he’s ever seen, lips tinted with lipstick that was just begging to be kissed. He also catches the way your head slightly tilts as you talk, oh – he can’t forget how your knees were nervously jumping! With his hand slowly caressing your knee up to your thigh, he reminds you to calm down.

His breath hitches up a slight bit when you unexpectedly hold his hand under the table. He feels how cold your hand was so it was good for you to take his own warmth. Using his thumb, he strokes your skin delicately, and you instantly feel much better.

When the time is right and when he garners enough money, he will buy a house for the two of you. It doesn’t have to be fancy or anything elegant, but enough to keep you happy and contented – he knows you’ll understand that. Needless to say, he’s excited about the future he’s going to have with you. His mind wanders to the point of your first anniversary, the second anniversary, even up until marriage and having kids. It’s a huge stretch, yes, but he’d rather spend his life alone than without you.

If his past self can read his mind right now, he’d definitely laugh.

He can’t wait to live his whole life with you by his side. You already have all the qualities he’s been looking in a person, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to leave you anytime soon.

His mother’s voice cracks him from his thoughts, “Y/n’s such a pretty girl. So amusing to look at, too!” She gawks at you with excited, wide eyes. Her eyes reminded you of Jungkook, the same big and round ones, “Next time when you come to visit us, let me teach you my signature shrimp fried rice recipe, okay? Are you allergic to shrimp, Y/n?”

“Nope! I love shrimp!”

“That’s great!” his mom claps, “Jungkook, thanks for bringing Y/n here with us. She’s so wonderful.”

Shaking your head, you try to take her compliments as much as you can but of course, your bashfulness takes over.

Your boyfriend removes his hand from yours, only lifts it up so that his arm can rest at the backrest of the chair while he starts to stroke your head lovingly. The corners of his lips tilts up to form a smile, he feels as if fireworks were going off of his whole body, for he was so in love with you. How can a person love someone this much?

He mutters the next sentence underneath his breath, thus only he and his pounding heart can hear; “That’s my girl.”

The End.

Thank you so much for all of the amazing support for Crybaby! I never expected so much love and anticipation in the first place. I wrote Crybaby without any serious plot with a ‘tragedy/problem’ in mind, for it was only supposed to be a oneshot haha! Crybaby was mainly about the fact that Jungkook has dacryphilia and that’s it. But thanks to the support I’ve gotten, I made a part two and three! It’s sorta sad to end this series because I know a lot of people (including me) love this couple soo much! But they’ll make an appearance in short drabbles or even kinky hours. I’m sorry for the sudden ending, but this will not be the end for them!

Please tell me what you think by commenting or sending an ask, I really love to read your reactions!

Please stay safe, especially in these times. Remember that you are loved, and please be happy. I love you!

#jungkook smut #dom jungkook #btsbookclub #btsguild #btswriterscollective #bangtansmutcentral #jungkook hot #jungkook daddy

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dabis-azure-songbird · 2 years

Note

Hello Halo Hello! I hope your new years were boisterous and wonderful! I do have a request for yah if you don't mind granting it. Okay I had this in my head for like years rent free! Could I request a Bakugou x Male turned Female s/o who is goofy and geeky to the max! Like they're a silly pervert and all! XD. So the scenario is that, Bakugou's boyfriend gets turned into a girl for quite a while and bakubaby has to live with his pent up situation. . . He wants to fuck damn it! but he actually wants to be the one putting his dick in this time. (Since in my mind Bakugou is a bottom who wants to try being a top for once) but he's nervous about what his boyfriend... Girlfriend??? Will say.

I just want some silly boner moments from Bakugou getting turned on by his boyfriends female body, and s/o is just oblivious to it.

Either way Bakugou gets the courage to talk to his s/o. And s/o just says "oooohhh you silly goose~ of course I don't mind it! After all I'm gonna stay like this for a while!"

[ I hope this was okay, I dunno, I just have a mighty need for a fic like this. If you could also add some praise and a belly buldge, since they be my kinks, I would appreciate it...

GOD I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY! now I just feel nervous 😅]

Hello my dear! I am so so sorry this took me forever to write. Hopefully it was worth the wait and everything you desired and more! I hope you enjoy. I tried to follow your instructions. Of course this was okay! Everything is ok in my book as long as it's consensual. :) Minors please do not interact and if you click "keep reading" you're taking full responsibility for the blinding afterwards. xD

Request for @quirkyhero a.k.a @kitteylove

Pairing: Bakugou x Male turned Female Reader!

KAPOOF! Y/N coughed as the plume of smoke billowed around them and their boyfriend, Bakugou, yelled out to them.

But, Y/N stared at his hand oddly on…wait? Her chest? What? Those did not look like the normal pecs he usually had. Bakugou rushed to them, in a slight panic that he would not arrive in time.

"Y/N, are you alr-" Bakugou's voice tapered off as he took in the new appearance of his S/O.

"I think so…" Y/N said, carefully palming the soft mounds of flesh of his chest.

"But you have…"

"Boobs!"

"W-wait! Does that mean…THAT too?"

Y/N's eyes widened as they gingerly pulled the waistband of their pants out and took a peek down.

"…Yup!"

"So any idea when they'll…go back to normal?" "I'm sorry; I honestly don't have an answer for that one. We don't know what the cure or reversing factor is." Recovery Girl replied.

This was driving Katsuki nuts! Not only was his curiosity killing him, but his body was even more curious too! What would you feel like? He'd have to take the initiative and actually top you this time, right?

The thoughts sent his brain in overload.

The first time you were taking a shower and it was completely natural to Bakugou to bring in a towel or extra change of clothes if you'd forgotten them, no problem. No thoughts. He could control himself most of the time.

But this was the first time you were like….THIS! His carmine eyes trailed carefully over your form behind the curtain. And when you caught his gaze, he thought his ears were about to pop off. "See something you like, stud? It's kind of fun having this body." Katsuki nearly choked on his saliva.

"WHAT!?"

Cue a boisterous giggle from you and a silky leg cautiously teasing its way from behind the curtain.

"Oh Katsuki! Don't you wanna shower with me?~ You usually love to hop in and help me wash."

A low, soft growl from Bakugou as he shifted uncomfortably in a pair of his grey sweatpants was heard.

"I…You…HUFF!"

He turned on his heels rapidly and stomped out of the room.

If only you knew how much you had been really teasing him. You were so oblivious and it was making Bakugou even more moody than his usual.

Even just the slightest brush against him was enough to get him riled up at times. Which frustrated the hell out of him, quite frankly.

You were standing in the kitchen after just dropping your backpack down.

"So what do you think we should have for dinner tonight, Bakuhoe?" "I AM NOT a 'Bakuhoe'! …I don't know."

His dark eyes were staring at your back before they trailed down carefully to the yoga pants you'd been wearing lately when just lounging at home. He went to step behind you and rest his head on your shoulder to look, when you happened to press back a bit to crane your head to look and brushed against him just right. OH, so right.

A slight gasp of surprise escaped his lungs and he found himself stepping back and carefully cupping the slight bulge you'd surprised him with.

"You've been acting weird lately…What's up with you, Bakuhoe?" A low, feral growl rumbled from Katsuki's throat as he finally felt the courage bubble up, along with more of his frustration. "Dammit! You've been flustering me the entire week you've been like this! The slightest brushes against me, the way you look…! We haven't…haven't…"

You stared at him, blinking slowly.

"This is new, isn't it? Oh, you silly goose! I don't mind! We can still do that! Who knows how long I'll be like this, after all?"

"R-Really? You'll try?"

"Of course, you temperamental dork. Cmere." You giggled. Bakugou stepped closer to pull you into his arms and blushed softly as he stared at you, but you started giggling. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?" "I don't know. I can't help it. Girly feelings, I guess."

"Shhh, 'girly'." Bakugou teased before his lips softly and slowly collided with yours.

This really was new to him. From making you part your lips to his advances, to parting your thighs and cautiously caressing them. "…I wonder if it'll hurt."

"I was thinking the same. I'll be careful."

You shuddered softly as the heat of Bakugou's breath ghosted over the new delicateness at the apex of your thighs. Bakugou's mouth soon covered it, suckling and softly laving against the gentle bud. A soft groan of his filled the air.

"You're so sweet, my rose."

Heat swiftly made its way into your cheeks.

"Bakugo…I'm getting nervous." "Shut up, sweetheart. I'm going to take good care of you."

Bakugo swallowed roughly as he finally released the throbbing heat from his sweatpants and carefully coated himself in the slick and his saliva. The sensation felt so different and weird…in a special and new way, that wasn't unwelcome. Your breath softly shallowed as he slowly breached your entrance.

At most there was slight discomfort and a tiny bit of pain at most, but Bakugo was sure to keep your attention with soft and passionate kisses and sensual slides of his hands up and down your sides. "That's my good darling. Are you ok? You're doing so well. Tell me if you need anything."

You nodded and your breath shuddered as he pressed himself fully into the hilt, causing a bit of a bulge in your abdomen. You gasped as you gently placed your hand over it and whimpered softly. Bakugo's carmine eyes followed yours softly and he licked his lips hungrily. "Fuck, that's sexy my darling. Look at you swallowing my cock. So full your little body can barely take it now."

As he began to move, your eyes slowly rolled back and you moaned lowly as the bulge disappeared only to be replaced as he thrusted himself back into the confines of your body. You lost yourself to the new sensations as well as Bakugo. His arms shook softly as he held you tight to him and continued his passionate assault on your senses. You could hear your blood in your ears as your impending orgasm began to hit and the whimper that left your lips caught Bakugo's attention in his haze.

"Oh? Are you going to cum? Are you going to reward me, baby? Cum for me. I want to see you fall apart."

His hand softly slipped between the two of you to rub at your gentle bud in circles with his thrusts. You began to lose it and when your body tightened and spasmed around his length, he almost lost it too. Bakugo's forehead came to rest against yours as he rode your orgasm out before he found his own blindingly and growled lowly against you.

"Fuck. Boy or girl, you will always be absolutely perfect for me. I love you." He kissed your forehead softly as he gently withdrew and held you close in your afterglow.

"I love you too, my silly goose…but we might have to do that again…in another position maybe?"

A giggle from you and Bakugo chuckled and nodded.

"Anything for someone as amazing as you."

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha imagines #bnha smut #bakugo x you

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

How Drunk Are You? (Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Summary: You and your best friend, Stiles, can’t decide who’s more drunk after a night out with the pack. It doesn’t take long for your little competition to get out of hand.

Word count: 4,752

Warnings: drunk (but consensual) sexy times

Notes: I got this idea while drunk and may have gotten a little carried away but this one really just spoke to me so here ya go 😅

———————————————————————

You tumble out of the Uber, nearly falling flat on your face before a firm hand juts out of the car to steady you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Stiles chuckles from behind you as he steps out onto the sidewalk. “You’re way more fucked up than I thought.”

You twirl around to face him, nearly losing your balance for the second time. You furrow your brows and poke a finger into his chest harshly.

“You, sir, are wrong. I’m completely sober.” You wobble a bit in your heels, and he just rolls his eyes before slamming the car door shut and waving off your driver.

He takes only one step forward before his knees buckle, almost sending him crumpling to the ground beside you. He puts a hand on your shoulder to steady himself, breaking into a fit of giggles at his own intoxicated state. He’s trying to be the responsible one but honestly, he may be more gone than you.

You can’t help but laugh along with him as you help each other to your front door. Once there, you try turning the knob before realizing with a huff that you have to unlock it first. You let go of Stiles, who nearly loses his balance again, to rummage through your purse for the keys.

The bag suddenly seems endless as you shove receipts, sticks of gum, lip gloss, and other random shit out of the way to find your keychain. Finally, after what feels like several minutes to your drunk brain, you find them.

“Ah ha!” You call triumphantly and hold them up against your dim porch light.

“Hey. I’ll prove I’m more sober.” Stiles perks up with an idea, his caramel eyes dancing with amusement. “I bet I can unlock the door without looking.”

A laugh bubbles in your chest at the image of him doing that, and you instantly hand him the keys. You don’t think he’s actually coherent enough to succeed, but you know it’ll be entertaining to watch him try.

He waggles his eyebrows at you as he takes the keys and turns so that his back is to the door. He fumbles around blindly, chewing on his bottom lip in concentration. Your breathing slows as your eyes track the movement. You swallow thickly, feeling the familiar attraction you have for your best friend—that you usually keep tightly packed away—rise to the surface.

Admittedly, you’re a horny drunk. You can’t help but flirt with everyone and anyone you encounter while out partying, including your best friends that you’d never consider sleeping with, not even while intoxicated. But Stiles was a different story.

You’d been attracted to the spaz since you met him freshman year, although it was clear nothing was going to happen due to his obsession with a certain raven haired beauty. That was a couple years ago at this point, and he’d moved on, but the two of you were much too close to act on any lingering feelings now.

You laugh again as he continually fails to unlock the door, and decide to help him out. You lean forward, your chest only an inch away from his, and wrap your fingers around his hand. He stiffens against you, but you don’t notice through your drunk haze.

You peer over his shoulder and guide the key to where it needs to be, easily unlocking the door within seconds.

“You lose.” You quip, standing up straight to smirk at him before popping the door open and skipping inside.

What you don’t see is the way Stiles stands there for several moments collecting himself. You hadn’t even done anything, he thought. You’d barely touched him and here he was, clutching his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart. He was so screwed, being alone with you right now, but he was also way too drunk to do anything about it.

He clears his throat and finally walks inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Even while completely plastered, he knows a random supernatural creature could attack at any moment. Not that a wooden door would do much to keep them out, but the action was just muscle memory at this point.

He finds you lounging on the couch, your legs dangling over the armrest. He scratches at the side of his head as his eyes trail over you, trying his best not to make his simmering lust obvious. You were easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and that was when you were wearing sweats.

Right now, with you laying there, your skirt riding up and your breasts peaking out from the low neckline of your crop top, he was finding it hard to control his attraction.

“It’s my turn.” You push yourself up onto your elbows and let your eyes sweep around your living room and kitchen. “I bet I can make the fries I have in my freezer without burning the whole place down.”

Stiles groans excitedly at the idea. Anything greasy sounds like the absolute best thing he could put into his stomach right now. He nods encouragingly and you sway to your feet, giggling as you almost fall once again. You take a detour and slide your heels off at the front door, sighing with content as your feet finally relax.

He follows close behind you as you prance your way into the kitchen, telling himself it’s to keep you safe but knowing it’s actually because it gives him an amazing view of your ass. You preheat the oven and pop the freezer open before crouching down to rummage through your cabinets for a pan.

Stiles wants to avert his eyes. He wants to be a respectable young man and not openly gawk at his best friend, but he can see the edge of your red lacy panties with you bending over like that. He chews on his bottom lip and watches as you search for whatever it is you’re looking for. He can’t even remember what you’re supposed to be doing with your body on display like that.

You finally find the right pan for the job and pull it out with a triumphant smile before standing upright, much to Stiles’ dismay. You place the baking sheet on the stovetop and pour out a heaping pile of fries before resealing the bag and putting them away.

You turn on your heel to face your best friend, who was still somewhat in a daze, giving him jazz hands with a big grin.

“Ta-da!” You bounce your way over to the large island in the middle of your kitchen, proud of yourself for completing the first step of your bet.

Stiles’ hooded eyes follow you, his heart racing in his chest. He honestly can’t believe how lucky he is to call you his best friend. The two of you—along with the pack of course—had gone through so much the last few years. It was a miracle any of you were still alive, although not all of you were.

It was with the realization, that life is short and that he loves the shit out of you, that he decides to throw caution to the wind. You jump up onto the island, blissfully unaware of the breakthrough he just made. He gulps, the sight of you level with him now, your mini skirt all hiked up around your thighs and your tight crop top giving him a peak of midriff almost too much to handle.

He isn’t sure if he’ll regret this in the morning, but he’s also too drunk to care. Right now, he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything. He walks toward you slowly, his eyes trailing up and down your form as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

Your brows furrow at his sudden change in demeanor, the darkness swirling in his caramel eyes too hard to decipher from this distance. You watch closely as he moves forward until he’s only a foot away. He leans down, still taller than you even while you’re sitting on the counter, each of his hands bracing against the marble beside your hips.

“Stiles...?” Your voice trials off in question as you search his face.

“I bet,” He swallows down the last bit of hesitation bubbling in his throat and lets his eyes flutter down to your lips. “You won’t kiss me right now.”

Your breath catches at his words. Your eyes widen and you aren’t even sure you heard him correctly. Your mind instantly starts racing with questions. Is he just saying this because he’s drunk? Or could he possibly return the feelings you’ve been harboring for years?

To be completely honest, you don’t really care. You’ve wanted him for so long, and he looks ridiculously enticing in his red flannel and black bomber jacket. It was the alcohol that made you do it, sure, but it was more so the fact that you’ve wanted to kiss this man since you met him.

You cup the sides of his face and jerk him down to you, closing those last few inches. Your lips wrestle with his and he stiffens against you as if surprised, despite being the one to initiate this. The kiss isn’t pretty. It’s messy and heated. A battle of tongues and teeth as both of you fight for dominance.

One of his hands moves to your exposed knee, the other gripping your waist firmly. He lets out a broken moan against you, his head tilting to give him more room to devour you. Your hands tangle in his hair and you arch into him as his long fingers tentatively slide beneath the edge of your crop top.

Internally, he’s freaking the fuck out. He didn’t think you’d actually do it. He fully expected you to laugh the bet off and move on, but here you are. Kissing the shit out of him. He knows that he will never be able to come back from this moment. No matter what happens after this, he has to have you.

You pull away first, breathless, not from the kiss itself but because it’s him. It’s Stiles. Your best friend. You’re honestly a little surprised that he’s such a good kisser. Sure, he’s had girlfriends over the years, but damn.

The two of you sit painfully still for several moments. Stiles is afraid that if he moves even an inch, he’ll break whatever spell had come over you. He leans forward minutely, desperately wanting to kiss you again, but you press a hand to his chest and practically shove him away.

His eyes widen as he stumbles back, nearly falling to the floor, panic tightening in his chest. Did he fuck up? You regret it already? Is everything ruined forever?

You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. His hair is all wild, his cheeks are flushed, his lips are plump and glistening. He’s sex on legs, and you’ve barely even gotten a taste. That one kiss is all it took to ignite the lust that’d been simmering within you all night.

You pull in a shaky breath, knowing that if you’re ever going to make a move, it has to be right now.

“I bet,” You say slowly, your voice low and sultry as you watch his eyes flicker over your face. “I can make you hard without even touching you.”

Stiles sputters silently, brain short circuiting at your words. He’s frozen in place. He wants to pump a fist into the air because this is actually happening but his muscles won’t move. He just nods, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

You giggle at his dumbstruck expression as you jump down from the island, the food on the stove completely forgotten. The edge of your lips twitch up into a smirk when you take a small step toward him and he stiffens. A surge of confidence moves through you at the sight of unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You hold his gaze as you grip the edge of your top and peel it over your head slowly. You’re suddenly very grateful that past you chose to wear your favorite matching red lacy set. Stiles’ eyes instantly trail down your exposed torso, although they keep flickering back to your breasts as if unable to look away.

You run your hands slowly along your shoulders, over your chest, and down your stomach. Stiles watches every one of your movements like they’re supplying the air he needs to breathe. You push your thumbs into the waistband of your mini skirt and pull it down a fraction of an inch before letting it go with a snap against your skin.

Stiles jumps at the sound, his glazed eyes locked onto the place your hands had just been. You take a few steps toward him, swaying slightly, and can’t help but giggle. This situation really is pretty ridiculous. You’re in your kitchen, preforming a strip tease for your best friend. It’s not something you ever thought you’d do.

You don’t stop until you’re only inches away from his heaving chest. You bat your eyelashes up at him and turn around so your back is just a hairs length from him. You bend over slowly, flicking your hair over your shoulder to look up at him as you wiggle your hips sensually.

You hear his shaky intake of breath and can’t help but smirk. If you’d known the effect you had on him, you would’ve done this years ago. He’s absolutely itching to touch you. His fingers are twitching at his sides in anticipation, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries.

He wants to take you. To claim you as his. Pull you back against him and ravish you like the goddess you are. But he holds himself back. The ball is in your court, and he’s going to let you have your fun until he’s sure you’re ready for him.

You stand up straight and turn to face him, eyes skimming down to the obvious bulge at the front of his jeans. A slow smile pulls at your lips.

“You lose again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. You’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll break this tension, this electricity between you.

It’s at this moment that he snaps, his earlier thoughts instantly forgotten. He just can’t take it anymore. He’s been restraining himself for years and right now, after the show you just gave him, he can’t wait even a second longer to have you.

At once, you’re in his arms. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, sliding his palms down the backs of your legs before hiking them up around his waist. You squeal against him and tighten your thighs to hold yourself up.

His hands are on your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he blindly walks both of you toward the stairs. He doesn’t need to look. He has the entire layout of your house memorized after being here almost daily for years. He clambers up to the second floor, staggering and pausing a few times to deepen your kisses.

You feel feverish. His skin on yours is causing some sort of reaction. You’re burning up, hot crackling desire twisting in your stomach. You don’t even realize that he shoves his way through your bedroom door until he tosses you onto your bed. You bounce a few times, bracing your hands on the soft mattress to keep yourself upright.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him at the foot of your bed. He’s looking at you with this heat, this need. It makes you want to give him anything he asks for. You’re his, whether he knows it yet or not. You’re completely gone for your spaz of a best friend.

He suddenly takes a step forward and grips your ankles in each of his hands. He jerks you toward him until your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulls them apart and stands between them before dropping to his knees. Your eyes widen knowingly, a spark of excitement igniting in your chest.

“I bet I can make you cum in less than five minutes.” He smirks at the awestruck expression overtaking your face.

You nod your head enthusiastically, wanting nothing more than for him to ease the throbbing need between your legs. He runs his fingers up your shins, torturously slow, before stopping to squeeze your thighs gently. His eyes never leave yours as he moves higher and higher, dangerously close to exactly where you want him.

Stiles leans up and connects your lips again, this time a languid kiss as he lightly guides you down to the bed. You prop yourself up onto your elbows as he peppers gentle kisses down the column of your throat. A shudder moves through you at the feeling of his hair brushing against your heated skin as he moves across your collarbone.

He traces a path down your chest, stopping at your breasts to lap at your hardened nipples. You moan loudly, the feeling of his warm breath against you, along with the course material of your lacy bra enough to make you cum on its own.

He moves lower and lower until his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your skirt. His lips never leave you as he tugs it down over your hips before discarding it somewhere on the floor behind him. Your panties quickly join the pile as you shiver on your bed, dripping core now exposed to the chilly air of your bedroom.

Stiles’ darkened eyes flicker up toward yours as he parts your thighs and dives between them. You cry out when his tongue expertly brushes your clit, throwing your head back against the mattress. One of his hands glides up to squeeze your hip, while the other teases your entrance.

A pitiful whimper escapes you when he inserts a finger. It’s so long and thick and wow you’re really doing this with your best friend. He groans against you, sending delicious vibrations through your body. One of your hands tangles in his hair, pulling harshly when he flicks his tongue against your sensitive bud again.

You steal a glance down toward him and feel your heart swell at the look he’s giving you. His eyes are shining with adoration as he laps at your core like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your eyes roll back when he pushes another finger inside you and starts pumping them quickly. You feel your stomach tightening already as his free hand snakes up to pinch your nipples delicately.

“Stiles...” You murmur breathlessly, back arching as another wave of pleasure crashes down onto you.

He nearly explodes in his jeans at the sound of his name on your lips like that. His eyes pinch shut as he tries to reel in his own desire so he can fully focus on you. He groans against you at the feeling of your core clenching around his fingers. He pulls them almost completely free before slamming them back inside, smirking at the way it makes you whine.

All it takes is one more lick against your clit, and you’re coming. You cry out, your body trembling from head to toe as intense waves of pleasure move through you. Stiles can’t help but moan at the sound as his free hand slides across your stomach to push you down against the bed.

He doesn’t stop until you sag against the mattress, completely spent. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand as a big grin overtakes his face. He’s been wanting to do that for way too long, and honestly can’t believe it just happened for real. He’s imagined it enough times to know it would be amazing, but that had exceeded his expectations.

You’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. All sweaty, flushed chest heaving, pupils blown wide from pleasure that he gave you. A sense of pride swells in his chest at the fact that he was able to make you feel so good.

Once you snap out of your blissful haze, you sit upright and jerk him toward you. You hungrily devour his lips, not feeling the least bit satiated by that mind blowing orgasm. You want—no, need—him. Right now.

He clambers up onto the bed, one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head as he climbs on top of you. You slide your hands along his shoulders beneath his flannel and practically rip it from his body. Next comes his undershirt, followed by the belt around his waist.

Your shaky hands fumble with the button of his jeans for a few seconds before he bats them away to undo it himself. Within seconds they’re gone too, joining the pile of clothes on your carpeted floor. You drag your fingers down his broad chest, pausing over the small patch of hair between his pecks.

He shudders against you, lips leaving yours to suck and lick his way down your neck. You palm him through his boxers and he grunts lowly, stiffening at the feeling. A trembling sigh falls past your lips as you explore his hard length through the thin fabric.

Suddenly impatient, you use both hands to pull the barrier down, eyes widening as his cock springs free. It’s so much bigger than you imagined. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about your best friend’s dick, but it still hadn’t prepared you for the real thing.

You wrap your fingers around him and he freezes against you. He presses his forehead to your shoulder as you pump him slowly. A moan rumbles through your chest at the feeling of him so exposed, so primal on top of you.

All he can do is huff out a few quick gasps as just your fingers set his body ablaze. He honestly feels like he might combust with the way his heart is sputtering in his chest. It takes every ounce of his willpower to peel your fingers away from him. He knows he won’t last long and he desperately wants to be inside you.

“Can I...is it okay if...” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. He’s so tightly wound, so high off your presence that he can barely string his thoughts together.

“I have condoms.” You breathe, trying to convey with your eyes how much you want this. How much you want him.

He swallows thickly, hesitating for only a moment before sliding onto the floor to rummage through the bedside table you’d gestured toward. He pulls out a single foil packet and moves to sit next to you on the bed. He glances between his shaky hand and your eyes, suddenly needing reassurance.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He breathes, heart clenching in his chest at the possibility of you saying no.

Even if you do, he has to give you this moment to decide. He’s painfully aware that both of you are very intoxicated and may regret this in the morning. But he also knows that he’s wanted you for years and it might just kill him to stop now.

You trail your fingers along the side of his face, eyes rounding at the respect he has for you. You really love the idiot sitting in front of you, a realization that makes you lean forward and close the distance between you.

“Stiles,” You mumble against his lips. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”

His eyes widen in shock at your urgency and he chuckles, tearing the small package open and rolling the condom on quickly. He reconnects your lips and pushes you down onto the bed gently. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his skull.

Your head tilts back, a long moan escaping you as he enters you in one swift motion. His eyes pinch shut tightly as he braces a hand against your headboard to steady himself. All he can do is grunt and gasp for air as your heat clenches around him. After only a few trusts, he knows he’s going to explode any minute.

He slides an arm under your arched back and turns you both so that he’s now laying on the mattress. Your knees settle on either side of his thighs and his brows furrow as he grips your hips tightly.

“Please...” Stiles groans, not even sure what he’s asking for. You’re everywhere. Around him, on top of him, your delicious smell is enveloping his every sense with his head on your pillow. It’s all too much.

You press your palms onto his chest and swirl your hips, pulling a broken moan from him. You lift yourself up before gliding back down slowly, wanting to see how long you can tease him before he’ll snap. The memory of the way he’d lost control earlier has your core clenching around him. You want to see that again.

“Y/N, I c-can’t...”

You lean down to steal a quick kiss, almost instantly reading his mind. He flips you over again, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip as he starts pounding into you, hard. Your head knocks into the headboard with each of his jerky movements, but you don’t care.

Your stomach tightens and you whimper, not expecting to cum again so quickly. None of your other partners had ever gotten you off more than once in a session. Stiles brings a hand down blindly to rub quick circles over your clit and you cry out against his lips.

Within seconds, you’re both tumbling over the edge, a chorus of moans and shaky breathing the only sound in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He collapses onto the bed beside you, chest heaving as he tries to make sense of what the fuck just happened. The lustful haze is clearing from his mind as his orgasm fades away. He’s left laying there, his best friend—who he just fucked—only inches away.

He lets his eyes trail over to you slowly, honestly terrified of what he’ll find. He needs to know what you’re thinking. His eyes search yours, but they’re guarded. Unreadable. He instantly starts panicking, heart sputtering in his chest as he bolts upright and quickly discards the condom in your trash can.

Your brows furrow from your position beside him, surprised by his sudden movement. A wave of exhaustion comes over you. It’s a mixture of the alcohol and the mind blowing sex you just had, and all you want to do is sleep it off.

You reach forward to clasp a hand around Stiles’ wrist, stopping him just before he stands from the bed. “Where are you going?”

Your heart falls into your stomach at the thought of him trying to run away from what you’d just done. There wasn’t a single part of you that regretted it. You wanted to do that since you met the idiot, so there was no way you’d be going back on it now.

You honestly didn’t even care if the two of you ever slept together again. You just needed him in your life. You weren’t going to let him disappear on you just because you gave into a night of passion.

“Oh. I-I didn’t know if you...you know, would want...” He stammers, eyes widening at the frown on your face. Maybe he misread the situation.

“Of course I want you to stay, you big dork.” You chuckle, tugging on his arm again.

His lips twitch into a grin, relief washing over him. He crawls back into the bed, peeling your comforter away so that you can join him beneath the warmth. You instantly curl into his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a familiar gesture. You’d cuddled many times before, but never like this. Never naked.

Stiles tries thinking of anything else to fight off his growing erection. Now was not the time for round two. You were basically asleep against him, your breath slowing to an even rhythm. He pulls you in tighter and lets his eyes flutter closed, knowing there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The last thought that flickers through his mind before he drifts off is that he could definitely get used to this new aspect of your relationship. He only hoped, come morning, that you’d feel the same.

#stiles stilinski #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles x y/n #stiles #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #teen wolf smut #stiles stilinski fic #stiles smut #dylan obrien smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien imagine #teen wolf #stiles x reader

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

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Biggest Regret

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: This one wasn't a request. I have Billy on the brain so much that I literally woke up and this popped into my head as I was laying there trying to fully wake up and I had to write it lmao It's just a little thing. A letter from Billy to you. I know a lot of you guys might want a part two for it, the resolution to the letter and there's a few ways it could go. So if anyone asks for a part two, let me know how you want it. Angsty? Fluffy? A mix? And I'll see what the general consensus is. I already have a slight idea about it but I wanna know what you guys want.

Also this is my AU dreamland where Billy didn’t betray Frank looool

Warnings: cursing, angst, sadness and regret from Billy. Talks of pregnancy and babies and abandonment.

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Y/N,

I know it's been a while and I don't even know if you still live where you did back then or if you'll get this. I'd say some shit like I hope you're doing well, which I am, but… I know you won't want to hear it.

I'm overseas again right now with Anvil. Me and Frank are taking point on a serious mission we're doing. Anvil's doing pretty well right now and we just got a contract from the CIA which is how we ended up here. Being out here like this, it reminds me of being deployed. Part of me missed it, I guess.

It's given me a lot to think about. It's funny how life and death situations do that to you, puts it all in perspective. And I know… I know you probably hate me and I don't blame you but I just hope if you do get this letter that you at least read it all.

I never should have walked away last year. I used to think I was a brave man, I mean the shit I've faced in the marines and with Anvil… I never backed down and I always fought. But with this. With you and the baby, I tucked tail and ran and I'll never forgive myself for that.

Honestly, I was terrified. I didn't think I could be the man you and the baby needed. I don't know what it's like to have loving parents and I hate myself so much for walking away. I don't want to do to my own kid what my mom did to me. I don't want them to grow up thinking I don't care, that I don't want them. It was never about that. I was never angry you were pregnant, I was never resentful. I was just scared that I'd fuck it up beyond repair so I got out of there before I had the chance.

I should have been there for you, Y/N. I should have been there to hold your hair from your face when you got sick. To go out at 3am and get you pickles or whatever the fuck it is that pregnant women love to eat. I should have been there with you at the birthing classes and the scans and the appointments. I should have been there to hold your hand in the delivery room, to tell you what an amazing job it is you're doing. I should have been there to hold my kid when they came into the world. To be there for you and them.

I can't take that back. I can't rewind time and be there and I wish I could. I don't know anything about my own baby which hurts the shit outta me and it's my own fault. I don't know if they're a boy or girl, how old they are. I know they'll roughly be a few months old based on when I walked away but that's about it. Do they look more like me or you? Are they a happy or fussy baby? This is the shit that's been running through my head out here. Fuck… I don't know if…. I don't even know if you kept the baby and that shit hurts too deep to even consider. But I know you well enough. Or at least I think I do. And I don't think you would have done that. As much as it would kill me inside, if you did I wouldn't blame you. I'd left you all alone to deal with it and I know neither of us planned a kid.

Frankie was the one who told me to write this. He's been putting up with me nonstop the last month of us being out here crying talking about you and the baby. He and Maria miss you, the kids too. Maybe that alone should have told me back then how important you were to me. I'd never introduced any of the girls I slept with to them, but it just felt natural to me back then. I'd wanted to. I couldn't even see just how much you meant to me.

It's like they always say, you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone. And I didn't know just how much I cared about you until that day I walked away and I fucking miss you, Y/N. Frank and Maria always ask if I'd heard anything about the baby or if I've reached out and it breaks my heart every time with how disappointed they are. I guess I never really thought they'd be excited for me to have a kid. But they're my family, of course they would be.

Frank roughed me up, you know that? I didn't tell him right away about the baby. He'd ask about you and I told him we decided it wasn't working like the coward I am. But then a few weeks after I told him the truth. He clocked me in the jaw, yanked me around as he yelled about how stupid and selfish I was. And I let him. He was right and I deserved it. I don't think I've ever seen Frankie so mad before and that's saying something.

I know I should have reached out sooner, but being out here on the front lines like this, it reminds me of how fleeting life can be. And I wish it didn't take something extreme like that to give me the balls to man up and write this to you but I think we've all established I'm not as brave as I once thought I was.

I have no right asking you for anything, I know that. But I miss you and I want to be a part of our baby's life. And you can ignore this letter or tell me to go fuck myself and I'll listen. If you tell me to stay away, I will. I owe you that much. But I'd… even if you could tell me about them a little, it would mean the world everything to me. And I know I don't deserve shit but I'm selfish and asking you anyway.

I've seen and done a lot of shit in my life and your face has haunted me every single night since the day I walked away. I saw how scared you were. You were just as terrified as me about the baby and I wasn't there for you. I didn't comfort you or reassure you that we'd get through it together. Instead I shut down and told you I couldn't do it, I wouldn't do it. And then you looked at me with such heartbreak that it makes my chest feel tight and I fucking hate it. Every time I close my eyes I remember those looks and I know I'm a piece of shit for ever putting them on your face.

It hurts more that you just accepted it. Like you expected it from me. I guess you knew me well enough to have an idea how it would go when you told me. And then you fucking respected my wishes and didn't contact me about anything. You didn't owe me that. You should have harassed me, called me a piece of shit, fought me, got child support. Fucking something. But of course you didn't. You've always been too kind and caring for that. Always looked after me even when I least deserve it.

And I guess I'm hoping that even through the hate and betrayal you feel for me, that maybe somewhere in there you still care even just a little. Enough to put me out of my misery. Enough to send even a letter with the bare minimum details about our kid. I'm hoping that I didn't change you because you were perfect as you were and the last thing I want is to have fucked you up because of my own insecurities.

There isn't a day that goes by where I don't think of you. Think of the baby. I wonder how you're both doing and if you're happy. I know you'd be a great mom and despite it all, I'm glad that if I had a kid with anyone that it was you. I'm coming back stateside in three weeks. It's gonna kill me not knowing if you've wrote back or not but I won't hold it against you if you don't.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you. For making you go through all this alone. For walking away from you and the baby like I did. If I was there I'd be down on my knees begging for forgiveness for what I did. All I can hope is that you take some mercy on me, even just a little.

I miss you, Y,N. I miss you so much it hurts and I'm just sorry. Whatever you decide, I'll understand and respect it. I love you. And yeah I probably shouldn't say that, might feel like a smack in the face after everything I've done, but I do. And I know I never told you that when we were together. We were never really 'serious' or whatever, or at least that's what I told myself. But it was only ever you. When I was with you there were no others. And I couldn't see it at the time but I'd fell in love with you the moment we met in that damn grocery store. I don't know if you ever felt the same about me but I know even if you did I've ruined that. I don't expect anything from you. I fucked up and I know that. But it doesn't change that I want to be there now. I want to know about our baby, I want to be part of their life. I want them to grow up knowing I care about them because I do.

I hope to hear from you when I'm back but I won't hold my breath. I hope… I hope you're both doing okay and I'm just sorry for everything. I hope one day you'll be able to forgive me.

Billy

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine

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im-only-joking · 3 years

Text

Do Not Disturb on the Hotel Door Part 1

This fic has been a LONNNNNGGG time coming, based off this edit that @bbbarzal made that I am in love with and have watched probably a thousand times at this point. I mean... can’t go wrong with 2 pretty best friends, right?

https://bbbarzal.tumblr.com/post/650623516756131841/introducing-two-pretty-bestfriends

Warnings: Threesome; mentions of sex in this chapter, but no actual full smut yet; not really infidelity, but like mentions of looking at someone who is not their partner; non-negotiated kinks. ummm think that’s it, but I tried to make it so that it was clear that everything was clear-headed and consensual!

Anthony Beauvillier x Mat Barzal x Reader

Mat’s birthday fell at the perfect time to also celebrate the series win against the Penguins, meaning an even larger affair, more drinks, buttons on carefully pressed shirts being undone to bare muscled chests and dresses’ hemlines were barely covering anything.

And while your boyfriend was passed around-as the birthday boy was due to be- your eyes wandered a bit in search of conversation.

Conversation fell into your lap happily, as a drunken Beau tipped onto the couch you were perched on.

While you talked, you noticed your eyes lingering on his exposed chest, his soft linen green shirt bringing out the blue in his eyes, his biceps flexing the material of the rolled sleeves.

Sydney Martin’s hand on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and you gratefully accepted another drink from her, but nursed it slowly throughout the rest of the night. Clearly, it was just the alcohol in your veins making you think… things, about Beau. You weren’t a cheater, and you loved Mat more than anything. It was okay to look.

He was your boyfriend’s best friend though. Looking, even innocently, at him was like high treason, right?

You deliberated guiltily all evening over if you had been flirty in your conversation with Beau, whether you had been leading him on in any way. You reasoned that he had to know that you were tipsy and didn’t mean it because you were with Mat, but half your brain was telling you WHORE.

“You’ve been really quiet tonight,” Mat observed, startling you out of another guilty thought-spiral.

You teased, “I’ve just been trying to let you have your spotlight.”

Mat chuckled, gathering you in his arms, half undressed. “Always willing to share as long as it’s with you.”

“Cheesy,” you smiled, nose scrunching as you let him kiss your forehead.

“Maybe.”

As soon as you got in the door of your apartment Mat was on you, sucking marks on your neck, hands flying to grip your waist, pull you as close to him as possible.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” Mat rasped, playoff beard scratching against your collarbone as he bit down, eliciting a sharp gasp from you, your hands tugging his locks.

“Daddy,” you whined, earning yourself Mat’s harsh grip on your chin.

“Use your words, baby,” Mat ordered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

“I’ll be a good girl for you Daddy,” you whimpered.

“Then you’ll need to wait, we have a guest coming.”

Your brows gathered, confusion taking over your face, making Mat rumble out a laugh.

“You really think I didn’t catch you looking at my best friend? If you’re so interested in him, why shouldn’t I let him have a little fun with you? Share how good my girl can be when she wants to,” Mat smirked, tucking a hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. “You think you can be on your best behavior for him?”

You shuddered with want, “Yes Daddy.”

“Atta girl,” Mat murmured, his hand possessive on the back of your neck as a knock on the door startled you.

“Why don’t you get naked and greet him,” Mat suggested, though his tone made it clear you weren’t to argue unless you were truly uncomfortable with it.

You gulped, nodded, and stripped to your panties, which were black lace, specifically picked out by Mat for you to wear for his birthday. He nodded, ushering you towards the door as another knock on the door beckoned you towards it.

You opened the door to see Beau as he had been dressed earlier, his blue eyes darkening as he took in your figure.

“What a warm welcome, chérie,” Beau hummed, fingers dancing over the lace at your waistline.

“Mat surprised me with this,” you mentioned, ducking your head a little. “I didn’t realize I’d been caught looking.”

Beau laughed gently, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Clearly, it isn’t a big deal, and it looks like Mat isn’t going to mind if you did more than look.”

You breathed out a giggle, hands finding Beau’s and you pulled him into the apartment to find that Mat wasn’t there.

“He’s in the kitchen, I can hear him,” Beau nodded to the archway that led to your kitchen, where the light was, in fact, on.

Beau sat on the couch, tugging you onto his lap with a squeal, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize you as you straddled his thighs. His hands explored your skin, running over your lace-covered breasts as you settled into his lap more, rolling your hips gently.

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” Beau sniggered, hands sliding to your ass to give it a squeeze, rocking his hips up to meet yours in a dirty swivel. When you didn’t answer, one hand came up to your face to smack your cheek gently. “Mat said you were gonna be good for me. I’d like to hear an answer, doll.”

“Sorry, sir,” you gasped, rolling your hips down hard to hear Beau groan. “I like being naughty for Mat… and you. I’d like to blow you if you’d let me.”

Mat emerged from the kitchen then, a couple of bottles of water in hand, which he set on the table next to the couch.

“Thought I’d let you two get comfortable. I told Beau a bit about what you like to give him some ideas, but I know you’ll ask for what you want anyway,” Mat said, hand on your neck to tilt your face up to his for a kiss. You could feel Beau’s gaze on the both of you as you let Mat claim your mouth.

“She asked to blow me,” Beau stated, leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Mat settled beside him, smirking.

“Well, give us a show then, darling,” he commanded, and you slipped off Beau’s lap to get on your knees in front of him, your mouth already salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth.

You groaned as sunlight woke you, streaming into the room through the cracks in the blinds, and you tried to sort out what was reality. What you realized was your legs and Mat’s were interlocked, your panties and even your sleep shorts were soaked through from your dream, and your hips were still rocking gently against Mat’s thigh.

“Well, good morning,” Mat grinned, clearly having woken up before you, and amused by the situation. “Sweet dreams, I guess?”

“Jesus,” you groaned, your head thumping back onto the pillow as you detached yourself from Mat’s leg.

“I wasn’t complaining, rather the opposite,” Mat laughed, ruffling your bedhead. “Just curious to know what got you so in the mood so I can recreate it.”

You froze, guilty again, as you remembered everything about the dream. “Well… it was pretty much like any of the times we get really frisky, you know. Like, you got all… commanding and sexy and stuff.”

Mat’s brow quirked, “That normally has a pretty good effect, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before… not from a dream, anyway.”

You bit your lip anxiously.

Mat frowned. “Is there… a new thing you want to explore?”

You took a breath, steadying yourself, and sat up.

“No, not really.”

#anthony beauvillier smut #anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier x reader #mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal smut #anthony beauvillier x mat barzal #@bbbarzal with all the inspo on this haha #and gotta thank mel #@hotgirlhockey for ur help with writing this #I couldnt have even started it without your help lol

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ithehellisbucky · 3 years

Text

Waking Up In Vegas

spencer reid x reader

request: prompts 87 (boop), 88 (that's such a bad idea- lets do it), 89 (Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool), 96 (I'm not crying, you are.) by anon

word count: 1.7k

warnings: Mentions of drug addiction, heavy drinking and blackout, that's it.

author's note: I've had this in my inbox for months, and I'm so sorry I didn't finish it sooner. Also, what do you want to see from my blog, it seems like I only post once a week for my fics and that's a no go from me.

~~~

The light was too loud- that's a wonderful thing to think when you remember nothing of the night before. You groaned and sat up, seeing that you were in a large bed with white covers. You scratched your head and looked around, noticing that the bedboard behind you was a large pink heart.

Looking down you realize that you're wearing a sequined red bikini top and a skirt scarf combo with booty shorts underneath. Drunk you does not have good fashion sense.

Before you can notice anything else, you start to feel puke crawling up your throat and you immediately run and vomit all your guts up.

You rinse your mouth out and notice that the blanket mound you left has shifted, and you become wary and pick up a heavy brass candlestick.

And then the lump rolls over, and it's your goddamn coworker.

"Reid?"

He startles and wakes up, staring at you and then glancing down at himself- huh, there was something wrong about that picture, but you couldn't figure out what it was just yet.

"y/n? What are you doing in my hotel room?" He pauses, looks around, then mutters under his breath "this isn't my hotel room."

He looks up at you "Since when are you married?"

"I'm not," You look down at your hand, noticing a giant red ruby adorning your ring finger "I am."

You look down at his hand and notice that he is too, "And so are you."

You and Spencer look around your room, both badly masking paranoia and panic. Both of your eyes stop when you notice a picture frame in the corner- a wedding certificate.

"Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool Cool. This is fine, no big deal, just a marriage certificate," You move over and pick it up "with both of our names on it."

"Okay, this is okay, this is fine," Spencer says, sitting back down on the bed stunned.

"So, we're married, which is a thing that happened, last night, that you definitely remember." You say, sitting down next to your newly revealed husband.

"I don't remember."

"How do you not remember? You have super memory powers!"

"This is an excellent first fight to have as a married couple, of course, you blame me." He says, standing up and shrugging.

You meet his stance "Of course I blame you! You're the smart one!"

"Oh, well Agent, I wasn't aware that you had an IQ of 25!" He pauses "25 is the number associated by Henry H. Goodard to be an idiot, it's actually-"

"I know!" You exclaim, seething with half-hearted rage.

"You know, your the one who got an addict drunk!"

"Your vice isn't alcohol! If I drugged you I'd be a monster! You ordered that first bloody mary all by yourself, and those shots we did were totally consensual!!!"

He looked up at you "you remember that?"

You think, and notice memories that you didn't know were there, "um, yeah, bits and pieces."

From the expression he makes, he looks to be remembered more too. You and your new husband sit down and let it all hit you.

~~~

"4 tequila shots please." You wave down the bartender.

You're already buzzed, but you and Spencer were just getting warmed up. Morgan and Garcia left hours ago to go to a fancy restaurant, Rossi was planted firmly at the poker table, Hotch was nowhere to be seen, JJ had gone home to be with Henry, and Emily was at a "sin to win" night at some casino that you already knew too much about just by hearing the name.

So that leaves you and Spencer at the bar in the only casino in town he wasn't banned from.

At first, you were concerned about him drinking, but once he reassured that alcohol isn't his way of self-medicating, you were okay. Besides, if you saw any red flags, you would throw his ass in rehab faster than you can say 'gin'.

So, you were 5 drinks in and having the time of your lives, showing off battle scars and laughing. God, his eyes were pretty.

"Your eyes are so pretty!" You giggled "like soooooo pretty, woooooooow."

He laughed and looked back at you "your skin is pretty, like in a non-serial killer way, it's really pretty."

"Thank you, just don't kill me for it."

"I just called no murder!" He whined "besides, how am I sure you won't kill me and scoop my eyes out?"

"Because that's gross." You said, rolling your eyes.

"And stealing your skin isn't?"

"You can' have my skin!" You say, mock running away.

He laughs, and looks directly into your eyes, and smiles, wow, he was pretty. Morgan was right.

"Hey, do you wanna get out of here?" Spencer asks you.

"Yeah, let's get ice cream!" You grab his hand, and it feels natural through your foggy brain.

After stumbling through the ice cream parlor, full of people who were trying to pretend like they weren't. Spencer got butter pecan, and you got sherbert and chocolate.

You stumbled out of the store, giggling to yourself and Spencer.

God, you loved him. So you told him.

"I love you." He stopped in his tracks, and you almost tripped on a bicycle rack.

"Really?" He whispers.

All of the giggles are gone.

"I love you."

The ice cream is long forgotten, his on the ground, and half of yours on your clothes and half next to his on the ground. All that's left is your faces inching closer to each other.

When your lips meet it feels like firecrackers going off inside your head.

His mouth is soft, gently contrasting with your soft lips. His tongue sneaks into your mouth, your smile around his.

"Let's get married." He pulls apart from you, out of breath.

You stay silent for a moment, before looking up and directly into his chocolate brown eyes "That is such a bad idea-"

He diverts his eyes and scratches the back of his skull "Um, yeah, that's okay, let's-"

"Let's do it."

He looks back at you, and you grab his body and kiss him.

~~~

Sometimes people can be happy, you realize as an elderly woman ties a sash around your waist.

You have to be honest, you never thought this was gonna be how you were gonna get married. Hell, you weren't sure if you were gonna get married at all. But certainly not like this. Certainly not at 1 am to your coworker 7 drinks in at a cheap roadside attraction.

Definitely not like this.

But something about this weirdness felt like the only way anything ever would've made any sense.

There was something about the outfit you were wearing that was perfect, a bright red bra covered in sequins underneath a top with buttons and poofy sleeves that showed off a lot of your chest, a wrap-around cheap white silk skirt with jeans shorts underneath. And of course purple open-toed boots. Perfect.

Marrying Spencer Reid is like a fever dream. A perfect man with perfect hair and perfect eyes. So of course you were giggling like crazy while they put the cheap crown with pink tulle serving as a veil on your head.

Your witnesses were an elderly couple, of course, you wanted to have your best friends there, but knowing them they'd try to talk you out, and believe me, there was no way you wanted out of it.

"Now's time dear," the woman exclaims, gently patting you on the shoulder and leading you out of the fitting room and towards the chapel.

The owner of the business hooks his arm around yours and leads you into the chapel, church bells from an iPod attached to a speaker ringing out into the air.

Spencer turns around the air visibly leaves his lungs when you make eye contact. The chapel you two had chosen in this drunken haze was costume-themed, and he was wearing an ancient Rome costume that fit the time where his favorite philosopher, so even though no one else noticed, you could tell he was dressed as Gaius.

His hair had been attempted to slick back, but little curls were popping up all over the place instead. He was wringing his hands tightly and bouncing his knee, god you couldn't wait to marry him.

The elderly man who had led you to the alter places you next to Spencer, you couldn't focus on anything but your soon-to-be-husband.

Spencer takes his hands and gently pulls your veil up from around your face, and a tear trickles out of his eyes as he sees you. You smile and notice his nerves, try to calm the love of your life down "boop", you gently tap his nose and he smiles in comfort.

The officiant drones on and on about love but you can't hear him, all you can focus on is his love-filled eyes.

"Do you take Spencer Reid to be your husband?"

Your eyes snap out of their daze and you say with the most certainty than you have ever said anything: "I do."

"And do you take (y/n) (y/l/n) to be your life partner for as long as you may live?"

"I do," And you feel more wanted than you ever have in your life, he wants you, Spencer wants you.

~~~

You and Spencer sit on your bed in stunned silence, neither believing that last night had really happened. You look over at your apparent husband and notice tears streaming down his face.

"You're crying." You say, your voice coming out as a chocked whisper.

"I'm not crying, you are." You look down and notice that your shirt is soaked in tears.

"Oh." You take a deep breath and look into his eyes. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Get an annulment?" He doesn't look completely happy about his answer and stares into your eyes for reassurance.

You take a deep breath and stare off into the distance, out into a world that would be so much better if you were married to Spencer Reid. "I don't want that."

You look back at him to meet his eyes, "Me neither."

"I love you, a lot, and I want to be married to you." Spencer smiles, and you feel wanted and safe and loved.

Instead of saying it back, he kissed you with a passion that was way more descriptive than simple words. Spencer is your husband and you love him, he loves you, and you are finally wanted.

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

Text

The Night Shift Part 6 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's Saturday, your dickhead boyfriend is out of town, an old friend is in town, and it's time to get drunk!

Warnings: Drinking, mention of drug use, crippling self doubt

W/C: 4.3k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 7

Somehow, the week went exceptionally well. You bugged Frankie each day for the photo he promised you, and each time he grinned and told you that good things came to those who waited. On Wednesday you received a call from the vet telling you the kitten was going to be fine, and she would be put up for adoption when she was old enough. You were initially crushed that the kitten wasn’t going to be yours, but told yourself it was good she was bound to go to a good to a family. You couldn’t give the kind of life a cat deserved.

But most of all, you were almost unreasonably excited for the weekend. You bounced with excitement every time you thought about it - hell, even things with Kurt seemed to be going better. He had planned a hunting trip up north with a few of his friends, and would be gone from Thursday til Monday. He had brought you a bunch of flowers when he ‘broke the news’, not your favourite kind but it was the thought that counted. An entire four days to yourself was more than enough incentive for you to almost force him out the door on Thursday afternoon. With a kiss and a packed lunch and a promise to call, he was gone and the apartment was blessedly empty.

Even better, your best friend Sara was in town.

Fifteen minutes after you watched Kurt’s car pull out of the apartments parking lot, watching the window carefully to make sure he didn’t come back, you called her.

“Can we do something on Saturday? Get drunk, do bad things, anything?” You said by way of greeting.

“Oh hell fucking yes, I’ve been waiting for you to be fun again!” Sara said. You knew that was a not so subtle jab at how much you had changed since Kurt entered your life. You ignored it, like you usually did.

“Saturday sound good to you? I work Friday night and I can’t take it off.” More like you didn’t want to take it off.

“Saturday sounds fantastic. There’s a big fight night happening, and I wanna watch some hot sweaty guys pummel each other.” Sara said. “We can get drunk at the same time. Also I can get some molly if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, not entirely opposed to the idea of spending the night high as shit. Especially if Kurt wasn’t going to be there to yell at you for it.

“Let me know, sooner rather than later so I can sort it out with my guy,” Sara said. “Anyway babe, I’ve gotta jet, I’ve only got five minutes left on my break and I haven’t eaten yet, love ya!”

“Love you too,” you said, meaning it with your whole heart. Out of all the friends you once had, Sara was the only one who had stuck around after you started dating Kurt. At first, you had choked it up to jealousy, convincing yourself all your other friends were envious of your perfect relationship with a perfect guy. Now looking back, you could see what really happened: you had ditched them. Completely and utterly. Kurt had taken up all of your time, convincing you to stay in when you had plans to go out, telling you that the girls you would have trusted your life with only barely put up with you and it was just so obvious to anyone with an outsider's perspective that they didn’t really like you. You were grateful for Sara, more than words could say.

~*~

Saturday came quickly, and before you knew it, Sara was slamming her fist on your door, a bag stuffed with alcohol slung over her shoulder.

“Bitch!” she screamed in greeting when you finally opened the door, still wrapped in your towel from your shower. She was already dressed, in a tight gold 70s style jumpsuit that made her dark brown skin look like it was glowing from the inside out.

“How do you manage to look so good all the time?” You said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Witchcraft,” Sara said, pulling a bottle of prosecco out of her bag and popping it open. “And like, this whole thing took me all day. Why aren’t you ready yet?”

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” you said, plucking the bottle out of Sara’s hand and taking a swig. It was cold and crisp and filled your partly empty stomach. You continued to take small sips as you got ready, occasionally asking Sara for her girly wisdom on what to wear. She picked out your outfit as you applied makeup. It felt almost foreign, using something other than a mascara and brow pencil. The use of colour and shimmers almost felt like breaking some unwritten rule you had created for yourself since dating Kurt.

“What happened to all your fun clothes?” Sara whined, going through your wardrobe. You shrugged, carefully applying bronzer. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Sometimes things just went missing - you didn’t really question it anymore.

“I’m a miracle worker.” Sara declared after almost fifteen minutes of searching. You looked up at her, then at the small bundle of clothing in her arms. She grinned and flung the pile at you. You held up a black pleather skirt that you hadn’t worn in almost a year, and a black body suit that dipped low in the chest.

“Christ,” you muttered.

“What’s wrong with it,” Sara sounded exasperated, like she had been expecting this from you.

“It’s just-” you hesitated. “I’m not going out to get dick, you know? What’s wrong with a pair of jeans?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with a pair of jeans? I’ll tell you what: everything. You don’t have to have dick as the aim of the night to look cute. You can look cute for yourself. You know just as well as I do that skirt makes your legs and ass look amazing, especially when paired with the shoes I’ve brought for you. Plus, if someone out tonight decides you look cute enough to buy you drinks, then even better! Because free drinks! You don’t have to fuck them as a thank you, you can just turn around and walk away. So, get dressed and stop complaining.”

You considered Sara’s words for a moment. She was right. After you changed, you admired yourself in the mirror. Your ass really did look amazing, and the strappy black heels that Sara had loaned you accentuated your calves magnificently. Sara stood next to you, arm linked through yours, almost a foot taller in her platforms and with her afro teased to the high heavens.

“God, we’re sexy,” she murmured, taking another swig out of the bottle. “You’re absolutely wasted on Kurt.”

You didn’t bother with your usual retorts to that kind of comment. She’s wrong, you’re lucky to have someone to love you like that at all, no one else would want to if they got to know you, you told yourself. It’s what he had told you over and over again, the words searing themselves inside your brain to repeat each time you began to truly doubt with him.

You finished off the prosecco while you waited for the Uber to arrive, enjoying the warm buzz it left you with. Sara whipped out her phone and began to take photos of the two of you. At first, you shied away from the camera, the words Kurt had said once in a throwaway comment, surely not designed to hurt but did anyway, rang in your ears. You don’t look very good in photos, why do you take so many? After that, you would spend hours staring at old photos of yourself, the flaws that were invisible now glaringly obvious.

Tonight though . . . Tonight you felt pretty. You posed for the camera, following Sara’s instructions as best you could. You took photos of each other throughout the entire ride to the venue where the fight night was taking place.

It looked a little shabby on the outside, overgrown hedges snaked up the walls, covering the windows. A smoking area was off to the side, crowded with people. The inside was even more crowded, with bodies pushing up against the horseshoe shaped bar and surrounding the ring. Two women were in the ring, both bloodied and swinging.

“God there is just something so arousing about hot people consensually beating each other up,” Sara said, unable to tear her eyes away from the ring.

“Babe, you’re drooling,” you joked, stepping in line for the bar.

“I can’t help it, I have an overactive salivary gland,” Sara sighed, tearing her eyes away. “At least my dentist says so.” You grinned at her and ordered three vodka sodas each. It was a tradition with the two of you that you would always order three drinks at a time. Less back and forth, you had reasoned. Although, usually as the night progressed, three drinks were downed in the same amount of time it took to drink one, so it really cancelled itself out in the end.

As tradition warranted, you and Sara cheersed and swallowed your first drink in one breath.

Several more fights occurred, the divisions eventually changing from women’s to men’s. Neither you nor Sara paid much attention to the first few fights: “amateur hour” Sara had said to you “I’m waiting for the good stuff.”

The good stuff, it turned out, started almost an hour and 5 drinks after you arrived.

“Next fight, King V Miller!” The announcer shouted into the microphone to the cheer of the crowd. Sara’s head shot up as if she could sense the sudden change, and she grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to the ring.

“Oh, my god look at him,” Sara said, gesturing to the ring. You knew instantly which one she was talking about. He was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and lean muscle corded over his body.

“He’s pretty spry,” you said, and instantly cringed. Spry? Really?

“I wanna fuck him tonight,” Sara said. Then her voice took on a determined edge. “I am going to fuck him tonight.” Manifestation, Sara called it. If you told the universe what you wanted, the universe would deliver.

Apparently.

“I am going to get more drinks,” you told her. She nodded, not tearing her eyes away from the fighter. You went to the considerably less crowded bar- it seemed like everyone was now watching the fights- and leant against its sticky surface.

You shouted your order over the noise of the crowd, and scanned the bar as you waited. Most faces were familiar in the way that you knew when you had seen someone before, but you didn’t know when or where. That was, until you landed on one dazzlingly familiar face, standing almost right next to you.

“Frankie?”

~*~

Frankie startled at the sound of his name. He looked around, expecting to see one of the boys or maybe an old work friend from the mechanics. The last person he expected was you. But there you stood, looking so good that he was momentarily lost for words.

“Frankie!” You said again, with a huge grin on your face this time.

“Hey!” He grinned back, “what’s a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” His tone held a flirty edge, one he wouldn’t dare have used if he hadn’t already had several bourbon and colas.

“Oh you know, I plan on accosting the winner tonight of all their prize money and taking off into the night, never to be heard from again,” you accepted three drinks from the bartender as you spoke. “What about you?”

“My friend Benny is fighting tonight. He’s actually up right now, the blonde one.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way! My friend wants to fuck your friend.” You pointed your chin towards a tall black woman, dressed like she had wandered out of Studio 54. “Is he single? Can we play wingpeople?”

“He is, we can.” Frankie nodded confidently. Maybe it was the alcohol controlling his brain, but any excuse to spend time with you seemed like a good excuse. “How should we do this?”

“Does your friend Billy-”

“Benny.”

“Benny stick around after the fights?”

“Yeah, he gets free drinks,” Frankie said. You nodded approvingly, taking a sip of one of your own drinks. Frankie watched amazed as you somehow held the two others in one hand, your fingers curling around the hard plastic cups.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Hold your stuff like that,” he gestured to your fingers. You looked down, confused.

“Whatta’ya mean?”

“With your fingers.”

“Oh! Um, I dunno, I just do.” You shrugged and placed the now empty up on a random table, and started on the next drink. It occurred to Frankie that you were well on your way to being very, very drunk.

The crowd cheered loudly as Benny knocked out the other guy with a bloody grin. Frankie whistled his support and Benny caught his eye, saluting tiredly. Santi also caught his attention, and even across the room Frankie could see the wicked grin form on his face. Frankie looked away quickly, not willing to give the bastard any ideas.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Some stupid place doing some stupid hunting,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Fuck him anyway he never lets me do anything fun.”

“What do you mean ‘lets you’?” Frankie said, his brow furrowing.

“I mean, he’s a controlling dickhead!” You said, then slapped a hand over your mouth. “Don’t tell him I just said that! Please!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Frankie said.

“Just forget I said anything,” your voice had taken on an almost desperate edge.

“It’s forgotten,” Frankie lied. He didn’t know how, but he was going to bring it up later. The idea of your boyfriend ‘not letting’ you do something had taken root in his brain, and somehow it made him furious. He took a deep breath, counting slowly to calm himself down.

“Who’s that guy who keeps making faces at you?” You asked, gesturing across the bar. Frankie sighed.

“Santi.” Frankie rolled his eyes at his old friend and waved him over. His curly hair friend bounded over, flashing you with a brilliant white smile.

“Well, hello there,” he said, winking at you. “Santiago Garcia, but you can call me whatever you like.”

You smiled sheepishly and gave him your name, “I work with Frankie.” Santiago’s grin widened at this piece of information, and Frankie groaned internally.

“You’re the girl Frankie told me about.”

“Chatting shit, I’m sure,” you laughed, but Frankie didn’t miss the questioning glance you sent his way when you spoke.

“Santiago was the one who took that photo I told you about,” Frankie said quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. You nodded and leant over towards Santi.

“He keeps promising to show me but he’s yet to deliver,” you said, winking at Frankie. His stomach jumped, breath caught in his throat. He knew you were joking but he couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed you somehow.

“That’s my fault,” Santi said, “I keep meaning to get him a copy but since he’s sleeping all day I haven’t been able to.” You nodded and turned to Frankie.

“I should go find my Sara before I lose her for the night,” you said, looking at Frankie. “Come find me - I mean, us later? With your Benny?”

“Yeah, of course,” Frankie said, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. The urge to grab you and kiss you grew with every second, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t that kind of guy, and no amount of drinks would make him think it would be a good idea to do that to someone. Let alone you.

~*~

Frankie’s head was cloudy with alcohol, he couldn’t stop thinking about how good your ass looked in that tiny skirt, how he wanted to plant his face directly in your chest.

“Fucking hell, get a grip,” Santiago said, shaking his friend by the shoulder. They were back in the locker rooms, Benny was buzzing with his win. He and Will were going their post match ritual of smacking each other on the back and releasing loud “woo”’s.

“I’m fine,” Frankie insisted, and Santi scoffed.

“You’re full of shit,” he said. “Ironhead, tell this idiot he’s full of shit!”

“You’re full of shit, Fish!” Will said automatically. “But what’s he full of shit for?”

“He’s in denial about pining for the chick he works with,” Santi said. “Look at the poor bastard, it’s written on his face.”

“Fish, you’ve never been good at keeping a straight face when it comes to emotional crap,” Benny said. “All other stuff, you’re great. Just not when it comes to matters of the heart. Or the dick.”

“You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her,” Santi laughed. “And the way she was looking at him, making bedroom eyes at each other.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, ignoring how the last comment made his heart leap. “You’re all stupid, she’s just a work friend saying hi. Nothing more.”

“Full of shit!” Benny cackles. “Look at his blush!” Frankie groaned. They were right about him at least. He had it bad for you.

But that didn’t matter. You had a boyfriend, and even if everything Frankie found out about the guy made him resent him a little more, he couldn’t change that one important fact. And he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin the beginings of his friendship with you over a stupid fucking crush. He just wasn’t.

Benny showered, singing You Belong With Me and switching out the pronouns as he did. The man was an unashamed Swiftie, claiming that she had a song for every situation. Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep swig of his beer. Will sat beside him and nudged him gently.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

Frankie frowned. “What? I’m not gonna ‘do’ anything. She has a boyfriend, end of story.”

“Sorry to hear that man,” Will said, sounding sincere. He knew Frankie wasn’t the type of guy to wreck someone else's relationship for purely selfish reasons. “You’re a good man.”

Frankie wished he wasn’t.

Benny changed into his regular clothes quickly, and said something about needing a drink. The four of them left the locker room and made their way to the bar, and Frankie couldn’t help but look around for you. When he couldn’t see you, he bit back the slight disappointment that sank in his stomach. Benny brought a round for the group and they found an empty table to sit at. The employees of the bar were dismantling the ring to make room for a dance floor. Loud, thumping music started playing and within moments the floor was packed with bodies.

“Frankie! And Frankie’s friends!” Frankie looked around at the sound of your voice, which was high with excitement. You bounded over, clutching the hand of the friend you had pointed out earlier. You introduced yourself and your friend Sara to the group and pulled up a chair for you and Sara each. Frankie didn’t miss how you placed Sara’s chair next to Benny, or how Benny was staring at Sara with his mouth slightly open. He also noticed with a slight pang how you sat yourself between Will and Santi, directly across from him.

What he didn’t was how much you kept looking at him. Lucky for him, Santi and Will noticed plenty.

You and Sara spent a few hours with the group, until a not so inconspicuous Benny and Sara both disappeared, Sara throwing a wink towards you as she left. Will left not long after, saying that his bed was calling his name. Santi stayed a little longer, flirting with you much to Frankie’s annoyance. To his credit, he didn’t show you the catfish photo. Frankie wanted to show you that one himself, when you were both sober.

“I better head out,” Santi said as it rolled past three in the morning. “I’ve gotta babysit Lee tomorrow, and you know how hyper he is.” He turned to you and kissed your hand. “It was the deepest pleasure meeting you, don’t be a stranger. Frankie.” Santi raised an eyebrow and shot him a meaningful look.

“Good night,” he said a little forcefully, shoving Santi towards the door, mainly to get him to stop flirting with you. He knew the flirting was just incentive to spur him into some kind of action with you, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Your friends are nice,” you said, struggling to connect the straw of your drink with your mouth.

“They’re assholes most of the time. They’re just nice to beautiful women.” Frankie regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Shit! Now she thinks I think she’s beautiful. She is! But she doesn’t need to know I think that! Frankie finished off his drink to avoid looking at you.

“I’m attractive til they get to know me,” you said with a snort.

“What makes you think that?” Frankie asked, confused as to how that could work.

“I don’t think,” you said, “I know. It’s a fact. One that cannot be argued.”

Frankie was about to argue with you about this when you turned away, stumbling as you did. She’s super fucking drunk, Frankie thought, grabbing your arms to steady you. Your skin was so much softer than he anticipated, sending a jolt through him. He let go quickly, mouth going dry as you beamed up at him.

“You saved me!” You declared, then finished your drink quickly, emitting a small burp. “To thank you, I must give you a token of my gratitude. I know! A drink! Three drinks for the kind sir! And three for me!”

“Jesus, how much have you had?” Frankie asked, laughing.

“Only a little bit,” you shrugged and thought for a moment. “Maybe like, a dozen vodka sodas and some shots and also half a bottle of prosecco. And also a teeny tiny bit of molly, but that was hours ago, so it’s basically gone.”

“Maybe I should walk you home,” Frankie suggested gently, amazed that you were still upright let alone getting served. You shrugged.

“I can just get an Uber or something, it’s fine.”

“No, no, don’t waste your money, let me walk you.”

You looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The cold air outside hit the both of you like a wall. Stars scattered across a moonless sky, leaving Frankie wonderstruck for a moment, until he noticed the goosebumps on your arms. Without a second thought, Frankie took off his jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. You looked up at him, a surprised look on your face.

“Frankie, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend, right? And she’s been dating this guy for years now. They live together, no kids or anything. But she told me a little while ago that she’s been feeling . . . trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yeah. Like, she doesn’t think she loves her boyfriend anymore. At least, not in a way that she should. And he’s so mean to her, too. He doesn’t hit her or anything, but he’s also not super nice to her, and-and she doesn’t always know what she did to deserve it. She doesn’t know what to do.”

“Can she leave?” Frankie suspected you weren't talking about a friend, but he didn’t press beyond what you were willing to tell him.

“Not easily, I don’t think. She doesn’t have enough money for her own place and- and she’s afraid.” Your face flushed.

“What’s she afraid of?”

“Being alone. Unloved. She doesn’t have any family or anything and her boyfriend is the closest she has to that. So um, if she was your friend, what would you say to her?”

Frankie was thoughtful for several moments. He didn’t want to fuck this up. If his suspicions were correct, you were talking about yourself. “Well, first of all I would tell her that her boyfriend is a massive dick, even if he doesn’t hit her, boyfriends shouldn’t make their girlfriends feel like shit. I would tell her to talk to her friends, ask for their help. I would also tell her that being alone doesn’t have to mean lonely, and it certainly doesn’t mean that she’s going to be unloved.”

You nodded thoughtfully at this. Frankie took this as a good sign. “She can’t know for sure what her life will be like, but my guess is that it will be better if she chooses to leave this asshole.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Frankie knew you were thinking about what he said. He too, was lost in thought. Trying to figure out a plan to help you in any way he could. All too soon, you arrived at your apartment building.

“Thanks for this,” you said, taking off the jacket and handing it to him. Frankie nodded.

“You needed it more than me,” he said simply. “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

You nodded, and then as if you weren’t entirely sure if what you were about to do was a good idea, you wrapped your arms around him. Frankie stiffened for a moment before hugging you back, holding you to him tightly, breathing in your scent of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. You were warm and soft and everything in him was screaming don’t let go.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his ear, and he knew you weren’t talking about the jacket.

Taglist: Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209

#the night shift #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

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averykedavra · 3 years

Text

Ever Slightly Out of Reach

So it’s been a hot second since I wrote anything, thanks to finals, and I wanted a quick warmup to get myself back in the groove. And that quick warmup may have turned out not-so-quick. That’s partly thanks to the great base prompt by @fanartfunart, which I fell in love with. I hope I stayed true to the spirit of the AU, and I hope you all enjoy this rambling plotless ghost fluff.

(Title from Still Here by Digital Daggers. This fic is on Ao3 here!)

Pairings: platonic Creativitwins

Words: 8068

Warnings: death mentions, injury mentions, possession (but a very consensual and low-key kind), arguing, some gross-out humor, and thunderstorms

It was a dark and stormy afternoon, and Remus was preparing to be possessed.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Roman said, floating in his favorite position above the foot of Remus’ bed. One of his legs dangled towards the floor. The other was nowhere to be found. “We should really do something else.”

“Don’t be a quitter,” Remus said. He combed his hair with his fingers. “It’s fun!”

“It’s not.”

“You like it,” Remus complained. “Last time, you squealed about getting to eat an apple.”

“Yeah, but--” Roman winced. “You feel all greasy. It’s like I’m stuck in a--really dirty oven mitt.”

“Hey!”

“You probably haven’t showered for days.” Roman flopped upside down and his mist tinted red. “Did you even wash your hands after lunch?”

Remus looked down at his hands. His nails still had dirt stuck under them in little crescent moons. Yesterday, he’d dug up weeds from the garden and brought them to show Roman. The mess was always part of the fun.

“I didn’t wash my hands,” Remus admitted, “but it’s no biggie--”

“Ew!” Roman interrupted, folding his arms until they blended together. “And I knew it! You never wash your hands! You don’t even do it after you pick your nose!”

Remus grinned and shoved his finger into his nose, just for fun.

“Ew!” Roman yelled louder. “Grow up!”

“I’m already nine,” Remus said triumphantly, poking the finger a bit further to see if he could feel his brains. “Nine and one whole quarter.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m way older than you. Shut it, doodoo head.”

“You shut it!” Remus yanked his finger out of his nose and wiped it on his sash. Roman cringed. “You’re gonna go inside this doodoo head and you’re gonna like it.”

Roman huffed. But Remus knew he wasn’t really mad, ‘cause when Roman got real mad, the furniture wasn’t on the ground anymore.

“Come on,” Remus pleaded, flopping onto the carpet. He gave Roman his best give-me-candy-I’m-a-good-boy look. “You know you wanna. We’ll only do it for like six seconds and it’ll be hilarious.”

“It’s not funny,” Roman said.

“Prove it.” Remus popped back upright and kicked his bare feet in the air. “Possess me.”

“No.”

“Come on! You’re worse than Mom!” Remus rolled his eyes until the whites showed. “I’m gonna go back to school tomorrow and I wanna do this now! Before I’ve got homework and stuff. And if you practice, you’ll get really good, and we could go all sorts of places together!”

Roman shivered. “I don’t want to go anywhere in your gross head.”

“I’m awesome for possessing,” Remus said. He tried to imitate the commercials on TV and in-between videos about car explosions. “I’m cool, I’m smart, I have cool hair, I’ve had a whole entire boyfriend--”

“That was in kindergarten,” Roman said. “It doesn’t count.”

“It does too!”

“Does not!”

“And I’m awesome,” Remus said, forcing himself away from an argument. “And I have ten whole fingers and ten whole toes. You have, like, five. Tops.”

Roman counted his currently-visible fingers. “Seven.”

“See?” Remus pointed at him. “And--and! And I have a cool outfit. So I’m the best for possessing.”

Roman gave Remus a look. An I-don’t-want-to-be-mean look. Remus knew that look from teachers who didn’t like his drawings. And classmates who thought he was freaky. And his parents when they tried to tell him again that Roman wasn’t real, Remus was just making up an imaginary friend, and shouldn’t he try to go play with some kids his own age?

Remus knew, though. He knew he wasn’t making Roman up. Two years of being besties wasn’t made-up, and just because nobody else could see Roman didn’t mean Roman wasn’t there. Sometimes things stayed in houses without people noticing. Like stains. Or the slug Remus kept in a shoebox. If his parents didn’t know about the slug, it made sense that they might not know about Roman, either.

Typical grownups. Thought they knew everything.

Roman was nice, because he actually did know stuff. Not stuff like how TVs worked--Remus had tried to explain it, Roman just didn’t get it--but other stuff. Stuff he wouldn’t tell Remus sometimes.

“How’d you die?” Remus asked, instead of trying to remember what he’d just been talking about. He hadn’t asked yet today. Maybe this time it’d work.

“Quicksand,” Roman said.

Could be true. “How?”

“I fell into it.” Roman was definitely telling a story now. He got all dramatic whenever he made something up. “It was a sad, sad day.”

“Why’d you fall into quicksand?” Remus asked, sitting on the carpet and pulling at the threads. “Seems kinda stupid if you ask me.”

“Hey!” Roman said. “I didn’t fall, I was pushed.”

“You said you fell!”

“I said wrong!” Roman huffed, and red flickered around his eyes. “I got pushed because my uncle wanted the kingdom for himself. Quicksand is really cold, actually. All my bones got filled with sand one by one, and it tasted super gross.”

“Did your eye sockets get filled up too?” Remus asked.

Roman nodded. “And my ear sockets. And then I died.”

Remus decided that was a good enough story, and accepted it at face value. “That does sound real gross.”

“It was.” Roman snickered. “Almost as gross as being in your head.”

“Hey!” Remus jumped up. “Look, if you don’t like my head, you can go sit in the living room and talk to all the grownups. But we’ve done this before! You possessed me on accident--”

“I said I was sorry,” Roman mumbled.

“--and then you did it on purpose a couple times, and it was really cool, it was like--” Remus waved his hands and smashed them together. “Bam! You and me all in one brain! And I wanna do it again, so we can figure out how it works, and we can do it for longer!”

Roman raised an eyebrow until it disappeared. “Why?”

“So you can--” Remus gestured at him. “We could do stuff together!”

“We already do stuff together.”

“No, like--” Remus glanced out the window. He could just see the road in the distance. The bus stop was right across the street. He’d have to stand there tomorrow, even if it was still raining. “I know you never leave the house, but if you were me, we could--”

Roman’s eyes hardened. “No.”

Remus faltered. “I just thought--”

Roman immediately looked guilty. He shifted back and forth in midair, and for a few seconds, he almost disappeared altogether. Then he stabilized. Bright white, small, and still just Remus’ height--Roman never explained why they’d been growing together, and maybe he didn’t know. Or maybe it was just another thing Roman wouldn’t tell him.

For a best friend, Roman kept a lot of secrets.

But still. Maybe that was just how friends were. Remus didn’t really have a lot of experience.

“It’s okay,” Roman said to where his feet would probably be. “I just--fine. I’ll possess you, alright? If you really wanna. I’ll wear your weird outfit and everything. But you owe me a favor.”

Remus squealed and twirled around. He didn’t even care that Roman insulted his outfit. He didn’t care about the favor, either--Remus owed Roman like twenty favors by now, it was fine. Remus had time to pay him back later. Roman wasn’t exactly going anywhere.

“This is gonna be great!” Remus blurted out, gesturing for Roman to join him on the carpet. “Okay, you can do it whenever, and you can pop out whenever! But go ahead and try to do stuff while you’re me! So we can see how it works.”

Roman nodded a bit, floating just above the carpet. “So...now?”

“Now,” Remus said. “Unless you’re too chicken--I’m not a chicken!”

Roman’s voice, Remus’ mouth. Roman was gone from the carpet. Remus stood alone in his room.

Remus grinned. “Awesome.”

His grin twisted into an annoyed smirk, followed by an “If you say so.”

It really was awesome. Being possessed was like when you sat in one place for too long and your legs fell asleep. It tingled all over his skin. It made him kinda slow to move and slow to think, and it felt a bit like he was floating, just like Roman could. His head was dizzy and the room was deeper than it used to be, like Remus could see it from every angle, and the rain drummed louder and louder.

“This is so cool,” Remus whispered. It took a second for the words to work, even though Roman quickly let him talk. “You wanna try and move?”

“You can move,” Roman said back, seeming to retreat from Remus’ legs. Remus kicked his foot at the carpet. “I’m not good at walking anymore.”

“Practice makes perfect!” Remus concentrated and tried to shove Roman into the legs again. Go in there, go in there, come on--

“Don’t think so loud.” Roman huffed and rolled Remus’ eyes. “Fine. I’ll try to walk. Don’t grab control until I’m done, though, ‘cause you’ll make us both fall over.”

Remus mimed zipping his lips. The next second, he was pulled closer into himself and away from his skin. He felt his legs move. Roman walked with an awkward wobble--probably because he didn’t have legs most of the time--and a kind of glide. Remus tried very hard not to interrupt Roman. He sucked in his breath and watched patiently.

Roman had managed to walk them halfway across the room. He was picking up speed now, seeming to remember how it worked when gravity existed, and Remus felt his mouth twist in a smile. They walked past the window, Roman skimming fingers across the pane and leaving water on Remus’ hands. Around and around. Roman knew this place, Remus started to feel--he knew where the door was and how many steps it took to get there. He knew how to dash around corners, he knew where to kick the doors, he knew the creakiest floorboards. He’d just forgotten.

“You wanna go downstairs?” Remus asked, trying his hardest to keep his control from spreading to his legs. “We could get a snack.”

“Good idea!” Roman sounded excited. He always sounded excited. Why did he complain about possession stuff anyway? He clearly liked to be in Remus’ head, and he liked to be able to walk around, and he was good at it. Remus didn’t even have to worry, ‘cause Roman knew where to go--

And they both crashed into the wall.

Remus fell onto the floor. His knee banged something on the way down, and it started to hurt, especially when he grabbed it to see what was wrong.

“Ow!” Remus complained. The words hit no barrier. “Ow, fudge-popsicle-muffin-nugget, what the frick?”

“Sorry!” Roman was crumpled next to him, adjusting his sash. The stupid muffin probably left as soon as things started to hurt. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Why’d you lead us into the wall?” Remus inspected his knee. It wasn’t quite scream-for-Mom worthy--no blood--but maybe he’d put a bandaid on it, just in case. “That hurt, stupid.”

“There wasn’t a wall there!” Roman complained.

Remus pointed at the very obvious wall.

“I mean there didn’t use to be one.” Roman drifted upright. He did look sorry about it, which made Remus less annoyed. “That’s where the door used to be. I got mixed up.”

“It’s been at least two years.” Remus pulled himself to his feet. His knee still stung, but not that bad. “Get used to the new door, weirdo.”

“I never have to use it!” Roman floated halfway through the wall as an example. The wallpaper curled slightly, like he’d lit a fire next to it. “Not my fault that you guys put all the things in different places. I never know how to get anywhere anymore!”

Remus blew a raspberry at him. “Maybe look around you, weener. It’s your house, you gotta know it.”

Roman glared at the wall. “Doesn’t feel like my house.”

After a second, Remus clapped his hands. “Can’t have you walk around in my body if you’re gonna ride it off a cliff, so--guess we’re done?”

“We’re done,” Roman said, looking relieved. “I’m spared your terrible fashion sense.”

“Hey!” Remus grabbed his sash protectively. “I made this outfit myself and I love it and you can shut your hole.”

“Okay, okay.” Roman drifted over to the bed and stretched his arms. “What do we do now?”

Remus hummed, looking between Roman and the door. It was still raining. It was the last day of summer vacation--not the last last day, but tomorrow Remus was gonna get a new backpack, and that was fun but it didn’t have Roman. Roman never came shopping with him. So Remus got one day before Roman would be stuck in the house all alone.

He could try to get Roman to come along, but he didn’t wanna waste the afternoon.

Remus looked back at the door. Had it really been in a different place? Remus knew that all the furniture was different now, especially in the living room, but he didn’t know about the doors. He didn’t know much about the house at all. It was too big--good for hide and seek, bad for understanding. Sometimes Remus wished he had a house GPS.

Actually--

“I’ve got an idea,” Remus said. “Do you wanna make a map?”

“A map?” Roman asked. He already looked interested. “Like a treasure map?”

“No, a map of the house! From bottom to top!”

Roman tilted his head. “Why?”

“So we don’t get lost!” Remus hopped in place. “You can know the way around, and so can I! It’ll be fun, come on, come on come on come on--”

“That does sound like an adventure,” Roman said slowly.

“Yeah!” Remus nodded his head as fast as he could. “We can make a whole big map and we can both draw on it! It can be like a treasure map, except it’s just the whole house all the way through!”

Roman smiled. “We’ll need a lot of paper, right?”

“Woo!” Remus cheered. He always felt great when Roman liked his ideas. “Let’s go-go-go!”

“Paper,” Roman said as Remus threw open the door. “And pencils.”

“I bet Mom has some!” Remus waved his hands. “Come on, Ro, don’t waste time!”

“I’ve got all the time,” Roman teased, but he followed Remus into the hallway.

Remus was really good at getting places fast. Why wait and walk somewhere, if you could get to the cool place in half the time? He kicked off the edge of the carpet, slid and sped down the hallway, jumped past the other bedrooms, and barely paused at the staircase. Up onto the banister, a little push, and then down!

The rooms spun past him in a spiral, his feet flying, and he giggled wildly as he slipped towards the first floor. Whenever he tilted too hard in one direction, the wind pushed him back into place. Remus could go as fast as he liked, because Roman was there to keep him on course. He could never fall without Roman catching him.

When the banister tapered off in a swirl, Remus catapulted himself off the edge, rolling onto the carpet and springing back up. Roman grinned at him when he solidified enough to have a mouth. Remus didn’t wait for the rest of his face. He barreled across the tiles, skidded around the corner, and burst into the kitchen.

“Mom! Mom-Mom-Mom!” Remus darted over and tugged at her arm. “Mom!”

“What is it?” she asked. She’d been leaning on the counter, checking her phone. “What do you need, Remus?”

“Do you have paper?” Remus spread his hands wide. “Like, super big paper?”

“There should be some in the attic.” She frowned. “What are you up to?”

“Nothin’.” Remus glanced over to Roman, who was curiously poking at the window boxes. “We’re just gonna draw something, is all.”

“We--” Her mouth worked for a few seconds, like she had a lollipop stuck to her tongue. “Oh. Are you sure you don’t want to do something else for your last day of vacation? Go for a walk? It can’t be good for that brain of yours to be cooped up inside.”

Remus knocked on his skull. “It seems fine to me. And it’s raining out!”

“I think it’ll stop for a bit later,” Mom said unconvincingly. “I--I’m just not sure if you want to run around in the house all day. You spend too much time inside it already.”

“I do not.” Remus pouted. “I like it here!”

“I’m glad you do.” She drummed her fingers on the counter before sighing. “Maybe you’ll make some friends at school.”

“Don’t need any friends,” Remus said. “I’ve got a friend.”

“Right. Right.” Mom rubbed her eyes. “Like I said, the paper is in the attic. You might want to ask your father for help with it. And don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I won’t!”

“I know how much that’s worth.” She slipped her phone into her pocket and grabbed a spatula. “Holler if you need me.”

“I will!” Remus gestured to Roman, who reluctantly floated away from the window. “Come on, Ro, we haven’t got all day!”

Accompanied by a long sigh that melted into the wind, Remus and Roman left the kitchen.

“You’ll have to go back in, if you want to make a map,” Roman pointed out.

“I know what the kitchen looks like.” Remus scoffed. “Stove, oven, fridge, things I’m not allowed to touch. Easy-peasy.”

He hopped up the stairs two at a time. Roman drifted along the banister and peeked at the rooms below. Whenever he flipped upside down, his hair pooled around his face like a cloud of smoke. Remus idly batted at him. Roman felt like nothing. Nothing and warm.

“She said the stuff’s in the attic,” Remus said, hopping off the stairs and barreling down the hallway to the other stairs. “And that’s got the fun trapdoor, right?”

“We broke the trapdoor,” Roman said. “It’s just a hole now.”

“Not my fault it can’t handle paintballs.” Remus scrambled up the other stairs. “But Mom said that’s got the paper, so you and I can go get it.”

“She also said you have to ask your dad.”

“She’s stupid.”

“I can just get the paper.” Roman flickered and appeared farther up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t--” Remus didn’t even manage to finish the sentence before Roman was gone. A bit of mist curled from the landing. It drifted to the window, slipped through the glass, and disappeared into the rain. So Roman’s mist could go outside, but Roman couldn’t? What kind of rules were there? Why did Roman never get to go where Remus could?

Remus shivered. It got cold easily in the house. Something about drafts. He felt very small on the staircase, alone, scuffing the red carpet with his toes.

Roman would be back soon. He always got back soon. Roman used to go all sorts of places without Remus, until Remus got tired of trying to find him every time he woke up. Ghosts were better than people, but ghosts were harder to find when they got lost. Remus used to worry that Roman would get really lost. So lost that Remus wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, and he’d forget that Roman was real. And he wouldn’t have any friends, and he’d just be alone in the cold stupid house.

Remus didn’t worry that anymore. At least, he thought he didn’t. Now, with the gray light shining through the windows, he felt ants in his intestines.

“Wait up!” Remus called, and ran after Roman.

He caught up right beneath the attic. Roman was right--it was still a hole. A square hole above the bookcase, with foldable stairs squeezed next to the books.

“Ro!” Remus yelled.

A thump or two, and a misty face reappeared. In the dark, Roman glowed, like glow-in-the-dark shoes. “What?”

“Can I come up?” Remus asked.

“I’m almost done!” Roman disappeared. Another few thumps shook the ceiling. “Catch!”

A pad of paper fell through the hole. Remus tried to catch it, failed, and grabbed it before Roman could notice.

“That’s all I could find.” Pencils and pens rained from the hole, followed by a smaller notebook. “Does it work?”

Remus frowned at the paper. It was small, only about the size of a poster. “Can we fit the whole house on here?”

“We could go room by room.” Roman drifted down to Remus, aimed wrong, and stuck his arm through Remus’ shoulder. Remus laughed and swatted the air. Roman adjusted himself. “Make one map for each room.”

“I guess.” That wouldn’t help with finding rooms, but this was about Roman knowing where the doors were. Remus didn’t want Roman to get lost while Remus was gone. “That works.”

“Fantastic!” Roman looked around. “Which room first?”

“Top to bottom?” Remus pointed at the ceiling. “Let’s start with the attic.”

It took several tries for Roman to lift Remus through the hole. Remus almost hit his head on the side, making Roman drop him out of panic, making Remus almost hit his head on the floor. Roman caught him, of course, but it took another minute for Remus to get Roman to try again. Finally, Remus squeezed through the hole. Floating felt like going up an elevator. If the elevator was wobbly, invisible, and complained a lot.

The attic was a nest of boxes. Every piece of cardboard was labeled, some in writing that Remus didn’t recognize. Old photos. Old jewelry. Old spiderwebs. The stuff in front, Remus knew. Holiday stuff, and extra silverware, and Mom’s favorite Passover sweater. Beyond that, though, was a sea of boxes that hadn’t been touched in years. Remus had explored a few of them, and he’d seen all kinds of old stuff, the kind that was probably worth a lot online. Maybe Mom and Dad should sell it. Roman might get upset, though--Roman didn’t like it when stuff got lost.

Remus cleared a space in the center of the attic and unfolded a piece of paper. He handed Roman a pencil. Roman dropped it by accident. Remus gave Roman another pencil.

“Okay, so we’re gonna draw a square like this.” Remus drew a square as neatly as he could. “And then we add the windows and the doors, and then all the stuff inside the room, and we can label it so we know what’s what!”

Roman nodded. “Can I add sparkles?”

“There aren’t any sparkles in the room.”

“There should be.”

“Add sparkles or whatever.” Remus grinned. “I’m gonna add poop. And lots of spooky ghosts with big pointy teeth.”

“Except I’m saving you from them,” Roman corrected, “since I’m the knight! They’re no match for me.”

“No, they’re my friends too!” Remus waved his hands. “They’re my army! I’ve got a ghost army and they give me cookies and think I’m cool.”

Roman pouted. “I already do that!”

“You’re a dork.”

“Am not!”

Remus snickered and started drawing some of the boxes. Roman doodled around the edges, crossed out some of Remus’ lines, and wrote labels in shaky handwriting. Remus made the room too small on the page, so there was lots of room for extra drawings around the edges. Remus drew three frogs, five rats, and seven ghosts with pointy teeth and blood in their eyeballs. And an octopus, but it didn’t look right.

When they’d managed to fill the whole paper, Remus checked the map against the room. All the boxes were there, plus the one small window at the other end, between slopes of wood. It was still raining. Remus couldn’t move without the floor creaking, and he could barely stand up all the way.

“Where next?” Remus asked, rolling up the map.

“Downstairs,” Roman said, “one room at a time.”

The first bedroom. Most of the bedrooms on the top floors were empty, and the dust made Roman look smudged. This bedroom had a small raggedy doll in one corner and a faded pink bed. When Remus kicked the carpet, it came apart at the edge. The windows overlooked the backyard, which sloped past the gardens and shed before hitting the woods with a crunch. They labeled the map ‘Bedroom’ and Roman drew flowers in the margins. One of the pencils rolled under the pink bed and Remus almost bumped his head trying to get it back.

The first bathroom. It didn’t have a sink anymore, and the toilet was still clogged from the time Remus tried to flush lasagna down it. The whole place smelled like lasagna. Maybe Remus should tell Dad about it, but that’d mean getting in trouble, so he plugged his nose and drew a map. Since there wasn’t much floor, and the tiles looked like barf, Remus put the map against the mirror. The mirror had a long crack in it that made his lines go skewed. He labeled it ‘Lasagna Bathroom.’ Roman drew stink waves coming from the toilet.

Another bedroom. The bed used to have a canopy, but the fabric was gone, leaving a little roof of wood. Remus tried to climb it. He almost got to the top until Roman yanked him back down. Party pooper. Old coats were in the closets, and the drawers were lined with lace. When Remus tried to open the window, the rust yelled. Remus labeled it ‘Canopy Bedroom’ and Roman told him that he spelled canopy wrong. Remus chucked a pen through Roman’s forehead.

Office. Probably where someone did their homework. Remus sat in the chair and kicked at the legs, and Roman ruffled the papers until they flew all over the desk. There wasn’t any ink, or any quill pens, which would have been cool. Remus liked this room because of the clock in the corner. It was broken. Roman said the hands showed the time as two-thirty. Remus wondered what happened at two-thirty. The desk made the map easy to draw on. ‘Clock Room.’ Doodles of dragons in the margins, because Roman got distracted.

They skidded down the stairs and hopped into Remus’ own bedroom. Remus had fought tooth and nail for a bedroom on the third floor, ‘cause he didn’t want Mom and Dad hearing when he brought cool stuff into the room. That map was easy to make. Then was the nursery next door, where babies were probably made, and then the other bathroom. This one didn’t smell like lasagna, which made it better, but the bathtub was yellow, which made it worse. The final room was stripped of furniture. It made for a quick map.

The maps were piling up now. Remus kept them in one tube of paper under his arm. Roman had managed to lose half their pencils. When they scrambled into Mom and Dad’s room, Remus began to poke at the closet before realizing Dad was already there. He dragged Roman back out and proceeded to make up the rest of the map. Roman said it would ruin the accuracy. Remus said that they didn’t need to go in that room anyway, and that if they wanted to finish the maps before dinner, they’d have to hurry.

“How much different is it?” Remus asked in the second bedroom, trying on an old bathrobe. It made him feel like a duke. Maybe he would cut it up and put it in his outfit later. “What’s new about the house?”

“The furniture you brought,” Roman said, drifting above the wardrobe with a pencil in hand. “And bits of the third floor have been changed, because of water damage, I think? They added electricity, and all the bathrooms used to be closets.”

“What? Really?” Remus didn’t know that. “Where were the bathrooms, then?”

“Outside!” Roman laughed at Remus’ face. “In the outhouses, obviously.”

“You pooped in the forest?”

“Not on the forest floor.”

“You pooped in forest toilets?”

“No!” Roman laughed harder. “We didn’t have toilets! We’d poop in a hole!”

“Ew!” Remus said gleefully. “Ugh, I wish I was alive back then, I wanna poop in a hole.”

“You really don’t,” Roman said.

Remus still drew poop-holes on the edge of the map. Roman stuck out his tongue and called him “Revolting.”

“Is it weird?” Remus asked as they mapped out the living room. Big green couch, several lamps, Dad’s recliner, pile of junk on the table. “To have no poop-holes? Or no doors?”

“I don’t always notice,” Roman said. “I can just walk through walls where the doors used to be, and I don’t need to poop. But--yeah, it’s strange.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt. Clouds came away in his fingers. “I suppose everything’s changed a lot since I--got eaten by an alligator.”

“Alligator?” Remus asked.

“It’s a painful tale.” Roman dramatically screwed up his face. “I can hardly bear to recall.”

“Oki-dokey artichoke-y,” Remus said. “And yeah, things have probably changed all over the place. I’m gonna go to fourth grade, but it’ll be nothing like your fourth grade. We’ll learn different things.”

“I suppose so.” Roman doodled small circles in the margins of the map, circles and circles, like a million tornadoes stuck together. “You’ll have to tell me what it’s like.”

“Or you could come and see?”

The circles grew closer together. Tornadoes circling the map. Remus wondered what a tornado would feel like. Didn’t they just pick stuff up and drop it again? Would it be like getting picked up by Roman--tingling and stomach-dropping, everything in limbo?

“It’s really not so bad,” Remus said, falling into his old job of convincing Roman to do stuff. Usually, it was easy. Roman liked having things to do, even illegal ones. “Sometimes the teachers give us candy for the right answer. If you poke an eraser with a pencil, it gets little gray holes.”

Roman looked about to make little gray holes in the paper. Remus tugged the map away from him before he could ruin it.

“I’m just saying,” Remus said. “You could possess me or whatever, or you could just float around and hang out. It’d be fun!”

“I can’t leave the house,” Roman said firmly.

“Who says you can’t?”

“Me.”

“Then say you can!”

“I’m not going to.” Roman tossed the pencil at the map. “You should erase the couch. It’s on the wrong side.”

Remus scribbled out the couch and put it in the right place, but now all the other bits of furniture were wrong. “Friends go to school with each other.”

“Human friends do.” Roman was flashing red all over now, and Remus didn’t know whether he was upset or angry or just in the mood for red. “Thought you liked ghost ones better.”

Remus was pretty sure that meant ‘I thought you liked me better.’

And he did. He liked Roman way better. But--there were perks about human friends. Parents didn’t make fun of them behind their backs. They were easier to shove when they were being jerks. And they didn’t go missing so easily. It was harder to lose a person, because they were all flesh and blood and heartbeat. Ghosts were easier to lose. They were just sky with eyes and a nose. Just air.

Playing hide-and-seek was fun, but only when it was a game they agreed on. Only when everyone knew the rules. Only when Remus could give up and Roman would float out of a closet with a pie-eating grin. Hide-and-seek wasn’t fun if someone just kept hiding. It wasn’t fun if someone had to get left behind.

Ghosts were better than people. So far, ghosts had been nicer, and cooler, and better at drawing. So far, ghosts had stuck around.

But ghosts couldn’t go to school. Ghosts couldn’t go shopping. Ghosts couldn’t eat potato chips or a latke or a really good cookie. Ghosts disappeared and Remus had to go find them. Ghosts needed maps or they’d get lost in their own house.

Remus liked Roman. That made things hard sometimes.

Circles and circles, a tornado all around the living room. They were almost done with the maps, unless they wanted to map out the yard as well, and it was raining too hard for that. Plus, Roman never left the house.

Remus stared at the maps. Maybe Roman was worried he’d get lost.

Maybe a map would help with that.

“We’ve just got a few rooms left,” Remus said. “And then we’ve got the shed, and then we’re done!”

“Great!” Roman looked happy at the change of topic. “Do we really need the shed, though? It’s not inside the house.”

“It’s still a building.” Remus gathered up the map and led the way to the dining room. “We can go outside and sketch the shed, just to get all the maps we need.”

Roman looked outside. “The weather’s bad. You’ll need your rain boots.”

“What’s the fun if you can’t splash in the puddles?” Remus set a new page of the map on the dining room table. Roman began to draw food around the edges. “And once we’ve gone to the shed and back, we could make this into a huge book, if we wanted. Color the pages and everything.”

Roman hummed, occupied with shading the edge of a blueberry. Remus checked the window. The rain actually seemed to be stopping. Definitely a good sign!

The dining room drawing was quick. After the entrance hall, the closet, the back room, and the kitchen--which they drew from memory, to avoid Mom--the maps were almost complete. A dozen pages of color and line, a true masterpiece, with several bad words written very small under the doodles. Remus tried to high-five Roman. For obvious reasons, the high-five did not work.

“Just the shed now!” Remus tucked the roll of maps under his arm and bounced to the back door. “Okay--raincoat, boots, umbrella? No room--”

“It isn’t raining so much,” Roman said. “Still, be careful, there could be lightning.”

“Nah, we’ll be okay, just in and out!” Remus tugged on his rain boots. They had little ducks on them. “And ghosts can’t get hit by lightning anyway.”

“You can.”

“I’m not a coward.” Remus pulled his raincoat over his shoulders. It felt like wax. When the back door opened, rain dripped from the doorway and dampened the mat. “Oh, those are some wicked puddles! Maybe I can go puddle-stomping later.”

“Don’t get the maps wet.” Roman motioned to the doorway. “Go ahead.”

Remus stepped through the doorway. A small path led past the boring plant garden, through the less-boring flower garden, and down the slopes of grass. The shed was nestled by the edge of the woods. It had a tin roof, and Remus could already hear the ping-ping of raindrops on it.

“Come on,” Remus said, wiping droplets from his hair. The rain was manageable enough. The grass squelched under his boots. “Ro?”

Roman looked confused. “I’m not coming.”

“You’re not?” Remus’ face fell. “Why not?”

“It’s outside of the house?” Roman sounded like he didn’t get it. “I don’t go outside the house.”

“It’s barely outside,” Remus said. “It’s, like, still in the yard.”

Roman moved away from the door.

“Come on.” Remus didn’t want to beg like a baby, but Roman needed to get out here, he needed to go outside. “I can’t do the map without you. You need to draw on it!”

“I can doodle when you get back!”

“No!” Remus yelled. “No, that’s not the right order!”

“Well, I’m not going!” Roman yelled back at him. “Leave me alone, Remus!”

Remus screwed up his face. “You’re being stupid! It’s just a stupid yard. I’ll be with you the whole fricking time. What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t leave the house!”

“Why can’t you?” Remus almost screamed. “If you want me to get it, actually tell me what you know! Stop being so vague and tell me stuff!”

Roman looked about to cry. Could ghosts cry? Did Remus want to find out? “I said, leave me alone!”

“Fine!” Remus turned on his heel. “Fine, I’ll do the rest of the stupid map on my own. I’ll go to school on my own and leave you here to sulk, just like you want. Have fun. See if I care.”

Roman might have said something. Remus decided not to hear it.

The yard was muddy. In a better mood, Remus would have smeared some mud over his face. Instead he just kicked at it. Kick, kick, kick, all the way past the stupid plants and the still-stupid flowers. All the way down the stupid grass to the stupid shed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was cold outside. Remus felt cold in his rain coat, and wet, even though his skin was dry. The maps crinkled under his arm. The sky boiled with dark clouds. When he glanced back, Roman was still standing in the door, a flash of white and red against the coats and the darkness. Remus stuck his tongue out. Stupid ghost. He wished he couldn’t see Roman, like everyone else.

Remus didn’t waste time making the shed map look nice. No point, if Roman was never gonna use it. ‘Shed.’ No doodles. A wonky square with some sticks for the garden tools and some circles for the sacks of hay. It all looked stupid. It wasn’t a good map. Didn’t matter, though, ‘cause Roman never went anywhere.

The shed was cold and empty. It was dark, too, lit only by a lightbulb. The rain ping-ping-pinged at the roof. The wood shivered. Remus’ face felt very red and very hot. Count to ten, Mom always said when he got mad. One. Two. Three. Four. And he knew the rest.

Maybe he’d learn more numbers in fourth grade. Third grade had been up to a hundred or two hundred. Maybe they’d make it even further. There were infinite numbers, right? They’d never run out of numbers. They’d just run out of time.

Fourth grade was gonna be no fun if Roman wasn’t there.

Remus rolled up the map and stuck it under his arm. When he opened the shed door, the wind rustled the edges of the papers. His fingers felt cold and wet, like bits of popsicle. The house teetered on the hill. He could see all the windows, all the rooms they’d went to--the bedrooms, the bathroom with lasagna in the toilet, the stairs, the living room. Remus’ own bedroom. It all kind of made sense when he looked at it from the outside. It was like a tier cake. Room on top of room.

It looked like a haunted house, with the trees around it black and shadowy, waving in the wind. With birds flying across the wild grey sky. It was a haunted house. Roman was still there, a smudge of white, and Remus wondered why he got to see him. Why they stayed the same height and looked the same age. Why Roman had gotten stuck here in the first place, with no one to keep him company.

If Remus died, he’d want to see the world. He would never want to stay just where he’d started. What was the point of being a ghost if you didn’t do anything new?

Maybe he should ask Roman that. Maybe this time it’d work.

Remus climbed up the hill towards the house.

The wind picked up, blowing at his back. He adjusted the map and kept moving. It took all his strength to keep his boots from sticking in the mud, and all his self-control not to face-plant into the mud. The trees blew behind him, and when he looked back, he saw he’d left the shed light on. It glowed yellow next to the woods. It made him feel even colder.

Rain was starting to fall again. It was going to storm again. Of course it was. Remus was going to have a rainy, wet, no-good last day of summer. Stuck inside the house. It couldn’t be good for him.

It couldn’t be good for either of them.

But here they were.

“Hi,” was all that Roman said when Remus reached the doorway.

“Got the map.” Remus’ nose was starting to run. “It’s cold out there.”

“Close the door.” Roman poked curiously at the papers, avoiding Remus’ eyes. “Can I see it?”

Remus handed Roman the stack of maps. Roman leafed through them, pausing at the shed one, then skimmed the rest. The rain began to pick up outside. Water dripped from Remus’ boots onto the floor.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Roman asked.

“What?”

“I can’t find the map of our bedroom.” Roman looked confused. “Did you leave it in the house somewhere?”

Remus felt cold again. “I--I don’t think so.”

Roman looked past him. Remus turned around to see rain beginning to fall on the grass, and a long trampled walk back to the shed.

“I dropped it,” Remus realized. “Oh no, I dropped it--it’s gonna get all wet!”

“It’s okay,” Roman said, sounding like he didn’t know whether it actually was. “You know the way around your bedroom.”

“You bumped into the wall,” Remus said. He scanned the grass for any sign of the map. Nothing was there. It could have fallen into mud, or gotten crumpled, or blown away in the wind. “We need that! And I just lost it! I gotta get it back, Ro--”

“We’ll make another one.” Roman looked sympathetic. “It’s okay--”

“We don’t have time to make another one!” Humiliatingly, Remus felt his eyes burn. “‘Cause we’re eating dinner soon, and then I gotta go tomorrow for shopping, and then I’ve got school! And you gotta have the map by then, so you don’t get lost when I’m gone!”

Roman flickered red. “What?”

“I gotta get it.” Remus shoved the rest of the maps towards Roman. They fell through him and hit the floor. “If you’d been there, I wouldn’t have dropped them.”

Roman looked hurt. “You might have anyway.”

“Yeah, I might have anyway, shut your hole. No one cares.” Remus made a frustrated noise. “Fine, it’s all my fault and I got the map ruined. Shut up. I gotta go get it.”

Before Roman could argue, Remus stepped into the rain. It was coming down faster now. The map would probably be halfway ruined already. If he could find it, though, he’d be able to dry it. And Roman would know where the door was.

But he’d lost the map. It was lost somewhere in the backyard, stuck somewhere between grey skies and grey grass and grey rain. Remus couldn’t see it. He squinted and he cupped his eyes and he blinked the water from his eyelashes, but he couldn’t see it. There wasn’t a single flash of white.

A rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Get back inside,” Roman called. “This is dangerous.”

“I can’t find it!” Remus yelled back. He sounded panicked. Was he panicking? “I can’t find it, Ro, I need to find it--I don’t wanna leave it here--”

Another rumble of thunder. Remus was cold. He didn’t even want to walk deeper into the yard. The woods were dark and the shed was flickering and he felt frozen in his boots. His skin tingled. His breath froze.

And then the world deepened.

Two sides to everything. Like he’d grown extra eyes. It always felt like this--like a video with more pixels, or cooler colors, or binoculars attached. He could never pinpoint what he could see. He just knew it was--more than usual.

The world was a riot of color and darkness, swirling like a tornado, and Remus laughed.

“Thanks,” he said as he took a step forward.

Or tried to. “Don’t,” he hissed back at himself in Roman’s voice. “I am not going to try walking again. We’re just looking right now. Look around.”

Remus looked.

Hide-and-seek. If he was a map, where would he hide?

Color. Darkness and scribbles and circles going around, but that was all in the margins, that didn’t matter. Thunder rumbled. He didn’t jump. The rain seemed to go right through him.

White.

A piece of white, like a flag, stuck in the boring plant garden.

Remus whooped. Or maybe it was Roman who did. Who knew?

“Can I walk now?” he asked, and Roman groaned in response. Remus’ boots loosened. He ran through the rain and grabbed the map with one hand, swiping at it with a wet hand, until he realized that did no good. The colors were running. He tucked it into his raincoat, and the raincoat smeared across his hand as well, the paper leaking white and red.

Too much. Way too much. Maybe there’d been a reason that Roman didn’t want to do this. Everything was double, switching and colliding, holes opening and spinning dizzily in the air.

“It’s okay,” Roman said with Remus’ mouth. “Close your eyes, I’ll find our way back.”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut.

And Roman guided them back to the door.

When the rain stopped, so did the dizziness. Remus almost fell against the wall. Roman collapsed against the opposite one, running his hands through his hair and pulling at his sleeves. The door slammed shut. Maybe that was Roman, or maybe it was the wind that began to howl at the house. A bad storm. They’d been lucky to avoid it.

“Is the map okay?” Remus opened his eyes and peeled the paper away from his raincoat. “Oh frick, it’s all smeared.”

“It looks fine to me.” Roman drifted over and traced the edges. “All my doodles are dry, and I can see where everything is.”

Remus blinked the water out of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, so can I.”

“Good job,” Roman said, and Remus looked over at him. “It’s a nice part of a nice map.”

“Thanks,” Remus said awkwardly. People didn’t give him compliments very much. Maybe that was a ghost thing. “You did good with the art.”

Roman beamed at him. Red and white, a warm blanket around his shoulders.

“And--uh--” Remus motioned to the door. “You went--”

“I don’t like thunderstorms,” Roman said simply. “And I wanted to help you find it.”

Remus found himself smiling. “So you can go outside.”

“I can.”

“Why don’t you?”

Roman ruffled the edge of the map. It was already drying. “Because there aren’t good maps like this one, so I’m not sure if I could find my way back.”

“You made it back without a map today.” Remus kicked off his rain boots and shrugged off his coat. “Plus, if you went to school, I’d be there. I’d make sure you got back alright.”

Roman chewed his lip.

“It’d be okay,” Remus said. “You’d see me the whole time. And--you wouldn’t have to be alone in this house all year. You spend too much time in it already.”

Roman laughed a bit. “I don’t mind. You’re there.”

“I’m not gonna be.” Remus rubbed his arms, and the chill began to fade. “It’s the house or me, bro. And I’m pretty sure you like me better.”

Roman’s smile was smaller now, but still just as bright.

“I could make you a map,” Remus finally offered. “Of the way to school and back. Just in case?”

“I’d like that.” Roman paused. “I...it might be a while before I decide to go that far from the house. You might have to torment your teachers on your own.”

“Oh, I’m great at that.” Remus led Roman into the living room. He could already smell dinner. Mom waved, and he waved back, and Roman waved, too. Mom couldn’t see him, but Roman was polite like that. Maybe she’d even wave back at Roman one day, if they were lucky. “And--yeah, take your time. We’ve got a lot of it.”

“True.” Roman drifted along, a few feet above ground. He glowed like lightning, and red flickered in time with the thunder, impossible not to see. “I’ll find what works, okay?”

“Okay!” Remus spread the maps on the table. The lines glistened--a tornado of doodles and a house of scribbles. Maybe not much of a map. But it was fun to make, and helpful to find, and a good haunted map for a haunted house. “Are you gonna stick around to staple these together?”

“Of course,” Roman said, pencil already in hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Remus smiled. “Neither am I.”

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#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #ghost au #creativitwins #sanders sides fic #averywrites #yeahh this got really long again and i don't know how #i swear it was just going to be today's warmup fic #anyway here kid!side content i have homework and i must go

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