#I fucking hate TAP and I knew better than to book with them. but I still did it. stupid

[waugh-bao]

[primalsharkman]

Petty? Pretty.

Kim Chaewon x M Reader | 🔞 Smut

[Enemies to Lovers, Academic Rivals, Fake Dating]

Word Count: 5,385

You sighed as you put the pen down at the table. It was your final exam for the year, meaning that all your hard work has officially paid off. The projects you made were certainly extraordinary, definitely leagues apart for the company you were in. However, the pressure of coming in second was like a pump shotgun being shot into the back of your head multiple times. You know, you cannot let Chaewon win again this year.

Of course, Kim Chaewon. The school's greatest academe mind since, ever. Always getting the top grades, the top approval, and all the top boys. The latter which, you really didn't care for. But she had the run of the mill, taking the best with her for her own pleasure. Stories and rumors of her taking the university's quarterback spread around like wildfire. She'd deny it, but everyone knew otherwise.

You roamed around the halls in deep thought, the heavy weight of your books in your hand was very aching, but you were close to dumping them into your locker.

"Finally..." You sighed after arriving at your locker and opening the combination, and only then dumping the books inside.

Vacation was on your mind, but you knew the year isn't over yet. A familiar scent was on your tail, and you knew exactly who wears that specific perfume in your school.

Turning around, you found the academic goddess herself, standing beside you with her bag slinging by her side and giving you a stare. "I hope you did better than you did last year, it was almost too easy for me to beat you." Chaewon said, confidently and with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at her and crossed your arms, "I've had enough of your gloating, Kim. You're an egomaniac and you really need to get yourself checked before you break down once you see I did better than you."

"Big talk for someone who's only ever beaten me once, in a team debate, no less." Her voice pierced through your heart, and it did hurt. Sure, you did never beat her one on one, but you fought her so hard that you'd get recognized and put in the same conversations as her name did.

"What do you want, Kim? Are you just going to ogle your tits in front of me? Because let's be real, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years." She just chuckled at the statement and gave your crotch a light tap using her wrist.

"Trust me, I wouldn't fuck you in a million years too. But there is something I need." That was when you just smiled at her and closed your locker before walking away from her.

Chaewon panicked and followed your pace, keeping up by your side. "H-hey, I just said I need your help!" You waved her off before she grabbed your wrist and sped up to drag you away from the halls and into an empty area away from the students.

"Listen, I know we've had our differences but this is about prom." At this point was already looking at you like she made up her mind and she will do everything to convince you.

You sighed. "Let me guess, you want me to go with you to the prom?"

"Yes."

"I don't think we should, Chaewon."

"But we could win prom king and queen."

"Does that even matter?"

"If it means beating Yunjin and her very clingy boyfriend, yes."

You just stared into her eyes after that quick exchange, but you knew how insufferable the school couple was. They were everywhere, being flirty and just rubbing it in people's noses. It was a sight.

Pacing around the room and opening a window, it was easy to see that this was an opportunity to get your name trending again. But was it worth it when Chaewon's name is going to be beside yours?

"Okay, but I will dictate the ground rules. You will wear a black dress, you will do the talking, telling people that we got together recently and that you were the first to fall for me." Chaewon just looked at you angrily while the demands were being listed.

"Ugh, fine. I'll pay that price just to stick it to her. Just see how she likes it." She may hate you, but she really doesn't like being upstaged, and unfortunately for Yunjin, she got in the way.

A quick thought entered your mind. "Oh and one more thing," Chaewon turned around. "... You're not allowed to fall in love with me."

She just smiled, "Won't be a problem, I'll see you at my place then. Don't forget to bring flowers. Ciao~" She said as she left the vicinity. You were left standing there with nothing but your bag in hand, and shortly afterwards you went home.

_____________________________________________

The drive to Chaewon's was fast, thanks to the traffic not holding people up. Her apartment was still 3 floors up, so you had to climb up the flgiht of stairs to reach her door and give her a knock.

"God why did I listen to her..." You whisper to yourself while holding a bouquet of flowers in your hand as your cheeks fill with a red blush.

Chaewon opened the door and gave you a judging smirk. "For once, you finally listen to me huh?"

Embarrassed, you just looked away and handed her the flowers, which she gladly took and had a whiff of them. "They're pretty, okay? Don't be too shy, you're acting like this is real." She giggled as she went down the stairs waiting for you.

You opened the door for her, and she went inside without a word. You breathed out a sigh of relief and went back inside the driver's seat and started driving.

It was mostly a silent trip, neither even giving each other exchanging hi's and just humming to the song playing on the radio. It was nerve-wracking for you, as she can just say anything crazy in a second.

But then you heard a sweet and soft voice speak, it was soothing to the ear and yet you know Chaewon is never this soft and sweet. "So, this is it. Time to act flirty, you'll take care of me right?" You just nodded at her, "Just behave like a good girl and we'll win your petty prize." Getting out of the car and you open the door and take her hand before guiding her inside the venue.

The vibe around the prom was magnificent. It was themed as a romantic getaway, with beach designs and a drawing of a sunset as the backdrop for the stage. You can only look around as the people start filling in the place and you stare at Chaewon.

You weren't kidding yourself, she was looking spectacular. She left the flowers in the car but even with just one flower tucked on her ear, just looking at her makes your heart skip a beat.

You found some seats for you and Chaewon to sit in, it was in plain sight so everyone could see that the two of you are in this prom together. You put your arm around Chaewon and she gladly put her hands on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch.

"Dangerous game you're playing here. Be careful not to touch anything." You gulp as you say those words.

You only heard a small chuckle as she whispered, "Try not to get hard okay? We don't want you going in the bathroom leaving me out here don't we?" She sure has her way of being very provocative.

Yunjin and her boyfriend finally showed up, dressed perfectly to compliment each other's styles. Everyone was astounded at their sight, looking like the royal couple, everyone was reminded of who they really are.

The grunt Chaewon releases between her lips was pretty cute, she was angry, but most of all she was very petty. "Okay, time to turn up the heat." Those were the last words you heard before you felt her lips crash into yours.

Her kiss felt like floating in space freely. It felt freeing and wonderful. Next thing you know, you were making out with your rival and the event hasn't even begun. You could get lost in this feeling forever, and you wanted to stay in this moment. Somehow, someway, Kim Chaewon is a perfect match for you. The way she holds you, the way she wraps her hands around you, it is truly something worthwhile.

These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud music entering your ears once you realize she let go. "...What the fuck was that for?" was all you can conjure up for your first, and possible the best kiss of your life.

"Gotta show them who's boss. And right now, we have the mental advantage. Everyone's looking at us right now." You did look around to see them whispering and muttering to each other about what they saw, even Yunjin was perplexed when she took her seat nearby.

"If this doesn't end in sex, i'm dropping you off the side of the highway." You claimed jokingly.

"Ha! As if you'd actually want to fuck me."

"With a kiss like that, now I know why all the boys want you."

"Is that a fact?"

"Oh shut up, i'm giving you a genuine compliment." Chaewon smiles after hearing that and gives you another kiss. This time, it's even more passionate. Your pants were starting to tighten and it got really, really heated. You knew you had to get some food to calm yourself down before your primal instincts take over and bend her down the table and fuck her brains out.

Once you broke the kiss, you asked her. "Do you want me to get you a plate or no?"

"Okay, boyfriend. Go get me a plate." She hit your balls again as you stood up and you lightly kicked at her feet before walking towards the catering.

Right now, you didn't give a shit about the deal you made. It doesn't matter whether you win prom king and queen, because pretending to be her partner was already a thin line to walk on, but now that she's being very playful and teasing you to great extent, you might not last the night.

You got her the plate, and you sat back down next to her. Before she could even mutter a word you just dug into the food. Thankfully she didn't say anything and just ate.

Thank god no one bothered you two, just having people pass by and smile or even give a simple wave is enough. Chaewon was a tiger in academics but socially, she is so much worse. There's a reason she doesn't have a clique, or even a best friend. She just preferred studying and going at it alone. Even with projects, you saw firsthand how she asked the professors if she could do it alone. She was granted her wishes, and she's done better than all of them. You were no slouch of course but, you're not insane enough to do group work solo.

"Let's go dance. We need to be as cute as we can." She said as she put down her fork and wiped her lips with a tissue.

"Don't fucking tap my balls again, you stand up first." Chaewon nodded and stood up, waiting for you to join her.

Taking her hand, you guided her to the dance floor and thankfully, the music was set low. There were a few people on the floor including the royal couple but the spotlight was on you. Nobody thought the two best minds in the entire university would be on good terms, let alone dating.

Chaewon did her best to act as subby as possible, knowing that it was her best chance to win those votes. She smiled, giggled at your jokes and even started talking to the other students on the dance floor while you roamed her around in the dance. If this was the Chaewon you saw in school everyday, you might've just fallen for her instantly.

"Hey, look at me for a while would you?" You said as you grabbed her chin and made her face you.

"What do you want? I'm trying to win us some favor here..." She said in a quiet but rage-filled voice.

"Is it so bad for a couple to actually look at each other and talk? Come on, you know better than that."

Chaewon just nodded and looked at you. Your heart melted through every wall you ever put up once she did. How in the hell are you falling for Chaewon? You know how she is. You know every dirty tactic and every move she's done to you. You hated how she tapped your balls everytime she found an opening. You hated the way she liked other boys. You hated it when you found out she was absent for a week due to a fever. You hated missing her. You hated falling for her at every step of the way.

Chaewon yelped when you firmly grabbed her waist, pulled her close and straightened her hair out behind her ear. "If you're gonna kiss me, I'd do it that way too."

You ignored her words and just kissed her. You didn't care if everyone was watching, you didn't care if anyone actually wanted to see it. All you wanted to do was kiss your rival. The rival you desperately tried to hate because you knew she'd never love you. The rival you never asked out because she was too busy studying her tits out. The rival you only ever loved.

As you let the kiss go, Chaewon stared at you for a moment. She immediately let that go and went back to being the same Chaewon you know. For that night, she belonged to you. And you took full advantage of that fact. You ate, you danced, you loved. It was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

It was over soon enough, and you remembered why you were there in the first place. You breathed in heavily and made Chaewon put her arm around your waist as you waited for the announcements. You didn't even listen to the announcement, all you did was feel her touches and let her hear the names she wanted to being called. Next thing you know, you were up there with her, taking a ribbon and a crown. It was pretty funny looking, but seeing Chaewon's face light up is a pretty good sight. You smiled at the crowd and thanked them for the vote.

This was when Chaewon broke free. She let you go and went to the car so she could celebrate her victory. You followed suit and went back in your car.

"Well, i've had my fill of achievements for the day. Take me home." You just nodded and drove. It was a pretty slow night drive. You didn't go over 40, mostly because you just wanted to enjoy her company more.

"That's all you wanted? Seems pretty shallow to go through all that trouble." You said.

"Then I'm shallow. All I care about is that I am on top again." Spoken as softly as she could.

"You do realize we're gonna have to break up during the summer right? I can't fake date you forever."

"Then let's break up."

"Fine."

"Fine." She just crossed her arms and sat on the passenger's seat and stayed quiet.

----------------------------------------------------------

You parked your car in the back, you wanted to clear your head space once you drop her off back at her door but you just stayed in the car first, and so did she.

The crickets chirping made the deafening sound of night feel, not so deafening. You took time to process everything that happened in there, and you looked at Chaewon, who seems to be doing the same thing.

"Hey, can I see your cock?"

"What the fuck, Chaewon?"

"Don't be a fucking pussy about it."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Why not?"

"Because... because I'm not sure if I like you or not."

"What?" Her eyes grew wider as you dropped those words.

"Just... let me think, okay? You were out here all night flirting with me like... it felt real chaewon. It felt real, all of it."

"You don't have to think about it..."

"Oh so now you're trying to restrict my thoughts of you? Don't play games with me Chaewon."

"I'm not!"

"Then why—"

"Just listen to me! You boar-headed dipshit! I like you too! Okay?! Is that enough?!"

You two just looked at each other with your eyebrows furrowed and neither of you were able to land a word after she confessed her feelings to you.

"I like you too. I didn't want to, but I like you! Get that through your thick fucking skull." She said angrily.

It was a lot to process. You both broke the rule of not falling for the other. And now you are at each other's throats because you both were confused and angry that the person both of you were trying to beat at every turn, was someone you actually were into.

If academics didn't mean a thing, you two would probably have hit it off at some point. But unfortunately, that pressure got to you both. For the first time, the weight of that pressure was actually lifted and you could only breathe out a strong, relieving sigh.

"Damn your kisses, Chaewon." You joked.

"Oh boo-hoo." She went for you and kissed you again. This time climbing out of her chair and sitting on your lap. This time, the kiss was different. It was more carnal than romantic. There was more tongue involved as you swing yours with hers and intertwined then as the shared kiss continued.

You grabbed her waist, and slowly reached out those hands into her ass. She gave out a lot moan and adjusted her position so you have full access to her plump, round ass.

She leaned her kisses towards your cheek and towards your ear, where you can hear every small moan and whimper she lets out of her mouth.

The hands you had around her ass were fondling them and enjoying the soft cushions they gave you. Chaewon was already getting wet, but you have yet to know that. You didn't want to go over what she considers her boundaries so you didn't move a muscle.

She felt your cock under her getting bigger and she just looked into your eyes. "Hey... we should take this inside."

You nodded and opened the door so she can climb out. You followed her and locked your car before heading up those dreaded stairs to her door. Once the two of you get there, she immediately opened it with her keys and dragged you inside by your collar.

It only took a shut of the door for her to throw herself at you with another kiss, jumping into your arms so your hands can carry her thighs as she wrapped her legs around you.

"Fuck..." you could only mutter as she rained down heavy kisses on your lips, your ears, and even your neck. It seemed like she knew what she was doing, and for your virgin ass, you went along for the ride.

"Take me to my bed. And take that goddamn suit off already."

"Yes, baby." You dragged your feet through the room and plopped her down the bed. You untied your necktie and threw it across the room. She kneeled on the bed as you stood over her, and she grabbed your polo and unbuttoned each and every single one while giving you the hungriest look a horny woman can give.

It was obvious she was having fun playing this game, and it felt like hell for you. Your cock was twitching in your pants and it started to hurt. She noticed you wincing and took off the polo before unbuckling the belt in your pants.

Her head was dangerously close to your cock and your hand moved itself to brush her hair and hold it down to your crotch, which was her eye-level. She pulled it all down and your cock sprung to hit her nose.

"Ow..." she said as she grabbed the hard cock in her hands, smiling.

"Your hands are pretty nice..."

"It fits your cock really well." She giggled and hummed as she dragged her hand down the length of your cock as you moan out quietly. She knew not to put too much pressure and she knew the perfect way to touch your cock and give you the pleasure your body is used to.

All you could do was grab her hair and turn it into a makeshift ponytail, where she smirked. "You know what it means when a guy does that to a girl right?"

"I think so. Do I get a guess?"

"No. You just get to feel your consequences." Her lips enveloped itself around the head of your cock, and the heat from her mouth makes you hold on the ponytail tighter.

She looks up at you as she takes your cock in painfully slow, licking along the way. You were panicking as the pleasure was getting too much for you, and Chaewon was just getting started. You didn't want to be a 10-second wonder.

She kept working around your cock, drenching it in her spit and sucking it like it was her final project. She's making sure it felt perfect.

Your legs were shaking at this point, your cheeks turning red at the possibility of you not being able to control yourself and not cum in her mouth. These sensations got you to let her hair go and put your hand on the wall nearby so you won't fall down.

Chaewon dragged her mouth down to the last inch of your cock, and tightly pulled out giving your cock a light lick at the end before she sat up and looked at you. "You're gonna cum, aren't you?"

"I'm trying so hard not to." You decided to be honest with her.

She pulled your waist down so you're sitting beside her. She gave you a smile and said, "Cum inside my mouth. I really want to know how nerd tastes." She giggled as she went down on your cock again, not holding out anymore and giving you the most sloppy and disgustingly heavenly blowjob you've ever had.

Her tongue was circling around your length as she bobbed her head up and down. You couldn't even speak due to how good she was sucking your cock. All you could do was grip her sheets and moan out her name again and again.

Her lips kissed your underside, and her free hand gave your balls some love, fondling them. She took your cock inside again and deepthroated every inch you can give her.

She was blushing. She enjoyed sucking cock, especially if that cock belonged to someone she knew on a personal level from many years ago. Sure, it was all on hatred, but she knew you better than anyone, and that turned her on even more.

Your cock was twitching in her mouth, she knew you weren't gonna last longer, so she pumped and sucked and the same time, and that was all it took for you to explode.

"M-ngmhHgh! Chaewon...! mmgh! fuck!" That was the most coherent sentence you can come up with while your body was in ecstacy. Orgasming to the point not even you have reached before.

Her mouth stayed where it was, your cum filling her cheeks as she swallowed each strand of cum, one stroke after another.

When she was done, she sucked your cock to clean it, and wiped her lips off before laughing.

"Nerd doesn't really taste different from jock. But I gotta say, your cock was so much cleaner and doesn't smell as bad."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yeah, no one sucks cock better than me."

You sat up and put a hand around her thigh. "So, what's next?"

She smiled as she pushed you down, "You're the first guy to ask for what I want."

You turned your head to look at her and she was taking off her dress, and you were watching her show off her body to you.

You were blushing but the next thing you see was her towering over you, and you get a VIP look of her beautiful pussy. It was shaven, it was perfect, and you wanted a piece.

Your mouth opened and she smiled before lowering herself down to you and sitting down on your face. She grinded slowly as you moved your tongue to eat her pussy out.

Her taste was a new sensation to you. The first time you've ever ate pussy, and you're already getting addicted to her taste. She was sweating and that only added to the tang of her flavor, you dug your tongue deep in her folds.

Your tongue found her hole opening up and you slid it in. "Oh..! Good boy... that's a good boy..." Chaewon muttered while hissing and holding on to your hair.

You closed your eyes and moved you head to tongue fuck her, as she moaned loudly like she had no neighbors. She gripped her bedside and bounced on your tongue as she kept moaning.

"Yes... baby... oh fuck! come on..." She kept hissing and moaning under the sensation of your upper lip kissing her clit and tongue fucking her. You picked up the pace and held on her thighs, taking your tongue out of her hole and focusing on licking the clit fast and good.

"Oh it has been a while! Yes! Don't you dare fucking stop, don't stop, don't stop!" She kept screaming while grinding her pussy on your tongue on her clit. You put more pressure by pushing your tongue into her sensitive clit more and more as she gets brought to the brink of her orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum! Please, don't stop! I'll get off if I want you to stop, okay? Please just... ah! Keep going!" Chaewon says as she reaches her orgasm and grinds on you harder as her moans become more hoarse and heavy.

You kept licking her to destroy her senses and feel an seemingly un-ending orgasm for Chaewon. She got off you and laid down the bed before catching her breath.

"Where... how did you learn... to eat pussy like that?"

"I never did. I only know the clit is the most sensitive part so, I guessed."

"You're a natural then, god damn. Despite being a nerd, that knowledge came in handy. Try using that knowledge to beat me next year okay?"

"What if I beg you to lose for once?"

"That's a price you don't wanna know." She smirked as she recovers.

"More pussy eating?"

"I have a list of demands. I'd rather show them to you before we start school next year."

"Good. But we're not done here Chae." You show her your hardened cock once again, showing her you have recovered from her blowjob.

Chaewon smirks and lifts her ass a little bit. "I want it deep, hard, and fast. None of that slow, methodical, romantic bullshit."

"You got it." You lined yourself up behind her and didn't even hesitate to stroke your cock and slide it deep in her.

"Mmph! Good! Just like that." All Chaewon could do was moan on her pillow as you started picking up the pace and fucking her pussy like your life depended on it.

You grabbed her ass and spanked it, earning a yelp from the girl. She kept asking for more, so you put a strong hold on her hips and crashed your cock deep inside her wet pussy again and again and again.

The sound of your sex was echoing across the room, it was erotic and accompanied with her moans after every thrust, it was truly music to your ears.

"Yes! Your cock is so big inside me! I love every single inCh of it! Mmm!"

Slapping her ass, you kept your mouth open and joined her moaning. "Good god Chaewon, your pussy is so good! So wet and so fucking delicious." You gave her ass another slap.

"Ah! So it is! Fuck I wanna fuck you again and again. Please, make me cum again, make me yours and I won't ever be a bitch around you again!"

"Good girl, I like that." You pulled her arms back into you and grabbed her head so your face is buried in her neck while you fuck her from behind.

"F-Fuck! Rub my clit!" You follow her command and rub her clit in the same pace you're fucking her pussy.

Her moans get even louder and you had to use your hand to cover it up so her neighbors wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Her bed was rocking and it was making a lot of noise. Between the creaking, the moaning, the sloshing sounds the sex was making, it was very hard to hide the fact you were fucking her like a machine.

She kept begging for you to cum inside her and you keep telling her to wait. You were looking for your orgasm but she was ready to unload hers.

"I'm gonna fucking squirt all over! Please I want your cum! I'm gonna fucking... ah!" You pulled out as you felt gushes of water from under her. You held on to her neck as she gripped your arm tightly while she was squirting. Your arm reached down and rubbed her clit so it felt extra pleasureable to her.

"God! I made a mess..." She yelped before you took her body and lied it down on the dry part of the bed and kissed her hard.

You slid your cock back in and fucked her in missionary. Her legs were up in the air as she was moaning in your kiss. The thrusts your cock was giving to her kept sloshing as the rest of her squirt and the never ending wetness of her pussy was lubricating your cock to the point where it looked like cum.

She already came multiple times and she wasn't going to stop, until you did. "What is taking so long?! Mm! My pussy is destroyed here... you need to fill me up, please daddy."

That was the last straw. The final push you needed. Once you heard her say daddy, your senses kicked into overdrive and you fucked her like a machine one more time before unloading your second round of cum in her pussy.

This orgasm hit you like a truck, it felt good, but once it was finished you feel like you have been ran over by a truck. It was tiring and you were drained.

"I guess... daddy is the magic word then." Chaewon giggled as she wrapped her arms around you and pecked your lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you. You must've been so surprised."

"No, actually. I knew you were tightening up when your cock pulsated aggresively. So I expected the creampie sooner."

"God damn it, you're not gonna get pregnant now are you?"

"I'll be okay. I wouldn't have let you fuck if I was in danger of getting pregnant anyway." She giggled again.

"Really? Even after the kissing we've done earlier?" You sound a bit perplexed at this point.

"I'm not an idiot. I'm smarter than you, remember? Don't feel superior just because I called you daddy once."

"I'm just curious, no need to gloat."

She kissed your cheek and chuckled. "I'm okay, you don't need to worry."

You nodded and pulled out her before lying down beside. "So, what now?"

"What about it?" She looked upwards at the ceiling.

"What are we?"

"Right now? I can't say."

"We just told each other we liked each other. What else is there to think about?"

Chaewon playfully hits your arm. "You need to court me, genius."

"Wouldn't you just say yes immediately?"

"I probably would."

You held her hand and kissed it. "So, will you be my girlfriend?"

Chaewon smiles, and turns towards you. "Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

~FIN~

A/N: That was rough for a first fic, I didn't proof read this so I'm open to suggestions and whatnot. Twitter is the same handle as this one, you know where to find me.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i'll do it better than he can ❞

# summary; your boyfriend kind of sucks

# playlist; your guilty pleasure - henry verus, knuckles - moose blood

# word count; 1k

# note; the casual x chrismd fic is actually in the works btw

Arthur feels his eyes roll into the back of his head as Jack, the insufferable man you've begun going out with, drones on about how his tiktok supposedly blew up, "It's got almost five thousand likes, mate, 's mental."

Isaac nods, Liv and Becky stand next to you, tapping through your phone at the photos you'd taken just earlier. You stifle a giggle at how as he continues to speak, more of your friends have slipped away to the toilet, called it a night, or simply tuned him out.

He was biting his tongue because he knows what you'd say if he were to so much as murmur what he really thought about this guy, or if he were to arrogantly laugh in his face saying how he got that in ten minutes of posting something.

To prevent allowing his internal, jealous rage to peak through his usual demeanor, he gets up off his seat heading for the bar, "Uh.. shot of southern comfort, please." Harder liquor should help him get through the night.

He lets out an exasperated breath he hadn't realized was crowding his lungs following it with several deeper ones, his skin feels prickly, and he wants more than anything to go home.

Thinking of how close you once were, about the few nights you spent in his bed, the only sounds being moans and heavy breathing. How you used to come get him after pub crawls and take him home, making sure he was comfortable.

You hadn't done that for months, not because you didn't still offer but because you expressed how Jack felt about you being alone with him, so Arthur simply stopped calling when he was drunk.

Nodding at the barman as he slides the shot he ordered to him, knocking it back like it was nothing, however, the way his face twists into a grimace and the alcohol burns the entire way down makes him realize what he's done. He knows how terribly he handles his drink but he went ahead and let his intrusive thoughts win.

Quite a few things are swirling in his mind as he stares at you from across the room, shamelessly letting his eyes flick down your body to your legs in those ripped skinny jeans, he bites hard on his lip when they fall upon your ass in them. Fuck. He feels all the blood in his body rush to his face when you turn and look directly at him. And dammit now you're walking over.

Never has he really been a religious man but he's praying you wouldn't notice him eye-fucking you or the way he was now watching the way your tits bounced against the tight, cropped top you were sporting or how he practically salivated over the sway of your hips as you stalk toward him.

"What ya up to?" he picks up on your sing-song tone. Just thinking about how much better I could be for you, he wishes he had taken another shot because then maybe he'd have the courage to utter that sentence: "Was getting a shot, and now I'm getting another martini. " He states untruthfully, but the matter-of-fact edge he has to his voice has you nodding, suspicion swirling in your mind.

His gaze lingers when you notice you wrap your arms around yourself, leaning your weight onto one foot. You hate how he made your pulse quicken, and when you saw him standing alone across the room, you felt a gravitational pull in his direction.

Jack never made you feel that way; sometimes, you felt the opposite. Arthur's just different—he always has been. He never made you feel weird about your interests; hell, you shared most of them. If you ever needed anything, you knew he'd be a call away, and vice versa.

You hadn't noticed how long you stood in silence or how he was reading you like a book until he said, "What're you thinking about?" His eyes roam over your features, watching you stutter with a knowing smirk, "And don't lie to me. You're an awful liar, love."

You internally swoon as the name makes your stomach somersault, "Just that I miss you, we never hang out anymore," he scoffs glaring daggers over your shoulder, presumably at Jack who you can feel staring a hole straight through you. His chin tilts slightly, eyeing you once more before murmuring, "You and I both know why that is."

Racking your brain for a rebuttal you come up empty, any and all words dying on your tongue, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You let your relationship drive a wedge between you, despite it not always being strictly platonic, the two of you were still incredibly close for years and all that's changed in three months.

Your phone comes to life in your back pocket, the custom tone Jack chose for himself echoing through the space between you. You resist the urge to sigh, his timing is always impeccable. "I'd bet you a tenner, he's suddenly ready to leave," you murmur, Arthur observing the screen with a hint of irritation in his gaze.

"He has a knack for butting in at the most inconvenient moments," Arthur comments with a dry chuckle, clearly amused yet envious of Jack's presence in your life.

You snort, it shouldn't be true for a man you claim as your boyfriend, but it is, you swear the more time you've spent with him the more overwhelming he's become, "Just gonna tell him 'm going with Liv tonight." You know that won't happen, she told you before you rocked up tonight, that she'd be going home with her boyfriend as they had set plans for the next morning.

Never have you been supportive of those who are enough of an asshole to break up with someone over text but you definitely might have to become one of them with this guy, he won't take it well no matter how you do it. If he made you feel how the man standing just in front of you, fiddling with his fingers did, maybe you would consider things.

He mutters, "She's going with Bach, you can always stay with me," his voice conveying hints of uncertainty and yearning. You lift your gaze in an attempt to meet his eyes, which he carefully sidesteps suddenly fairly interested in his ratty airforces.

"I was promised a Harry Potter marathon the last time we filmed with Chris anyway," he adds with a smirk. You can't help the way the corners of your mouth twitch. The fact that he remembers sending a flutter through your chest, his thoughtfulness always has you giggling like a schoolgirl.

You hum in agreement as you continue typing up your response, a playful smile on your lips, "I might just take you up on that," you nod moving around him in the direction of the bathrooms, "Let me know when he's gone, yeah?" you throw over your shoulder before disappearing out of sight.

Arthur watches Jack's reaction from the bar while he orders his martini, feeling full of himself. Your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend shoves his arms into his coat sleeves and bids your friends goodbye as he stalks out of the pub his jaw clenched so tight he swears he's grinding his teeth

[honeybeefae]

The Way I Hate You (Lucien Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT: HATE FUCK

Summary// He couldn’t stand you. Not in the Spring Court, not in the Night Court, and not in the Mortal Lands either. You and he had helped Feyre escape, and for some reason, Rhysand had sent you both as emissaries to stay with Jurian and Vassa. He obviously wanted to torture him more because even looking at you made him want to jump off a cliff. His hatred for you came to an all-time high when you were alone in the manor, your nails tapping against the spine of a book while he was trying to write. Something in him snapped, and he just needed to show you how much he hated you.

(It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I truly missed it, and you guys as well! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Between the two of us, Eris might have a run for his money with my new-found liking for Lucien ;))

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, hate fuck, rough sex, slapping, fire bondage, degradation, they really hate each other, or do they?

The fire in the grand hearth was roaring as you lounged lazily in the library, legs dangling off the edge of the chair while reading the latest romance novel recommended to you by Vassa. You had lost track of time but from looking at the high moon in the sky, you knew it was quite late. Fortunately, with Jurian and Vassa away on some business, you didn’t have to worry about disturbing them.

However, the one-eyed redhead sitting across from you at the oak desk, flicking through papers at breakneck speed, was another story. Lucien had been a thorn in your side since you had met him. The two of you were constantly at each other’s throats, throwing snide comments and glares at each other whenever possible, so it mattered little to you if you were being too distracting.

You dared to spare a glance at him, the flames from the fire causing light to dance across his golden skin and capture your attention for a moment too long. He looked up and grimaced, his stare full of contempt.

“I know I’m the most handsome man you’ve had the privilege of seeing, but if you could stop ogling me and let me work, I would appreciate it.” Lucien snarked, ignoring how his body reacted to the immediate flush of your cheeks. 

“You most definitely are the most egotistical man I’ve ever met, but fortunately for every other woman on this earth and me, we could find someone much easier on the eyes just by walking down the street.” You clipped back quickly with a sarcastic smile, turning back to focus on your book. His gaze was burning into the side of your head, but you refused to rise to his challenge anymore.

Lucien huffed out an angry breath and went back to his paperwork. The tension in the room was thickening with every tick of the clock behind him, it was as if he could feel it in his bones. You were the very bane of his existence, he hated how much you got under his skin, but what truly drove him wild was how with every passing day, his desire for you grew and grew.

He tried to blame it on the loneliness, the stress from the events going on in the world, anything other than the fact that he could actually be attracted to you, but it was getting harder to deny.

It was making him slowly lose his sanity. Lucien had had plenty of other lovers before, but for whatever reason, you were the one who was causing him the most grief. He wouldn’t compare it to what he had with Jesminda, nothing would ever come around like that for him again nor did he want it to. But there was something there that created an itch that he couldn’t get rid of.

And on the other side of the coin, you were no better. At the beginning of your “relationship,” it was easy to nitpick everything he did. The way his voice sounded, his mean comments whenever you spoke or even looked in his direction, and even the way he walked. It was almost too easy how much you hated him, you could have written entire novels about it. 

But that loathing turned into something deeper and scarier over time. Where you used to sneer at him at dinner you now found yourself admiring how he licked his lips after tasting a new wine, or how large his hands were compared to the silverware. It had your mind and heart scrambling for dominance as you suddenly tried to get close enough to smell his scent or make a sarcastic remark just so he would look at you. 

Whatever had shifted between the two of you was growing every day and you were powerless to stop it. Even Jurian and Vassa had noticed it, both of them making bets on who would strike first though you had no idea. 

However, as the clock continued to tick and you began to innocently tap your nails on the spine of your book, the tension grew to a crescendo. Lucien’s fingers gripped the pen tighter and tighter, his jaw clenching in a mixture of rage and lust before he finally slammed the pen down and sent his papers scattering across the floor below.

“Can you please either stop that incessant tapping or simply leave me the hell alone?” He exploded, rising from his chair with his hands planted firmly on the edges of the desk. You jumped in surprise, confusion flashing across your face before swiftly being replaced with anger. 

“What the fuck is your problem? I’m not doing anything to you, Lucien. Why don’t you leave me the hell alone?” You retorted, tossing your book beside you in preparation for a fight. “I don’t know what’s up your ass but maybe you should go and-”

Before you could finish what was sure to be a very explicit suggestion, he was in front of you in two strides. That russet-colored eye was smoldering as he gripped a fistful of your hair and yanked, hard. You cried out in surprise and tried to shove him off but he was quick to all but ram you into the nearest bookshelf, pinning you between that and his body. 

“You, you are my problem Y/N,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, his lips mere inches from yours. “The way you walk, the way you talk, how every single time I look at you I can’t decide if I want to choke you or fuck you. It’s you.”

Your mind was trying to wrap around everything he just confessed to while your body screamed for more, your gaze flickering between his mouth and his eyes. Was this really happening? Had you fallen asleep while reading or did this man, the man who you equal parts hated and wanted, just admit to feeling just as you did?

His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, waiting for you to flee. However you knew this was a one-time opportunity, that you both just needed to get this out of your systems, and the last thing you were planning on doing was refusing him.

“Why not both?” You breathed out, looking him dead on with a raised brow. “Or does your lackluster performance of emissary duties carry over to the bedroom as well?”

Lucien may have had you pinned but you were the one with the upper hand, his arousal evident as it pressed into your hip. You weren’t going down without a fight and he was going to give you a full-out war.

“Who said anything about a bedroom?” He smirked before flipping you around so that your front was now pressing painfully against the aged books. “Whores like you would be lucky to get a floor.”

Two hands came up the back of your lounging dress and, with less strength than it took to lift a chair, ripped it clear down the middle until it fell to the floor and pooled around your bare feet. You had a flimsy bra and panty set underneath but Lucien got rid of those just as easily, leaving you bare before him.

“So take what you’re given like the good whore I know you are.” He growled into your ear as he grabbed a fistful of your ass, squeezing roughly as he slid down to gather your slickness on the tips of his fingers.  

Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, knowing you were absolutely soaked, while his taunting laugh sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t have the gentle touch of a lover. He knew what he wanted, what you needed, and he took your body like his name was carved into it.

“Ah, fuck!” You hissed when two fingers slammed into you, the hand that had held your hair now coming to roughly turn your face to the side so he could see how he made you feel. 

Lucien curled them and dragged them back out slowly, his eyes closing briefly to memorize every crevice of your walls before he set a fast pace that had you crying out. 

“I’ve barely even started and you are about to cum around my fingers. You really are a desperate thing, aren’t you?” He teased, bending down so that his lips were at the shell of your ear. You glared at him from the side, your breasts aching as he bit down on your lobe. “And here I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

Using his cockiness to your advantage, you had successfully snuck your foot behind his foot and just as he withdrew his fingers for another thrust, you took him off balance and switched your positions. 

“And here I thought foxes were supposed to be smart.” You cooed while cupping him through his pants, licking your lips at the sheer girth and length you could feel. He moaned as you squeezed him tightly, your fingers making quick work of his ties that held him up. 

“At least you’ve got something to work with, little Lucien.” You smiled while watching his pants fall, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was the same color as his skin, with a rosy tip that had already begun to dribble seed, and one of the bigger ones you had seen. He also had a slight happy trail leading down to it, the hair as red as the ones on his head. 

His head fell back against the books as you stroked him slowly, licking the hollow of his throat as he tried and failed to come up with a response. Seeing him melt under your hands was like injecting drugs into your veins and you were quickly forgetting you were supposed to hate the man.

You bit down on his neck at the same time as you tighten your grip around the head of his dick, smearing the cum that had collected there across it, and almost buckled from his needy whisper. 

“Y/N…” He swallowed thickly, grabbing your chin and forcing you to meet his eye. Both of your cheeks were flushed, the room smelt like sex and embers, and you knew this game wasn’t going to last much longer. “If you want to back out, do it now.”

“I-” You started but he shook his head, pushing off the shelf as you took a few steps back. Lucien threw his shirt off and onto the couch, never breaking eye contact as he started to stalk toward you.

A primal thrill made your stomach flip as you continued to back up, the heat from the hearth wrapping around your legs like a snake. It felt like your entire lower half was on fire and when you spared a glance down you realized it wasn’t the hearth…it was actual bands of fire.

Your head shot back up only to find him right in front of you, your back bumping against the desk. “I’m only going to say this once so I need you to listen.” He ordered, his hands gripping your waist so tight that you knew you would bruise. “We do this once and get this out of our system. I’m not going to be gentle, I’m not going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you as you deserve.”

You could feel yourself grow even wetter from his words, your nipples brushing against his chest as you took in a deep breath. 

“This is the only warning I will give you. Take it or leave it.” Lucien growled, the pads of his fingers drumming impatiently against your skin. 

The tendrils of fire tightened around your thighs as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately wanting to know what they would feel like wrapped around your neck. 

You needed to know, hating him be damned.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” You whispered, voice hoarse. Lucien’s nostrils flared at your words, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Don’t disappoint me like the other women you’ve bedded.”

Without any warning he forcefully turned you over and bent you across the desk, the oak groaning from the weight of the two of you as he wrapped a fistful of your hair into his hand. He jerked it sharply, your neck craning backward, and lined himself up with your hole.

“I hate you.” He snarled before thrusting into you in one motion, the two of you letting out moans loud enough to shake the entire house. His cock had your cunt stretching to impossible limits, the burn only adding to your pleasure as he set into a savage pace.

Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, the ink jar spilling across the floor as you grabbed the other edge of the desk. It was biting into your abdomen from the ninety-degree angle but you didn’t complain, your breaths coming out in pants as he grabbed another fistful of your ass before slapping it as hard as he could. 

“Such a fucking, ah-” Lucien groaned, throwing his head back in utter bliss as you sucked him back in greedily. “Whore. Look at how this greedy pussy swallows me, like it was made for it.” 

“I can’t, fuck, please!” You gasped as he hit the spongy spot inside of you, your vision turning white for a brief moment. “Mother above…”

A dark chuckle came from behind you as he zeroed in on that spot, his balls aching from the need to spill his seed inside of you. He could tell you were getting close from how your walls fluttered around him, but he’d be damned if he came first.

“Is the poor little emissary already close?” He taunted, letting go of your hair in favor of shoving your face into the desk sideways. You struggled against his grip, hating how you were losing the upper hand but also loving how he was making your body feel. “Are you gonna cum all over my cock, Y/N? For a man you despise?”

“Fuck you.” You grunted despite your legs spreading wider for him, letting him go deeper. He noticed, of course, and the smirk on his face grew. “I hate you.”

“That’s not what your cunt is saying, pet,” Lucien said as he looked back down at your union, snaking one of his hands underneath your body so he could play with your clit. “It’s practically begging for me.”

You didn’t respond, couldn’t really, because as soon as you opened your mouth he pinched your clit as hard as he could. The mixture of pain and pleasure made a guttural scream rip from your chest, oddly sounding like his name, as an orgasm wrenched throughout your body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chanted as you rose to your tiptoes, your juices coating his cock as well as the floor as wave after wave of rapture flowed from your head to your toe.

Lucien grabbed your waist harshly and made sure to fuck you as hard as he could, the desk scraping across the floor as he followed close behind you. The fire wrapped around your legs grew so hot that you winced, feeling it burn into your skin, but you could care less.

“Take it, little whore.” He roared while spilling inside you, his hair sticking to the sides of his face from the sweat that coated his body. “Oh, Y/N, fuck…”

Even his cum felt like liquid fire, warming you up from the inside out as you came down from the best orgasm you had ever had. Lucien’s heavy breathing slowly came down as you started to wiggle away from the overstimulation, his hand shaking as he slowly pulled out of you.

And although he would never tell you this, he burned the image of your cunt dripping his cum into the back of his mind. It took every ounce of his control not to collect it on his fingers and shove it in your throat. 

You gingerly raised up on your arms, your entire body sore, before turning around to face him directly. Both of you look like you just had the fuck of your lives. Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and your bodies almost glowing from sweat. 

The room was now silent save for the clock that was still ticking. He shamelessly looked you up and down, admiring his handy work, while you did the same. After a few moments, you cleared your throat to get him to look back up at you.

“I suppose that wasn’t the worst time I’ve had in my life.” You mused, looking down at your legs that now had red, raised swirls around them. “Though your form needs some work.”

“I would thank you but like always, I did most of the work.” Lucien grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and standing tall. “It was good enough for a one-time fuck.”

A small laugh bubbled from your chest as you shook your head and walked past him to gather your tattered clothes, hips swaying in temptation. His eye followed like you were his favorite dinner, watching as you began to make your way towards the door. 

When you reached the door handle you stopped and turned to look at him over your shoulder, throwing him a very sultry stare as you said, “Imagine what we could improve with two, fox boy.” 

He inhaled sharply, his dick jumping to attention as he imagined all the different ways he would claim you, as you gave him a wink and left him to his own devices. Lucien ran a hand over his face at the situation as a whole, glancing at the scattered papers, spilled ink, and general mess left behind by you.

He hated you, hated everything about you, and if tonight was any indication…he needed to hate fuck you every day to make sure you knew it. 

And you felt the same way. 

[ozimagines]

It’s four in the morning help💀

I was inspired by @wawamouse yet again by saying he wanted to write a fic where Miguel was just openly attracted to Chico. Like, plain and simple. Two bros. Chillin in a hottub. You get the gist. I’m here for it and a little high so…

Miguel Alvarez and Chico Guerra in…

Crime and Punishment

Fuck him. Sometimes Miguel forgot how much of a dick Chico could be. They’d been dating for a few years now. Mostly in private at first but they learned to roll with the punches. They just worked too well together to quit, even though they argued like an old married couple. Chico was in the bathroom now. Had been for the last half hour.

The blow up had been at dinner. An argument they had at least a dozen times but today was a monsoon. Every argument just came up all at once, until they were screaming at each other from across the table. Chico walked away first. He always did. And Miguel hated that he took that opportunity away from him every time. Made him angrier than the actual argument. He was seething on the couch as he waited on the bathroom. A one bedroom sounded like a great idea in the beginning; he and Guerra fucked like bunnies. But now? With Guerra hogging the only toilet in the house?

“You redecorating or some shit?” Miguel called heatedly. He heard a crash and some swearing but no screaming so he just rolled his eyes.

“Shaving. That okay with you, Princess?” Chico called back, like a taunting child. Miguel rolled his eyes yet again.

“I’d like to take a shit sometime this century.”

“Yeah? Maybe that lump of coal up your ass is finally a diamond.”

“Fuck off.”

Silence. He heard Chico fumbling with his shaving kit. He never used an electric razor on his face. Didn’t trust them. Shaved the way his brother taught him how. Miguel softened a little at the thought. He liked watching Chico shave and clean up his goatee. The man took so much pride in it. Plus it’s hot to watch your boyfriend shave. Miguel was man enough to admit that. But that’s why Chico was shaving now. He was purposely stopping Miguel from watching him. Alvarez understood how crazy that sounded, but he knew his insane boyfriend better than anyone. This is exactly the petty shit he pulls when he’s butthurt. Miguel found himself getting angry again at the thought. He knew Chico needed MUCH concentration when he shaved, so he decided to put down his book and walk to the bathroom door.

“Five. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.”

“You’re counting now? What’re you? My mom?” Guerra called through the door with a grimace.

“Baby shark doo doo doo doo doo doo!”

“Oh, real fucking mature, Miguel.”

Miguel grinned like the bitch he was and kept going. He could hear Guerra muttering Spanish obscenities through the door.

“To sit in solemn silence on a dull dark dock in a pestilential prison with a life long lock-“

“Miguel, I’m warning you.”

Miguel just started to bang different tunes on the door to throw him off. He hated the tongue-twisters Miguel learned at the theater.

“-awaiting the sensation of a short sharp shock-“

“I’ll fucking leave you for this, you colossal bitch.”

“-from a cheap and chippy chopper on a big black block!”

“FUCK!” Chico reacted in pain and then there was silence. Miguel listened, the smile slowly disappearing from his face when the silence persisted.

“Chico? Yo, you okay?”

More silence. Miguel started to worry.

“Hey, Chico. Just… tap on the door if you’re okay.”

More silence. No Spanish obscenities. Miguel’s heart dropped.

“Carmen, I’m gonna break the door-“

The door swung open quick and a furious Guerra was standing there in only his boxers, a little blood dripping from his clean shaven face. It was just a nick. Chico went toe to toe with him, eyes flashing in their fury.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, cabron. That shit hurts.”

Miguel didn’t say a word, just stared at Chico, who didn’t notice his boyfriend wasn’t responding and kept berating him.

“The fuck is up with you? First you need to take a shit that’s more important than me keeping the skin on my face and now you got nothing to say?” He stormed past Miguel and went to the kitchen to pour some Tequila. Miguel followed. Chico noticed. “What? Now you gotta take a shit in the kitchen, too?”

Miguel just stared at Chico as if he was looking at him for the first time. Chico, ever the empath, just then noticed Miguel hasn’t said anything, just staring at him wide eyed. He touches his face to see if the nick was more serious than he thought, but the blood was already gone. He searched behind him for the answer.

“What?”

“You shaved.”

“Told you I was.” He retorted, back to pouring his tequila. Miguel swallows thickly.

“I thought you meant you were trimming up the goatee.” Miguel clarified, still wide eyed. Chico shifted.

“Thought I’d try something new.” He took a shot of tequila and went to pour another. There weren’t any damn limes left in the house. Two Latinos. No limes. He shook his head at the travesty and looked up to see Miguel still staring. He suddenly got very self conscious.

“You don’t like it?” He asked quietly, eyes downward at first but then looking over Miguel.

“No… I mean yes… wait what was the question?” Miguel stammered out, eyes as big as the moon. Chico furrowed his brow, before a lightbulb lit in his head. He suddenly recognized that look. The glassy eyes. The moist lips. The starstruck attitude.

“Wait… wait you like it.” He narrated out loud, sly smirk starting to form as he pounds his last shot.

“Well… I mean….” Miguel’s speech patterns were giving him away. Chico knew this well. He’d seen Miguel horny but never like this.

“No, I know that look. You like it. More than that. You like like it.” He started chuckling to himself, mind already reeling at how he could use this, the argument from hours prior already forgotten.

Miguel tried to say something but he couldn’t. He really couldn’t. He was always attracted to Guerra, but clean shaven Guerra? Man never stood a chance.

His boyfriend was looking FIT. He’d always been muscular, but damn, did he look different there, hair a mess, only in his fucking blue boxers, clean shaven face grinning at him dickishly. And those eyes. He’d made his fair share of comments to Guerra regarding his eyes, but Miguel forgot how devastatingly deep and intense they were. Especially in the throes of passion. Chico took a cocksure step towards him, almost as if he were ‘showing off the goods’ as he once phrased it.

“Miguelito likes his handsome boyfriend.” He flexes dorkily, and Miguel starts to blush and deny, waving his hand in front of him dismissively.

“Man, shut up.” But his retorts were lacking. He was just too attracted to Guerra at the moment. The caramel skin and clean jaw. The long masculine fingers and hip bones sticking out. Chico kept sauntering over to him, teasing the air around him.

“Awww… Miguelito’s embarrassed. Don’t be, baby, I know I’m that gorgeous.”

Miguel felt his ears burning as he looked anywhere but in Guerra’s direction as he brushed past the man and straight to the tequila. He poured himself a shot and took it, mentally making a note to get limes tomorrow. He felt a hot breath on his neck, and Guerra’s arms sneaking around his waist. He started to pour another shot, when he heard Chico behind him. Only, Chico’s voice wasn’t playful anymore. It was deep and gravely as he tried to whisper into Miguel’s ear, licking the lobe lovingly before doing so.

“Just tell me you didn’t have the urge to call me Daddy just then and I’ll leave you alone.”

He husked one more hot breath and nipped at the lobe as he pulled away, the bite carrying a shiver down Miguel’s spine.

All he had to do was tell Chico no. Just one no, and he might get some peace and quiet for the first time that night. All he had to do was say no. Shake his head no. Punch Chico in the throat and then leave him. Anything, except what he actually did.

He moaned.

He heard a deep chuckle behind him, and Chico said;

“That’s what I thought, Miguelito.”

He kissed the side of Miguel’s head, before picking him up and throwing him onto the counter, pulling Miguel’s head forward to trap him in a kiss, spreading his legs so that either one was on their respective side of his hips. He forced his tongue deep into Miguel’s mouth, and the man made an animalistic sound Guerra had never heard from him. The glasses clattered to the floor, and as Alvarez instinctively looked to inspect the damage, Chico took the opportunity to bite his neck, making Miguel yell in pain and pleasure. Something about his freshly shaved face gliding on Miguel’s skin was too much to bear. They broke apart, panting and sweating, staring at the other and undressing them with their eyes. But neither one moved. There was a still silence for a second, before Guerra said;

“Say it.”

“Say what?” Miguel asked, confused. Chico smirked and raised his eyebrows.

“Say it.” He repeated, that same shit eating smile on his face. Miguel suddenly understood.

“I’m not saying it.”

“Miguel-“

“With your ego? Even this reaction was too much.”

Chico put both hands on either thigh, squeezing to get his attention, and moving his head so Miguel was forced to meet his gaze, smiling the whole way.

“Just say it, man, and I promise the night of your life.”

Miguel thought for a moment and sighed.

“Can I whisper it?” He said with a head shake, understanding that he was forgoing his dignity for the night. Chico nodded happily, and Chico guided him by a hand on the back of his neck, bringing Chico’s ear up to his lips. After kissing it for a second, he tries to muster the words Guerra wanted to hear.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

Chico growled loudly and helped Miguel off the counter, spanking his ass loudly as Alvarez made his way to the bedroom.

“Fuck you.”

Guerra responded with a loud laugh, and another smack on Miguel’s rear, letting the door slam behind him.

“Careful, Miguelito. Daddy’s home.”

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[dear-ex-person]

Dear ex-best friend,

Do you remember how we met? It was a bus in 8th grade, and we sorta knew each other but not really, and you were showing me pictures on your phone and there was an aroace flag in there and I went, “Me too!”

And from then on we were close! You introduced me to fandoms, and we texted so so much, and I think you smiled and laughed so much (but what if I’m making that up?). I practically had a crush on you! It was something I’ve only felt for a few people, and it was so strong, this queerplatonic or alterous or whatever attraction . There was a time in 9th grade when one of our friends saw us laughing over some fandom thing and told me we had incredible chemistry, and I just giggled and informed that other friends that we were both aroace.

So yeah, we were close. I loved you more than I loved anyone, probably. You laughed so much. We talked every day, we made silly joking threats, it was fun.

What happened?

We’re still friends, but I don’t know how much either of us want to be. I don’t know what changed! What happened, what happened?

You never smile around me, you don’t laugh, you take all my jokes like they’re serious statements in this way you never did before. I’m trying, I swear, I’m trying so hard, but you never seem happy with what I’m saying! I try to be funnier than usual, even, but you don’t laugh. You laugh with everyone else! You share fandom things with everyone else! But when I start reading a whole four volume translation of an ancient book because it relates to your main fandom that I like too, you seem annoyed. Do you think I’m trying to one-up you? To take over your thing? Or do you just… hate me, for some reason I can’t imagine?

Last year we sat next to each other in class and elbowed each other until one of us gave up, and we laughed about it. This year I tap you on the head and you ask me to stop, please don’t do that again, you’re not mad I just should know. And that’s ok, but what changed? Is everything ok? Did I do something wrong?

I hate hate hate how I fucking feel around you. I just want to know what I did wrong! I have to have, right? Did I say something wrong? Is there some belief of mine that you hate, but you’re too polite to say it? Is it something about me as a person? Did I fuck up and say something insensitive on accident one too many times?

I miss being able to make you laugh. Now I could say anything and you’d just stare, or act like I said something FUCKING WRONG, something strange and horrible, WHAT DID I DO WRONG? I can’t TALK TO YOU! I can’t bring this up to anyone, because we’re all one friend group and you laugh with all of them.

There’s one thing you did that makes me want to break ties, even though we can’t because one big friend group. One of my other friends from another group, someone I love so so so so much, said one tiny insensitive thing in a class the two of you have, and you brought it up. And I know it was a topic extremely personal to you, but when I left the conversation and came back ten minutes later YOU WERE STILL FUCKING TRASH TALKING THEM! For one thing, for one insensitive but fair comment, you acted like they were the world’s largest piece of shit. You said “I think people shouldn’t voice their negative opinions of others” and then talked shit about someone I love and trust for way longer than made sense. Is that why you seem to hate me? Because I’m friends with them?

They’re a better friend than you.

There are times when you don’t seem to hate me, or be annoyed or bored with me, or whatever. Times when you spill your issues, and I pick at leaves and listen and you say you’re so glad we’re friends now and I say I am too and it sounds so toxic when I type it out but it doesn’t feel that way in those moments! I don’t think you’re doing any of this intentionally, I’m just hurt for no reason or something.

I wish we could have back what we had. I miss texting with you. I miss seeing your face light up. I miss loving you.

.

[freddy-ryland]

“Remember you’re the one who can fill the world with sunshine.”— Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

Mom was staring her down, examining her backpack and rolled-up overalls, picking at the flyaways not quite pressed down, pursing her lips over the scuffed Converse.

"We can buy you better clothes than these Freddy," the short form of 'we are a powerful House you don't need to dress like a gardener'.

"I'm just going to Diagon Alley, it can get so dusty in the summer." the short form of 'I'm going to meet Q then we're tramping to Li's then finding wherever T is and going for drinks and I don't want to spill liquor on my nice dresses'.

"I'm not so sure Diagon Alley is such a good place to run off too...alone." short form from 'wait for your brother to babysit you, he's off work, he can protect you from your little friends and your little plans and your little adventures'.

"I won't be alone! We're just going to the bookshop!" the long form for 'fuck off'.

"We can buy books from the catalog." short form for 'don't leave this house. we can keep you safe here. there is no reason to leave for no reason nor without protection or to meet your ridiculous friends and we are rich enough to build you a library - just stay home, stay where you're safe.'

"I'm leaving." 'I'm trapped'.

Freddy marched out the door, her puffy spacebuns stirring in the breeze, onto the broad porch and into the front garden. Their house was the largest on the wizarding block, enough home for two families, enough space that a bedridden girl could find solace and peace and solitude. But Freddy couldn't help but feel that a few thousand square feet of various four corners was stifling.

"Patronus me when you get there!" the long form of 'I'll call the Calvery if it pleases me'.

Her parents couldn't do much since she was 17 now, couldn't tell her no, legally an adult, but if they called an Auror to bring her home, they'd get her home. No one could tell a member of the Shacklebolt family 'no' even if their married name was Ryland. Hell, even just the name Ryland would get the Aurors moving.

"Yes, Mom." Because she was dutiful and careful and hated to worry them more than usual. Because she woke up at night with her Mom touching her chest, ensuring she was breathing. Because she found her Dad tapping her awake from naps, so sure she was unconscious. Because Micah and Q and T and Li and everyone else had found Freddy bleeding from head trauma from a fall, curled up into stone corridors, and splayed out on busy streets when the magic decided to poison her own body and send her flying through time and memories and the future. Freddy is just a passenger in her body for a magic rooting and rotting her from the inside out.

But she smiled and waved from the sidewalk, the street built for wizards, apparition points set up in front of homes and in public spaces. A necessity of bygone War days, now the public knew who was coming, had wards set against random entry points, and the Rylands were stringent about watching the comings and goings.

"Just be careful!"

Freddy pointed at herself, "Who me? I'm always careful!" Carefully plotting the days until Graduation, plotting the days until she could escape, find a curse-breaking program willing to take on a girl with counted days and worse chances of survival past 25. Somewhere that wouldn't sneer at the wasted spot could give her all the adventure her fragile body could handle and let her chart her own course. Freddy's life was a map to a swift end, but that didn't mean she couldn't attempt to enjoy every second she breathed - living in fear meant not living at all. Living within the four walls and four corners and four streets and the four sets of eyes following her every move and watching her very steps making sure she didn't so much step on a crack - it was suffocating, and as Freddy spun in place, she couldn't help but feel a choked up relief at seeing her Mom's face fading away, warping and disappearing into the void of her house.

Landing just outside of Knockturn Alley, Freddy let out a huff of air, her magic rocking her body with a deluge of images - monsters and criminals, grimy shadow children stalking the alleys with white teethed smiles, cackles of war and shrieks of laughter. A life lived, and living and living long after Freddy died. Her moments here were short, her rattled lungs sucking in an expanse of air as she stepped from the apparition point.

There, across the way, leaning against the wall, sharing a bottle of butterbeer, they waited. Freddy took in the scent of piss, magic, and cigarette smoke and bounded forward, clenching the straps of her backpack every two seconds getting a bombardment of visions until she was wrapped up in cosmos and ink, nestling her nose into her Beloved's hair and letting the weight of Falmouth fall from her shoulders. Q already chattering away, and the sound fell like rainfall on Freddy's ears, calming and kind in the wall all summer showers were, and they parted, pinkies locked together.

"Hey Nightmare," Linden greeted, Freddy offered them a shoulder bump before whipping out her wand.

"I learned a really fun hex this week!"

A shine of sun bounced off a grimy window as the trio set off, Freddy bouncing along, shifting between past-present-future, her head spiking with pain.

But life moves quickly, and Freddy's would move quicker than the ones at her side. It was her right to experience the sunshine, so she wiped away a bit of blood dripping from her ear and continued forward.

[unabashedrebel]

Silvermoons Finest

Emerald eyes scanned over the woman that sat across from him. He knew what desperation looked like, and the woman had it in spades. A tired sigh pushed passed his lips as he once again had to break a heart to give himself some peace.

“Look- what exactly do you want me to do? I’m retired these days. Honestly, between you and me? I don’t even know if I could get into my leathers,” the desire to crack a joke was strong, but he knew better.

Every ounce of her being was stopping her from crying. It hadn’t been the first, second, or third bid for help that had fallen on deaf ears and the dam had finally broken. The middle aged Sin’dorei began to quietly weep as her head hung down defeated.

“Even if I wanted to… you said the authorities already looked into this. I hate to say it but kids go running off all the time.” A stray glance was given to the photo of his own daughter that sat snuggly at the corner of his desk.

A gasp was quickly sucked in by the grieving mother, “That’s exactly what they told me at the Farstrider offices. He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t just leave,” sniffling she added, “Its been just the two of us since the Scourge. He wouldn’t just leave without telling me,” the reaffirment grew more hysterical with each passing word.

A handkerchief was offered from across the table, and quickly snatched away. Kirollis couldn’t help but feel for her, that pain she carried was nothing he was unaccustomed to. Yet still he couldn’t help wonder why she would come to his door, surely there were bleeding hearts far more capable then his in tracking down a missing child. “I’ll consider it but I have a question first. We don’t know each other. Why would you come to some washed up rogue you’ve never met before?”

“Cali said I could trust you,” that was all it took.

Fuck…. He thought to himself. “Write down what you know,” Kirollis said as he fidgeted with the underside of his desk. Producing a notepad and pencil he tapped it as if expecting her to do just that before he slid them over.

Two days later

The streets weren’t ever as busy as they once were, Silvermoon was a varitible ghost town these days. It only made it all the harder to find information or old contacts. Though it did certainly make it easier to track a string of disappearances that started in autumn. His investigation leading him out into the country of Quel’thalas proper. A welcome relief from being cooped up in the city.

Quel’thalas county-side was a lot of things, but hospitable wasn’t one of them. Sure, the Sin’dorei would have you think it was idyllic, eternal spring where weather conditions never dare enter and disrupt it. A sham to anyone who had been further than the Blackened Wood. Another line in the book of false equivalence the Sin’dorei had practically written, even if he couldn’t deny the marketing worked.

As he arrived at the humble, if a bit rundown, cottage on the border of Eversong and The Ghostlands Kirollis double checked the notes he had made. Forcefully he wiggled a finger into the confines of his leather breastplate that seemed all too snug on him, “Come ooooon,” he lamented before finding the strap to his constrained torso. A big breath escaped him as the corner of the hard rawhide panel gave way to some much needed relief.

“Why am I even out here?” He questioned with a healthy dose of disdain. “This kid probably got scooped up by an Amani raiding party, Lords know the rangers aren’t doing their jobs.” But as he approached the house he heard a familiar voice chastising him, “Yeah, Sori would probably kill me if she heard that,” he concluded to nobody in particular.

With his head hung low he approached the front window, pressing up his hand against the glass to blot out the sunlight as his face was soon followed to peek into the abode. “What the shit?!” the lost art of quiet yelling seemingly holding up in his advanced age. Wiping at the grime and dust that collected on the window he pressed his face up against it again. Just like he had seen the first time, it was creep show central; cobwebs as large as tarps lined the corners of what appeared as a dining hall, still setup from it’s last use. It had an every vibe that sent shivers up his spine, especially for all the things he couldn’t make out in the dimly lit home.

“Yeah, sure, just call old Kiro whenever there’s a fucking evil cult ass baba yaga snatching kids. That’s cool. Totally where I thought my reputation would bring me,” no amount of complaining brought him comfort, but still he persisted. It was the only thing keeping the thoughts of what happened to those kids at bay.

Kirollis tried the front door only to receive a knob that would not budge in one direction or the other, “Of course it is,” he groaned.

The back of the house was walled off and enclosed, solid concrete for at least eight feet. Kirollis stood, staring at the top for a few painfully long moments. Another tired sigh pushed passed his lips as he reluctantly accepted the situation. Jumping up to grip the edge of the wall, the rogue shimmied up, hooking his other leg over onto the ledge to boost himself up and over.

Another groan slipped out as he landed on the other side harder then he expected. Slowing standing to full height as his knees made sickening pops. “Don’t like that,” he grumbled as he stretched out those aging bones. “Seriously it’s like I took a little break and every injury I ever had was just waiting for it,” neglecting to realize much of his form was scar tissue at this point.

The back door creaked open as the shadowy figure of Kirollis dipped his head in to take a peak, confirming, “Yep. Just as creepy as expected.” he said of the long hallway littered with remnants of a bygone time. He even recognized the furniture styling as pre-scourge design. Though the age of such a dilapidated cottage was never in question.

Slow, silent footing left no sound in its wake as he made it through the small house and into the main area. An auburn brow perked at the peculiar scene. The long table was set for dinner, though the food had long been spoiled long enough to turn to dust. His head swiveled back and around as he looked through the whole of the room. There weren’t any signs of struggle, no broken furniture or even a plate out of place. It was simply as if these people had vanished. Nor would that have been entirely unheard of considering the state a lot of Sin’dorei left things in when the undead came.

“So what’s the rub?” He wondered out loud. “Kids disappearing, spooky house,” wandering around the main hall with an eye for detail he continued to try and work it out, “Even if kids did come here to hang out something would be fucked,” batting away a thick cobweb he smiled as his eyes set on a bookshelf. A single index finger ran over a shelf where a plume of dust was mysteriously missing. “Still got it! Alright now make my day, be a secret door,” he chanted as he pulled three books from their place- and of course, one seemed fixed in as a lever, “Yay!” He chirped as the bookcase opened like a door to reveal a dark corridor leading down under the house.

The dark and dreary corridor was nothing new, but it still never failed to invoke horror of what’s to come. Never was there a surprise birthday party at the end of these, rather some unspeakable horror that no amount of drink could make one forget. Too much time away had brought the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach back into the fold. Gripping the handle of his pistol he slowly approached the wooden door with no window. Slowly, pushing it open to reveal what horror it was this time.

A gunshot echoed in the quiet chamber as seven heads of the missing Sin’dorei children popped up from their sewing projects splayed out on the long tables they worked at. First they looked at the rogue, and then to the demon now bleeding on the floor. Their tormentor and warden gone, just like that.

“Worst summer camp ever, am I right?” His joke fell on deaf ears as the malnourished and mistreated children just stared back at him. “Right, yeah, sorry, maybe bad timing,” he amended as he worked on the first of many chains holding them tethered to the table.

“Okay kids, I want you all to go upstairs and wait for me to come back. I need to have a quick chat with your lovely boss here.” He waited until the children found their way up the corridor and back to sunlight before casting those boring green eyes as sharp as daggers down at the fallen Succubi, “Hi, I’m Kiro, and I’m going to be causing you a whole lot of pain until, and possibly after, you give me the name of who summoned you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” the succubi hissed.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

{This horrible story was sponsored by @caedun who likes to torture me by making me write things}

[sunflowersteves]

the color green || e.m.

summary || Your friendship with Eddie and Chrissy wouldn't be an issue if you weren't head over heals for the damn metalhead.

pairing || eddie munson x fem!reader

author's note || this was a fic idea by my lovely ❤️‍🔥anon and little did they know that i love some jealousy angst fics, i hope you enjoy it!!

warnings || mention of weed, angst, afab!reader, jealousy, smut [18+ only!!], choking, a little bit of somnophilia but not rlly, dom x sub dynamics, switch!eddie, switch!reader, riding, dry humping, kinda unstable reader, unprotected sex, petnames, MINORS DNI

masterlist

If your imaginative mind had its way, Eddie Munson would be six feet underground at the moment. At least, that was what your glare toward the president of Hellfire Club seemed like to everyone else. 

Although, your murderous intent wasn’t for the reason that most people associate Eddie with.

You, on the other hand, were in love with Eddie Munson. Your vendetta against the metalhead was completely different from the rest of them. 

Usually, people hate Eddie Munson because he’s a freak, an outcast, a loser, and a devil worshiper. They would immediately pin the blame on Eddie for the crazy things that go on in Hawkins, Indiana. They would seek him out to tell him about how his club is some cult that conspires against the government—or something. 

You, though, loved his crazy antics of singing and hopping around. You loved his passion for Dungeons and Dragons and watched him for hours writing a new campaign. You loved the way he hid his face in his hair when he got nervous. You loved the way he tapped his rings on any hard surface. 

You love Eddie Munson.

The main issue was that you and Eddie had a…thing. What kind of thing were you? You had no clue which was driving you up the damn wall. 

It was some unspoken thing when Eddie whispered in your ear that he needed you. It was an unspoken thing when you gave Eddie a blowjob in his beat-up van. It was an unspoken thing when you and Eddie fucked on more than one occasion.

It was the unspoken, unmentioned thing that was tearing you apart, especially since his newfound attention was dead set on Chrissy Cunningham. You watched as Chrissy’s head fell back in laughter at something Eddie had said and threw a french fry at him.

To make matters even worse, it was you that introduced them. You knew Chrissy Cunningham was one of the genuinely—rare—nice cheerleaders out in the world. After you had graduated, she and Eddie were the only ones to actually give a shit about you. So, you were the one that told Eddie to not judge a book by its cover.

And now, you were seriously regretting your actions. The thing is, you didn’t hate Chrissy. Far from it, in fact. You understand better than most people how Eddie could light up a room in a matter of seconds. Hell, she’s your friend, too. A good friend. 

Instead, you placed all of your hatred and ire onto Eddie. Was it deserved? Probably not, but your feelings were too jumbled and fused together. You couldn’t stand the thought of pure, loud rejection from the love of your life, so your mind retreated to a safe space of anger.

“Where did you go?” You scoot back into the booth, which was opposite of Eddie and Chrissy—which burned a hole through your heart, no doubt. 

“I told you I was going to the bathroom, didn’t I?” You winced at the harsh tone you sent Eddie’s way. You hadn’t meant for it to be that cruel sounding, but you’re a bit on edge. 

“Shit, I only asked.” He held his hands up in defense. “What’s got you so riled up?”

You sigh. “Sorry. I-I’m—um—gonna go. I forgot that Robin needed me for something. Enjoy your meal, guys.” You heard both of their protests as you walked away. You couldn’t dare look back or you knew you would immediately give into them.

Jesus Christ, you need to get a hold of yourself and your feelings. How long until they both corner you to ask what’s wrong?

That exact problem of what was wrong was about to send you into a downward spiral. It was like you couldn’t even look or think about the man without your heart exploding into fireworks. 

You were entirely jealous of their requited feelings—more so, jealous that Eddie was smitten for another girl that wasn’t you.

Shit, you really love Eddie Munson.

~~

Ever since that day that you left the diner, it felt like Chrissy and Eddie were inseparable. Your heart split into thousands of little pieces as you watched them hang out. More specifically, hanging out without you. 

His arm was always around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Their smiles were always bright, and their eyes looked at each other like they hung the moon. Goddamn, it was annoying and so thoroughly heartbreaking. 

So, when Eddie invited you to hang out with him at his trailer—alone—you were surprised. You two hadn’t hung out for about two months, and your heart had seriously suffered. Unbeknownst to you, though, his heart suffered too.

You walked through the door of his trailer and sat your bag down near a bookshelf. You could hear rustling from his bedroom, most likely trying to find his pre-rolled weed. You sat yourself down onto the couch, and your shoulders almost felt stiff against the worn leather.

You watched him bounce around as he walked into the room, surprised by his giddiness and excited expression. In his mind, it was super jumbled and filled with nerves at being able to hang out with you again. 

He sits down next to you with a bowl of popcorn and reaches for the remote. He puts on your favorite movie, and that’s when you finally started to relax. Maybe being around Eddie wasn’t as bad for your heart as you thought it was. Maybe there was still something for you to give him even if he can’t give it back. 

Which is exactly why you’re in this situation right now and you didn’t even know when it had happened. Scratch that. Was it even happening now? Were you dreaming?

Amongst the small discussions about life and passing snacks around, somewhere in between, Eddie had kissed you. He kissed you so feverishly and passionately that it knocked the wind out of you, and—fuck—you had missed this. 

Had it been minutes? Hours? Who even knew at this point. 

All you knew was that Eddie’s lips on your neck and his hands on your hips felt heavenly—absolutely cosmic. You were laid down on the couch, back against the cushions with Eddie’s face between your neck. 

He was on top of you, a hand moving around your body as if he was savoring every moment, while the other kept him propped up. His tongue swirled around the already irritated skin from his teeth sinking into your neck. 

You whimpered, hands gripping his hellfire t-shirt. “You like that, sweetheart?” He continued his biting, becoming more brutal by the second. “Mhm? Why don’t you tell me how much you like it, yeah?”

Before you could even answer him, there’s a knock at the door. You both freeze, his own eyes wide with something that almost looked like guilt. You don’t dare to move, too focused on the big reality check that slapped you in the face.

“Eddie? Are you there?” A sullen pit sunk into your stomach at the sound of that voice. 

Chrissy. 

Chrissy was here. At Eddie’s trailer wanting something: drugs, homework, or maybe Eddie. 

While you’re in your own head, Eddie’s looking at you with concern. He opens his mouth to ask you something, but it quickly shuts as the pounding on his door continues. 

Eddie cursed under his breath, “Sorry, let me just do this real fast—”

Before you know it, that little green devil floods through your veins. You grab Eddie and slightly shove him back onto the couch. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and you would’ve thought it was cute if the pure rage wasn’t burning through your system.

“What the f—” The words completely die on his tongue as you’re straddling his waist. You lean in close to him, one of your hands gripping his throat. He let out a surprised whimper as his shoulders tensed under your harsh gaze.

“Try to answer the door, Eddie.” Your jaw is tight, eyes filled with fury, “Try it.” You could feel him gulp beneath your hand, and then he’s biting his lip. 

It would be the biggest lie in the history of lies if he wasn’t turned on by what you just did. You had practically manhandled him onto the couch, and your hand was on his throat. Holy shit. He could feel his cock twitch ever so slightly at that look between your eyes. 

“Is she gone?”

Silence. No bounding on doors, no calls for Eddie, and no jiggling of the doorknob. Absolute silence. 

“Yeah, she is.”

You smirked, fingers squeezing his neck ever so slightly, “good.” 

He lets out a strangled moan as you start to grind onto his hips. You rolled them across his bulge that was poking out from his ripped jeans, and his head rolled back in pleasure. 

“You like that, Eddie?” You mocked. “Why don’t you tell me how much you like it, huh?”

His jaw slacked open, and if it was even possible, he got harder. “F-Fuck, I–” Your hand on his neck squeezed a little, prompting a small moan from him. 

The sound buzzed through your ears, and an almost primal instinct flooded through you. You were getting way too impatient, so you stood up—definitely earning a whine from Eddie. 

You tugged your jeans and underwear down, and Eddie started to do the same—lifting his ass off the couch and shimming them down his legs. Before you could start taking your shirt off, Eddie grabs you by the hips and plops you onto his lap.

“You are driving me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Fuck, Eddie—” You barely have any time to react before he’s crashing his lips onto yours. His hands are making dents into your hips, and his lips are sucking and biting against your own. The feel of his calloused hands on yours and the wet kisses he was giving you was absolutely addicting. It makes your mind fuzz into warmth.

You break the kiss, looking down to see his hard member pressed against your stomach. You practically drool at the sight. He was big and oh so thick. He smiles, “like what you see, baby?” 

You nod, no longer wanting to wait, and aligned his cock with your cunt. You slide down and grip his shoulder—leaving harsh indents from your fingernails. Your walls were wet and thick—another thing that he missed. “Oh fuck—shit—” 

You started to move up against his cock before coming down again. “Eddie, Oh my god—” His hand went underneath your shirt and molded your breasts around it. You moaned against his cheek, faces just inches away from one another.

“Fuckin’ mine, baby, you got that?” His eyes widened at the aspiration that whispered between your lips. “Say it, Eddie. Say that you’re mine.”

“‘M yours. I’ve always been yours.” His eyes flicker between watching his cock disappear and your euphoric expression with your mouth agape to let out a sultry moan. It was just music to his ears. 

His little confession seemed to send him over the edge because he’s helping you bounce on his cock, a harsh contrast to the man moments ago. Now he was rutting up into you and then slamming you back down onto him. 

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ yours, you got that? Put that into your pretty little head of yours. I belong to you.” He took your hand and placed it back onto his neck. You whimper as your walls clench, and it almost sends Eddie into a spiral. 

“Yeah, you’re mine, baby—” You squeeze your fingers just a little around the base of his neck and he groans—almost animalistic sounding. You mewl at his cock hitting that sweet, honeyed spot, and you’re almost gripping his neck tighter.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? You gonna stake your claim on me?” You can’t respond, your mind too focused on the tip of his cock rutting into you over and over and over. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m—”

Your body seizes as you cry out his name—the euphoric feeling flooding each and every five senses until all you can think or utter is Eddie. He’s still fucking into you—relentless with each thrust as he chases his own orgasm. 

“Where do you—”

You whine at the overstimulation, “Inside, Eddie, please—” 

The mere thought of your begging had floated into that space into his mind. Your puffy cunt is pulsating as his tick wet ropes of cum fill you up to the brim. “Shit, fuck, sweetheart—so fucking good.”

You both end up to a slow rhythm until he stops, body relaxing against the sofa. You tap his shoulder gently as you calm down, the only sounds of your chests heaving from the breath leaving your lungs. 

You can’t quite tell the look on his face, something that felt almost odd. He opened his mouth until he closed it again, his hand squeezing your hip. It was as if you would disappear if he let you go. 

“Listen… I–” You try to cut him off with your hand on his shoulder. You knew what was about to come—that loud rejection hitting the base of your stomach. But he shook his head, and that only surprised you.

“I can’t let you leave until you know how I feel.” He paused, eyes flickering towards you. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I just—I just was too afraid to admit it. And then—” He chuckles a little and then reaches over to grab your hand. “And then you got jealous of Chrissy, today, and I knew you needed to know.”

Oh. Oh, shit. “You—What?” 

He let out a breathless chuckle and started to wipe his thumb against your hip bone. He let the silence sit as you took in each of his words. He was trying to be nice, but his mind was starting to become way too loud.

And then you smiled. You smiled so wide, and it was beautiful.

“I love you too, Eddie. I love you so much. I have for so long.” He kisses you gently, smiling widely because he just can’t help it. 

“Let's finish that movie, yeah?”

~~

“So…” 

You looked up at Chrissy with furrowed eyebrows, sipping your milkshake. “So, what?”

She rolled her eyes slightly at you, “Tell me all the details about Eddie!” You choked on the cold liquid hitting your throat. 

“W-What? How—”

She gave you a look, and then a sparkling glint in her eyes had almost shined. “Why do you think I told Eddie to hang out with you that day? And why do you think I coincidentally wanted drugs from him at the same time?” She paused, dipping a french fry into ketchup. 

“You two were so miserable without each other, and it was driving me crazy, especially you, you know.” She reached over and grabbed your wrist, giving it a squeeze. “I knew about your feelings for Eddie before you could even figure it out yourself.” 

Holy fucking shit. She knew. Who was this, and what have they done with Chrissy?

Your jaw hung open and then closed; you were astonished and astounded. “I don’t know whether to say thank you and hug you or punch your devious arm right now.”

She giggled, twirling her strawberry blonde hair between her fingers. “I’ll take the first option, thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, come here, you little schemer.”

[goldenxbby]

then dream girl walks in

part 1 and part 3

εїз pairing: fezco x f!reader

εїз warnings: just like cussing, cuteness, slight angst and poorly explained murder history this time... BEWARE

εїз word count:   4155

εїз summary: the aftermath of cold cuts in the moonlight. 

εїз a/n: heyyyyy i’m back with part two. i was really surprised that anyone would like my first fic so sorry if this is like a one hit wonder sort of deal. again this fic works for both lexi or y/n pov. this is based off of what we’ve seen in epi 1&2 of season 2. i hope you enjoy!!!!!!

Waking with just the sun to keep her company, all signs of him were gone as if he had never existed. Even his green knitted sweater had been moved from the spot she placed it last night. Wait... she smiled.

Looking at her phone, its lock screen revealed the confirmation that Fez coming over was so not a dream. Fez’s message read “thank u for last night”. Swiping the technology open, she found another text sent 2 minutes after the first. She grinned looking it over again in case she was imagining it.

“Fez: call me when u wake up”

Going to rub the dried saliva off her cheek and fix her hair in the mirror, she prepared herself for the phone call. What the fuck was she doing? He wouldn’t be able to see her. Why was she being such an idiot and not calling him already? Picking up the phone, her stomach full of anxiety, she tapped his contact and hit the call button.

It rang once. Once! God, that was an ego boost or maybe he was already on his phone? Yeah, that makes way more sense. “Y/n?” she could hear the smile on his lips which caused one to grow on hers. “Hey Fez.” she replied and he chuckled “Someone likes to sleep in don’t they?”. Looking at the time, her clock read 10 am. Knowing he was just teasing, she joined in “Yeah well I didn’t have plans on sneaking out of girl's windows, so I had time to get my beauty sleep.”. Fez enjoyed how quickly they could riff off each other. It made him feel like he had known her for twenty years even though it had been just two days. “It wasn’t easy leaving your side but someone had to do it.” he replied sarcastically. 

“I see you took your sweater with you too.” Her subconscious let the last sentence slip as she couldn't take her eyes off the spot it was once placed. “Yeah, thanks for grabbing it for me. I can’t believe you remembered it by the end of the party.” Fez admitted. “Well there wasn’t much left of the party after the whole incident.” she confessed, causing Fez to apologise. “Oh shit, sorry about that wasn’t tryna ruin your night.” he said. She quickly replied, “No my night ended 10x better than it would’ve if you didn’t beat the fuck out of Nate.”. Shit, why was she bringing up Nate Jacobs? Clearly, he had his reasons to hate the kid, anybody that met Nate would have them within 5 seconds. She knew he was abusive towards Maddie and had this weird collection of dicks on his phone, so she was absolutely fine with what Fez had done. He had distracted her from her thoughts saying “I think I feel the same way.”. That made her curl up into her bed basically speechless which left a silence over the phone. But he was referring to Nate, right? Shit now she made it awkward. She should speak, say something. This moment was a reminder to herself to not let the infatuation she had for him redefine the actual words coming out of his mouth. On the other end Fezco was worried she thought he was referring to Nate but was way too fucking scared to correct the statement with a “because of you.”. So he tried to shift the conversation to a lighter note. 

“I peeped those books you like reading so much.”. Okay, so he didn't really have many conversations that didn't involve drugs so he wasn't the sharpest with choosing topics. I mean no one ever cared to listen to him if a payment amount wasn't coming out of his mouth. This was fresh territory for him.

 “Oh, you find anything you like?”. So he took his time leaving. God, she hoped she looked somewhat presentable asleep. Not like a zombie, you know? Hair a mess, mouth agape, arms over her head in like a starfish position. She wished that when he left she was in one of those cute sleeping beauty poses. It would be unrealistic for her but she hoped. Fez replied “I’m not much of a reader.”. Great it's like every other sentence that came out of her mouth was just a new form of humiliation. He continued “...but I’m surprised you're one of those astrology girls.”. 

It wasn't that she hasn't tried multiple times to look up her birth chart and find out what all the signs meant in their placements. But nobody would be able to tell that from her book collection, so she simply replied “What do you mean? I don’t have any astrology books.”. Okay, now Fez was confused. He could have sworn the words he read from her bookshelf were the same he would have to hear come out of almost every high schooler's mouth that walked through his shop. So he asked, “What about that bright yellow one that looks like Ashtray wrote all over it?”.

Looking over at her shelf she finally understood what he was talking about “Ohhh the zodiac one. That’s not about astrology Fez, it's about a serial killer.”. “Serial killer?” she could hear the surprise in his voice. It made sense, she didn't really give off into serial killer vibes but like who does? “Yeah, it's really interesting actually. It's like a compilation of this one dudes kills and how he like terrorized California in the ’60s but no one knew who he was. He'd send letters and encryptions to the newspapers at the time. It was like this huge game of cat and mouse with him and the police.”. Fez would never get over being completely transfixed by her. The way she talked to him like he was a human. No one had done that in a long time. 

“Who won?” Fez asked thoroughly interested in the things she shared with him, opening doors he never knew existed. “He did actually. It's still like unsolved but I'm pretty sure a group of internet sleuths claim it's some guy named Gary.” she answered. Fez wanted to know more so he asked “How many people did he kill.”. She knows she just told herself she wouldn't look for more meaning in the things he said but he totally seemed into what she had to say and literally no one ever did when she spoke. Even if she tried to push down the way she felt about him she couldn’t. Was she falling for him? Okay maybe if she just pushed like a little harder on her emotions they wouldn’t bubble over. Right?

“Well, 5 confirmed but could be up to like 28.” She let out, trying to not let her thoughts distract her from the conversation she was having with Fez. “Damn, Gary got around.” he laughed and she joined “Oh God, wait till I tell you about Issei Sagawa, that bitch ate a girl and got away with it!”. Yeah, she liked this better, getting to be present with him. 

“How you know about the coolest shit?” Fez questioned. She laughed and replied honestly “Lots of time alone to ask random questions I wanna know the answers to.”. Looking back she's really glad she didn't let her insecurities stop her from telling Fez the truth. Because if she didn't she'd never get to know about one of the cutest things Fez does. “I get dat, sometimes on long shifts I watch videos of snails eating just cuz it looks cool.” Fez admitted. “No way they have videos of them just eating for like free?” she would have never imagined she would have this kind of conversation with Fez. “I mean yeah I'd be worried if people paid for it.” he responded. “Yeah… who would pay to watch that..?.'' she made him laugh. God she loved hearing his laugh. It was like when you finally get out of school on a Friday. Immediately taking a breath of air and letting the sun hit your face, just beautiful. Fez interrupted her daydreaming with a “You eat yet, snail girl?”. “Snail girl? You're the one that watches the videos.” She quipped “And you're the one that would pay for them, now don't try ‘n scoot around the question just to stay on the phone wit pretty ole me.”. She was surprised he could tell she was trying to put off ending the call. She still tried to though, joking “A girl says she wouldn't care if you smelled like dog shit once and he thinks he's the bee's knees.”. Laughing at her remark Fez replied “Ima ignore the old ass shit comin out yo mouth and let you go eat.”. “Fez” she practically whined “Y/n.” he responded. Finally, she spoke up again “Fine... Talk to you later?” and he repeated her own sentence back to her lowering his voice as if he knew what it did to her. Swooned. It made her physically swoon.

With the silence now filling her ears, she collapsed on her bed. She then began swinging her legs in the air like a kid that just found out they're going to Disneyland. This would have made her feel embarrassed but the energy that Fez had injected into her by just talking made her look past it and listen to his suggestion. 

She had started this ritual, well would it count as a ritual if she's only done it twice? That must at least be the beginning of the creation of a ritual. Well, it didn't matter, doing anything with Fez felt like the start of a ritual. One that she’d want to continue for the rest of her life. The “ritual” would start at 9 pm. She would finish up her homework and pour a mixture of grenadine, orange juice and ginger ale in a cup creating one of her favourite drinks. 

Her father first taught her the recipe after her incessant begging to try one of the many drinks her mother would down throughout the day. The one her father made looked like her mother's but she later realised tasted much different. She'd put together the drink and run to her room, closing the door and carefully situating herself right before her phone would ring. On the dot at 9 pm. 

Seeing Fez's contact pop up brought a smile to her face as she quickly answered “Hey Fez.'' he'd reply “I'm not interrupting anything am I?” she'd laugh thinking if he ever actually did she'd never say as nothing she’d ever do would be better than getting the chance to talk to him, so she would answer “No, not at all.”. He’d laugh then say “Good. So how was your day?”. 

Today she felt like complaining. She's never really done it that much as she's never had someone to complain to, but Fez made her comfortable enough to just let her kind of negative words spew out of her mouth. It had started with her rant on this year's freshman that still walked on the wrong side of the hall and bumped into her even though they've had like four months to learn to walk the same as every other fucking person in the building. That then turned to her history class and how the teacher wouldn't shut up about how impossible it seemed that the Pyramids were built by hand with just the technology at the time. She told Fez how she just wanted to yell at them. How these questions are only asked about buildings made by people of colour. Oh, the Aztecs and Egyptians no way! But those cathedrals made by Europeans? Oh no, let's not question that. He couldn't see her eyes rolling so she'd tell him every time to really conjure the effect. 

When she talked about the theory she had that every teacher sat the dumbest kid next to her for every class she's ever been Fez joked anyone would sound stupid compared to her. This stopped her sour mood completely. 

She listened to him when he told her on his break he organised a list of links on his notes app of videos of different animals eating on YouTube for her. Her heart felt like it could explode and when he eagerly added that he even found one of a ferret her heart actually did explode, metaphorically of course but the point still stands. The way he cared for her, remembered her, and listened to her made her feel like she could kind of understand why Cassie was so boy obsessed. If this was how they were all like she would mourn the lost time she spent not actively seeking their attention.

What she was currently mourning though was the beginning of their phone call as that was farthest away from when their talk would have to end. If it wasn't for Fez’s care of her getting a full 8 hours of sleep every night she'd never hang up the phone. But when the time came she wasn't totally taken over with sorrow as hearing Fez wish a goodnight in her ear sent butterflies to her stomach and a smile to her face causing her to whisper it back. Allowing his words to echo in her head as she drifted off sent her into some of the best sleep she's ever felt, like drool puddling in 5 seconds. 

Running to her room, mixed drink in hand, she almost slipped on her way in letting the enthusiasm get to her, and almost flying to her phone. 8:59 switched to 9:00 and she gripped the piece of metal tighter. But then 9:01 hit and still no call. Why was he breaking their ritual before it could even begin? That was stupid he hadn't promised it to her. They never laid out the rules, never promised anything. Except making her wait by the phone. But did this really count it felt like she was the one making herself wait? So why not stop waiting? It was only 9:05 she could call him right? 

Opening her phone, a notification stopped her. One she so did not want to see. She read it over a second time fully taking it in. 

“Fez: business shit came up.” 

“Fez: srry” 

She understood. It wasn't like he had forgotten about her or chose not to call but that didn't stop the disappointment from creeping into her heart. The butterflies had turned into a big fat mole burrowing itself deeper and deeper into her stomach. It's not like he was feeling much better about the cancellation. He looked forward to talking to her. Fez felt like his whole life all he ever heard was white noise until she came along and whole fucking orchestras started playing.

Getting the call from Custer pissed him off not just because he would now have to pick up his girlfriend and house her for who knows how long, but he also had to let y/n down. He didn't think he made her day just by talking but he felt like they both really enjoyed their calls. He at least did. 

Instead of getting to hear her frustrations of East Highlands students and faculty, he had to listen to Faye complain about the motel's landlord or something being mean. He wasn't really sure. He kind of just tuned her out, not giving a shit about what she had to say. Getting home he saw the sandwich he made in preparation to talk to y/n. He loved how small aspects in his life had changed because of these little reminders of her. He wanted more of that. 

Now the sandwich was just a reminder that he wouldn't be able to talk to her. Tonight was the only time he wouldn't be working late and he'd finally get to sit on his couch comfortably imagining her with him while she explained who that cannibal motherfucker was. He'd been talking to her during his shifts which were great distractions but getting the chance to dream her into reality would have been a sought after change. God, he was gonna have to bring Faye with him. How the fuck was he supposed to call her when Faye would be scowling at him. He already had to shift away from ashtray so he wouldn't see him smile or have flushed cheeks. He was starting to absolutely hate this setup already. 

Going to work with Faye, he tried to figure out how he’ll tell y/n about the lady sitting a couple of feet away from him. Fez didn't have to do much thinking though as y/n had already created a plan to see him hours ago. 

She had been in the caf when the idea hit her. She'd just go see him. She needed to tell him what Cassie did. She had to warn him Cal Jacobs knew he was the one that almost killed Nate and if she got to see those beautiful blue eyes that wouldn't suck either. It wouldn't be hard. So she planned after school she would get her homework done, eat and pretend she was going off to bed early. But really she would be sneaking out to see Fez.

Reapplying her lipstick, she waited till it sounded like everyone was asleep then grabbed her bike and travelled towards Fez. She knew the way as she’d been there multiple times before when Cassie and Maddie wanted to get stoned. She never went in though, always staying in the car too worried she would embarrass herself. 

Blasting music on her ride over helped her gain some of the confidence she had when she first talked to Fez. Maybe she could actually do this. Parking her bike and placing her coat down she felt her anxiety start to build, but she was already here she couldn't pussy out now. Her whole life she felt like she had been ignoring her intuition but finally, with Fez, everything felt right like she was supposed to be doing this. It had already been written into her story, she just had to follow through with it. So she pulled her hands behind her back and entered the store. And how could she stop the enormous grin from spreading over her face when he called out her name. No, not just her name. Her full name. She didn't know how he got it. From Rue, probably, but like he wanted to know. The thought of her last name popped into his head and he searched for it. That made her feel like she was floating and hearing her name come out of his lips wasn't bad either. 

He had been counting the number of bud lights in front of him, trying to pass the time wishing he could get back to that night in her room when everything felt like it was at a standstill. Like the whole world but them had hit the pause button and they could just enjoy each other. Then, like he really did create her from his mind, dream girl walks in.   

Seeing her smile made his eyes change from their normal droopy half open state and open fully like she was this splash of cold water waking him up with excitement. God, she made him feel like a kid, giddy and so unsure of his next moves. Even as a kid he didn't feel this innocence. It's like he just skipped over the childhood part everyone else had. Maybe with her, he could squeeze it back into his timeline. I mean her eyes looked like home to him, somewhere he could finally rest and let his guard down. He was entranced by those spheres holding his safe home and didn’t realize at the time that the woman he wanted to call his hideaway was crumbling on the inside. 

She saw this blonde girl on his counter like an accessory claiming her name was Faye. Trying not to let herself jump to conclusions, that would absolutely crush her, she straight up asked him. “Are you guys...?”. That was straightforward enough right? She was really new to this and just trying to think on her feet. Then he answered and she felt her heart sink. “Yeah, no, she's just stayin wit me for a bit, but she's cool tho.”. She was trying, okay? Like really trying, but she's literally never done this before and can't read between the lines of a language she doesn't speak. 

He said yeah is what she remembered and she was staying with him? Was she the business? A hookup that lasted longer than one night? She had forgotten that competition was a thing like she'd have to fight to be loved. How was she supposed to win this battle? When has a man ever picked her? Come on if a pattern is recreated that many times how is she supposed to believe this time would be different? 

Oh shit, he asked her why she's here fuck well she can't be honest now. Fuck she hated how she had to think quickly now. Back when nobody acted like she existed this problem like never occurred. Drinks! She was standing by the drinks that could be her reason! So she lied “oh, I just came here to get a drink.” turning from him in case he'd be able to read the dishonesty on her. 

Her emotions had done a 180 in like 5 seconds. She felt like she had been riding waves going to see him. The wind hitting her hair felt exhilarating, but seeing Faye was like a piece of seaweed getting caught on her board, pushed off the confidence she once stood on now reaching for the air that had been knocked out of her trying to keep her head over water. Oh God, he's still talking to her. She just wants to hide under her comforter right now but she's stuck trying to act like she's really interested in whatever cans are in front of her. 

He asked if she needed help finding anything so it seemed like her acting abilities weren't total shit. She replied, “No, I'm okay.” and looked down at the fridge. “Uh dats the malt liquor.” Fez said and all she could do was let out a “Yeah, I know.”. She didn't know just so we're clear. If you asked her to describe what malt liquor was exactly she would have no words, but at this moment she was so ready to just grab something at random to get out of there. 

And somehow shit got even worse. Seeing Cal Jacobs walking towards the store reminded her how she got wrapped up in the whole Faye situation. That she hadn't told Fez that Nate's dad knew he beat him up. Maybe she wouldn't have to do it herself since the man was now inside as Fez tried to say “Sorry for not calling you-” but he was cut off by Cal asserting a  “Good evening.”. She felt like shitting herself as he walked around the store looking at her and the merchandise around them. Once he started a conversation with Fez she began to hold her breath. Like why the fuck was his hand in his pocket? 

Trying to get out of his sight feeling his laser like stare on her she hid behind the chips that Fez sat in front of. Fucking hell. She let out her breath as his hand reached for a bag 10 centimetres in front of her face. She could feel his body towering over her and just wanted the moment to end. Oh my fucking God. He did not just ask if she told Fez who he was. Great someone's for sure getting murdered in front of her tonight and she knows like nothing about fighting. How the fuck is she supposed to help Fez? Maybe her lying skills will come in handy when the cops ask her to identify the culprit? Then she'll be able to protect Fez, right? Did Faye really just ask if Cal was a cop right now? 

Okay no, she hopes if Cal fires any bullets he'll start with her cause who the fuck says stupid shit like that? She gulped at the silence hoping the whole hand in your pocket thing only happened in movies because Cals was knee deep in his as the silence between him and Fez loomed. All this tension made her want to cuss. Like scream out “What the fuck? A twenty dollar bill that's it? Jesus Christ!”. But she just held in her breath as Fez got up and followed Cal outside to watch him leave. 

Once Fez walked outside the store she loudly let out her breath looking at Fez’s back. Then she heard Faye spit out “Whys your fucking sugar daddy so fucking tense?”. Where did Fez find this girl?

[heartshapedbubble]

guys guess what i finally fucking finished for the two people that are actually interested in my dm fic (impossible) !!!!!!!

"childhood friends", a d.m. fanfic🐍// chapter 2

NOT PROOFREAD YET AGAIN I AM IN PAIN, TW/CW for physical/verbal abus3, reader's gender not specified, OC insert and it's desire's dad and he fucking sucks, fuck sulphur mélodis all my homies hate sulphur mélodis, this all feels so rushed helpme how do you write, 90% of this isn't canon so don't use this as a source </3, ironically i hate reading angst but ummm

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I pity child me.

So clueless. So young and innocent, not aware of his destiny, and the role he has to play in the adult world. An easily manipulated marionette, just waiting to be grasped and controlled by someone with power.

I wasn't fit for ordinary life. It was obvious since day one - toys were replaced by hardcover books, and the time I could have spent playing was instead fulfilled by studying and learning. None of the adults that I was surrounded by radiated that warm, protective aura of a loving parent. Not even my own father.

And still, I kept trying to find my place in the human world. I clawed through the ever-growing shadows just to make a small mold for myself to fit into the ordinary, even though I knew my pathetic attempts will be suppressed sooner or later. The vision of ideal life was like a small window on a cold, thick wall, but the sunrays seeping through it shined brighter than anything i've ever seen before.

I wanted to be loved.

Even though I knew I was never supposed to be loved.

But what fueled me the most was that night. Their teethy, innocent smile. Their childish way of speaking and all of the sweet joys of life they decided to show me. That night lingered in my head for years, to the point I idealized it way more than i should. It was nothing like i experienced before but it felt like... home. It might have been just an overly glamorized moment, but it gave me hope. Hope that one day I might escape from the empty, lonely world that surrounded me. That there's something better out there. The images of that night etched themselves into my brain, each part looping over and over again to the point I memorized them by heart. But it was all in vain - one part of myself knew that anyway.

To this day, I still wish I stopped trying immediately.

It would have hurt less.

-

The street was empty, except for the fast, loud tapping of feet.

Desire swore that he never ran this fast in his life - he could feel saliva sticking to the sides of his lips and all the various pebbles under his feet trying to kick off his balance. But it didn't matter. Even though his body seemed like he was dying, he never felt more alive. He quickly wiped off the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead with his sleeve, and hid behind a bush in front of his house to catch a breath. The ghastly villa was silent as usual, only the window of his father's office gleaming with cold, bright light.

He slowly picked himself up and got into the house as quickly and silently as possible. Still panting as he folded his coat, he sat beside the clothing rack. He slowly tapped his face as the heat lingered on his fingertips. Damn it, I'm probably red in the face, too. Now that he arrived home safely, the only thing remaining to do was to sneak into his room without alerting anyone.

Trying to sneak through the villa was no easy feat - the house was older than Desire (and probably his father, too) and every single door creaked, even with minimal movement. But there was no other way to get out of this situation without alerting his father in a more obvious way - Desire decided he's going to play the russian roulette of creaky floorboards today. Even if his father notices it, it could be brushed off since all of the butlers had already left the house by this time of the day. Slowly taking his heavy pair of shoes off, he stepped onto the first polished plank, praying to every single deity he could name off the top of his head that it doesn't creak.

The plank responded by silently wedging into the floor under his weight. Thank god. He slowly continued down the hallway, stretching out his legs with every step as if he was some long-legged stork. It was easier to trigger the creaking that way, but it was also the fastest option. Desire just wanted all of this to end, as soon as possible. His glance ended up on the staircase, right in front of him. Moving up the carpet-covered stairs was a way easier challenge, so once he reaches it, the hardest part of the job will be done. After that conclusion, he noticed his feet almost moved on their own. He was sloppier and quicker, but he just couldn't stop the rush of excitement and relief running through his brain in circles. Just a bit more, he thought, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and I'm going to be in my room, sleeping in my bed and dreaming of-

"Desire."

He froze on the spot, and the last step let out an obnoxiously loud creak. He knew that he would screw up, as usual.

"Don't make me call you over for the second time. Come to my office, and hurry up."

His heart felt like it might just break through his ribcage. There was no other choice but to accept his fate and head towards his father's office at the other end of the hallway. He slowly turned away and began walking towards it. It was nauseating, getting closer and closer to the door that seemed to get bigger and bigger with each step. The polychromed silver carvings on the top of it started looking like sharp, massive fangs, as if the door was a monster's gaping mouth ready to swallow him whole. A million thoughts echoed through his mind, none of them being uplifting and helping him calm down. As if that wasn't enough, he felt a knot starting to tie in his stomach, tugging tighter with each new thought popping up.

Finally, he reached the door, feeling his knees slowly twitching as he stood. He laid his hand on the big iron doorknob - it was ice cold, immediately numbing his fingers upon touching it. Hesitatingly, he pushed the door open, and let his eyes adjust to the dim, cold light of the room.

"What's with the slowness? Come over here. Take a seat."

Sulphur Mélodis was a man of tall, menacing stature, making even the most stern of Desire's lecturers flinch when he raised his voice. Despite his build, he was nothing but expensive, yet classy jewelry and sharp, sleek shadows in a fitted, tailored coat. His long charcoal grey hair draped around his neck in thick, gentle waves, and a lone, silver streak of hair ran down by his cheek like a coiled snake. If it wasn't for Desire's vibrant, blue eyes and round chubby face, he'd be a spitting image of his father.

"Father". Ew. That word left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth whenever he had to say it, and even saying it out loud alone felt like a suppresed cough, something he had to forcefully spit out just to get him to pay attention or notice his presence. In reality, Sulphur could be anything but a father, hell, he was more of a potential president candidate than a parent. Desire didn't even consider him a family member sometimes - he was the same like any other of his teachers, butlers and caretakers, treating him as if he was some surreal being or a porcelain doll on a display, except Sulphur was the only one of them that dared to forcefully grip his wrist and put him back to his place. The only one of them that dared to show any actual authority.

He headed towards the end of the table where his father sat, a pulled out wooden chair waiting for him. The dim light couldn't beat the dark shadows, so it only illuminated the sharp edges and corners of his face, carving it out to the point his father's head looked like a skull. Shaking, he sat on the chair and squinted - his eyes finally adapted to the dark and he managed to make out his grey eyes glaring at him. Desire swore on his life that his pupils were just pitch black tunnels that light never refracted from.

"What are you doing up so late? It's already ten o'clock. You should have already been asleep." His father said. His voice was hoarse and silent, but that could change in just about a second.

"I went out to get a cup of warm milk. I couldn't fall asleep." Desire whispered back. What a damn lie. Lying to Sulphur Mélodis was the dumbest thing anyone could do, but here he was, a five-foot-three eleven year old king of all clowns, daring to do so. It was all out of desperation, but he knew damn well that this all could backfire on him in a moment. Still, he dug himself a grave by lying already, and the only thing left to do was to keep digging and pray that the punishment won't be too bad.

"To the kitchen?" Sulphur tilted his head. "The butlers already left your usual dinner for you next to your room. Warm dinner. And this has been going on for years now. How could you forget a crucial part of your routine?"

"I mean, it... happens?"

"Just like that, I presume." He reached into the dark to grab his cane, which always somewhere by his side. He quickly spinned it in his hand, the feather-shaped iron tip pointing at Desire's leg. The tip tore apart the stitched hole in his sock with ease. Desire pressed his lips together. "For silk socks, you have to double stitch to prevent the soft material from ripping apart once again. You've been slacking off during your housekeeping class, haven't you?" One thing was sure, his father was right - Desire often didn't pay attention in classes he considered boring. How would learning how to properly wash glass surfaces help him in life anyway? Sometimes a class would be better spent with a good book on his lap. Besides that, his teacher was a bore. Luckily, even though she wore glasses, she was oblivious to whatever Desire was doing during class, as she seemingly thought reading some fashion magazines during the lecture and lazily assigning tasks would make him get to work.

A gloved finger approached his cheek, rubbing itself onto the sticky surface. "I don't remember ordering peaches for today's meals, either." He silently wiped his hand with a hankerchief.

"I took one from last week's fruit basket. I forgot I had it."

"Those were ripe, homegrown peaches. They would have started rotting by the next two days."

"Well.. maybe you forgot you ordered peaches?"

"That's the thing, Desire: I never forget."

He leaned in towards Desire, two gray, emotionless dots staring directly into his soul. "Not only did you become forgetful and carefree, you're also a horrible liar."

The cane was yet again nested in his palm as he rose up from the chair, towering over his son like a giant. "Come on now. Spit it out. What's happening, Desire? Anything you need to tell me? Everything can be fixed."

It was such an attractive offer. An urge rose up inside of him, an urge to tell him how much he hates having to spend every damn minute of the day studying, how tired he is of being shut up every time he tries to speak up for himself, and how much he despises him. How he hates him for stripping him from his childhood for his own stupid, selfish reasons. How he wants to be free of all the numerous boundaries and limits. He wanted to cry, to scream, to choke on his own tears and point his finger right into his own father's face. But what was the point? It wasn't something solved by tucking a folded stack of cash into one's front pockets and shutting them up, or whatever his father did to get people to mindlessly obey his commands.

"I went out today." He started. What Sulphur said started to seem more like a threat for him to be honest than a sincere encouragement. He was angry at himself - first he decides to lie, and after that he decides to get himself into even more trouble by telling the truth.

"What should I do with that information? On weekends you're allowed to go out for 20 minutes to get some fresh air."

"I don't think you understand. I went out. Away from the house. After dinner."

Sulphur's eye twitched.

"Where did you go?" His voice was still quiet, but Desire could sense the anger in it. He was struggling and gnawing at every word that came out of his mouth, as if he was chewing cement.

"A couple of houses away. I wasn't out for too long anyway."

"This evening you were supposed to have extra English classes. What was the lecturer doing at the time?"

"He went home. You should have seen his face when I handed him the cash and told him to get out as quietly and quickly as possible." His voice was shaky and out of breath, and his legs still trembled, but god, was it a good feeling to snap back for once. He already fucked up simply by trying to get himself out of this situation as soon as possible, so why not die today too?

"Did you go out alone?"

"No. I went with a friend. They were the person who invited me out anyway."

The vein near his father's eye was pulsing as his eyes started seeming emptier and emptier. "I see. You're starting to show some spine." He slowly strutted around his chair, like a vulture circling around a fresh corpse ready to devour it.

"Too bad you decided to show it to the wrong person."

It all went down before Desire could even think of a comeback to his words. The cane slammed the leg of the chair with immense force, making it collapse into pieces, and making him fall down along with it, too. He landed straight on his back, the rough landing pushing all of the air out of his lungs and forcing him into a coughing fit.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" He growled, "Are you even aware of all the numerous sacrifices I make every day all for your education? Of all the money, time and patience I invest into you? And this is how you repay me?". His jaw trembled after every sentence, his cane pointed at Desire like an accusatory finger. "Repay me by being a selfish, ungrateful brat?"

Desire was still coughing, tears piling up on his eyelashes. He didn't have the courage to muster a word. A wave of pain sent pulsing signals to every inch of his body, his limbs feeling like pathetic, breakable sticks as he used up all of his remaining strength to prop himself up with his hand. He felt so miserable, so vulnerable and easily crushed.

"I was never a selfish brat!" Desire's jaw shaked and his lips trembled as he struggled with each scream, full of hatred. His index finger weakly pointed back at his father's cane, twitching as if he could collapse any second. "Y-you just, I-"

Before he could cough up the last sentence, his father's silver cane flashed before his eyes, and the sharp glint permanently engraved itself into his mind.

The painful, scorching feeling suddenly hit his palm and made him cry out in agony. Through tears, he watched the blood leak out of the clean cut that spread itself from his index finger to his wrist. His fingers weren't spaired either, the blunt hit from the edge of the tip bruising them and coloring them a faint purple.

His father twisted the head of the cane once again, making the small, hidden blade in the bottom of it retract. "Don't ever dare speak to me like that again. You're a disgrace, Desire." , a muted voice scowled, every word packed with disgust.

Salty tears kept soaking Desire's face as he winced through the fresh wave of pain that weakened him for the second time tonight. "I...I ... just wanted to experience what every other child did. Or at least, what most of them did", he muttered out quietly, trying not to stumble on his own words, "I... that friend. The person I met that invited me... They were like no one I met before, yet they were so... warm. I could feel the heat lighting up my cheeks whenever I was with them, making me smile on my own. If that's so wrong, why did it feel so... right?"

Sulphur crouched right next to him and exhaled, staring right into his eyes once again. The disgusted grimace on his face seemingly disappeared, at least for a brief moment.

"It's so easy to get swayed in life. Just think, Desire. The average man made his life so simple and enjoyable, to the point he prioritized his own entertainment over more important things, like power and knowledge. Why are you letting things like that obstruct your path all out of a sudden? The path that we paved for you together, that you've been following for years now?"

"I... but what about friends?"

His father slowly exhaled once again, this time speaking more calmly.

"Friends are just another thing created by the average man. Another thing that the modern society made up in order to make people's sad, meaningless lives happier. Instead, there are partners. Co-workers. A "friend" is just a pathetic excuse of a human leech, draining you of all your riches and energy for their own benefit. A friend always expects something in return, even if they don't say so. Think about it - putting so much faith into someone, opening up to them, just for them to move away from you whenever they want and carry all your insecurities, all your flaws and secrets with them and hand them over to anyone else who might be interested. Doesn't it sound bad?"

"But..."

"What do you mean by "but"? Look around for a second, and realize the truth - they manipulated you in order for you to hate me."

Desire's mind suddenly blacked out, processing the words his father whispered to him. Was it really his own conclusion? Did the hatred burn through his childhood unnoticeably, or was it an eye opener when he met them - no, was it something secretly slipped into his mind upon speaking to them? All the confusing theories mashed together into one huge mass of nonsense. Yet, when he looked back at the piercing, black eyes glaring at him expectantly, he couldn't find that gentle warmth of actual love, not even the passing signs of its existence.

"Well..."

"Desire, while growing up, did you have everything you ever needed? Food, water, clean clothes, and all of the books your heart desired?"

"I did, but-"

"Did I ever restrict one of those things as punishment? Did I ever tell you that I hated you? Did I ever say "no" to any of your requests, unless I had a valid reason to do so, which I told you?"

"Um..."

"Make up your mind, Desire."

"...No."

"Exactly."

His sharp jawline relaxed for once as he reached for his cheek and softly caressed it. A faint, sour smile appeared on his face, too, but it was everything but sincere. It was a smile of someone who was drained of all good in the world.

"I only want the best for you, son. And you know that well", he gently spoke through his teeth, "So don't let yourself get swayed with such otherworldly, hateful ideas that tear our family apart. Okay?"

"Yes, dad."

It wasn't okay. It was everything but okay. But he didn't have the power to use up yet another ounce of energy to argue back, to spit out some sad, low-level insult to reignite the argument. While slowly picking himself up from the floor, his father cleared his throat. Without turning around, he whispered: "From tommorrow on, we'll have a... different program for your everyday routine. I'll make sure that no one ever plants such worrisome and hateful thoughts ever again, alright? You can say your goodbyes to that "friend" of yours too."

It was inevitable, but yet, the last sentence stabbed itself right into Desire's heart, like a trusty assassin's dagger mercilessly piercing its victim. "Now, go to sleep. And don't let such things play with your mind and common sense", his father said, closing the door behind him, "You have immense potential, Desire. Make both me and your mother proud. It would break her heart to see you get ruined by something so... primitive."

Throwing himself onto his bed, the blue-eyed boy felt the pain wrap around his body for one last time before falling to sleep. He was defeated and shut up once again, for the millionth time. Trying to desperately grasp for the smile that previously spun itself in his mind like a pop song vinyl, a pearly tear drenched his silk pillowcase. Would he ever see them again? He weakly gripped his bedsheets to feel warmth, to simply hold onto something - but the cold fabric could only gently soak up his sobs and whimpers. Once again, he was just a little helpless boy, whose cries could only be witnessed by his cold, dark room.

[just-call-me-angel]

Little Miss Loser

Chapter 8 - Room 12

Warnings: "there's only one bed" except there's actually two, Frank plays matchmaker, Richard is an idiot, etc

Authors Note: I've said this a billion times all ready but I was once again struggling to get this chapter out because Eli Brooks and Timothy Klitz are rotting my brain at all times. I did enjoy writing this chapter though! It just took me a bit to get it all finished! I hope you guys enjoy it though <3

Summary: Day one of the road trip comes to a close and when Reader ends up sharing a room with Dwayne and Frank at the motel, Frank takes this as the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker.

Ao3

Chapters: || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 ||

There was really only one thing you hated more than listening to Richard talk all his bullshit—complete fucking silence. It drove you absolutely insane. It wasn’t comforting in the way that Dwayne’s quiet nature was. It was debilitating—made you feel like the world was closing in around you.

And for all the noise you usually tended to make you couldn’t for the life of you bring yourself to break the silence this time. You were always so good at filling space with noise and yet in the moments where you needed it most, you found yourself choking on air.  It was sort of ironic if you thought about it.

You’d dealt with it since you were a kid—since the very first time someone told you that you were too loud—too wild—too much. God, you couldn’t even count how many times you’d wound up giving yourself a panic attack because you suddenly convinced yourself that you were taking up far too much space in the world. 

The worst part about the silence surrounding you right now was that you couldn’t escape it. You were trapped in the back seat between Olive and Dwayne. Olive—bless her soul—was fast asleep curled up against your side blissfully unaware of the absolute panic you were drowning in and Dwayne was reading his book.

It doesn’t take long— it never did—for Dwayne to notice something was wrong. 

He shifts beside you, closing his book and flipping to an empty page of his notepad, quickly writing something down before tapping your shoulder. It took you a second to react, squinting at the paper, “Too quiet?” 

At this point, you were pretty sure Dwayne could secretly read minds.

You didn’t even bother trying to deny it, giving a small nod as you lean against his side, careful not to wake Olive as you move. Dwayne moves with you, shifting to make sure you’re comfortable before he drags his little backpack up off of the floor, digging through it for a moment before he finally pulls out a beaten-up little CD player and a pair of headphones. 

He connects the headphones and sets the player in your lap, lifting the headphones up over your head, smiling fondly at you when he pulls them down over your ears. The world is silent for only a moment longer before music surrounds you with a click of a button. 

Your body relaxes instantly, as you rest your head on Dwayne’s shoulder, whispering a quiet, “Thank you.”

He nods, a little smile playing on his lips as he leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead. It doesn’t surprise you as much as one might think it would—but you knew better than most that Dwayne was actually quite affectionate when he felt comfortable with someone—still, the show of affection does make your face go a little red. He picks his book back up after a minute, flipping it to the page he’d left off on as he settles into his seat with you at his side. 

Hours later, the bus stops for the night and you have never in your life been so excited to see a shitty little motel—you’d been stuck in the car for what felt like years and as much as you loved the Hoover family, you desperately wanted to get out of the stuffy old bus you’d all been packed into. 

You weren’t even listening to a word Richard or Sheryl were saying as everyone exited the bus. 

Your legs were fucking numb and your neck ached from having fallen asleep leaning on Dwayne’s shoulder and you just really wanted to get to your room so you could escape the awkward silence that was still hanging in the air around Richard and Sheryl. You are offered a moment of respite from the bickering adults when they leave you all waiting at the bus to get the room keys. 

You stand behind Dwayne, arms curled around his waist as you press your face into the back of his shirt, mumbling complaints about how much your legs hurt. You can feel the soft inhale of him laughing under his breath as he shifts to rest his hands over your arms and you squeeze his waist a little harder, continuing to grumble to him.

“You alright kid?” Frank chuckles, standing off to your left, helping Edwin pull everyone’s luggage from the trunk. 

You huff, turning your head just enough that you can look at him as you grumble, “I’m never getting back into that bus again.” 

Edwin grunts in agreement and Frank snorts rolling his eyes as he sets your duffle bag next to you, along with Dwayne's. Olive appears at your side, tugging on your shirt and pouting, “But what about my pageant? Don’t you want to see me perform?” 

It’s honestly unfair how easily your grumbly resolve shatters at the pleading look Olive gives you—you’d let her get away with murder at this point if she gave you those big puppy dog eyes. You look down at her and frown, slowly pulling away from Dwayne—-you don’t say a word when he squeezes your arms in retaliation before finally letting you go with a heavy sigh. 

“Course I wanna see you perform Oli, I was just being dramatic is all,” you promise, earning an immediate smile from Olive, “but you might have to carry me to the bus in the morning, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it otherwise.” you tease, ruffling her hair with a laugh. 

She pouts again, scrunching up her nose as she swats your hand away, “I can’t carry you!” 

You tilt your head at her and grin, “Why not?”

Frank joins in quickly, “I thought you said you were tough Olive?”

Olive frowns, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue at you both, “I am! But I’m not big enough to do that—make Dwayne do it instead!” 

“Fair point, maybe I will have Dwayne do it.” You cackle, pulling her in for a hug as Dwayne watches you both in amusement, “You’ll carry me to the car tomorrow right Dwayne?” 

Dwayne rolls his eyes and shrugs just as his parents return with the room keys. Sheryl makes a very obvious point to ignore her husband as he walks next to her and she gestures for everyone to follow her towards the motel.

Olive lets go of you quickly, grabbing her little rolling suitcase before rushing off after her parents. You huff, dragging your feet a bit as you pick up your duffel bag and walk beside Dwayne as he smirked a bit at you, clearly a little amused by your dramatic whining.

Sheryl guides everyone along a row of doors on the second level of the motel, stopping in front of a door marked with a rusted 11 on the front, “Alright we will be in this room, grandpa you’re in room 13–” 

“Mom can I stay with grandpa!”

Sheryl looks down at Olive and shrugs, “Honey that’s up to him–”

Olive turns quickly to her grandfather and doesn’t even have to say a word before he smiles at her, “ I got two beds—plus you could still use some rehearsing.”

Olive beams, “That's what I was thinking.”

“Okay now that's settled,” Sheryl smiles, though you can see it’s a little strained from the stress of the day,” Frank you’re in 12 with Dwayne and (Y/N)” 

“Sheryl we shouldn’t be encouraging two teens to be alone together like this—”

“Richard.” Sheryl exhales turning to her husband with a sharp look, “They have had sleepovers before. It’s fine—besides Frank will be there too.” Richard opens his mouth to argue but seems to think better of it, going quiet as he looks down at his feet. 

You don’t bother to mention that your mom had specifically requested that you don’t spend so much alone time with Dwayne—you hadn’t really intended on listening anyways. 

Sheryl sighs after a moment, shaking her head as she passes the room key to Frank, “If you need anything, we’ll be in room 11” 

Frank accepts the keys, holding his sister's hand for a moment, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he smiles, “We’ll be fine Sher,” he pauses, giving Richard a cheeky grin, “And don’t worry I’ll make sure there’s no funny business with the youths.” 

You snort, instantly jumping in to join Frank in his mischief, “Don’t worry Mr.H I only dabble in funny business on Thursdays.” You pause, shrugging, “and sometimes on Sundays but that’s only if the stars are aligned in a certain way.” Dwayne snorts beside you as you beam at Richard, knowing damn well he can’t say a word without getting himself into more trouble with his wife.

Sheryl rolls her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips as she steps towards you and Dwayne, pulling both of you into a hug. Dwayne tries to pull away, grumbling a bit when he realizes it’s pointless and you lean into the hug, giggling at the futile struggle of your friend. She pulls away after a second, pressing a kiss to Dwayne’s forehead, ignoring the way her son makes a face about it. 

“Goodnight”

You beam, squeezing her hand as she pulls away from Dwayne and leans to press a kiss to your forehead as well, “Night Mrs. H” 

She hums, and you’re surprised that she doesn’t tell you to call her by her first name like she usually does but you don’t say a word about it as she pulls away to hug Olive. Frank taps your shoulder and gestures for you and Dwayne to follow him to your room. He fumbles for a second with the lock before it clicks and he shoves the door open with a rather loud creak.

You barely make it two steps into the room before tossing your duffle bag to the side and diving onto one of the beds with a squeal as you hit the springy mattress. You hear Frank laugh as he shuts the door behind him and Dwayne stands at the end of the bed just staring at you with a small smile. 

“Alright you hooligans, I want you exactly 5 feet apart at all times” 

You sit up slightly, leaning on your elbows to look at Frank with a cheeky grin. He stares back at you, arms crossed as he feigns a look of disapproval. Dwayne shakes his head and sits down at the end of the bed, making it shift a bit under you. 

Frank’s act doesn’t last long and after a minute he throws his hands in the air with a dramatic sigh, “Well I give up.” 

You giggle, “Don’t worry I’ll keep the shenanigans to a minimum.” 

“Much appreciated,” Frank snorts and tosses his bag onto the other bed, “Just don’t tell Richard or he’ll call me a loser again.” 

You lift one arm up slightly giving Frank a mock salute, “Scouts honor, he’ll never find out, right Dwayne?” You turn to your friend, beaming at him as his lips twitch slightly and he shrugs. 

Frank laughs and after a minute you roll off of the bed, standing quickly and grabbing your duffle bag off of the ground, “You mind if I change first?” Frank shakes his head and Dwayne shrugs as you thank them quietly and shuffle towards the bathroom. 

You exit the bathroom after a few minutes, having changed into a pair of pale pink pajama shorts and a baggy T-shirt with a faded graphic of Van Gogh’s sunflower painting—once again it’s a shirt you had stolen from Dwayne—he’d gotten it during a field trip to an art museum—he denied of course that he’d picked the shirt specifically because he knew it had your favorite painting printed on it.

Frank nods at you with a smile as he shuffles past you to enter the bathroom. Dwayne lays across the bed closest to the door, silently reading his book, only looking up when you toss your duffel to the floor at the end of the bed. He stares at you, brows furrowing as he squints at your shirt. 

He sets his book down across his lap and points at your shirt and then at himself and you grin.” Are you accusing me of stealing your shirt again?” he raises a brow at you and you giggle flopping down onto the bed, “because if you were, you’d be right.” 

Dwayne rolls his eyes as you settle at his side and you beam at him, “Besides I know for a fact you picked this shirt because of me anyways.” He goes a bit red at the accusation but doesn't get the chance to deny it as his uncle pokes his head out of the bathroom.

“So listen, I have a really bad habit of kicking in my sleep and I’d really hate to accidentally push Dwayne off of the bed so would you guys be fine sharing the other bed instead?”

Dwayne freezes next to you, glancing up at his uncle as the older man gives him an amused smile as if he knows something that you don’t. You hardly flinch at the suggestion, you often sleepover at Dwayne’s house, and most of the time you wound up passing out curled up next to him in bed while watching a movie together—you try to ignore the fact that you always wake up a little flustered with his arms curled around your waist, holding you against his chest 

Finally, you shrug, “I mean we already broke the 5 feet rule, what’s the harm in breaking another.”

“See that’s the spirit,” Frank chuckles, “Just remember, no funny business.” he grins—you pretend not to notice the wink he gives Dwayne as you grin back, saluting him as you had before. Frank stands there for a moment, just grinning cheekily before finally going back into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look over at Dwayne and nudge his arm, “You okay tough guy?” 

He doesn’t look at you at first, staring daggers into the back of his uncle's head through the partially open door of the bathroom. You nudge him again, this time a little harder and he turns slowly to you, face a bit flushed when you repeat your question.

He shrugs and before you can say another word you hear yelling through the wall which makes you flinch a bit. It’s muffled enough that you can only just barely hear what’s being said but you immediately recognize the distinct voices of Richard and Sheryl. 

Dwayne tilts his head a bit as if listening to a little closer to the yelling and despite your own distaste and discomfort for the drama of it all you find yourself leaning a bit closer to the wall as well in an attempt to hear better. You only catch bits of it—you couldn’t help finding a bit of joy in hearing Richard get his ass handed to him by Sheryl—occasionally you turn to Dwayne making faces when Richard says something particularly foolish. 

Frank pokes his head out of the bathroom after a moment, brows furrowed when he too hears the muffled shouting of his sister and brother-in-law in the room next door. His gaze flicks to where you sit next to Dwayne, head resting delicately on his shoulder as the two of you listen to the private arguments of Sheryl and Richard. 

He frowns, “Don’t listen to all that—Come on why don’t you watch something instead.” he leans out into the main area, swiping the remote off of the little dresser on which a small box TV rests, flicking it on to a random channel before tossing the remote onto the mattress at your feet. You jump a little when it hits your leg but don’t move to grab it, hardly glancing at the scene crackling on the screen. 

Frank smiles awkwardly and nods, holding his toothbrush up, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”  you smile back equally as awkward as he turns to enter the bathroom once more, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. 

Dwayne remains still beside you at first before rolling his eyes at you and leaning forward to grab the remote, turning the TV off again with an annoyed huff, tossing the remote to the other bed as he falls back into the bed beside you, bringing his arms up to fold behind his head.

The argument persists —“Fuck the nine steps Richard—It’s over! Forget it!---I never want to hear of the nine steps again—”

There is a beat of silence and then before you can stop yourself you snort, leaning up on your elbow to peer at Dwayne, watching the slow smile that spreads across his face, bringing a flush to his cheeks. 

You bob your head to the side, wrinkling your nose at him and giggling as you playfully smack his chest, “Oh don’t look so excited you little shit—” 

He shrugs and rolls his eyes, sighing contently as he hears his mother and step fater fall silent for a time. You don’t fault him one bit for feeling delighted by the downfall of his step father’s relationship with his mother—though it stings a bit with your parents divorce still being finalized. 

Frank leaves the bathroom and you have to tap Dwayne’s shoulder to make sure he gets up to go change as well. He grumbles at first, swatting at your hand when you poke his side as he drags himself up off the bed and shuffles to the bathroom. 

When he returns he remains in the same yellow shirt and a pair of black and grey pajama pants. He lays immediatly at  your side and huffs as he falls into the pillows and you giggle as the bed shifts a bit beneath you. Frank watches the two of you carefully and as he curls into his own bed you are struck with the feeling again that he knows something that you don’t.----it reminds you once more of Edwin’s words; “kid’s got it bad for you, we all see it.”

It doesn’t take long for Frank to fall asleep—his loud snoring is a pretty clear sign that he’s out like a light–-while you remain awake, curled up next to Dwayne, his chest facing your back. You’re tired—in fact, you’re fucking exhausted not that you’re laying in an actual bed—yet you find yourself fighting sleep.

You wondered if Dwayne was awake—silently struggling to sleep like you were—or if he was peacefully asleep blissfully unaware of the fact that you were wide awake. 

You let your mind wander, hoping it will distract you long enough that you’ll tire yourself out and finally be able to sleep. You think about the past few hours since you left your home early this morning—your father’s warm hug—your mother’s cold shoulder—Edwin being his usual troublemaking self—having ice cream with Olive—the bus breaking down—the old most kiss with Dwayne—joking with Frank and teasing Richard—Edwin’s advice—-Dwayne instantly knowing how to comfort you—it all turns over in your head on repeat, rewinding over one memory in particular.

The almost kiss—the way Dwayne’s face got all flushed—the way his eyes fell to your lips—the way held one of your hands like he was afraid of letting you go—the way he leaned in just slightly before stopping himself—

Alright–maybe letting your thoughts wander wasn’t the best option. 

You huff and Dwayne shifts a bit behind you, one arm slipping over your side, hand resting warm against your hip. You go still and whisper quietly, “Dwayne?” 

The only response you get is a low hum and the brush of his fingertips over your hip bone. You smile to yourself and slowly roll over to face him, his hand lifting for a moment until you settle back down and he rests his hand on your hip again. You blink rapidly until your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and you can see faintly see Dwane facing you with his eyes half-closed. 

“Dwayne,”

His nose scrunches up and he hums, shaking his head as he curls his hand around your back, 

pulling you a little closer and making you laugh quietly.

You lift your hand to his face, poking his cheek and whispering more insistently, “Dwayne–” 

He grumbles, swatting at your hand until it falls between the two of you as he slowly opens his eyes and glares at you. You don’t need his notepad to be able to figure out that he’s telling you to go to bed. You giggle and close your eyes, lip twitching as you try to stop smiling.

You last barely a few seconds in silence before you start giggling again and he sighs heavily, pinching your side. You exhale, “Okay—okay—” you laugh breathlessly between your words, as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to relax again. You hear him sigh—you show a little mercy by not teasing him when you catch him smiling despite his attempt to seem annoyed. 

You manage to relax a bit—you aren’t sure if you’re ready to admit that it might be because you’ve got Dwayne’s arm over your side, fingers tracing soothing circles over your lower back. 

You do it without thinking–-your hand moves to the side of Dwayne’s face, fingers combing back his hair and brushing over his round cheeks. Dwayne jolts slightly, eyes opening in an instant as he furrows his brows at you, clearly confused by your actions.

You smile feeling suddenly very shy as you cup his cheek and whisper quietly, “I’m glad I came with you on this trip.” 

Dwayne stares at you and although you can’t see it, you know he’s blushing—his cheek is warm against your palm. He looks like he wants to say something—and for a moment you almost think he’s about to break his 9-month vow—instead, he offers you a sheepish smile and a soft hum in agreement. 

It takes you a minute to stop staring at him—eyes catching on his when they wander to your lips again—all it would take is a second for you to just close the gap—-you wonder if he’d stop you if you tried. You don’t give yourself the chance to find out, instead, you pinch his cheek, grinning at him when he pouts, and you move your hand away from his face, resting it on his side—mimicking the way he gently holds your hip. 

“Night tough guy,” 

You don’t need him to speak for you to know what he’s thinking as he hums quietly—you can almost hear his voice in your head teasingly mumbling, ‘Goodnight smartass’---- you laugh, quiet and airy as you close your eyes, curling a little close to him until you’ve got your head tucked under his chin. It takes barely a few seconds for you to start drifting off, lulled to sleep by the sound of Dwayne’s heartbeat and his hand on your side, fingers still absently tracing over your hip. 

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[noteguk]

be quiet | jjk | m | drabble

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which jungkook is the best at picking the worst possible place for a quickie. 

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits, public sex (library), doing the nasty in the theology section, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mid-sex arguments, jk is a mean lil shit (nothing new), kind of dom!jk, creampie, oral (female receiving), cum eating, cum play

— words; 3.1k

— author’s note; this was requested by anon and I thought it would be a nice thing to drop before the angsty parts begin 😌 also, for time context, this happens a bit after “bad behavior”

~

You were pretty sure that Jungkook had chosen that section on purpose. Because he hated you, that’s why. 

Never once in your life had you wondered so far into the university’s library, past the known biology and chemistry shelves, and into the dusty alleyways of the humanities courses. And that was the shameful reason why you didn’t even know that there was a religious section in the first place. 

The realization was obvious if you actually stopped to think about it: there were so many classes related to theology in your university that it would be ridiculous not to have books on that. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel like the old, hardcover bible was staring at you in endless disappointment as Jungkook turned you around and threw the hem of your dress over your hips. 

“Shhhh, baby, keep it quiet,” he shushed you after a small whimper had escaped your lips, his palms spreading over your ass cheeks. “Someone’s gonna hear you.” 

Because Jungkook hated you (as previously established), he instantly contradicted himself with a loud slap against your ass. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hissed, fumbling closer to him as he tugged your underwear to the side. The cold air hit your wet folds instantly, spreading goosebumps through your skin. Jungkook was an expert at noticing the most timid, basic ways that your body reacted to his touches, so the clear asymmetry between your rough speech and the shivers running through your body was enough to make him snicker. “Keep it down. This isn’t funny.” 

Jungkook chuckled behind you, the sharp noise of his zipper opening sounding like a gunshot inside that quiet building. “No. It’s hilarious, actually.” 

You sighed, praying to all the books around you that no one would stumble across that erotic spectacle. You had no idea if there was another living soul wandering around the library so late — in fact, the place was like thirty minutes away from closing and you were positive that the librarian was already dozing off on the front counter when you arrived, so she was probably balls deep in REM sleep by that point. There was no one cramming for midterms, no night owls to interrupt the two of you and, just to top it all off, it was a fucking Friday. The library was so empty that you didn’t even know why you went to that place. 

Okay, that was a lie. You went there because Jungkook had booty called you — yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, shame and disgrace — but, in your defense, you honestly thought he was just in desperate need for some extra help with his project (which was what he had initially told you). Turns out, “extra help” in Jungkook Dictionary didn’t mean the academic one. It meant that he was pathetically hard and he wanted somewhere to stick his dick in (instead of doing it like a normal person and using his hand). 

Regardless, your position was equally embarrassing. You could’ve just walked away when you realized his true intentions, and not followed him into the theology section of the library, for fuck’s sake. You really needed to start exercising some self love and put some limits in that chaotic situationship before you got yourself in serious trouble. 

Still, all those mental promises turned into silence when you felt his fingers playing with your folds, teasing their way between them. “So fucking wet,” Jungkook’s horniness dripped from his voice like honey, so soft and deep that got your knees buckling, back arching so he could reach your heat better. “Such a needy girl. Always begging for cock.” 

“I didn’t beg for anything,” you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit; looking over your shoulder just so you could stare him down. Somewhere along your messy make-out session and the Bible-induced guilt, Jungkook had already moved his pants and underwear halfway down his thighs, his cock standing erect and proud. His timing was fantastic when he was actually interested in something. “You’re the one that can’t keep it in your pants.” 

He scoffed. “Don’t ruin the mood.” Jungkook punctuated his sentence with the plunging of two of his fingers inside your pussy, making a surprised whimper fall from your mouth — which you suppressed a second too late. “And of course I can’t, not when you’re dressed like this.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the pleasure that started to build up at the pumping of his fingers in and out of you. “My knee-level dress is neither sexy nor an open invitation, you troglodyte.” You had chosen to wear that dress because it was a deliciously warm afternoon, not because you wanted to get railed while staring at religious texts. Jungkook, however, seemed to stare at your choice of clothing like he was looking at an “all you can eat” bouffet. You groaned. “But if you’re gonna do it, can you rush? I don’t wanna get caught.” 

It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips as his digits left your heat. You knew he’d tease you endlessly if you didn’t say that, and you two were on a tight schedule. “You never do,” he mumbled. 

“Duh,” you said, watching as his hand curled around his cock, pumping it a few times. You placed your own hands on the shelves and refused to look at the books any longer. “I have a future, you know. Don’t wanna get expelled halfway through the—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted you, holding onto your hips. Jungkook aligned himself with your entrance, coating his crown with your wetness and grunting at the sensation. “Fuck. Don’t wanna talk about your stupid high marks right now.” 

Jungkook made his point clear with a swift roll of his hips, his thick length gradually entering your pussy. You bit down on your lip, closing your eyes as you marveled at the aphrodisiac sensation of his cock opening you up. “Shit,” you moaned — a whispered, breathy moan that wiped all your fierceness away. “You’re so — fuck — so annoying.” 

“I said shut up,” Jungkook hissed, his cock hitting deep inside you with a strong hit of his hips against yours. You could feel him everywhere, mercilessly pushing his way inside your tight walls and stretching them wide for him. 

Your eyes instantly fell shut, eyebrows raising as he started to set a rhythm, moving in and out of your soaked heat. The sounds of your bodies meeting was dirty and, worst of all, it was super perceptible to any one passing by — however, in typical Jungkook magic, you quickly forgot about most of your worries. “Oh my… Jungkook,” you gasped, feeling his grasp on your skin grow tighter at the uttering of his name. “Someone’s… someone’s gonna hear us.” 

But you had successfully managed to piss Jungkook off, which was a terrible sign in that specific (public) situation. “Shit, you’re always like this,” he groaned, raising the force of his thrusts. A desperate moan died on your throat at the feeling of his cock drilling in and out of you, your breath shallow. That couldn’t be good. “Can’t stop fucking talking.” 

Thinking was starting to get difficult, and speaking was even worse. “That’s not what I—”

Another whimper broke your sentence, your trail of thought long forgotten, and he used that opening to his advantage. One of Jungkook’s hands slithered from your hip to the front of your body, moving between your breasts before, at last, settling on your neck. There was no strength on his actions when he pulled you backwards, making your back press against his chest. “Why can’t you understand when I tell you to be fucking quiet, uh?” His voice was a rough growl close to your ear, filled with so much hunger that you almost lost your balance. Before you did, however, the tap of two of his fingers on your lips made your focus shift. “Do both of us a fucking favor and put your mouth to good use.” 

For the first time that night, you were obedient. Without hesitation, you parted your lips so his fingers could move inside your mouth, a deep exhale leaving his chest once you started sucking on them; muffling your whimpers. 

“That’s it, fuck,” he praised, his momentaneous anger slipping away from his grasp. You could feel Jungkook throbbing inside you every time you swirled your tongue around his digits, his length splitting you open like no one else could. “You’re so fucking tight. The only reason why I don’t stuff your mouth full of my cock right now is because this pussy is too good.” 

You clenched around him, tried to say something that sounded like gibberish with his fingers still in your mouth. Amazingly so, Jungkook understood what it was. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You could only nod, your body bouncing up and down with the force of his precise thrusts. “Yeah?” He chuckled. “You know, I should just leave you like this, see if you learn to shut up for once.” 

“Pfflease, no,” you struggled to get out. 

“No? Now you listen to what I have to say?” Jungkook kept teasing you, watching as your initial petulant attitude was washed away. Doing that to you seemed to be a habit that he couldn’t let go, no matter how hard he tried. There was something about the way you fumbled and whimpered under his grasp that inflated his ego more than anything. “You only listen when I have you like this. Don’t you think that’s funny?” 

Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your mouth, using that hand to press your body closer to his; tattooed arm wrapped in an iron grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point; you were just trying to grasp at anything that could bring you some sort of salvation. Maybe if you tried to appease his pestering spirit, he wouldn’t be so cruel when it came to your release. “Jungkook, please.” 

“Please what?” He asked, his breath ragged against your ear; sounding like he was almost getting lost in your pussy. 

“Please let me cum, please,” you begged. You didn’t know how he managed to do it: to make your entire personality crumble down into a desperate, needy mess with little to no effort. He knew just the right buttons to push; just the right way to fuck you. It was a dangerous game that you were playing and the score clearly wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’ll think about it.” He groaned, a particularly loud moan ripping itself from his throat at another hash buckle of his hips. He was fucking your so well that you couldn’t even remember where you were for a second, all inihibitions pushed aside as your mind turned into a hazed, disconnected mess. “First, be a good girl and let me fill you up.” 

You nodded desperately, not trusting yourself to say anything else. The heat in your stomach was building up at a worrisome speed, threatening to spill over at any given second, and yet you didn’t think it would happen quick enough. 

Just as you expected, Jungkook was cumming a few thrusts later, spilling himself inside your pussy as he groaned against your shoulder. “Fuck, baby,” he was fighting for air, trying to keep his moans as quiet as he could manage them. And yet, when his mouth right next to your ear, you could hear with divine clarity the beautiful, airy sighs he gifted you as he continued to fuck you through his high. “Take it, come on. Fuck.” 

You were almost pleading for your own body to hush and allow you to cum before Jungkook pulled away but, once again, you weren’t that lucky. You were left with shaky legs as he removed himself from your heat; feeling awfully empty as he swirled you around before crashing his mouth against yours in a messy kiss. 

Yes, Jungkook fucked you like no one else could, but kissing him managed to be even more heavenly sometimes. Time and time again, he would surprise you with kisses that left you seeking for air; the slow drag of his tongue against yours matching perfectly with the way his hand cupped your cheek, thumb delicately caressing the skin. It was the eye of a hurricane, the tranquil skies before the storm hit, and you could get lost in it with such ease that it scared you sometimes. 

But then he pulled away, and the magic left you just as quickly as it had arrived. “J-Jungkook, I didn’t—“ 

“Shh, baby, I know.” Another tender kiss against your lips, and his mouth moved to your jaw, nibbling on the skin. “Gonna clean you up, princess. Don’t worry.” 

Brain too overwhelmed to react, you were left speechless as Jungkook trailed a path of sloppy kisses down your neck, sending shivers down your spine before, at last, getting down on his knees before you. A question got trapped in your throat, rapidly forgotten, when he raised one of your thighs and placed it over his shoulder. “Hold this up for me.” He signed at the hem of your dress, and you did as he requested, pulling the fabric to the level of your breasts. “That’s my girl.” 

A shivering sigh danced on your tongue as you waited for him to move, his eyes eagerly taking in the way his release dripped between your folds, mingling with your own wetness. Jungkook loved to watch his work. “So pretty,” Jungkook mumbled, as he always did; sounding like he was trapped in a daydream. Like you weren’t actually supposed to hear that. “Always so pretty for me.” 

You got lost in his praise for exactly two seconds before he was leaning in and pressing his mouth against your heat. Your hips buckled forward, barely held in place by his strong arms around your thighs. “Jungkook,” you called his name, making his dark eyes snap towards yours. His tongue prodded against your opening once, twice, teasing your pussy a few times before he licked his path up your slit, lips wrapping around your clit. “God, so good.” 

Jungkook hummed against your heat, lapping between your folds like he was a starved animal, not caring about the fact that his own cum was mixed with your arousal. You were starting to consider that maybe he had a bit of an oral fixation, because you never saw him so focused as when he had his face buried between your thighs; his tongue playing with your sensitive spots so eagerly that you couldn’t help but whine out his name. 

“Oh— Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling  as that familiar pressure started to build on the base of your spine. Your hands were sweaty, clenching onto the fabric of your flowery dress as Jungkook continued to moan and lick his way around your pussy. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

Jungkook was looking up at you through the thick curtain of his messy hair, his devilish eyes sparking up in a silent dare for you to make a mess on his tongue. At the same time that he told you to keep quiet, you knew that he got off when you were loud — especially in a place like that, where the two of you could get caught. He was a fucking demon when he wanted to be, and he seriously didn’t have any trouble dragging you to hell along with him. 

The worst part was that you liked it. You liked it since the very first time he had you, liked the way he took your precious control away from you. You liked when he had you like that: a shivering, desperate mess hanging by a thread; dwelling in the fantastic sensation of his wet muscle prodding your entrance, fucking it open as he stared up at you like he could eat you whole. 

It was always the sight of Jungkook like that — between your thighs, eating you out like you were his favorite sweet — that pushed you over the edge. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, muffling your needy cries as you finally reached your high, his tongue still playing with your clit as you came down. Jungkook groaned as a small wave of your arousal dripped on him, his mouth expertly cleaning it up, just like he had promised. 

“S-Stop,” you whimpered, a violent shiver overtaking your muscles as you started to feel the effects of your sensitivity. “Too much.” 

After a final stroke of his tongue against your slick, Jungkook tugged your panties back in place and removed your thigh from his shoulder before, finally, he moved back to his feet. Your hand, weak, let go of the fabric and allowed your dress to collapse back into place, covering the mess between your legs. 

He smirked at your overwhelmed, fucked-out state as he tugged himself back inside his pants. The sound of his zipper was once again a noisy interruption, which brought along a new wave of panic as you remembered your location. 

You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist, twisting it around so you could look at his watch. “We have five minutes until closing time.” You sighed heavily, looking up at him with your typical irritated stare. His magic didn’t last for long, after all. “Why are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Jungkook raised one eyebrow, unable to hide the entertainment in his voice as he watched your expression. He ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing it back. “Incredibly handsome? Charismatic? Good at everything? Including eati—”  

“I was going to ask why do you have the inherent need to defile religious places, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” you interrupted. “By the way, this,” you pointed between you two, “is not happening again. So I hope you had a good last time.” 

Jungkook chuckled, holding your chin with his fingers. “This is like the third time you’re saying that, baby.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, barely a tender press of his lips against yours. “But whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

 ~

Check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

Taglist: @youurkryptonite @taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230

[dracoscene]

Hi friend! Just ran across your work and I love it!! 😍🤍 would you be willing to write something angsty where the reader overhears him talking to Blaise about how clingy she is and decides to give him space only to find out he was taking about Pansy? And then all is good and there so much fluff and love 💕

Crossed Wires | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Contains: angst, kinda mean Draco, FLUFF

A/N: Thank you so so much for the request, hope this is close to what you wanted!

Word count: 1.6k

_______________________________

"She's pathetic, Blaise."

You came to a halt when you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

"No matter where I go, she's there, all the time. Like a bloody dog." His voice was filled with pure hate. It felt as if the blood in your veins froze as the words fell from his lips.

"What do you expect mate, this girl is head over heels for you. Don't you see the drool on her chin everytime you're within a five mile radius of her?"

Draco scoffed at his friend's words. "It's repulsive."

Repulsive. You weren't unfamiliar with those kind of words coming from him. He almost used them on a daily basis; when students ran past him in the hallways, when Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their faces with pastries at dinner, when first years cried after Draco had just threatened to hex them, or when Potter just so much did as breathe. What you were unfamiliar with, was him using those words in connection with you, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

A tap on your shoulder ripped you from your thoughts, making you flinch. You turned around to see Pansy standing behind you with her hands up.

"Woah there, didn't mean to scare you." She laughed, waiting for a response that didn't come.

Pansy cleared her throat as she re-adjusted the bag on her shoulders. "So, do you think Draco and Blaise are here already?" Shit. It totally slipped your mind that the reason you came here was the study date the four of you agreed on having before dinner. You watched Pansy silently as she took a few steps forward to look around the bookshelf you two were standing next to.

"Found them!"

You didn't care to move, all you wanted to do was just turn around and get out of there, dreading to face Draco after what he'd just said. Still, you followed Pansy to where the boys were sitting.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed when you spotted the blonde already looking in your direction, the annoyance in his face very much visible. Your eyes met for a moment before you felt the urge to look away, feeling small under his gaze.

Confusion was growing inside of Draco when you took the free space on the couch next to Blaise and not him like you usually did. It felt weird doing so, but you were too embarrassed to sit next to him right now, knowing that he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

Blaise's eyes alternated between you and Draco, trying to figure out what was going on when Pansy dropped her bag with a loud thud before making herself comfortable next to Draco, grinning. "Well then, shall we begin?"

Minutes went by like hours, the only sounds being the turning of pages and the occasional scoffs coming from Pansy when she didn't understand something in the Potions book.

"Draco could you help me with th-"

"No."

Draco didn't even bother to look at the book in front of him. His eyes had been burning into you from the second you sat down next to his friend. You shifted in your seat, staring at that one sentence in your book that you were trying to read for the seventh time now, but you just couldn't focus long enough. Your cheeks were on fire, feeling utterly intimidated by your boyfriends stare.

After what felt like an eternity, Pansy and Blaise started packing up their books. Draco didn't even move a muscle.

"See you at dinner then." Blaise stated before leaving the library with Pansy by his side. You hurried to gather your stuff, trying to catch up to them, but a firm grasp on your wrist stopped you.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Draco's voice was stern, but you could still make out a hint of insecurity.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I'm just.. tired I guess? Oh and I've been having this awful headache all day and I don't really want to bother you with that so I think I should just g-"

"I'm not stupid, y/n." he cut you off. "I know when something's up with you. What is it?"

You didn't know what to say. Confronting him about what you heard would've been the mature way to handle things, but you were hurt. Hurt about the way he talked about you, and especially how he did it; behind your back. So, you removed your hand from his grasp and looked up at him. "I'll go now. I know you don't want to have me around anyway, so don't act like you care."

You left, leaving Draco completely baffled. If you wouldn't have been in such a hurry to get away, if you would've looked a little more closely, you might have seen the effect your words had on him.

He did care. A lot.

__________________________

Draco knew you probably wouldn't want him to sit next you during dinner, that's why he did exactly that. He wasn't just going to let this go, so he plopped down next to you.

Your whole body tensed up, and Draco noticed.

The poor boy was confused as ever, you could almost see his brain working with high speed, thinking of every encounter and every conversation with you he had that day, trying to figure out what in the world he's done that made you avoid him.

Confusion turned into frustration real fast when he just couldn't seem to think of anything.

"This is ridiculous, y/n." his voice was barely above a whisper, but the desperation in it was loud and clear. "Will you just tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"

Draco's eyes followed your every move as you turned to look at him. "Can we go somewhere else?" your voice was shaking and you could feel a lump forming in your throat.

He gave you a quick nod before standing up and taking your hand to lead you out of the Great Hall. Pansy called out his name when you two walked past her, but Draco simply waved her off.

The laughter and chatting of students stopped when the doors closed behind you. He led you a little further away with your hand still in his. You felt your heart pounding in your chest when he turned to look at you, it was beating so fast you were scared he might hear it.

"Will you talk to me now?" his thumb started caressing the top of your hand when he saw how nervous you were, as an attempt to calm you down. "I need to know what's going on, did I do something?" "What happened?"

Tears fiilled your eyes when you replayed the words in your head.

"She's pathetic."

"Like a bloody dog."

"Y/n?" his soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"I heard what you said." You tried your hardest to keep your composure. "In the library, about how I'm always with you and how pathetic you think that is." Your voice broke at that last part.

Draco's face fell when he realized that you thought his words were directed to you. Thinking about how hurt by his words you must've been made his heart break.

"Darling." he breathed out, gentle hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumb to wipe away the single tear that fell from your eye. "I wasn’t talking about you."

You furrowed your brows as confusion replaced the hurt look on your face. "Huh?"

"It was Parkinson I was talking about, she's been bothering me the whole bloody day."

You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, the color of your cheeks became a crimson red, which you tried to hide as best as you could by covering your face with both of your hands.

Draco let out a laugh as he took your hands into his and pulled you into a hug, his head resting on yours. "I'm so so stupid, oh my god." your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Sometimes." he chuckled while rubbing soothing circles on your back with his hands. "You should know better than to think I’d ever talk about you like this, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." you lifted you head and looked up at him through wet eyelashes, hands resting flat against his upper body.

"Merlin y/n, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you." he planted a kiss on your forehead, lingering for a second before you buried your face back into his chest. Your arms draped around his waist, holding fast onto him.

The creaking of doors made Draco's head shoot up, looking in the direction of approaching footsteps. His face turned into a sneer as soon as he saw Pansy turn around the corner, looking for him.

"Draco why aren't you in th- oh. Am I interrupting something?" Her gaze landed on you.

You felt the muscles in Draco's arms flex around your body as he pulled you even closer into his chest like he was trying to protect you from her prying eyes.

"For fucks sake, Parkinson. Get lost." he snapped at her, voice brimming with venom. This was all it took for Pansy to leave as fast as she came.

Draco scoffed before he let one arm fall to his side, leaving the other one around your waist to keep you close.

"Pathetic, isn't she?" You leaned into him, smiling. Draco couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips at your statement.

"Hey" he grabbed your chin, lifting it so you were looking at him. "I love you, always will. You know that, right?"

You gave him a reassuring nod before planting a kiss on his lips. "Love you too, Dray. More than anything."

[beespeaks]

Just in case...

Stu Macher X Reader 

Stu gets nervous before his party and decides to come see you in case anything goes wrong...

Aged up characters in college/uni

Tags: Swearing, mentions of murder, character death, basic Scream plot with added character and it’s in college though that’s not mentioned, Making out, angst

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, major character death

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed, book in hand, trying to process the day. Casey Becker and Steve Orth had been murdered the night before, and if you were being honest, that scared you. From what everyone had said at school and what you had heard on the news, it had been a pretty violent death too. You didn’t understand who could ever do something like that and why? What could have possibly possessed someone to do that? It wasn’t right. 

You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the book in your hands but you couldn’t shake the fear swirling in your belly. You were home alone and that just made it worse. You usually craved the nights your parents would go away and leave you alone, but tonight you wished there was someone else here with you. 

Stu was having a party tonight, and he pointedly didn’t invite you which just made you feel worse. In fact, he went out of his way to uninvite you and tell you not to come. You weren’t sure why he didn’t want you there or what you had done to upset him, but you pretended you didn’t care, laughing it off like it was no big deal. You hated parties anyway. 

A tapping on your bedroom window pulls you away from your thoughts and the neglected book in your hands. There was silence for a second as panic mounted in your gut and then you saw another flash against the window. Someone was throwing something at your window. The only person who ever did that was Stu. You hoped. 

Shakily, you padded across the floor to the window and peaked out into the night. It was hard to make out anything much but when you saw another flash against the glass, you knew it was Stu. This flash was green. He was throwing Skittles again. When you had asked him why, he said they were more fun than pebbles.

You sigh and slide the cool glass up the frame and peer out just as a red Skittle goes flying past your head into your bedroom. 

“Fuck!” Stu curses. “Sorry!” He stands on the pavement outside, a sheepish look on his face. He’s hunched in on himself, almost like he’s cold. 

“Can I come in?” He calls, his voice sounds strange and yet it still comforts you just like it always has. You shut the window and run down to let him in, trudging back up the stairs before he even gets in the door and refusing to look at him. Just because you hadn’t planned on going to that party, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that he didn’t want you there. 

Your bedroom is cold when you return and it feels smaller with Stu leaning against the doorframe behind you. 

“Y/N.” Stu starts and you turn around to look at him. He looks conflicted and small somehow, even considering his tall frame. Something is definitely bothering him and you want to ask what it is. You don’t though, something tells you that you don’t want to know. 

“Why wasn't I invited to your party?” You ask instead, you decide you can ask him about it tomorrow. Stu looks surprised by your question, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that it would bother you. Part of you thinks that’s sweet. 

“You don't want to come. Trust me.” Something dark laces his words but you brush it off, choosing instead to let his words irritate you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. 

“How do you know? I might have wanted to.” Stu smiles slightly but his eyes still won’t meet yours, he keeps them trained on his shoes. 

“It sucks. You would hate it.” He murmurs and you scoff. 

“So, that’s why you’re here then, your party sucked so you thought you’d come and annoy me. How did you know I wouldn't have plans? I could have gone out tonight despite the curfew.” You almost yell. Stu is one of your best friends and there is defiantly something more there, but he always treated you like a second choice. A backup plan. He was always off with Tatum - his actual girlfriend, or Billy Loomis. The only times he ever had time for you was when no one else was around. You were sick of being a secret. 

Stu sighs at your outburst and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m glad you were home.” He whispers. It’s quiet, you almost miss it but it changes something. All the anger and hurt you had been holding onto vanishes and you finally take a proper look at the blonde boy in front of you. 

The usual loud, goofy idiot is quiet and he looks like he might break any second. He’s standing as close to the doorframe as he can, like he needs to it to hold himself up. His eyes are on anything but you and even from here you can see his breathing is uneven. 

“Stu? What’s wrong?” Taking steps towards him, you reach your hand out and touch his shoulder. He flinches slightly before leaning into your touch. “Stu, look at me.” You keep your voice low and soft, like you're talking to a frightened animal. Shaking his head a few times he turns his head slowly to you. His blue eyes are scared and sad and something else that breaks your heart. Now that he’s finally looking at you, his resolve starts to crumble. You were always the one thing that could break down his defenses. You were the one person he never had to pretend with. You were his safe place. 

“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice breaks and then he’s crying, almost hysterically. Deep, laboured breathes and attempts to stop. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug as fast as you can, wanting to make him feel even a little better as soon as you can. 

His arms wrap around you instantly, his face buried in your neck as he sobs. He’s shaking and digging his nails into your back but you don’t care. You have no idea what it is that could have him this upset. Stu has always been sensitive and he’ll cry at any sad movie the two of you watch, but even you’ve never seen him like this. 

“It’s okay, Stu. It’s okay.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his temple. He doesn’t tell you, but this is all he needed. All he ever needed. 

He does whisper something into the crook of your neck though. You don’t catch what it is until he pulls himself away from you to look into your eyes. He swears your eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His own eyes are still red and filled with tears. 

“I love you.” He whispers and you gasp softly. If he had told you this any when else, you would have called bullshit and told him there were easier ways for him to get laid than fucking with your emotions. But the look in his eyes and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, you can’t believe it’s a lie. You also can’t lie to him. 

“I love you, too.” 

His lips are on you before the words are even fully out of your mouth. A passionate, heated kiss filled with unspoken words and over a year of holding yourselves back. Your hands grip in his hair and his knead at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You cling to each other like you don’t need anything in the world as much as you need this, like he’s the oxygen you’ve been craving, like you’re the rain after the longest drought. 

The two of you move backwards and fall down onto the bed, never letting go of each other. He’s on top of you now and his lips are traveling to your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses and whispers of ‘I love you’ over and over again. You whisper it back every time. Even if you don’t know why he’s falling apart, you know that’s what he needs to hear to keep him together. 

Just as his lips are back on yours, softer and slower now but still as passionate as before, you hear a ringing. Stu pulls back and curses as he pulls a cellular telephone from his back pocket. He looks defeated and scared again. 

He doesn't answer the phone, just switches it off and slips it in his back pocket with a sigh. You don’t know why, but you know he’s about to leave. Maybe it was Tatum. She is his girlfriend after all. The reminder pangs in your chest. 

Stu’s blue eyes meet yours and you can’t find it in you to ask about Tatum or push him away like you should when he kisses you again. Softly and sadly. A kiss full of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and something that feels like goodbye. 

He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and just breathe in your familiar, comforting scent for a moment longer. 

“I love you.” He whispers before getting up and leaving the room. He doesn’t look back.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night and your friend Randy recalls the events of Stu’s party, you collapse onto the floor as everything clicks into place in ways you really wish it wouldn’t. It felt like goodbye, because it was. 

Stu Macher was dead and you were always going to think about the fact that you saw him last. You could have stopped him, if you had just asked him one more time if he was okay. Just one more time and he might have told you what was happening. One more time and he might still be here.

At least now you knew why you weren’t invited to  his party.

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E131 (March 30, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Brian points out that a lot of Caleb’s greatest fears have come to pass. Liam: “It’s funny, because he’d kind of believed for a while that those things weren’t going to happen. After a while, he got complacent.” He notes that it was extra wild because everything with Trent popped up again in the midst of that complacency. And how did it feel to be defiant toward Trent? “I think Trent successfully made Caleb question if Caleb really was in control“ at the dinner party. “I feel like anything that I do is part of his plans for me, or is that just gaslighting? I’m legitimately scared of that dude.” Sam: “Of Matt?” Liam: “Sure.” He highlights the disconnect between knowing that the M9 is mechanically powerful and could possibly defeat Trent in a dice-and-stats battle, versus fearing him in a story sense and being convinced he can do almost anything.

Sam, on Luc’s death: “That was brutal, man. Matt Mercer is a-- he hates children! Clearly. He actively sought to kill a child in the campaign in as brutal a way as possible. He hates children and wants them dead. Canon. No, but to RP, that was horrible.” He highlights that so much of Veth’s arc has been about trying to get back to her family. “We had to choose something and we thought we were making the right choice. It was all Veth’s fault, and it was pretty rotten. My heart was beating pretty fast, and I certainly didn’t want to have my son die live on the stream. I don’t know what Veth would have done. That’s the end, that’s over. It’s almost worse than when your own character would die. This is something that would also kill Veth.” After the episode was over: “just shaken. I also didn’t know what to do next! That felt like a turning-point moment for my character, weirdly so close to what we assume to be the end arc of this campaign. I texted Matt later that night and was like, that’s it, Veth’s out, I’m tapping out.”

There’s an interlude in which Sam discovers a new dream to record an episode of this show from his Peloton. Dani informs him that she will not be inviting him back.

On Astrid, Liam: “I literally don’t know what she’s doing. I know that she’s dangerous, she always was ambitious, and there’s not been a moment where Caleb let his guard down with her. He’s not trying to reestablish what they had. He cares for the both of them, for Astrid and Eodwulf. He thinks about it a lot, still. He can’t tell how much she buys into everything that she experienced and is now living as a full-grown adult. He suspects that she’s bought in and is not going to change things, because she believes in the system, as much as he’d like to peel her away. He does believe that they want what’s best for the Empire, and stopping whatever wants to come vomiting out of a hole in the frozen north is good for everyone. And they’re powerful. They’re not trustworthy, obviously. But there’s enough at stake to make it worth it. He could imagine a situation where they fight each other to the death.” He was convinced Astrid was going to stop them when they left the tower and was really shocked when she held back. Sam: “Not me! I’ve trusted Astrid since day one. She’s the greatest! I sent a letter to her, she’s very nice, I think you guys would be a nice couple. I believe every word she says.”

On having to decide on Veth deciding to go off and save the world after Luc’s death. “Like I said, I was ready to be done. And then I decided somewhere in there that that’s not very D&D. So I thought I’d leave it up to somebody else, so I asked Caduceus to decide for me, essentially. She knows she’s putting her other family in danger if she doesn’t go. It’s an impossible choice, you know?” Liam: “I love watching you grapple with it, because you’re a lovely father and love your kids.”

On the Sanatorium, Sam: “That was brutal, man. Matt lulls you into a sense of complacency. We’d forgotten that Caleb was a stone-cold killer! It had been a while since he went on a murder spree. Still got it!” Liam: “I never meant for this character to be perfect sunshine.” Brian: “You don’t say.” Liam: “He’s very not-perfect, and I think in his brain, he was going in with the impression that they needed to get in and get out as soon as possible. The place is crawling with people with magic ability, and I didn’t have faith that we wouldn’t be sussed out or something wasn’t going to blow an illusion.” Everything was about getting out of there as fast as possible.

Did the conversation with Yeza help with Veth’s decision? “First of all, every conversation with Yeza is a beautiful one. Every time she talks to Yeza, it makes her feel good. In some ways, she’s gotten to the point now where she knows Yeza’s going to be supportive, she knows he’s going to allow her to do what she wants, but maybe that’s too much. Maybe she needs to not listen to him, basically, and be like, no, you need to be selfish now, dude, you need to say ‘come home, I’m sick of you leaving’. At a certain point, being supportive can turn into being enabling.”

Cosplay of the Week: Jester in the snow! (liljerbear47, photography by kairiceleste on Instagram)

On Trent’s motivations for chasing Caleb: “I really don’t know. The simplest explanation is to just hammer down the nail that’s sticking up. It has crossed his mind that all high-level wizards are in danger of their own ambition and egos, so it’s occurred to him that Trent might have the same kind of ideas that Halas had in the past, and maybe Caleb was always meant to be another body to jump into. Maybe in some sick, disgusting, twisted way, he wants him to be his successor. I am thinking of the next campaign, without getting too deep in, trying to do something that is much more ride-along. Caleb is very, very specific, and I thought long and hard about all the different pieces on the chessboard for him. For campaign three, I’m looking forward to seeing what happens.”

Dani: “Do I need to be keeping lore on your fucking ads?”

On the cursed dagger: “It was a tricky one, because in campaign one, one of the characters was under the influence of a cursed weapon, but it interacted with him and he knew what it was and what it did. And it affected his gameplay as a character. For me, Veth didn’t know what it was, ever. I as a player knew what it was doing, but Veth didn’t know at all. So it was kind of like my dirty, dark secret for many months. I knew this thing was coming perilously close to killing me, but my character didn’t know enough to bring it up to her friends. Nobody ever asked! So I was like, well, I guess this thing’s just going to kill me one day, and it’s kind of going to be a surprise.” Liam: “Sam, you love danger and self-destruction so much, you might as well be Mollymauk.”

On the fight in Yasha’s sequence, Sam: “You gotta put a character in your storm giant creature. It was so fun! It was so great of Matt to involve us in this encounter. It would’ve been fun just to watch, because Matt would have made it amazing and Ashley was sweating bullets, which is always fun to watch.” Sam notes he felt guilty, but Liam was going for the kill. Liam: “Matt’s gotta be careful about giving me that kind of story beat. I do not fucking care, I just fucking flip, I’m like, well, I’m going to destroy you, and I have no qualms about it. It’s too much fun!”

The Beau/Yasha tower date was in part inspired by not being able to give gifts as easily this last year. “This thing that we do together is a gift, but I love finding these moments, like the book for Jester and the tower for Yasha and for Beau. I really just wanted to give both of them a little magic for a night. I wanted them to leave this-- we’re trying to be as entertaining as possible, but shit is having an effect on all of us too, and I wanted them to have an escape, a great place to escape to.”

Fan Art of the Week: an amazing group shot, plus Marion, Yeza, and Luc! (vocaz on Twitter)

On choosing Essek over Trent, Liam: “It would have been so interesting and awful and great! Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are everything that Bren used to be attracted to that are terrible for him. Essek, hopefully he can with time find a way out of the hole that he dug himself into, but it was only two months ago where he was found out and his ambitions came crashing down around him. Long-term, I have high hopes for him, but I think it’s going to be hard.” In contrast, Astrid and Eodwulf are still “deep in the shit. It would have been really hard to navigate, but fun to play at the table. We made the right choice with what we went with. Essek’s just getting started, and Caleb doesn’t trust him entirely, because he was burned so hard not too long ago. He’s still more trustworthy than the other three. So it’s the better choice. While Caleb has all these ties on the other side, they’re really fucking dangerous. So if you have to choose, you choose Essek. But fuck that die.” Sam: “Veth, much like Sam Riegel, makes instant decisions about whether to trust someone or not and sticks to it forever. Astrid, 100% trust. Eodwulf, 100% distrust. Essek, completely distrust. I still don’t think he’s a good guy. Ikithon? Trust. 100%. Because you know where he’s coming forward, you know what he wants. I still want him dead, but I trust him.”

On Veth’s post-adventuring plans: “Veth is probably still too in it right now to think about what comes next. I, Sam Riegel, have a good idea of what I want Veth to do post-campaign.” Brian: “Maybe you shouldn’t tell us. Save it for the show!” Sam: “All she knows is she can’t do this anymore. It’s very unhealthy to be battle-wounded every other day. It’s fun for a while, but college has to end at some point, and she’s gotta go home.”

On Frumpkin changing appearance and returning to the Feywild: “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but the way it feels now for Caleb is that he feels too enmeshed in everything that has happened, and too much good has happened, and too much needs to happened, that that really narcissistic, selfish goal has the risk of harming everything else, which is more important. And that’s how he looks at it now. So he’s gearing towards letting everything from the beginning of the campaign, and where he started, go, and trying to figure out what use he’s going to be now and what he’s going to do if they’re not all dead. If Matt throws that shit down, I don’t know what I will do, I think about it a lot. But turning Frumpkin white and saying you’re free either way is him preparing to let go of everything he’s been holding on to for a really long time. He’s addicted to that idea that he can fix himself, and we’ll see if that hard choice gets presented, what he might do. But where he stands now, he doesn’t think that’s going to be reality, and he sees a way that he can be of use that he never really anticipated before, so he’s slowly shifting gears towards living with the pain he was trying to remove.”

On the last request scene and confidence heading into Aeor, Sam: “I feel like that’s a good request. I think all of us realized that if we die, that probably bodes badly for the world. I feel like all of us are at a point now as characters and as friends, that the first order of business would be to take care of everybody else’s shit, although we probably have different ideas of how to do that.” Liam: “I want the Empire to be healed, Caleb has all these memories of his parents and what they wanted for the world, and he wants that too. It’s clearly not in place now, the system needs to be broken and replaced. That could be a part of Caleb’s sunset. I don’t want Caleb to die, so maybe he can work on that after. As everything starts to shake out and we start heading towards our destiny, Caleb’s just free-floating. He’s not even going after the same thing he started for. So he’s looking at Veth’s family, and Luc specifically, and seeing that’s me, that’s a little boy in the Empire.”