#I’ll eventually find new ones if I wanna play still

[rosiegames]

Maybe it’s time to return to single player 🙄

[freedomfireflies]

Pillow Talk*

Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Word Count: 7.2k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!

“Oh, absolutely not.”

“Come on. Just one time.”

“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”

You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 

“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”

You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”

“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”

You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 

But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.

“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”

There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.

You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.

Or maybe it won’t.

But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.

So, with that thought…you open the door. 

He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.

And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.

He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.

“What?” you huff.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”

“Okay…?”

“You changed your hair.”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. It’s nice.”

You cross your arms. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.

“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.

“Right, yeah.”

“Okay.”

You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.

When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Why?”

Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”

He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”

“I don’t care.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”

Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”

“Never thought I’d have to say it.”

“Mm. You changed your mattress.”

“Obviously.”

“And the sheets and blankets, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”

“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”

“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice.”

“Bite me.”

He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”

“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 

You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.

And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”

You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”

“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

More quiet.

“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 

Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”

“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”

“Right.”

“And I just figured—”

“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.

The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.

“What?” you eventually hiss.

“Are you dating someone?” he asks.

“What?”

“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”

You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”

“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”

“Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”

“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”

“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”

Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”

His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”

You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”

“Vanilla?”

Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”

“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”

You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”

“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”

Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”

“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”

“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”

“So he’s not vanilla?”

“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”

“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”

“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”

Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”

“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”

“So what he’d do?”

“Harry—”

“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”

“Ew, no—”

“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”

You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”

“And…?”

“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”

“Sure.”

Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”

Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”

“I guess. It could have been worse.”

“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”

You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”

“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”

“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”

He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”

You turn back. “What?”

“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”

“Poppy—”

“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”

“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”

“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”

“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”

“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”

“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”

You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”

He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”

“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”

“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”

“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”

He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”

“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”

“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”

“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”

“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”

“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”

“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”

“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”

“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”

“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”

“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”

He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.

Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.

But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.

Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.

He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.

The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.

He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 

His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.

“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”

You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”

He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”

“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”

Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.

He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.

Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.

However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.

“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”

“Hm. Don’t push it.”

“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 

“Maybe.”

“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”

“…not exactly.”

“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.

“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”

“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”

He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”

He smirks. “How romantic.”

“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”

So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.

Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 

He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.

And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 

Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.

He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.

You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.

But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?

There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 

Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 

And just like that…

It’s over.

You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.

He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.

Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”

You blink. “Um…okay.”

He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”

The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”

“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”

“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 

“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”

“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”

“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”

“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”

 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”

“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”

“I was taking care of myself—”

“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”

“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”

“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”

He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”

“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”

He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”

You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”

His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”

You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”

His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.

“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”

You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”

“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

And deep down…you know he’s right.

“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”

Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.

Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.

So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 

You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.

Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.

And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.

“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”

“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”

“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”

“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”

“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”

You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”

“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”

“Harry. Come on. I know you.”

“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”

You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”

“No?” He grins. “Why not?”

“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”

He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”

You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”

He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 

He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.

Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 

“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”

“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”

“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”

You pout. “Mhm.”

He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 

And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 

“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.

“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”

You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.

He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 

But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.

You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.

“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.

You glance up. 

“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”

“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”

“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”

He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”

“You used to make me happy.”

The soft strokes against your spine slow. 

“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”

“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”

You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.

But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.

“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”

“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 

“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”

More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.

And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”

You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

Another pause. You don’t know what to say.

“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”

You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”

“Did we?”

“Harry…”

“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”

“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”

“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”

“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.

But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.

“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”

You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 

“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”

His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”

You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.

You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.

“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 

He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”

You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.

His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”

It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”

“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”

You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”

He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”

“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”

He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”

You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”

“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”

“Oh, you did, huh?” 

“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”

You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”

“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”

“We did indeed.”

“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”

“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”

“Is that right?” 

“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”

“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”

“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”

“And does it work?”

“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”

He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”

“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”

“I imagine you, too.”

You blink. “You do?”

“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”

You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 

Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.

Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 

Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.

Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.

The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.

He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.

You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.

You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 

You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 

And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.

You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.

Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.

But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.

“Make me a deal,” you whisper.

He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”

“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”

His eyes open.

“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”

He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.

Even if it’s just as friends.

Exes.

Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.

His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.

You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.

You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 

You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.

And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Good morning, Poppy.”

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Final Part

A/N: this is the main ending. there is an alternative ending available for the other boy on patreon. the link for which is found at the end of this chapter.

Word count: 13k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, mostly dom!reader, face-sitting, PIV sex, dirty talk, creampie, handjob, heartbreak.

“Hey, baby.” You greet Yeonjun, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Ready to go?” 

You were picking him up to go home after a long day of work for the both of you. You had in mind a night of drinking wine and complaining about your day until you passed out in his arms and you can’t wait to get home already. 

“Just a little longer, doll.” He tells you and you immediately start whining. “Junnie… those two bottles of wine I bought aren’t gonna drink themselves. We gotta get cracking.” 

He chuckles tiredly. “While I appreciate your efforts to get me drunk, Beomgyu has composed a new song and I need to stay back to hear it.”

“Oh.” It’s still so weird to you how you now have to hear news about what your best friend is up to from other people. You used to know these things first. If this was a few months ago, you’d have already heard the song before anyone else did. But now you’re lucky if you even get to hear it at all. 

But that’s for the best. You’re doing good with Yeonjun. You’re doing good without Beomgyu. You’re breathing. You’re eating. Your heart is beating… maybe even for someone else for a change. It may have been excruciatingly painful at first–forcing yourself to step away from him, not seeking him out to try to make things better after your most recent fallout, not jumping at the chance when he reached out himself, pretending like you’re too busy to see him, making up excuses so you won’t be alone with him, building up your walls so maybe one day you can stand in a room with him and not have to hold back every cell of your body from throwing yourself at his feet and begging him to love you, but you’ve gotten a lot better at it. 

“Do you wanna listen to it?” Yeonjun asks when he sees your curiosity, but you hesitate. Should you? Maybe you should just wait in the car…

But when you see Beomgyu come out with his acoustic guitar and set it on his lap, you find yourself nodding and grabbing a seat next to Yeonjun. You miss hearing him sing. You miss being privy to his passions and whims. Maybe it's selfish of you to allow yourself the opportunity to witness more of him than you’re willing to give him but you never claimed to not be selfish. 

As if Beomgyu shares your thoughts, he glances at you, hesitating for a second and you can see the thoughts flitting behind his pretty eyes–you know him too well. Is he thinking about kicking you out? Does he not want you to hear the song because you’ve been keeping your distance from him? 

Eventually though he looks down at his guitar and starts to play, and as soon as the first words leave his lips, your heart drops. 

Oh, I’m falling in love

As time goes by

As my feelings grow 

I’m becoming more anxious

How deep is your love?

I want to ask

Couldn’t it be the same if not deeper? 

Your heart lurches in your chest at the lyrics. Falling in love? Is Beomgyu falling in love with Haeun? You know you have no right to feel hurt by this but you do. Why couldn’t he have loved you? What does he see in her that you couldn’t have given him? Is she prettier than you? Smarter? Kinder? Funnier? What was it that made you fall short of deserving his love? 

Seeing you change little by little

I’m afraid I’ll lose you

Not mine

My one minute, one second

Take them all

All my time is yours

Why?

Why have you changed?

Why are you so far away from me? 

Now we are at different paths. 

It hurts even more that it seems she’s not reciprocating his feelings. She has everything you want and she doesn’t even want it. He’s willing to give her everything but it seems it’s not enough for her. Oh how cruelly ironic. 

She seemed to be very into him before, at least after the band got more popular, and with every increase in their popularity, she attached herself to him more and more, but something must’ve gone wrong along the line. You have known for some time that Beomgyu and Haeun have been having relationship troubles but you don’t know exactly what because Beomgyu hasn’t told anyone but you guess it’s really bad if this song is about them. 

Is she in love with someone else? Has she lost interest? How could she do it so easily when it’s taking everything in you to do the same. Can she tell you her secret so you can stop suffering and give your heart completely to the man who actually wants it? 

How can I go back

To our beginning

When we were looking at the same place

The when we had the same heart

I hope you don’t know it

This feeling

Even though I love you

I still feel alone

He’s hiding it from her, afraid to reveal his feelings–maybe because he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way, that if he reveals them she’ll reject him. You know that feeling all too well. You wish you could protect him from it even if he was the cause of your own similar pain.

As the chorus repeats, you become even more sure that the song is about him. You can hear the anguish so clearly in his voice. Beomgyu has always been so talented, always able to give his all to the song and live it as if it’s his own, but you know him too well. You know this is real pain. 

I’m drowning in you

Don’t leave me like this

As the bridge reaches its climax, your body shakes, wanting to lunge forward and take him into your arms, to save him from himself even if it would tear you to pieces. But you can’t. You don’t have the right to anymore. All you can do is sit there and wait for him to finish his song, wait for the boys to discuss it as if it’s not his heart being laid out in the open to be dissected. 

“What do you think?” He asks once the song is over, biting the skin of his finger, a nervous habit you’ve always quietly found adorable. You would always grab his hand and kiss the poor finger better, scolding him for hurting himself, but secretly you loved it. You loved having his hand in yours. You loved having an excuse to press your lips against him. And you loved the smile he would always give you in response. 

“It’s really good." Kai says, impressed. "Didn’t know that someone as emotionally stunted as you could come up with such a moving song."

"Fuck off." Beomgyu mutters, not in the mood for jokes, obviously nervous to see what the others think. 

“Yeah, I like it too. You said you’re thinking of having violins in the opening?” Taehyun asks, picking up a music sheet. 

Beomgyu nods. “Yeah. I know we’ve never done that before but I feel like it would really add to the atmosphere of the song.” 

"I think it could be fun." Taehyun hums, turning to Soobin. “What do you think?” 

"I agree. It's good to experiment a bit while still maintaining our sound which I think this song does really well. It could expose us to more people while still not alienating our existing fanbase.” He praises and Beomgyu smiles, relieved at his song being so well-received by the other members. “I especially like the bridge part. I think once Yeonjun sings it, it would really elevate the song.” 

Beomgyu's face falls at that but he quickly covers it up. You furrow your eyebrows. That can't feel good, being compared negatively with Yeonjun, even if Soobin didn't mean it like that. 

You look at Yeonjun, who hadn't said a word so far. He was staring at Beomgyu weirdly. Did he not like the song? 

You nudge him, giving him a questioning look and he just shakes his head, smiling at you before saying, "I like it. Good job, man."

Beomgyu gives him a tense smile in response, and the group falls into an awkward silence for a few seconds–a weird tension hanging in the air, before Soobin clears his throat and begins discussing how they'll play the song, what parts could be improved and who will get which part. You don’t really listen anymore, just looking between Yeonjun and Beomgyu. 

Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over his weird reaction, now focused on the technicalities. Beomgyu is focused too but he doesn’t look as enthusiastic as you expected him to be–as you'd seen him get when talking about his songs before–and it's more proof to you that this is a very personal song to him. 

As the boys finally break up after a while, most of them going their separate ways to pack up their stuff and get ready to leave, your boyfriend stays behind with Soobin, still discussing something with him. That’s when you spot Beomgyu alone, putting his guitar in its case, and you take the opportunity to go talk to him, unable to hold yourself back this time. 

“Hey, Beomgyu, that song was really good.” You start by saying, wanting to congratulate him on a really good song but also needing an opener. But Beomgyu doesn’t say anything in response, simply giving you a blank look–which fucking hurt but you guess you deserve it–so you continue lamely, trying to get him to respond. “You’re really talented. I don’t think you’re gonna need to moonlight as a stripper anymore.” You try to joke but again he doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to his guitar bag which he zips up. 

“Umm… Beomgyu, that song… is it about you?” You bite the bullet, and he finally gives you some sort of response, albeit nonverbal. He looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. “Is it about you and Haeun?” 

“What?” He frowns and you explain yourself nervously, hoping you weren’t overstepping boundaries that have sprung up in your absence. “Well, the song is about a guy who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same about him and how she’s changing and being distant… is that what’s happening with Haeun?” 

He sighs. “Maybe. So what?” 

You wince at his callousness, like he doesn’t have time for you. You suppose you brought it on yourself with the way you've been avoiding him. Still you ignore it, determined to tell him what you think anyway. “Well, if it is, you should tell her. Tell her how you feel, she might feel the same way and you don’t even know. You might both be pulling away when all you want is to be with each other.” Yes, you know how hypocritical it is of you to say that but you can’t imagine a world in which anyone would reject Beomgyu’s love. “If you love her then you should tell her, right?” 

He snorts. “What do you even know about how I feel? Do you have any idea about the amount of hurt and self-loathing it would cause me if she doesn’t feel the same way? How it would ruin our relationship if she’s not where I am?”

“I know.” You grit down on that same pain. “I know.”

He pauses, his anger burning out as soon as it ignites. Then he asks quietly, “Yeonjun?” 

You press down on your lips. You know if you say no then he might figure it out. He might finally discover your wretched secret, so you smile and nod, fully knowing how hypocritical you are being right now. You’re such a fucking coward, you disgust even yourself. 

“Right.” He is quiet for a minute, and the atmosphere is charged with weird, unreadable emotions that buzz in your ear and form sparks over your skin. You almost excuse yourself–not really wanting to leave despite how uncomfortable it is but knowing you should. You’ve said what you wanted to say. There is no good reason for you to linger around any longer. 

But then Beomgyu speaks again. "Are you happy?"

You pause, frowning in suspicion at the unexpected question, which Beomgyu notices right away and clarifies, "We haven't talked in a while. I wanna make sure you're doing alright." He says, tone genuine… and a bit sad. 

"I am." You allow, not being untruthful. You are alright, no matter how bad you feel doing it without him. "We're doing well. Yeonjun is as wonderful as ever. He is sweet and funny and he shows me something new everyday. Which is a bit scary for me–you know how I am afraid of change, but he makes it exciting.” 

“I’m glad. I want you to be happy.” He smiles at you. It doesn’t reach his eyes but you know he means it. “And I wish I could be there to see it for myself. Do you think you can let me?” 

That’s what you were afraid of. This is why you shouldn’t have talked to him. You knew he might use it to try to get back into your life, and you know how hard it would be for you to say no. But you do it anyway. You have to do it for yourself and for Yeonjun. 

“I can’t. Not now.�� Each meager letter leaving your mouth feels like a blow to the heart. It lays battered in your chest, asking you why the hell you would refuse it its salvation, but you just push it down again, silencing it. 

“But I miss you.” His words come out choppy and weak, and you know he’s holding back tears. You hate him for it because it makes you want to cry too. “Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course, I miss you!” You whisper as if you don’t want the universe to hear it. "I'll always miss you. But I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I'm tired of the whiplash." 

"No more whiplash.” He shakes his head harshly, getting closer to you but you step back, causing pain to bloom across his teary face. “I get it now. I've worked through my stuff and I'm ready to be a real friend again." 

"Well, I haven't worked through mine.” You stand strong. Or as strongly as you can be under such duress. “I still need time and I will not have you rush me."

He moves back, shoulders hunched down. "I'm sorry." 

"I know." You say tiredly before walking away, your bruised heart bleeding out at the bottom of your chest.

____________

Beomgyu’s song has become some kind of a local sensation. It is being listened to by a lot of the young people in your city–resonating with many youths who have gone through similar heartbreaks. From small unrequited crushes to the person you love falling out of love with you–who hasn’t loved more than they have been loved before? 

The painfully relatable song has gained the boys a considerable amount of fame online too. They were being asked to do more gigs than ever. They’ve even gotten an interview, which you’re currently preparing them for, dressing them up to look their best on camera. 

Like always, you’ve left Beomgyu for last, dreading being close to him still. And he gives you every reason to, staring at you the whole time you fix his clothes. 

"What?" You finally ask, and he gives you a dumb look. "What?"

"You're staring." You tell him, and he averts his gaze. You can see from the ear poking out of his long hair that he’s blushing. "Oh. Didn't realize." 

Oh, how many times you’ve teased him over the way his ears turn red when he’s embarrassed. It was such an endearing quality in him, just one of the many small reasons that made up the whole of you loving him. 

You got back to styling him, pretending it doesn’t tug at your heartstrings anymore, and he goes back to staring at you. 

After a long beat of silence, he asks awkwardly, "So what are you up to? What's new with you?" 

"Well, I'm the creative director for this up and coming band's new song." You joke, trying to ease off the tension. Or maybe his cute involuntary reaction softened up your defenses a little bit.

"Oh, are they good?" He grins, falling gladly into your familiar banter. 

"They are, but I think their bass guitarist only got the job because of his looks."

He gives an affronted gasp. "What the hell? Hater! What, you think just because he's so pretty he can't possibly be talented too? Us pretty people are always misjudged."

"Oh, you poor pretty boy." You reach out to pinch his chin, before you realize what you’re doing and quickly take your hand away, clearing your throat and stepping back. “All done.” 

You give him a tense smile and turn to leave but his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. 

"Wait." He shouts, and you look down at his hand wrapped around your wrist. He notices your discomfort and immediately lets you go. "Do you want to get together for some food or a movie or something?"

Why does he have to make this so hard? Why does he do this every time? 

"Not yet." You repeat what you must’ve told him a dozen times before. You can't slip back into it. Because your skin still buzzes whenever you touch him and your heart clenches painfully around the hole he left in it whenever you see him. You need time apart to fully let the love you have for him go. 

"When?” He asks, frustrated. “When will it end? What can I do to help? What do you need me to do so you can be my friend again?"

"I need you to give me space." You say firmly, standing your ground. 

“But–”

“No buts, Beomgyu. You’re the one who made it this way. If you had been my friend when I needed you to, we wouldn’t have gotten into this situation. You need to deal with the consequences of your own actions.” 

He stares at the ground, not answering you. You sigh, turning around to leave with no restrictions this time. 

Though what you said to him about his previous behavior causing a rift between you wasn’t false, it wasn’t entirely the truth either. The other reason you felt you couldn’t be his friend again yet is that you’re still not over him, and you’ve made a promise to yourself and to Yeonjun that you will only be devoting yourself to him from now on, and Beomgyu being there is just going to hinder your progress. 

But as you watch the boys do their interview, you can’t help but feel guilty for what you’d said to Beomgyu. You know it was the right thing to do, but seeing him look so glum, his light dimmed and his spirits down, you wish you had held it off at least for later. 

He is acting nothing like his normal loud, talkative self. He looks down and doesn’t speak unless directly asked a question. It hurts your heart because you know the people watching this won’t get to see how funny and bright and passionate he is. They’ll see him as the quiet guy staring at his own feet. He might still get some fans who would be into the quiet, sad look but that’s not who Beomgyu is. That’s not what he wants to be known as. 

But the rest of the boys are covering for him well, especially Yeonjun. He is so charming, you know he’s gonna be stealing hearts left and right when this airs. He certainly has managed to put a smile on your face despite all the conflicting feelings you’re feeling, and you make sure he sees it whenever he glances in your direction. 

_______________

The boys are doing better than ever, more interviews and gigs coming in and filling their schedule up so rapidly they’ll barely have any free time soon. They’re already in talks with a record company looking to sign them. Which is why you’re actively savoring moments like this when you get to just hangout with Yeonjun at the mall, eating a snack as you take a break from shopping–one of your favorite activities to do as a couple. 

“Just think, soon enough we won’t even be able to do this. We’d be getting mobbed by crowds wanting your autograph and pushing me out of the way to take pictures of you.” You say to Yeonjun, half-joking. It might really happen one day with how quickly they’re gaining popularity. They might have small fame now but who knows what tomorrow will bring, and you believe in the boys. They’re talented enough to do it, and that both worries you and excites you. 

“Well, I’ll only ever have eyes for you.” He winks at you, and you give him a small smile.

In moments like this you should feel happy. You are happy. But your happiness is incomplete. It is shadowed by worry and doubt. Yeonjun is so wonderful. He is so sweet and he can be very caring, but sometimes you can’t help but question how much he really feels for you. It keeps you from letting yourself completely go with him. He tells you words that are supposed to be charming, but they don’t sound personal. They don’t feel deep. You know he likes you, but is he ever going to love you? 

Maybe you’re overthinking it. This is what a budding relationship is like–the novelty comes with uncertainty. The first times come with doubt. The young fire sometimes burns. You shouldn’t let yourself ruin it for you. 

Yes, your love for him isn’t as old and deep-rooted as your love for Beomgyu but maybe that’s a good thing. It will take time to grow and flourish and become something just as beautiful or even more so. In time, you can learn to let go of your all-consuming love for your best friend, cover that gaping hole that Beomgyu has left in your heart, forget about the way every time you see Beomgyu with her you feel like screaming out so loud the gods themselves will weep–

“Beomgyu.” You gasp, seeing him in front of you. Fuck, he’s like bloody marry. Call his name three times and he appears. 

You try to hide, putting your head down and attempting to cover your face with your hair but there is no mistaking Yeonjun’s bright orange head and Beomgyu quickly spots you and makes his way over to you with Haeun of all people. 

“Curse your stupid hair.” You hiss at Yeonjun just before Beomgyu and Haeun arrive at the table. 

"Hey, guys, are you on a date?" Beomgyu asks as if there was any doubt about it. 

"Yes, actually." Yeonjun tells him in a tone that clearly conveys that you don’t want to be disturbed, But Beomgyu doesn’t care, grabbing a chair and pulling it out. 

"Oh sweet." He sits down. "How have you guys been?"

“What are you doing, Beommie? We have a lot of shopping to do.” Haeun complains, and every time you hear her call him that you want to claw her tongue out.

"In a minute, baby. Let's rest our legs for a bit." He motions for Haeun to sit down, but she puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to rest.”

“Well then you go on and I’ll catch up with you.” He suggests and she huffs, deciding to sit down after all. Oh, joy.  

“But I can’t leave you alone, Beommie.” She whines, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his neck, making you almost hurl. 

Thankfully, Yeonjun takes your attention away from them. “So, what new crazy thing is your boss asking from you?” 

You turn fully to him, trying your best to ignore the disgusting intruders. “Ugh, don’t even get me started. This morning, she–”

“Boss? What boss?” Beomgyu interrupts, and you clench your teeth, preparing yourself before turning your head to look towards him. 

“The editor of Elements magazine. She saw the Frost shoot and wanted me to do a pictorial for them.” 

“Oh my god, that is amazing.” He shouts, startling Haeun who was so close to his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

An awkward moment passes after his mindless question. Because we don’t talk? Because we’re not friends anymore? 

Eventually, you decide to just shrug. “I guess it must’ve slipped my mind.” 

“Right.” He clears his throat, going along. “Well, show me what you’ve done so far.” 

You hesitate, glancing at Yeonjun who sighs and gestures for you to go ahead. So you pull up your phone, showing him some of the pictures you’ve already taken.  

"Wow this is real artistic shit." Beomgyu awes and you laugh. Trust in Beomgyu to give such an un-nuanced but still somehow very flattering opinion. 

“I don’t get it. It’s just a guy in a bathtub.” Haeun speaks up, obviously intending to antagonize you. “My friend Jiwon takes better pictures than this and he didn’t even go to college. If that’s what they teach you at school then you’ve wasted your money.”

Oh fuck no. You may be spineless but you won’t allow Haeun of all people to make fun of your work. You prepare to launch into a screaming match with her condescending ass, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Beomgyu beats you to it. “Your friend Jiwon takes back camera pictures of weird strangers on the street and makes up an exaggerated or completely false backstory about them to try to make the obviously amateur pictures appear more interesting. How fucking original.”

Beomgyu’s quick defense of you makes your heart swell. Some things never change. 

“Yeah? Like this is original!” She sputters indignantly. 

“I know it’s nothing groundbreaking.” You interrupt their quarrel, “Like a guy in a tub staring longingly at the camera isn’t something that hasn’t exactly been done before but… umm, it’s actually inspired by your song. The colored water is supposed to represent love, you know the “I’m drowning in you” part? It’s killing him but he can’t get himself to get out. He wants to drown in it… I don’t know it may be stupid but I hope you don’t mind.” 

"Oh. No, I'm… flattered." He trails off, staring at you wide-eyed. “I didn’t think I would be able to inspire you again…” 

“Yeah, well...” You mumble bashfully, a charged moment passes over you as you stare silently at each other. 

"Are you done?" Haeun complains, and for once you’re thankful to her for cutting the strange moment. "I'm bored. Let's go." 

“We haven’t even eaten anything yet. Take a look at the menus and order something for us, won’t you?” He asks her, but doesn’t even wait for her response before turning back to you. "You know what would be hilarious. If you get the editor to let you do a shoot with the plastic watermelon dress you made."

“It’s not plastic.” You roll your eyes at him, knowing exactly which dress he’s referring to. “It’s coral organza.”

“Looked like plastic to me.” He shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“That’s because you're fashion illiterate.” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m very fashion forward and hip.” He proclaims, sounding decidedly NOT neither fashion forward nor hip. 

“Yes, because a punk guitarist wearing ratty shirts and ripped jeans is so revolutionary.” You drawl teasingly and he pouts, pulling at his shirt. “Hey! You were there when I picked these out. You said I looked cool.” 

“Yeah, she’ll say you look cool wearing a garbage bag.” Yeonjun scoffs and you blush, realizing that you’ve completely neglected Yeonjun as soon as Beomgyu got here. You move back from your huddled forward stance to lean against your boyfriend.

“What?” Beomgyu asks and you quickly brush Yeonjun’s comment off. “Nothing. Now Yeonjun is very stylish. He knows all the trends and he knows how to make them work for him.” 

Beomgyu snorts, glancing at your hand that is caressing Yeonjun’s chest. “I don’t follow trends. I make trends.” 

“That’s right, baby. You’re a trendsetter.” Haeun coos, getting her hands on him too, touching him much more inappropriately than you were touching Yeonjun. 

But Beomgyu ignores her once again, asking you, "How did you even reach the editor of Elements?"

"Oh, Yeonjun knew her." Your hand falls down to wrap around Yeonjun’s, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Of course, Yeonjun knows the editor." For some reason that piece of information really seemed to annoy Beomgyu. But you ignore his unnecessarily snarky tone and turn to smile at Yeonjun, hoping he’d forgive you for your earlier mishap. “Yeah, he’s amazing, isn’t he?” 

"Yes, he’s great.” Beomgyu mutters, standing up. “I think me and Haeun have stuff to do. Let’s go, baby."

"Yes!" She claps happily, standing up too. 

"Oh, okay. Bye, I guess." You mumble, watching them abruptly scurry off as you try to process the weird interaction.  "What's wrong with him?"

“Maybe he’s just being his usual weird self.” Yeonjun shrugs, removing his hand from yours, making you frown. "Or maybe he feels inadequate because I was able to get you the job and he couldn't."

"That's ridiculous." Why would Beomgyu feel inadequate about that? He doesn’t have any obligation to get you work. 

"Is it? If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too." 

"What?" The world suddenly screeches to a halt, as does Yeonjun. He looks at you, slowly contemplating something as if he doesn’t know that the world has stopped and is waiting on him. 

Finally, he sighs. "I tried to ignore it. Partly because the idiot is trying to hide it and partly because I like you, but ever since we got together, it's been pretty damn hard to ignore. Beomgyu is clearly in love with you.”

"No. You’re getting it wrong.” You shake your head, hoping to get rid of the cotton that has replaced your brain, your thoughts feeling fuzzy and slow as they travel through it. “He's just upset because he thinks us dating will drive me and him apart… which I guess has been true."

"No, he's upset because he wants to be with you and it's killing him to see us together.” Yeonjun clarifies, irritated at having to explain to you how some other guy is in love with you. 

"How can you be so sure? Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to tell me. I have eyes…" He looks you up and down. "And well, I'm not stupid like you two."

"That's ridiculous." You denounce once more. 

"You said that already."

"Well, it is! Beomgyu doesn’t love me. I mean as a friend, sure but not… like that." 

"Oh my god, I'm dealing with two idiots. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m explaining this to you but here goes,” Yeonjun exclaims in frustration, obviously not enjoying this conversation any more than you are. “Think about it, no guy gets this worked up over just a fuck. His first explanation of his anger being just because he’s afraid our relationship is going to ruin the band was total bullshit. It was just to throw you off his scent and have a way to get you to stay away from me without revealing anything. And his second explanation is even more bullshit. Why the fuck would us being in a relationship make you lose him as a friend if he didn’t hold anything but platonic love for you? Why does he get mad every time you and I take a step forward in our relationship? Because he’s fucking in love with you. He literally wrote a whole song about how he’s secretly in love with you and it’s killing him that you’re not his!"

“That song was about me?” You ask and he gives you a look as if to say he can’t believe a single human being can be this dumb. “No, it’s obviously about the girl he’s been ignoring the entire time he was sat with us just so he could talk to you.” 

Your mouth opens slowly, tongue dry as it forms the words. "Let’s say he does love me. Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"Why wouldn't you just tell him?"

You sputter uselessly for a while, not really saying anything. Until you give up and just stop, submerging the both of you in a suffocating silence. You’d think that your thoughts would be racing a million miles an hour right now, trying to process all this information, but nothing is going through your head except one question. 

Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? Beomgyu loves me? 

You’re only taken out of your looping thought when Yeonjun sighs again. "Well, this was fun while it lasted."

"What?" Your mouth hangs open, your frozen brain somehow still having enough power to be shocked. 

"You're obviously still completely in love with him. When he's there it's like you don't even see me. You don't see anyone else." Yeonjun says defeatedly. 

"No, I–" You try to deny, but he gives you a pointed look, daring you to lie to him. 

“Okay, I love him but I’m with you.” 

“Only to get over him.” 

You shake your head vehemently. “No. My feelings for you are real. Don’t you dare deny that.” 

“Maybe, but they’re not as strong as your feelings for him.” 

“But they can be.” You insist–trying to convince yourself or him, you don’t know.  Maybe if you give me the chance to–”

“To what? Wait and see if you’ll finally look for me first when you walk into a room instead of him? Pretend that I don’t know that time and distance haven’t dulled your love for him one bit? I can’t go on in a relationship where I know my partner will always be thinking ‘what if’. I won’t let myself be hurt like that by you. Not anymore.” 

You tear up. You were hurting him? You didn't even think he cared all that much. You must be a terrible judge of character to be getting both boys so wrong. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun. I never meant to hurt you. I really, really tried.” 

You really did. You didn’t do this just to get over Beomgyu. Yes, it was part of it, but you liked him too. You really thought this could work, and you really think it would have if Beomgyu wasn’t in the picture, and so you did everything in your power to take him out of it. You moved out from your apartment. You cut Beomgyu off. You dedicated yourself to Yeonjun. 

But how can you stop your heart from beating for Beomgyu? It’s entirely out of your control.  

"But you did anyway.” He says and you wince, one tear escaping your lashes and falling down the left side of your face. “Do you hate me?” 

“I could never hate you.” He sighs, and your lips tremble as you confess, “I wish you would. It might make me feel better.”

“Maybe you don’t deserve to feel better.” His words pierce your heart, and you know you deserve every ounce of pain it inflicts. 

“That’s fair.” 

You’re both silent for a long while–you trying to keep your tears under control, not wishing for him to see it as any intention to garner sympathy or guilt from him, and him sitting there quietly, his thoughts entirely hidden from you, but you know there is pain and anger in him. You can feel it radiating off of him. 

But eventually your tears dry out, and you gather enough courage to ask one last thing of him. “I know I have no right to ask this but can you not tell Beomgyu about us breaking up? I don’t want him to know yet. But don’t worry, I’ll gather my things and move out. You won’t have to live with me.”

"You're not done playing games?" He frowns and you shake your head. "I'm not. It’s just because you guys are working out that record deal and if anything goes wrong, I don’t want to risk ruining things for you.”

“Fine.” Yeonjun graciously accepts. “And you can stay. I’m not gonna kick you out into the street. I’m not that kinda guy.” 

____________________

Despite your love for Beomgyu, your break-up with Yeonjun wasn’t easy. You really liked him and had grown attached to him. And even though you still lived together, you hardly talked when it was just the two of you alone. You realize with time just how hurt he is by everything even though he tries his best to hide it from the others–not just because they think you’re still together, but because he has always refused to burden his younger members with his troubles, ever the selfless older brother. It’s one of the qualities you both admired and despised about him simultaneously. You wanted him to share his fears and worries, to lighten the load on his shoulders, and for a short while you were able to do that for him, but now that you’ve broken up, he’s left to carry all of it by himself again and with heartbreak to boot. 

You feel incredibly guilty about it, and you mourn for the love that could’ve blossomed between you had you not been so hung up about your best friend. The best friend you still haven’t talked to by the way. 

Yeonjun's words have not left your mind since the day he revealed everything to you. No moment passes by when you don't think about them. But you haven’t confronted Beomgyu about it yet because the record deal was still underway, and because you weren’t sure if Yeonjun is even right about it all. What if he’s wrong? 

Yeah, what? You'll ruin your friendship with Beomgyu? It's already in shambles anyway. Still, the rejection will be brutal. You've lived in the shadows for years. You're used to ignoring your feelings, that kind of pain is familiar to you now, but if you reveal them to Beomgyu and he shoots you down, you might not bear it. 

You'll tell him soon enough though, after the party tonight. The boys have finally reached an agreement with the record company and the contract has come through. They're officially signed to a label now and tonight’s party is a small celebration of that. 

You’ll do it after the party tonight. You’ll ask to talk to him after everyone leaves and you’ll confess everything. You're ready to come clean and end it all. Well, as ready as you can be. 

But as the party drags on, you get restless, and when you spot Beomgyu alone, refilling his drink, you can’t help but steal a little moment with him. 

“Congratulations, Beommie. I hear your song sealed the deal.” You smile widely, your lips buzzing with the desire to tell him what you really want to say–that you love him, that you’re proud of him, and that if his song is really about you then he needs to know that you’ve always been his. 

“Yeah. I’m not so useless after all.” Beomgyu’s reply is short and bitter. 

“What?” 

Yeonjun’s words ring in your ears. If I was in love with a girl and another guy gave her what I couldn't. I would be pretty bummed out too. Is this Beomgyu being insecure like Yeonjun said?

But before you can get him to clarify what he means, Haeun comes running over, incapable of leaving him alone for more than a minute. Can you really blame her? If you had him, you would never let him go either. 

“Baby, there you are! My star boy.” She throws her arms around him, pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that makes you want to vomit. 

You quickly retreat, not having missed the soft-core porn you used to witness while living with Beomgyu. Fucking Yeonjun, is this what he calls Beomgyu being in love with you? You don’t see him pushing her away or anything. He seems pretty happy with the kiss if his tongue in her mouth is any indication. 

"Foul." You mutter, swigging your cider, almost choking on it when a voice speaks up next to you. "That can't be good for the heart, huh?" 

You look at Yeonjun sheepishly, not sure if you can talk to him about this. After all, you did break up because of your love for the man currently getting his face sucked off by Haeun. So you just settle on mumbling out a weak yeah.

"Well, you know you could always fix it by confronting him about his undying love for you." He tells you and you can’t help but snort, annoyance overcoming your trepidation. "Yeah, right. He's so heartbroken, he's going to drown his sorrows in her pussy." 

“He’s just doing this because he thinks we’re still together. If he knows you’re free, I can guarantee you he’ll be dropping her so fast she won’t hit the ground before he’s on his knees for you.” 

“How can you be so confident?” You ask and he shrugs. “Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.” 

He walks away, leaving you to think over his words. Funny, that’s how you feel about the sight still playing out in front of you, the disgusting view getting burned into your retinas. 

Deciding you needed a break, you slip away from the living room, heading towards the bathroom to wash your face off. But on the way there, you pass by your old room, stopping when you see the door slightly cracked open. 

Your feet take you inside without you realizing it, compelled by curiosity to see what he’s done with the room in your absence. Has he turned it into a gaming room? Is he using it for storage? Is he letting her use it as her own? Oh, god, you really hope not. Anything but that. 

But you’re surprised when you step inside and find it mostly empty except for your old mattress and a few items you must’ve forgotten during your move. A T-shirt here, a sleeping mask there–they were all strewn around on your bed with the odd piece of clothing from Beomgyu himself in the mix. 

You step closer, examining the items when something in particular catches your eyes. A flash of pink under a pillow that makes you reach forward to pull it out, realizing just what it was once it’s in your hands–a pair of pink panties. Your pink panties that you’d been missing for a while. Why does Beomgyu have this? You thought he just used this because he was so pent up he needed any form of release but now Haeun is never off his dick so why does he still do this? 

Could Yeonjun have been right all along?  

As you continue to hold it in your hands, puzzling over it, you hear the door open and close behind you and Beomgyu’s panicky voice calling out your name. 

"What are you doing in here?" He squeaks as if this wasn’t your room. Well, your old room but still. It’s not like he made any changes to it yet. 

You turn to face him with the panties in your hands, silent, and his eyes grow wide as he stammers, trying to explain himself. “These are old.” 

“They’re wet.” You say plainly, which means he has just used them, and he knows it too. 

He scoffs, attempting to appear unaffected. As if this is just a completely reasonable situation that you’ve blown way out of proportion. “Well–it’s just–they were on hand.” He gives you what may possibly be the flimsiest excuse in history. 

Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

"Did you leave these out for me to see?" You question, and he rushes to deny. "No! I just forgot to put them away."

His eyes widen again at what he just said, basically admitting that he took them from you on purpose to do with them exactly what you had in mind. God, he's such a stupid loser. 

You walk towards him until you’re standing right in front of him, leaving him no room to breathe. “Make everyone leave.” 

“It’s our celebratory party, I can’t just–”

You grab his hand and put it under your skirt, pressing his fingers against your warm pussy. “And I want to give you your reward. Make them leave.” 

He looks at you, shocked, and suddenly you realize what you're asking of him. You're coming onto him after weeks of ignoring him. You're asking him to have sex with you when he has a girlfriend–when he thinks you have a boyfriend. Oh god. 

But then he gulps and says. "Okay."

You watch from behind the door as he stops the music and kicks everyone out, telling them that he doesn’t feel good and needs to rest, and when Kai complains loudly, he asks him if he’d like to stay back and hold his hair while he vomits. That quickly convinces everyone to take the party elsewhere, even his girlfriend. But one person knows better, and you see him peeking around Beomgyu to catch your hidden eyes. You share a look before he turns around and leaves the apartment. This is it. You’re going to do this. 

As soon as Beomgyu comes back, you pull him into a kiss, releasing your overflowing nerves with each frustrated and needy moan you let out against his lips. Fuck, you missed kissing him so much. His lips may not be as soft as Yeonjun’s–he may not be as good of a kisser–but god does he still make your heart sing. 

“Strip.” You order when you finally tear yourself away from him, though Beomgyu doesn’t make it easy, resisting you the first couple of times you try and pulling you right back into the hungry kiss. But you finally do, and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to follow your cue then. 

After he’s all stripped down, he looks at you, gaze speaking of his own need to devour you. “Will you strip too?” 

“Do you want it?” You ask, putting on an alluring voice but deep down you were just nervous about letting him see you fully for the first time. Even though your experience with Yeonjun has made you gain confidence, you’re still insecure, especially when it comes to Beomgyu. You want to impress him. You want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. You want him to forget about her. You want him to only think of you. 

Naturally, that is a lot to live up too. 

Beomgyu nods enthusiastically, somehow managing to come across as adorable in this situation. “Yes, please. Take it all off.” 

He tries to reach out to do it himself but you shake your head, pushing him onto the bed. 

“No. We do this my way.” You tell him, and he nods again, keeping himself in check. 

You reach for the zipper on your dress, hesitantly letting it fall to the floor. You aren’t wearing any bra so now you are almost nude except for your panties as you stand in front of him. 

“Fuck. You’re so hot.” He takes his cock into his hand, pumping it as he leers at you. You should feel dirty having him openly masturbate to the sight of you but it makes you feel so fucking good about yourself. It’s just what you needed–for him to show you how much he wants you. “Please, take off your panties too. Wanna see your pussy.” 

Despite his lewd display–or more accurately because of it–you’re given the courage to finally fully undress yourself in front of him, overcoming years of insecurities of what he’ll think of your body and any unfavorable comparisons he might make.

“Oh fuck–” He licks his lips, squeezing his cock as he stares at your pussy. “You’re perfect.”

“You think so?” You ask demurely, trying to hide your shock. Is he really telling the truth? It feels like it but you still need confirmation after years of doubting yourself.

“God, yes. Your tits are divine. I wanna suck on them and play with them all night. Your little pussy is so pretty, I wanna be buried in it forever. Come here, please, ride me, sit on my face, anything…” 

Is this what you were worried about all these years? He looks pretty fucking happy with what he’s seeing. Why were you so scared? You’re so mad at yourself for wasting all this time with self-doubt when you could’ve had him long ago. 

“You really need that?” You throw your panties at him, feeling more confident than ever after his proclamations. “Isn't this usually enough for you?” 

“No, please, you said you’d give me a reward." He whines, distraught at the thought of you being so close but not attainable yet again. "I’ve been good.” 

“Have you?” You scoff, straddling him, pressing your pussy against his cock and his body goes limp, letting you do what you want. “You’ve been nothing but a horndog, getting your rocks off wherever you can, whether it’s backstage getting sucked off by her or stealing my panties and fisting your cock with them. You’ve been such a bad boy.” 

“I’m sorry.” He slurs, mouth hanging open. 

"Are you? You seem to be enjoying this." 

"I'm sorry." He repeats again, staring at your pussy as it moves forwards and backwards over his cock, covering it in your slick. 

"You're fucking hopeless, Beomgyu. You'd do anything to get a piece of me, huh?"

"Yes." He nods eagerly, "Can you sit on my face?"

You laugh, climbing up his body until you’re hovering over his face and digging your fingers in his hair to keep his head down so he wouldn’t make any unwanted moves before you’re ready. "Is my pussy the only thing on your empty brain?"

"Uh-huh." He says dumbly, almost going cross eyes with the way he's staring at your pussy. You fucking love it. This is what you needed–to be needed. And Beomgyu gives it all to you without you even asking for it. 

"Good boy." You tell him and he shoots you a searing look at that–at you finally calling him that again–before you sit down on his face. 

You try not to put too much weight on him, not wanting to hurt him but Beomgyu has other ideas. He grabs your ass and pulls you down on his ready mouth, tongue flicking out to give eager licks to your already wet pussy. 

"Bad–bad boy–" You hiss, pulling at his hair but he won't let go, too intent on eating you out, nuzzling his whole lower face into your pussy, his tongue and lips alternating between long messy licks and needy sucking motions, his nose brushing against your clit every now and then in his fervor. 

"Fuck, Beomgyu slow down." 

But that word isn't in Beomgyu's dictionary, not when he's wanted this for so long. His fingers dig into your ass, making sure you can’t escape as his tongue presses inside your hole, flicking around as much as he can while your pussy flutters around it.

"So good–tastes so good." He slurs, drool and your juices covering his lower face but he doesn’t even care. In fact if anything it turns him on if his hard, leaking cock that you see when you throw a glance backwards is anything to go by. 

"You fucking the air, Beommie?" You pant, not faring much better than him but needing to tease him anyway. "Need my pussy this bad?"

But Beomgyu can't be teased. Not when he's so shameless. 

"Yes. Will you sit on my cock?" 

"How bad do you need it?" You sit up, pulling away from him and cutting off strings of your combined need. 

"So bad. Feels like I might die without it." 

"You sound like a horny fuckboy, Beommie. You know I only like good boys." You chastise, and Beomgyu shoots back, "Is that why you’re dating a whore?"

You growl, sinking back on his face, this time not caring so much about your weight over him. "Don't talk about Yeonjun like that."

He turns his face to the side to nip at your thigh in protest so you just straighten his head again and sit down on him fully, not allowing him any space to move. "You know the only whore here is you. So stick your tongue out like a good whore and let me ride it or I'll leave your dirty cock all red and weeping."

He whines in fear, sticking his tongue out for you, not daring to risk it. You move yourself over him, grinding your pussy over his tongue as he stares up at you pleadingly. 

“You like it, baby? You like me using you to get off?” 

He moans out in response, not having any other way to communicate his agreement and not willing to pull away from you. But you hear a wet noise coming from behind you and you look back to see him fisting his cock, clearly excited by it all. He wants this as much as you do. He has been begging for it for so long, and so you’re not so cruel as to make him take his hand away, but you need to make sure your excitement doesn’t end too soon. 

“Fuck, you really wanted this, huh? Can’t help yourself whenever you get a taste of this pussy?” You tease, and he whines again, his cock thrusting into his own fist pitifully. “But don’t get too excited. You want to feel this pussy around you, don’t you?”

The needy noises he keeps letting out vibrate against your pussy, driving you even wilder as you pull on his hair harshly and desperately grind yourself on his tongue, your high so close you could taste it. 

“Good boy, gonna make me cum… you want it? Want me to cum all of that pretty face?” You growl, and his hands leave his cock to grab your ass, pressing you so tightly against him, you worry that he won’t be able to breathe. 

But Beomgyu clearly loves it. He wants you to do it. He moves your hips so you’re fucking his face harder, faster, all while those slutty eyes of his never leave your face. 

“I’m cumming–fuck, Beommie… good boy–” You scream, shuddering as you cum over him. But as you stop moving, paralyzed by the intense orgasm, he starts moving his tongue, lapping up every drop you let out, giving your pussy open mouthed filthy kisses as he wraps his lips around you and eagerly sticks his tongue into your hole to get even more. 

You have to pull away from him when it becomes too much, and Beomgyu chases after you, not having had his fill yet somehow. He's still so needy that he ends up pushing you down and laying over you, his lips incessant against yours as his cock lays heavy on your pussy. 

You tug on his hair, finally detaching his lips from yours. "That's enough, Beomgyu."

“I made you cum.” He says in a daze, a stupid smile on his face. 

“Yes, you did.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb before sticking it in his mouth, letting him suck on it. It’s useless of course. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening with your cum. Not that you were actually trying to clean him up. You liked seeing him covered in you too much. “Ready for your reward, baby?” 

“Fuck, yes, please.” He groans, his hips bucking up against you, gliding his cock against your wet pussy. "Wanna fuck you so bad. Can I put it in now?"

"Are you gonna keep being a good boy for me? Gonna listen to my instructions and not let your cock take over your dumb brain and make you hump me like a dog?"

He shakes his head even though he was literally humping you right now. "I'll listen. I'll be so good."

"Okay, Beommie. You can put it in–slowly!" 

He rushes to push his cock inside your pussy, only stopping when it's all the way inside you. "Oh god–I'm finally inside you. Wanted it for so long."

This is exactly what you had been missing. This is what you needed that Yeonjun wasn't able to give to you. Beomgyu isn't shy when expressing how much he wants you. He'll beg and plead until you give it to him. 

"Can I move, baby?" He asks, voice strained with the effort of holding back. 

You nod. "Go ahead. But slowly."

He makes a valiant effort, pulling his hips back and thrusting in slowly, shuddering every time his cock is fully enveloped by your pussy. 

“Good?" You ask as if his mouth wasn't hung open, as if his eyes weren't all hazy, as if he wasn't holding onto you for dear life.

"So good. Can't believe I'm fucking you."

Neither can you. You had really begun to lose hope but here you are, laid on your back with Beomgyu fucking you, following your instruction as best he could–the strain of it obvious on his face. It's everything you wanted and you finally have it. 

"Can I touch your tits?" He pleads, giving you his classic puppy eyes and you smile. "Go ahead, honey." 

He groans, reaching out and cupping them in his hands. "Oh god. Missed them." He leans down and attaches his lips to them, biting and kissing all over them as his hips pick up speed. 

"Beomgyu…" You warn, pulling on his hair. He fights against you, looking up but not detaching from your tits. "Don't get ahead of yourself now. You want me to feel good too, don't you?"

He nods, his face still firmly buried in your lips but finally letting go of your nipple to moan out, "Yes, wanna make you feel better than anyone else." 

His own words rile him up and he bites down on the skin next to your areola, making sure not to hurt you but still expressing his frustration. 

"You're such a bratty baby." You scold him, but in reality you love it. You love how possessive and needy he is acting. It doesn't allow a single negative or insecure thought to enter your mind. How could it when he's so obvious about his need for you? "You can go faster now, baby."

"Oh, thank you." He groans, hips picking up speed. 

"Better, honey?" You pant, brushing his wet hair out of his face so you can fully see how lost he is in the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him. 

"So much better. Never wanna stop." He leans down, kissing you harshly, lips opening and closing around yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth hungrily. His hands grab at your thighs, pushing them against your body as he goes even faster, a constant stream of whines and whimpers released into your mouth. 

You force yourself to sober up despite the smoldering fire breaking out in your body from the way he's fucking you so good. You want him to keep going. You want him to keep fucking you until your mind has turned to mush and your limbs have turned to jelly. But you can’t let him have it this easily. You can't let him get away with the amount of pain and suffering he has caused you. He needs to feel it too, even if just a fraction of it. He needs to feel the longing and despair he has made you feel for so long. 

"Slow down." You order, pulling his head away from you, doing it extra mean just the way he likes it. 

"No, no, please." He cries, not slowing down. "Please… I thought this was a reward. You’re driving me crazy." 

"Do you want me to push you down and tie your hand to the headboard to make sure you behave?" You threaten, trying to keep your voice under control against the incessant thrusts of his cock into your poor pussy. "It's only gonna be worse for you."

"No. No. Wanna keep touching you." He blabbers, hands groping at every inch of you he could reach, worried you'd make good on your threats. 

"Then be good." You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls on your nipples before kneading the soft flesh.

"I will. I'm your good boy, right?" He slurs, his hips slowing down. 

Damn, he's really addicted to hearing you say that, huh?

"Yes, you are. You’re my best boy." You coo, stroking his soft hair and he nuzzles into your hand like a puppy, seeking any form of contact with you. 

"Thank you." He groans, fingers digging into your skin as he tries to hold himself back, his poor cock screaming at him to just take you like he wants. "So pretty. Look so pretty getting fucked." 

"Yeah? Is it how you imagined it when you'd fuck my panties?" You ask but once again Beomgyu has no shame, his hips faltering at the reminder of his debauched actions. 

"Better. So pretty. So tight. Could stay in your cunt forever." He almost drools at the thought, and you really believe he'd love to do just that. 

"Dirty boy. Dirty little boy going all dumb for me." You stroke his face lovingly and he peers at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, please, hurts… can I go faster?"

"Aw, poor pup, do you need to hammer your cock into my pussy that bad?" You scold, giving his face light slaps. 

"Uh-huh… will make you feel good. I promise." He babbles, his hips already going faster as if he's sure you'll give him permission. 

"No." This may or may not be the one and only time you get to fuck him. You need to savor it. "Slow down."

Your hands go to his hips, clawing at his skin to slow down his thrusts and he relents, albeit begrudgingly. "You're so mean."

"But you love it." You laugh at his tearful pout. "God, you love it so much you can't stop shaking your hips like a whore. It's like you've never been fucked before.” 

"I haven't. You’re my first.” He admits, knocking any remaining breath out of your lungs.

This is his first time. He and Haeun never did it? What the fuck?

"Did you let him fuck you?" He asks, and you stay silent. He knows you’ve fucked Yeonjun. There is no way he thinks you live with Yeonjun and aren’t fucking him. But then again, he hasn’t fucked Haeun, and you were so sure that he did. 

"Did you?" He asks again, an edge to his voice and you nod minutely. "I didn't know. I thought you and Haeun–"

Beomgyu's whole face changes. "God, you're such a slut. Fucking two men at the same time."

You immediately get defensive. Yeonjun was your boyfriend. You had dated for months. You’re not a whore for fucking him. It would be more understandable if he’s referring to the fact (or what he thinks is a fact) of you fucking him when you have a boyfriend, but you’re almost certain that’s not what he’s upset about. He’s just jealous you’ve fucked Yeonjun at all.  "Just because she won't let you put it in, doesn't make me a slut."

That just angers him more, and he practically bends you in half as his dick pumps in and out of you at a brutal pace, his anger at what you’ve done making him lose it, not caring about your instructions anymore. "I hate you."

You laugh, fighting hard to hide the pain his statement elicits in your gut as well as to keep your voice steady as he practically plows his cock into you. God, he makes you so mad but he’s fucking you so good. 

"But you sure love my pussy." 

"My pussy." He growls, catching you off guard once again. He bends his head down to kiss your neck harshly, and can already feel the marks blooming there under his teeth. "Mine. Not his. All mine."

"What?” You sputter. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? “Beomgyu, what–”

"Shut up." He smacks your ass, not willing to hear your protests right now. "You've played with me long enough. Now be good and take it." 

Played with him? What the hell is he talking about? You’ve never played with him. But any attempt to get a sane answer out of him right now is useless as the sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room and Beomgyu latches his mouth onto yours, trying to dominate you in a way he has never attempted to do before–as if he’s trying to prove that you really are his. 

And you are. He may not know it but you’ve always been his.

But his strong facade is paper-thin and you can see right through it to the insecure boy below when he pulls back to look at you. “Fuck, why did you have to be so pretty?”

“Make me cum, Beommie.” You murmur, moving a hand between your bodies to rest over your pussy, your middle and index fingers on either side of his cock as it fucks into you. “Do you feel how wet I am for you? I’m soaking the bed, baby.” 

“Fuck…” He pulls your hand away, taking a look at how wet it has become already before he grunts and pushes one of your thighs against the bed to allow space for his own hand between your bodies, quickly finding your pussy to rub your clit. 

“Oh… oh, fuck… baby…” You gasp, back arching as you’re quickly hurled towards your orgasm. “That’s it, honey. Make me cum on your big cock.” 

He groans, his hips stuttering as your pussy begins to clench around him. “Don’t talk like that. Gonna make me lose it.” 

“It riles you up when I talk dirty to you? Tell you how good you're fucking me?”

He nods. 

“Dirty boy.” You moan out for him, “Do it. Empty that cock inside me. Want my pussy dripping with you.” 

“Holy s-shit,” Beomgyu cries, and you feel his cum shooting inside of you, his hips not stopping for a second. And though his thrusts become erratic, his thumb keeps up its assault on your clit until your pussy is clamping down on his cock and milking the last drops of cum from him. “Good girl. My good girl.” 

He fucks you through your orgasm, babbling on about how pretty you are and how well you took it. He looks so fucking pathetic with his shiny eyes and needy whimpers that before you even know it, he’s ripping another orgasm out of your already fucked out body. 

“Goddammit, Beomgyu…” You squeal, toes curling at the very intense second orgasm, your body shuddering with the unexpected sharp waves of pleasure racking through it. And through it all, Beomgyu continues fucking you. You can feel his cock begin to harden once again inside you, and as the brutal second orgasm leaves your body, you wince at the overstimulation, putting your hands against his sweaty chest and starting to push him away.  

“That’s enough, Beomgyu. I can’t take any more.” 

But he resists you, shaking his head. “One more. Please, one more.” 

“No.” You tell him firmly, “Don’t be bad. Pull out.” 

He searches your face for any hint of leniency, his big pretty eyes trying to convince you to change your mind but you can’t. He’s fucked you so hard, your poor pussy requires a much needed rest. 

You both watch as he slowly pulls out, his once again hard cock glistening with your cum and his, his seed dripping down your ass now that he wasn’t plugging your pussy up. 

“Oh, baby, does that hurt?” You coo, grabbing his cock. He lets out a sigh of relief as you begin stroking it. “Yeah. So bad.” 

The little shit is milking this, but you play along. “Poor baby. Let me make it go away.” You grin, suddenly speeding up, the slide of your hand so easy when his cock is well-lubricated. You make sure to maintain your position, with him hovering over your splayed open body so he can rake his eyes over it, and you clearly seeing him struggling to choose where to look between your tits that jiggle as you jerk him off quickly, the cum leaking out of your puffy pussy, and your swollen lips as you swipe your tongue over them. 

It doesn’t take long for you to have him spilling his seed again, landing on your tummy as he doubles over and buries his head in your neck. 

“That’s it, good boy.” You praise him, using your free hand to stroke his long hair that you love so much. 

You let him lay there for a whole, catching his breath that is so irregular and stuttered that you almost don’t notice when he starts crying if it wasn’t for the hot tears falling on your skin. 

“Beomgyu?” You call out, and a heart-breaking sob breaks out of his chest. 

"Please, come back to me." He croaks against your neck. 

"What?" You sit up, making him sit up with you and pulling his face away from your shoulder so you can look at him, your heart sinking at the tears streaming down his face. "I can't fucking bear seeing you with him any longer. It hurts so much."

Oh fuck. 

"Beomgyu… Yeonjun isn't–" You try to explain that you and Yeonjun had broken up but he cuts you off. 

"It's not him, it's you!" He shouts, "I love you and I can't bear it any longer. And I know it's selfish and that you don't love me back, at least not in that way, but then you keep messing with me."

He loves you? He really loves you?

"But I thought you loved Haeun?" You need to know what exactly is happening with him and Haeun first. 

"I thought I did too but whenever I'm with her, I find myself thinking of you. You’re always in my head, it ruins every moment I have with her. She hates you too, you know? She can't stand how much I love you. The reason we haven't fucked is not because she won't put out. It's because I only want you. I didn't want to lose it to anyone else but you."

"Beomgyu–"

"But you don’t fucking care. You just see me as your disgusting best friend who you can play with and push away when you're done with him and I can't even bring myself to hate you for it. That's how much I love you. So just please… please give me a break."

“You think I was playing with you?” The idea seems absurd to you. How can he possibly think that? You've done everything in your power to not show how much you love him but never in your wildest dreams would you think that would mean he would see it as you playing with him. 

“Weren’t you? I mean the way you spoke to me… you always pushed me away. I had to beg each time for you to even kiss me.” He peers at you, pain and vulnerability shining in his eyes as he recalls the way you treated him. 

Fuck, you've been so obsessed with not letting your love for him show that you've done the same thing to him you thought he was doing to you. Knowing that pain all too well, you can’t bear the thought of being the cause of it.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, intending to pour out your own feelings the same way he did, hoping to staunch the flood of heartbreak you’re witnessing and calm him down enough for him to realize you feel the same way. 

But his reaction wasn't what you expected. He breaks down crying. "You're so cruel."

"No, no! I love you too!" Your hands are in a flurry around his face, wiping his tears, stroking his hair, caressing his cheeks, anything to calm him down.

"What? This is not funny." He sobs, looking like a wounded animal. Your heart aches at the sight. 

"No, fuck, I've loved you for years! The whole friends with benefits thing I started was just an excuse to have a way to be with you."

He stares at you in utter shock, the confusion the only thing stopping his tears from drowning you. "But you never even hinted that you liked me. You called me all kinds of names, freak, disgusting, pervert…"

"I thought you liked these..." You trail off sheepishly. 

"I did but it still makes a guy think.” He mumbles, his fingers playing with yours nervously. “You wouldn’t let me touch you or kiss you." 

"I was afraid if I let you kiss me, I wouldn't want you to stop. And I didn’t want you to touch me because I was afraid you wouldn’t like what you saw." It sounds so silly now that you're saying it out loud–now that you know he loves you and has wanted you just as badly.  

"That's stupid. I had already seen it all." He tells you casually and you frown. "When?"

"You don't always shut the door when you're changing." He shrugs. 

"Pervert!" You gasp, hitting him with no real power behind it. "What about you? You never hinted at anything either.  You only ever talked about my body."

"Well, it did start just physical but I quickly realized that I'm in love with you. Then I kept only mentioning your body because you'd freak out on me whenever I hinted at anything else."

"Fair." You pout, realizing you’ve done as much to hurt yourself as he did. 

"I didn't want to let it show that I loved you because I was so afraid you'd pull away like you did a couple of times. And then you were with Yeonjun and it fucking killed me so I had to pretend it was just sexual."

"Oh god, that's exactly what I've been doing.” You cover your face with your hands, mortified at your stupidity. We're fucking dumbasses."

“Yes, we are.” He replies fondly, taking your hands away from your face so you can look at him, refusing to let you hide anymore. "So you'll break up with him and be with me?"

"We broke up a while back.” You admit sheepishly. “He said he can't be with me when you and I are clearly in love with each other."

“So let me get this straight, Yeonjun could tell we love each other but somehow we, the two people involved, didn’t have a clue?” He raises an eyebrow at you and you nod. “I think it’s safe to say we won’t be winning any genius awards anytime soon.” 

“We could win the biggest dumbasses award though.” He cracks a smile, pulling you close to him and resting his forehead against yours. 

“No one could even compete.” You grin, kissing him. He immediately deepens the kiss, frantic and hungry still. 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Beommie. We have all the time in the world.” You tease as if you weren’t just as needy, making him whine. “I can’t help it. You made me yearn for so long.”

“Yearn? Oh, that’s bad. I made you use the word yearn.” 

He yanks your legs up, sending the rest of your body flying backwards and hitting the mattress, your loud giggles quickly covered by his mouth as he kisses you harshly, his teeth biting down on your lips in annoyance when you still don’t stop laughing. 

“Stop it.” He whines in defeat as he pulls back, and you try to keep your giggles under control, his pout is entirely too devastating to look at. 

"Are you gonna break up with her?" You ask and he doesn't hesitate to say, "Of course."

That makes you smile, happy with how easily he chose you, but then a thought pops into your mind and you frown. "You know, I hated her but I still feel kinda bad for fucking you behind her back." You really do. You've never condoned cheating, even if it was on someone as vile as Haeun. 

"Oh you mean the same way she fucked the whole football team?" He counters and you gape at him, "God damn. Why did you even stay with her for that long?"

He shrugs. "Needed a distraction. And to not come across as a loser in front of you. I mean you were with Yeonjun. I couldn't just be alone."

"Oh, honey…" You coo, but anything you planned to say is suddenly forgotten as you feel his cock pressing against your entrance. 

"Beommie!" You squeak. “What are you doing?” 

"You thought we were done? You spread your legs for my bandmate. I'm gonna have to look at him every day knowing he had you first. I gotta make sure you and everyone else knows who exactly you belong to."

It may not be the most healthy coping mechanism, but you’ll let him have it for now. You’re sure you wouldn't be very happy if you were in his position either. Besides, getting to fuck Beomgyu isn’t exactly what you would consider a punishment. 

_________

A/N: Click here for the Yeonjun ending on Patreon.

Also for my patreons, you could suggest a scene from gyu's pov and I'll choose one. There will also most likely be some drabbles about oc and gyu's life after the ending (mostly smut featuring our favorite desperate boy lol) and some will be released on tumblr and others will be exclusive to patreon.

Patreons may also suggest a continuation of a previous fic/drabble. I will do my best to release at least something monthly on there.

Taglist: @blxxsss@sanasour@tinkw1nks@lol6sposts@zuzuhasablog@beomsl@seolis-world@stantxtorurmissingout@wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno@leviathanlee26@yomomas-stuff@kurisaiyunobara@girlwholovekpop@zuzuhasablog@viaaasdiary@ho3forkpop@skzvcr@th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @izzyexe @boomfrogg @kpop-cakepops-recs @chronicallygyu @girlwholovekpop

[kagscore]

𝜗𝜚 playing games with the boys

feat. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin note. this is self indulgent because i wanna play league with nagi i fear ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i hope you enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing rocket league with 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 looks like . . .

the two of you sitting in his bedroom, you curled up in his lap as you hold the controller. he holds your hands with his, moving the controller and pressing the buttons for you so you can get a grasp of the movements you need to know. slowly but surely, he lets you take full control and quietly cheers for you as you score goals and block them in his favorite game—car soccer. he's almost brimming with excitement at the idea of teaching you all sorts of tricks—flip resets, [insert other terminology]—anything so that eventually the two of you can play duos together and dominate the game. shows you how to decorate your car, the types of cars you can get and laughing when you ask if you could just drive a vw beetle instead. gets himself a second remote to play on his xbox when he thinks you’re finally starting to get the game and trying to cheer you up when you lose your first game duo’d together.

“you sure you wanna keep playing? i know it isn’t the easiest thing in the world…” “i think it’s so cute you wanna get good at this game baby, of course we can play when you come over again.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing league of legends with 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 looks like . . .

nagi absolutely tossing you in headfirst into aram, knowing that you won’t get kills or assists and will die a lot but absolutely sweating his balls off so that he can still carry you to a win. you ask a lot of questions about who you’re playing, who you’re playing against, your abilities and ultimates and just generally what to do and him answering every single question you ask with patience and a soft explanation. sometimes you do questionable things in game, but he just laughs and says it’s okay. congratulates when you finally figure out who you want to main, celebrates when you get your first kill, and even buys you that skin you want as a gift for taking the time to play a game with him and spend time with him. always rerolls his character in aram, trying to find someone you like and getting a bit teary eyed when you recognize his favorite character to play once.

“it’s your favorite character, babe, swap me for them.” “i know you’re new, but please stop dying to tower. i’ll even take us out for dinner, i’m begging.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing valorant with 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍 looks like . . .

rin trying his hardest every game you play together to be the top frag to impress you subtly, and him avenging you every time you die because how could he let his person die without killing the person that killed you? drops you his gun skins and even switches them when you guys wait in queue to skins you prefer—if he doesn’t have the skin you like, he always gives it to you when he finds and kills the person with it in a game. goes into deathmatches to one v. one you to try and help you learn the mechanics of the game and the shooting. if anyone is rude to you in a game, he’s immediately cursing and hexing their family and generational lineage in his head/in chat. he doesn’t like talking in game, but will if it means defending you against everyone else being mean because you’re bottom fragging. buys you your first skin after you get your first kill and periodically logging into your account to buy you more and surprise you sometimes.

“you should try a duelist if you want to get more kills, my love.” “now we just need to get you an ace, and we can do something special.”

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part V

Part V is finally out!! I enjoyed writing this one a lot! I still have some more chapters in mind, especially for the big reveal. Not sure how many I can write out, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon.  Sorry it’s a bit short this time! The next part is going to be longer. As usual, heed the tags

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

word count: 1836

“Don’t you know the trope of never having sex in horror films?” The other line asked you, making you laugh, “you didn’t kill me the first time, why would it be any different now?” You asked as you sat out on your front porch, taking a seat on the bench outside. “What if someone else made you star in their movie, huh? Wouldn’t you be part of their film instead,” they said as you laughed, “yeah, but then it could be some big cross over. Like alien versus predator or king kong and Godzilla, I would kinda like to see that, my two boys fighting for protecting me.” You teased as they chuckled. 

“I heard you wanted both of us there tonight,” they hummed, making you smile, “so you’re the one who makes the calls?” you asked before continuing, “I want you both here…alongside a new lingerie outfit too, you boys are really racking up a total. You two should take me shopping sometime.” You suggested playfully, wishing that you could go out in public with the two. “Maybe someday,” they said, sounding a little more somber now. “Will you two ever let me know who you are?” You asked, it had been on your mind lately, but the silence gave you your answer. “I guess you still can’t trust me, huh? It’s fine, I’ll find a way to prove it to you two.” You said, hearing another phone call coming in. “I have to let you go now, one of my friends is calling, I’ll see you two tonight, right?” You questioned, “we’ll be a little later tonight but don’t worry, we’ll be there.” They promised you before hanging up. Y

ou smiled, answering the new call coming in. “Hey! Me and Stu were gonna head out for lunch soon, did you wanna join? Sid’s gonna call Billy to see if he wanted to go,” Tatum’s voice said, you debated for a moment before agreeing. “Great! Me and Stu will pick you up, we can pick up Randy too afterwards,” she said as you hummed. “Sounds good, I’ll get ready now,” You said, hanging up after saying goodbye. Your eyes lingered out into the street, you couldn’t help but feel as if there was someone watching you, wondering if your secret stalker was watching over you right now. Part of you wished they’d just come out and reveal themselves to you, pull off their mask and show you their faces. You let out a sigh, getting up from the bench and heading back inside the house to get ready.By the time Stu’s car pulled up to your driveway you were ready, hair and outfit finished along with just the right amount of makeup for you. 

You could hear the music playing from outside, wondering at which point in time Stu would finally lose his hearing, you gave him another 10 good years. You texted your parents that you were going out with your group again, promising them to be home before curfew. Curfew had bummed you out recently, you made a mental note to tell your masked killers that you were mad at them for making Woodsboro go under a curfew, everything sucked now that nothing was open past 6. “Hey Macher, calm it with the stereo,” you said as Stu chuckled, “can’t help it, I like making my presence known,” he said as he turned up the music louder. You rolled your eyes, chatting with Tatum as you all headed to pick up the others. 

Sid and Billy met you at the restaurant, already sitting down at a booth when you all arrived. It was about an hour later, everyone finished with their food and just spending time chatting about whatever came up. “Did you guys hear about Oliver?” Randy asked as Tatum nodded, “Dewey said it was even worse than Casey and Steve, said you couldn’t recognize him at all,” she added in as your eyebrows furrowed. “Sid said the neighbors tried getting the killer, did Dewey say anything about that?” You questioned as Tatum shook her head, “no, he said the neighbor tried to shoot at them but they missed. Said they took off into the woods,” she said, you growing worried if they had been hurt. They didn’t mention anything on the phone so you assumed they weren’t, making you relax a bit. “Maybe it was your mystery date,” Randy teased, making you glare at him, “I mean we were talking about him yesterday, maybe your boyfriend got mad about him and decided to off him as some romantic present,” he added as you laughed. “Right, cause I totally want to be an accomplice,” you joked as you rolled your eyes, but you did wonder if that was true.

 Oliver had bullied others as well, so you didn’t put it past them to have also been one of his victims. Though, the thought that they did it for you made your heart beat faster. “I think you cracked the code Meeks,” Billy teased, noticing your reddening cheeks, “are you all forgetting she was almost killed by them?” Sidney brought up as Stu hummed, “well she is still alive, maybe Randy was right with them doing it to cover up their tracks,” he said as you scoffed. “Can you jackasses back off before I take my turn at you?” You said jokingly, waving the butterknife on your plate around playfully. 

Later that night you sat in bed, rewatching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre on your laptop with Irena purring and fast asleep on your lap. You snacked on some popcorn as you watched the movie, looking to your side as you saw Tatum calling you. You hit pause on the movie and answered as you ate another piece of popcorn, “whats up, Tate?” You asked as she quickly spoke, “holy shit! They almost got the killer!” she yelled into the phone, making you sit up. “What?” You questioned as she laughed. “The killer! They were going after some of Oliver’s friends. They were having a celebration for him and one of the guys actually fucking stabbed them! Dewey said they were chasing them down but lost them a few moments ago, they said the police are gonna be waiting at the hospital incase anyone comes in with a stab wound,” she said, you carefully moved Irena off your lap and set your laptop on your vanity as you looked out your window. You could see the black outfit moving and struggling to climb up, “shit, that’s awesome Tate, let me know if Dewey calls you again, I’m gonna go tell my parents,” You spoke, hanging up the phone and putting it down as you pushed your window open. 

“Seriously? Going after the whole fucking football team?” You asked angrily, putting your hand out to help them inside. You shut the window after they got in, seeing them collapse onto the floor. “Shit, hold on,” You said as you rushed to your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit and rushing back to their side. You were about to lift up the robe before they grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away. You felt a little hurt that they still didn’t trust you, but pointed in the direction of the restroom. “You can patch yourself up in there, my friend said the police are going to be at the hospital, you can’t go,” you said, seeing the flashing of police lights pass by outside. “Is the other one okay?” You questioned them, getting a nod as they hubbled to the bathroom. After half an hour they emerged from the bathroom, taking a seat on your desk chair. “Are you okay? Did the bleeding stop?” You fretted over them, getting a nod as they motioned you over. They grabbed your wrist, holding your hand up to their chest so you could feel their steady heartbeat. You relaxed before pushing on their chest, huffing at them. “The whole fucking football team, you’re actually fucking crazy,” you huffed out before gently rubbing where you had pushed them. “The other one, he got away okay?” You asked, smiling when you got another nod. “You can stay as long as you need tonight, the police are probably out searching for you,” you said, sighing softly as you looked to them. “Don’t think I forgot about that lingerie set either, it was pretty expensive,” you said jokingly, earning a laugh from behind their mask. “I’m gonna head to bed, I have an exam tomorrow,” you said, giving a little kiss to their mask. “If you wanna join at least take off your clothes, I won’t look, I promise. You can even blindfold me if you don’t trust me,” you offered, heading to bed. They followed after you, you laid down and closed your eyes, facing them so they could see that you weren’t looking. They began to shuffle out of the costume, going to your door and locking it before heading back to your bed. They laid down behind you, wrapping their arms around you and holding you close.

You fell asleep easily in their hold, relaxing in their arms throughout the night. A few hours later you woke up to muffled voices in the bathroom, you sat up and rubbed your eyes as you looked to see the morning sunlight lighting up your room. “I’m fine, just spent the night at her place,” you heard coming from the bathroom, your groggy mind a bit too slow to recognize they weren’t using the voice changer. You did your best to not pay attention, not wanting to betray their trust by finding out who they were too soon. You laid down again, closing your eyes when you heard the door open. You felt their hand tracing your face before they planted little kisses on your cheeks before planting a soft and loving one to your lips. They pulled away and pulled the mask on before tapping you, you pretended to stir awake, blinking up at them. “You’re leaving?” You asked as they nodded, “be safe, okay? I would rather prefer finding out who you are when you trust me and not through some Gale Weathers interview,” you said as you leaned up, planting a little kiss on their mask just like last night. “Be safe, both of you,” you said as they nodded and began to climb out your window. 

An hour later Tatum came to pick you up in her little red beetle, driving both of you to class. You met up with Sid and Stu, who had his arm wrapped around Tatum. “Where’s Billy at today?” Tatum asked as Sid sighed, “said he came down with a major stomach bug. He said he was sick all night and didn’t even sleep, his dad told him to head to the doctor instead of class,” she said as you turned towards Sidney. Stu became aware of your glance at her, his eyes widening in surprise when you made eye contact with him. 

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 3) - toji f. x reader

masterlist

part two | part four

previously titled: leave us

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, cheating, underage (mentions they have sex, but nothing explict, toji and reader are high school freshmen), mentioned eating disorder (not really a disorder, reader just forgets to eat, tag is just in case), mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 3.4k

You had met Toji in your first year of high school at some house party. Some sophomore that Utahime knew was throwing it, giving the two of you an in. 

You and Utahime had been dancing on the dude’s couch, bottles in hand. You had never really drank before, but you made sure to keep yourself aware enough to get the two of you home by the end of the night. Your house was a fifteen minute walk from here, and your plan was to sneak the two of you through your window before three. 

That’s when you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to some girl. Just by his looks, you thought he might have been a couple years above you. He was tall, taller than most guys in the house, and definitely more muscular. You were immediately attracted, Utahime giggled at you once she saw where you were looking. “You should go talk to him!” She slurred, still moving to the sound of the music with you. 

“Seems like he’s got his hands busy.” You whisper-yelled over the music. He had them all over that girl.

“Utahime!” You heard from below the two of you. Hakari, the guy whose house this was (and your future coworker), held on to her hand as she almost stumbled over to look down at him. “We’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven! Y’all wanna come?” 

“That’s fucking corny!” Utahime giggled, “Let’s go, Y/N!” The two of you followed in a straight line behind Hakari to a relatively empty, but still extremely loud hallway. You all sat down in a circle with a group of students you didn’t recognize. 

“Hey, you guys weren’t gonna start the fun without us, right?” You hear from behind you. It’s the guy from earlier. He pushes his hair (you think it's black, but can’t tell from the lighting) back and takes a swig of a beer bottle. The girl from earlier is with him, along with another guy you didn’t recognize. 

“Toji, let us use that bottle. Hakari broke the other one!” One guy yells over the music. “Thought this was seven minutes in heaven,” A girl with stark white hair begins, “You don’t need a bottle for that game.” 

“Too much work to write everyone’s names down, there’s a bunch of freshmen here. I don’t know them.” Hakari responds. 

“Scoot over!” The tall guy, Toji, yells at you over the music, and you do. Allowing his group of three to squeeze in next to you. Utahime giggles and leans over your lap to address him. “Hey!” She yells, almost falling over your lap. “What’s your name? My friend Y/N-”

“I’ll go first!” you yell, hoping to silence her before she can say anything embarrassing.

“Wheeeew look at the brave young freshman!” Hakari yells. “Hey, what’s your name again?” You ignore him and spin the bottle. 'Damn,' you think, 'I’m actually going to have to go into a closet with someone after this.' You just wanted to interrupt Utahime. 

It lands on some guy you don't recognize.

“Wee woo wee woo!” Hakari yells, mocking a police siren. “New rule, freshman and senior pairings will not be allowed! Go again!” he yells at you. The group bursts out laughing as you grab the bottle to spin again. 

The bottle spins and spins until it lands on… the girl that Toji was making out with earlier. She makes a face and looks at you. “I’m not into girls, sorry!” She yells. 

“I am!” Utahime announces to the group. 

“What the hell, Takako, you have such a dirty mind!” Hakari says. You can feel Toji eyeing you. It’s slightly unsettling. “Seven minutes in heaven does not imply romantic or sexual advances!” 

She scoffs, “Then why didn’t you let her go in there with Kenjaku?” You’re doing everything you can to avoid Toji’s gaze. Seriously, what was this dude’s problem? Was there something on your face? Did your makeup come off to reveal the big ass pimple on your cheek? Shit, you knew you should’ve used more setting spray.

“Because it’s my duty to protect the young women attending my party, Takako! Better safe than sorry.” 

Suddenly, you see a hand go down to the bottle and tilt it slightly. It’s Toji, and he’s pointed the bottle directly at himself. “Well, would you look at that! Seems like the bottle has mysteriously landed on me and not Takako!” He yells over the music. 

You take this time to finally look him in the face. From this close, you notice the scar on the side of his lip, his piercing green eyes. 

“But…” you say, confused, “they said no seniors and freshmen.” 

The group bursts into laughter. “Don’t know if I should be offended or not.” He says. 

“He’s in our year, Y/N!” Utahime exclaims, “He’s in my algebra class, I couldn’t remember his name though…” 

“Wait, this isn’t how it works!” Takako says, panicked. Now that you’ve already looked at Toji, you can see her arm locked into his, she’s yelling into the group’s circle. 

“The bottle lands where it lands!” Toji says, throwing his arms up. “Come on, mama,” he starts, untangling from Takako. “We got seven minutes.”

He grabs your arm and leads you to the hall closet. You can hear whoops and whistles from behind you, but you don’t know if it’s from your small group or from the rest of the party goers. 

He turns the light on, and the two of you push back winter coats to make room in the closet. He closes the door behind the two of you. For a moment he’s quiet. He just looks at you. “You’re really pretty.” He says, leaning against the door, a little too cockily for a high school freshman. 

“Thanks.” You say quietly. It’s a little less loud in the closet, music muffled by the bundle of winter coats. “Is um.. Is Takako your girlfriend or something?”

He laughs, “Why do you ask?” 

“Because it’s pretty fucked up if you took me in here with her sitting right out there.” 

He smiles. “Nah.” He says, leaning closer to you. “She’s not.” 

You can feel his breath on your face, and smell his cologne from here. It’s a little strong, you can smell the beer in his breath too. “She’s into you though,” you say. He leans closer and you put your hand gently on his chest. Your lips are millimeters apart. “That was kinda mean,” He laughs again. “To be really, really honest, I don’t give a fuck about her.” 

“That's really mean.” You respond, and suddenly your lips are on each other. This isn’t your first kiss, but Toji makes it feel like it is. You two grasp onto each other desperately, hold onto each other like you’ve known each other for years, like he’s a long lost love. 

It doesn’t escalate from there, you two just kiss and kiss and kiss. 

You don’t notice how long it’s been until you hear a knock on the door. Toji pulls away from your face and rests his forehead on yours. “Damn.” He says, licking his lips. 

That night, Toji had offered to drive you and Utahime home. You had spent the last couple hours at the party together, you continued drinking while Toji refrained, wanting to drive you home. 

He had helped you sneak Utahime into your bedroom. In your time spent with Toji, you hadn’t noticed her drinking more and more, so by the time you got her into Toji’s car, she was passed out cold. 

You had held Utahime in your arms as Toji climbed into your window and pulled her through. You climbed in after. 

“Thank you so much.” You said to him as the two of you lay her in your bed. “You’re seriously a life saver.” 

“It’s no problem, anything for a pretty lady like you.” You rolled your eyes. 

He climbed back out your window, turning around to face you one more time before you left. You lent onto your window sill and smiled at him. “I’ll see you on Monday?” you asked. He smiled back. “I’ll see you then.” He lent up and kissed you on the lips once more before turning back around and walking to his truck. 

You did see him on Monday. And almost every Monday after. 

You and Toji became incredibly close incredibly fast. Toji clung to you for affection, you clung to him for attention. You sat together at lunch everyday. He’d buy you Cokes from the overpriced vending machine and you’d invite him into your bedroom everytime it got to be too much at home. You guys never officially started dating, it just seemed like it happened overnight. 

He never came over during the day. You were too nervous to tell your mother and he was too nervous to meet her. 

She didn’t know you even had a boyfriend until Toji cheated on you. Not the best introduction. You were working late at the diner, you often did on weekends to speed up the process of your college fund. It was Shoko who had told you. 

She, Geto, and Gojo had come to the diner after leaving a party. They were all clearly a little tipsy, so one of the older servers had passed them off onto you. “I’m not dealing with definitely-not-drunk teenagers at this time of night. I’m ready to go home.” 

“Oh my god! I know you! You’re Y/N! We’re in the same government class!” Geto slurred. You smiled at him. “How are you guys doing? You go to Hakari’s party?” You asked.

“Yeah! It was really fun, but Gojo’s curfew is at one so we gotta get him sobered up.” Geto supplied.

“Hey, Y/N, are you still with Toji? I see you too together alllllll the time at school.” Gojo slurred. You laughed. “Kind of.” You and Toji had gotten into an argument that afternoon. Toji was going to that same party, and you, having to work, couldn’t go with. Somehow, it turned into an argument about who does more for who. You weren’t broken up, and you weren’t on a break, but you were both certainly angry with each other. 

“Ohhhh what the fuck?” Gojo said, looking wide-eyed at his friends. They all looked between each other, clearly confused and talking to each other through their facial expressions. 

“Uhh, Y/N, can you just get us some waters, and can you get Gojo like an omelet or some shit?” Shoko says. “Uhh yeah! Of course!” 

“No mushrooms!” Gojo shouts as you walk away. You turn and give him a thumbs up. 

That whole night, you could feel the tension from the table. Like they all felt bad for you. Like they pitied you. After they paid the bill and Geto and Gojo walked out, Shoko called you over. “Hey, Y/N, you almost done working?” She asked. 

“Yeah, you guys were my last table for tonight. What’s up?” 

“Look,” she says, “I don’t know what’s up with you and Toji, it’s not my business, but I think you should probably know he and Takako were all over each other at Hakari’s tonight.” She looked into your eyes to gauge a reaction. 

Your heart had dropped. You could feel your fingertips tingling like you had lost all the blood in them. They felt lighter than the rest of your body. “Oh, uh, yeah it's not a big deal.” You say. You start to wring your hands on your waist apron. “Thanks for letting me know, though.” You attempt a smile at her. She looks at you with pity and concern, until you can almost visibly see her say ‘fuck it’ in her head. She leans in and gives you a hug. 

You vowed it not to be true, but Shoko had no reason to lie to you. Gojo and Geto had no reason to act so strange when you mentioned you’re still with Toji. Shoko bringing up Takako was not a coincidence. 

You squeeze her back and you can feel your breathing picking up. “T-Thank, um, Thank you.” you say. 

You didn’t call him when your shift was over for him to pick you up as usual, instead opting to take the bus route. You got home that night, thankful to see that your mother had already gone to sleep. You ignored the food she left for you in the fridge and went straight to the shower.

You didn’t cry until you got into bed, when you could smell his cologne on your pillow. You stayed like that for hours. Curled up, silently sobbing, until you heard a light knocking on your window. You knew who it was. The only person it could be, 

“Y/N?” He whispered through the window. He sounded panicked. You could hear the pane slide up and him climb in. 

“Oh, shit, thank god.” He whispered, climbing into your bed. His voice was shaking. “Hey, you awake, mama?”

You turned around to face him. “You had me scared, baby.” He said, moving your hair out of your face. “You never called after your shift. Just ‘cause you’re mad at me doesn’t mean I won’t come get you.”

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Huh?” 

“You. Fucked. Her. Didn’t. You?” 

His hand froze on your cheek. 

You sat up in your bed. “You fucked her, and then you wanted to come and see me after?” You asked, voice rising with each word. 

“Hey-”

“What?” You ask. You’re fully yelling now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, stop yelling.” He warns. He stands up from the bed. You stand up and get in his face.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Toji!” You pushed his chest. He didn’t move an inch. “You don’t get to come in here, acting like you’re all worried about me! Acting like you give a fuck!” You were full on sobbing by now.

“Y/N-”

“What the hell is going on in here?” You hear your door swing open and whip around to see your mother standing at the door with a baseball bat in hand. 

Shit.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house? Get the hell out of here!” 

Toji books it out the window, looking at you one last time before leaving. 

“What the hell are you thinking, Y/N? You have a boy in here?” She yells at you. “You’re too young for this! Doing this under my roof, are you insane?” 

You just stand there staring at the floor. “Mom?” You ask, voice cracking. She sets the bat down by your door and rushes to your side. “Did he hurt you? Y/N? What did he do?” You cling onto the back of her shirt and cry into her neck. “Mom-” Is all you can get out before you’re violently shaking and you can feel your knees give out. 

It’s a week later when you see Toji again. Your mother had let you stay home from school for a day, and when you got back, Toji was nowhere to be found. 

Word got around school quickly. If it hadn’t been Shoko who told you, It could’ve been ten other people. Utahime and Saori, another girl you befriended, became your lunch buddies, taking Toji’s place. 

You didn’t want to seem as hurt as you felt, not with Takako grinning at you in the halls every time she saw you. 

He was at your window that night. You didn’t have work, and had taken the free time to catch up on some assignment you had missed. You heard a knock on your window and immediately tensed. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself when you heard the pane slide up. 

You hadn’t even thought about locking your window. Didn’t expect Toji to want anything to do with you. 

“I saw the light on." He explained, like it gave him the right to come in, "Can we talk?” He whispered, “and can you not yell?” You didn’t look up at him. He towered over you from where you sat at your desk. “Can’t promise you anything.” You said. You pretended to work on an algebra problem, but you couldn’t focus with him in the room. 

“Come with me to my truck then.” He pleads. You tap your pencil on the wooden desk and turn your head to look up at him. He looks a mess. Hair mussed like he hadn’t brushed it in days, clothes rumpled and stained. His right eye sports a fading black ring around it. 

You bite your lip. You refuse to show any concern, but you're too curious. You point your pencil at his eye, “What happened there?” He stares at you for a second.

“Can you come or not?” He asks. This would be a common occurrence throughout the rest of your relationship. Toji showing up with a new bruise and brushing you off when you question it.

“Can you answer my question?” You taunt back. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

You sigh and throw your pencil down on the desk. “I’m doing homework, Toji.” You respond. 

“Please.” He begs. 

You know you shouldn’t. You and your mother had had a lengthy conversation just this morning. “You need to stay away from boys like him.” she said as she moved around the kitchen to prepare you breakfast. This hadn’t been a common occurrence until she noticed you had stopped eating. It wasn’t intentional, you just didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “They don’t do anything but lead you down a path you don’t want to go down, Y/N.” She says, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “He’s showing you who he is right now. Believe him.” 

You contemplated it. You knew, deep down, that you shouldn’t. Knew you should’ve called for your mom the second he tapped on your window. But you didn’t. 

“Okay.” 

The two of you crawled out of your window and walked a few houses down to Toji’s truck, parked in an abandoned parking lot. The two of you hop in at the same time. You had suddenly wished you grabbed your coat. It wasn’t necessarily cold, you just wanted something to comfort you. 

“I fucked up.” There it is. His voice, even if he’s saying something incredibly delusional and ridiculous, that is your comfort. He turns in his seat to face you. You do the same, your foot coming up to rest in the seat. 

“I really, really fucked up.” 

“So what’s your excuse?” You ask. You know it’s a bit hurtful. That was a little intentional.

“I just.. I don’t have one.” 

You think about that for a second. “Sooo…” you begin with a laugh, suddenly ten times more bitter than before. “You had sex with another girl… just because?” You ask.

He has nothing to say to that. 

“What am I to you, Toji?” 

He looks at you for a second like he’s pondering. Trying to put it into words, or maybe trying to come up with something. You didn’t know. 

“Everything.” He says, finally.

You smile. It’s a nasty, bitter smile. “That so?” You ask. “I’d hate to see how you treat someone you hate. Gotta be pretty bad.”

“Baby..”

“I’m sorry if I’m misunderstanding you here.” You say, you put your foot back onto the floor of his truck. “You brought me out here, interrupted me, mind you, to what? Tell me that you cheated on me because you felt like it?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this angry in your life. You get out of the car. Not waiting for a response. You slam the door, briskly walking back home. 

“Y/N! Come the fuck on!” You can hear him slamming the door and following you. “Don’t walk out here by yourself.” He’s being dramatic. Your house is literally within your field of vision. You can hear his feet rushing to catch up to you. You turn around and point your finger at his chest. “Leave me the fuck alone.” You say with as much conviction as you can muster. 

He does. 

When you get back home, you realize you had left your phone on your desk next to your abandoned algebra homework. You have a message from Utahime waiting for you. When you open your flip phone up, you read

hime <3: wanna go 2 hakari’s w me this fri?

Suddenly you have an idea. Make him hurt like you did. Maybe a little worse, if he cared about you at all, that is. Deep down you knew he did. Even if only a little. 

you: ofc :)

longer chapter for tonight! i'm having fun writing this! thank you for the support!

i changed the name to decode because i was listening to it while writing this chapter and it was a little bit too perfect. everybody say thank you hayley williams.

other songs i listened to while writing include

breaking benjamin - diary of jane

foo fighters - everlong

bts (suga) - trivia: seesaw

paramore - all i wanted

i feel like im on drugs rn

tag list, comment to be added

@mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut

[cybrs4pphic]

camgirl pt 2!!

camgirl!reader x abby

afab/fem!reader, squirting (:p), full nelson (:0), abby yearns to be inside you, fuckin on the first date, reader has no idea abby knows abt her sex work, kinda awkward first-time sexual tension lol, abby has a fat dick (:D), this is so long???????

18+ mdni (goodbye minors)

it’s the next day and abby is still trying to work up the courage to text you. she doesn’t want to sound boring, but she also doesn’t wanna overdo it. she’s laying in bed, your number typed into the chat, her fingers hovering over the keys.

‘hey, you gave me your number at the coffee shop yesterday and i thought you were really pretty so… i’m abby,’

her thumb was now just hovering over the blue arrow to send the message before hitting it, eventually sending the message. abby immediately shuts her phone off tossing it on the bed trying to find something to distract herself with while she waits.

abby decides to just turn on some show she’s seen a million times. a few hours later you text her back with a ‘hiii abby!! thank u!! sorry, was at work :( i’d love to do somethin w you sometime soon if ur down :p,’

she’s almost, almost, embarrassed at how fast she replies. ‘you’re okay, how was work today? and i’d love to. what did you have in mind?,’

‘well, if u wanted to hangout today, i wouldnt mind just gettin to know you like at mine or somethin, i’ll cook u dinner too whatcha want :3,’

abby’s gonna blow up. ‘i’m not picky, surprise me. and that sounds great, how does 7 sound then?’

‘perfect, i’ll see you soon!’ you send her your address in a separate message with a little heart. abby could actually pass away right now.

2 hours later it’s 7:05 and abby’s standing outside your door, not wearing anything too special— just jeans and a shirt taking a deep breath before knocking. a few second later she hears the door unlocking and opening.

she sees you, looking cute as ever. she then hears the sweetness of your voice inviting her in, abby mustering up a smile through the nerves.

“okay, so, i‘m makin’ chicken alfredo if that works for you?”

“s’perfect,” abby slurs out, practically soaking her underwear watching you cook, mainly your ass in those stupid leggings. is she wearing underwear? floods abby’s thoughts.

“almost done. if you wanna go sit down i’ll get everything ready,” you turn around giving abby a quick smile before returning to your cooking.

abby’s in heaven right now. you sitting across from her, just getting to know each other. finding out you both actually have so much in common makes her feel ecstatic. you guys are having such a good time talking you both nearly forget about the food.

“you’re a great cook,” abby says as you, blushing, take her plate from her placing it in the sink after rinsing it off.

“thank you! tried really hard on this one actually,” you say, giggling. yeah, abby’s obsessed. she needs to be inside you, making you a mess on her cock-

“wanna watch a movie ‘er somethin’?” you interrupt her thoughts.

“what kinda movie?”

“was thinkin’ something scary, if you’re down?”

“works for me,” abby replies, moving to sit next to you on the couch as you scroll through the vast amount of horror movies on whatever streaming app you picked.

“oh! how ‘bout the new texas chainsaw?” you don’t even give abby a chance to reply before you hit play— not like she really cares what you guys watch anyway.

abby has her arm around the back of the couch manspread while you have your knees tucked under you half sitting on your butt half on your heels next to her. within the first five minutes of the movie, she has her arm draped over your side mindlessly drawing patterns into your hips and thighs while you lay on her chest.

you guys get about halfway through the movie before abby breathes out, “hey.”

“yeah?” you reply, picking your head up to meet her eyes.

abby glances at your lips, before asking, “can i kiss you?” to which you just nod a bunch.

abby leans in meeting you halfway to finally kiss you. not long after, she’s grabbing your hips pulling you onto her lap so you’re straddling her, deepening the kiss.

you pull away first, gasping for air. abby’s also gasping for air, but she could kiss you til she passes out, honestly.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” abby breathes out as she toys with the hem of your shirt. you nod as a reply.

“words,” abby says bluntly.

“yes,” you breathe out, still catching your breath. abby wastes no time pulling you out of your shirt and bra before taking her own off.

“god, fuck, c’mere,” she’s pushing your hips up so that your tits are eye level with her before she immediately latches onto your tit. one hand is groping your ass while her other hand is toying with your other nipple. jesus, her hands are so fucking cold you’re practically shaking under her touch.

your hands run down her chest, stopping to play with her tits before sliding down to the button on her jeans.

“take ‘em off,” you whine out. abby happily obliges, gently grabbing u by the hips before laying you down on the couch. she gets up undoing her pants sliding them off. she’s immediately on top of you, thumbs under the waistband of your leggings breathing out a “can i?”

“please,” your voice barely above a whisper, but abby’s already peeling your leggings off realizing you, in fact, were not wearing underwear.

“s’like you wanted to get fucked tonight,” abby lets out a small laugh.

“by you,” you shoot back as you spread your legs in front of her making abby blush as she leans forward to kiss your inner thighs, seeing your glistening cunt clenching around nothing. she starts sucking like she’s about to leave a hickey, making your legs shake from the sensitivity.

“abby, please,” you breathe out.

“please what?

“fuck me, abby, please need to feel you,” you whine out reaching out to wrap your fingers in her hair.

“don’t have a strap, ba-”

“i do,” you cut her off. “come with me,” you pull her up by her hair giving her a quick kiss before getting up, taking abby’s hand, and practically skipping to your bedroom. once you open the door abby immediately recognizes it. your bed in the center of the room against the back wall, a desk across from the bed, probably where you set up your camera. what’s new to her is all the decorations that she didn’t usually see when you were live.

“cute room,” abby states as you’re digging through your closet for a dildo.

“thanks! what kinda cock you want?” you ask her it so casually abby nearly.

“how many do you have?” abby questions you back.

“a bunch,” you giggle.

“what, are you some kind of pornstar?” abby smirks and you can practically hear the smirk in the way she asks the question. you have the dildo in your hand, but you freeze at her question. you know it’s a joke, a rhetorical question, so you just laugh it off bringing her the dick.

“you seem like a fat cock kinda girl,” you smile handing abby the harness and dildo.

“and you seem like you love taking fat cock,” abby fires back sliding the harness up her legs, securing it. “now where were we?” abby says, sliding her hands up your stomach to your breasts watching them spill out from her fingers. you lean up to catch her lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it by tilting your head to the side and allowing abby’s tongue access to your mouth. she’s grabbing your hips and placing you on your bed before attacking your neck and chest with kisses.

“fuck, these tits are perfect,” abby says as she slides two fingers down your cunt, teasing your entrance. “you can take two fingers, right, baby? gotta get you ready for my cock,” you practically moan at her words and she’s barely touching you. is she even real?

“yes, yes! please just touch me, abby,” abby responds by sliding her middle and ring finger into you searching for that soft spot. she’s fucking her fingers back into you,, eventually finding your g-spot, hitting it with the tips of her fingers making you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan.

“found it,” she smirks to herself. she really can’t believe she’s actually touching you right now; this is like a dream come true for her. countless nights of her watching you touch yourself and her finally being the one to make you shake and moan under her touch. she has to fuck you.

“do you have lube?” she asks to which you nod telling her where it is. abby gets up squirting some lube onto the cock you gave her, taking her hand making sure it’s covered.

“are you ready?” she asks looking up at you, her hand still on her cock, stroking it like it’s attached to her. you give her a few eager nods followed by a ‘yes’. abby walks over to you, pushing you on your back before asking if you’re ready again like she’s scared she’s gonna hurt you

“please fuck me, abby,” you get right to the point and abby nods before pushing the dildo into your weeping cunt with her hips. the way you’re gasping and whining just from her putting it in makes abby want to absolutely ruin you. abby needs to fuck you so well every time you touch yourself on camera all you can think of is her.

abby begins rocking her hips back and forth at a pretty slow pace, nearly pulling out completely before pushing herself right back in, where she belongs, you letting out little whimpers every time she pushes back in.

“faster, please, abby,” you whine out as she’s pulling out.

“gladly,” abby takes your legs, throwing them over her shoulders before leaning forward to properly fuck you. abby’s fucking you faster like you requested but it’s still not deep enough for your liking.

“abby abby deeper, please please,” you plead for her.

“can i try somethin’?” abby questions to and you, obviously, tell her yes. before you know it abby’s completely pulled out of you, whining at the empty feeling, before she’s leaning her upper back on the bed frame, patting her lap for you to straddle her.

“face away from me, baby,” abby says.

“what’re you plannin’?” you giggle out, smiling at her.

“‘ts a surprise,” she smiles back before patting her lap again to which you throw a leg over her lap (abby definitely slapped your ass) before settling right in front of the dildo.

“now what?” abby put her feet up on the bed and threads her arms underneath your thighs beginning to pull them up towards your chest.

“relax f’me,” she says quietly from behind you causing you to relax into her hold, your back to her chest. once you’re fully in abby’s grasp, you take her cock sliding it back into you.

“you good?” abby questions to which you nod and abby’s hands snake around the back of your neck, forcing you to watch you take her cock.

before you can comprehend it, abby’s fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. you can feel how tight it is, how deep she is, all of it— you practically feel her in your throat and all you can do is take it and watch.

abby’s grunts mixed with your whines and moans is making abby soak through her fucking underwear

“fuckfuckfuck abby, y’re too deep! please please,”

“you can take it— know you can,” abby replies not letting up on her assault on your cunt. you’re a fucking mess of moans and tears and drool and you can barely handle it when abby’s hand snakes to your clit rubbing it in fast tight circles with her two fingers.

you’re practically fucking sobbing with how she’s stimulating your clit and constantly fucking up into your g-spot. your eyes closes shut as you’re so close to coming.

“eyes open, breathe,”

“can’t— i can’t s’too much, ‘m gonna come,” you’re shocked you can even get out even that much.

“‘m not stoppin’ you,” abby says, not letting up in the slightest. you do your best to keep your breaths steady, but the way your orgasm is building up, it feels different.

“abby… abby abby,” you chant her name, whether it’s a warning or a plea, she doesn’t care. all abby cares about right now is the way her hands and thighs are being soaked right now. your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream just watching the way you gush all over abby’s cock.

“did you just fuckin’ squirt,” abby’s giddy right now.

“are you even human?” you breathe out to which abby just lets out a laugh, releasing you from her grasp causing you to practically collapse on top of her.

“so the answer’s yes,” abby smirks, brushing her fingers gently along the back of your neck, where she knows she definitely put too much pressure on while fucking you.

you feel her slide out of you as you roll onto your stomach eyeing her up and down. you freeze as you hear her say

“i know you’re a camgirl,”

“what?”

pt 3 maybe :3 this is the longest thing ive ever written

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[verxsyon]

·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓? ❞

wriothesley always wins his bets against you. for this round, the stakes are getting much higher. how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings to the duke? will this be the moment you’ll finally come out victorious, even though you have to pretend that your feelings toward him are in denial?

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. wriothesley x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. drabble ; 0.6k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. coworkers to lovers au ; fluff

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. no way, it's almost been a year since i wrote a drabble and for genshin too. wrote this during class today, so it looks pretty rushed lol. this man’s the death of me. he can choke slam me like he did with douchier dougier in his story quest. and no, i’m not sorry for saying that.

A defeated sigh escapes your lips as your cards rain down from your fingers onto Wriothesley’s desk. “Unbelievable. A first-time TCG player beat me in all three rounds. So, what do you want your prize to be? A tea company from the surface?”

“Haha. Your suggestions are becoming more adventurous, captain.” Wriothesley kicks back on his chair with a great idea in mind from the smug smile on his face. “Meet me there at night. You’ll help me sneak in, and I’ll rob its entire collection.”

You narrow his eyes at his sarcasm, and he surrenders. “Alright. I'll settle with a tea cup set. The cups in my current one are broken and the teapot has some cracks, so it’ll be nice to have a new one.”

“Okay, I’ll place an order from the surface and ship it here.” You get up from your seat. “I must head back. The guards could be slacking off as we speak. Excuse me, your grace.” 

“Ah, actually.” You hear the chair scrape the floor and turn to face him, who’s now leaning against the front of his desk. “Before you go, there’s something I need you to investigate.”

“Of course. what is it?” He stops you from coming back to your seat by his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. His expression’s gone rather ominous, and it stays that way when he leans closer to your ear.

“How long will it take for the captain of the gardes to admit their feelings for the duke?”

You cough violently and push yourself out of his hold. Despite his claims of not being omnipotent, his eyes and ears are everywhere within and beyond the fortress. But why are you still surprised that he’ll find out your feelings toward him eventually?

“Don’t tell me you believe those rumors, your grace?” You boldly deny, but deep inside you already know he totally won’t buy your facade based on your immediate reaction. “I’m assuming that’s what you want me to investigate, so again, please excuse me—”

“You didn’t answer my question, captain.” His fingers glide to your shoulder, akin to caressing it, and the temperature in your cheeks suddenly skyrockets. “So, how long will it take for the captain of the gardes to—?”

“I heard you the first time, your grace,” you say dismissively, screaming at him in your head to let you go back to your station and never talk about this matter ever again. “With all due respect, what’s the meaning of this?”

“Come on. Don’t tell me you already forgot,” he laughs as he goes back to his seat, hands folded on top of his desk. “Wanna bet?”

“This again?” you huff, more worn out from his ludicrous habits since you were stationed at the fortress as its security team. However, this could be an opportunity for you to finally win against him. If he decides to play the game this way, then might as well follow along to ensure your own victory. “Fine, I’ll say never.”

“Oh? No faith in the duke’s capabilities to charm them?” He seems confident with the answer he has come up with. “I’ll say within the next hour or two.”

“Ha! Overestimating the captain’s willpower to not fall for his charms, I see,” you counter, showing off your determination to win. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Alright then, it’s settled.” He shakes hands with you to solidify the agreement. “Oh, and captain? No need for your suggestions for this one. I know what I want as my prize.”

“Oh? And what would that be, your grace?”

Wriothesley just chuckles and tells you the most unpredictable thing that you never imagine being your fate as a loser. “How about a date with the captain themselves?”

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. 

That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer. 

I wanna play music. 

As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune. 

Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.

High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection. 

No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes. 

No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school? 

No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths. 

But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.

He never does. 

The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break. 

And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore. 

The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either. 

He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path. 

Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that. 

He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out. 

Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder. 

The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up. 

“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.” 

Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?” 

He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve. 

“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?” 

He nods again. 

“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.” 

Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare. 

 “Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.” 

Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does. 

The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his. 

“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve. 

Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.

[hells-greatest-overlord]

I read that she opened requests and it can be requested, then it may be one where those at the hazbin hotel discover that Alastor has a wife (Fem, Male, Gn) and she is someone who is very pure, innocent and almost angelic but she was also a murderer along with her husband and it surprises her more that she was also a sovereign, her power lay in her voice; She can sing and make the rest obey her, even bind them to her, but she has only a few sinners attached to her 🦑

of course! I’ll try my best, thank you for the request)

“Pretty but deadly”

You opened your eyes and looked around to a place that didn’t seem familiar, a pain in you head made it hard to think as you got up from a bed that was not comfortable what so ever. You looked out the window and were confused, this looked nothing like earth. You turned around and looked at yourself in a near by cracked mirror trying to remember anything that could help you figure out where you were.

You fixed your dress to make yourself more presentable as you took a deep breath and started to walk down the street.

A big, bright neon sign caught your eye and you started to head towards there hoping you can find some answers

you walked into what seemed to be a hotel and looked at the walls as you walked into the main lobby.

“hello?” You ask as you then were approached by a tall woman dressed in a red suit “Hi there! Welcome to the Hazbin hotel my name is Charlie” she said with excitement In her voice

“I’m y/n” you said with a softer voice. She started to tell you about the hotel with another presence entered the room

“hey Charlie there i-“ Alastor said before he saw you freezing for a moment as your eyes locked. “My darling? Is that you?” He asked still in shock as you nod and smile as you made your way over to him hugging him.

he hugged back for a moment as he looked at you “my dear but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in heaven?” He asked as she shook her head no “I did a bad thing” she said quietly

Alastor smiled his big smiled as he was proud of his darling “Well then I guess you’ll be stuck with me” he said “let me introduce you to everyone while we’re here”

Alastor walked you over to where everyone was as everyone started to stare at you, you slightly hid behind alastor. “Now, everyone I would like you to meet my wife, y/n” he said as he looked at you

angel chocked up a little looking at you “That’s your wife? She ain’t look like she hurt anybody” he said

“Well everyone has there secrets now don’t they” alastor said as he then stepped to the side a little putting an arm around your waist

“Now dear I have to go take care of something real quick but don’t worry these people will take care of you for the time being” alastor said as he walked off leaving you there

you looked at everyone gently putting your head down as you looked at the floor figiting with your hands a little

“Hey it’s ok you don’t need to be scared we’re not gonna hurt you” Charlie said as she led you to the table pulling out a card game “wanna play” she asked as you nodded you and some of the others started to play

Time passes and Alastor eventually returns to seeing the table with cards and you winning against everyone a grin comes to his face.

“Well I see someone is enjoying themselves” he said as he took a seat by you “Now my dear, may I ask how you got here?” He asked, you looking down at the cards mumbling to yourself

“What was that deary? I didn’t hear you” he said as you looked over at him “I-um.. I killed a few people..-“

his eyes widen as he smiled his big smile and a little shocked as well as everyone else looked at you shocked “you did what?” He asked again just to clarify “I killed a few people” you repeated again

“well isn’t that interesting” he said with a smile “And my dear, who did you kill per chance?” He asked. “It was only supposed to be the person who killed you.. but then the feeling felt good so then it was the new radio person they hired, our neighbor who said very mean things about us and then one of the teachers at the school” you said

“well now I see” he said with a smile “no need to worry darling I’ll be here with you if you need anything” alastor said as he held out a hand which you carefully took and got up “let me show you to your room”

Alastor led you to the now shared room as he closed the door softly behind the two of you. He took a small deep breath as he walked and gave you a hug gently wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him “I missed you my dear” he said with a soft voice

“I missed you too,” you said as you hugged him back. The two of you just stood there in silence as you started to hum softly one of the songs that played on your wedding night. Alastor grinned as he slowly moved his hand to yours and the other to your side as you gently swayed together.

The time felt slow and a small moment of peace between two lovers became one again, Alastor was about to mention something when there was a knock at the door. Alastor let out an annoyed sigh as he held you “What is it?’

“There is a visitor for y/n’’ charlie said through the door as you looked at Alastor giving him a confusing look as the two of you then walked out into the hall where you saw your ex. You looked at them and wanted to puke- you HATED them and seeing them here just made you want to leave.

“Hey babe, im so glad your here” they said in a cocky tone “Im not anything to you other than your ex, get that through your dumb head” you said snapping back quickly “Yes you are, i heard you singing and it led me to you. That has to mean something” he said as you rolled you eyes getting annoyed “ It means nothing. I was humming a song between me and my Husband” you said making sure to emphasise on the last part

“Wow wow my bad, but remember when he leaves youll know where to find me” he said giving you a wink as he left the building. You rolled your eyes a sigh leaving your mouth as you look at alastor who looked ready to kill him. “Im sorry about him i-”

“There is nothing to be sorry about my dear it wasn’t your fault, lets just forget about it ok?” he said and you nodded agreeing

Later that night the two of you caught up on well everything! The death, the real world, new things going on, whatever needed to be brought up the two of you talked about as you both were now together forever

( I apologize if this isn’t what you wanted I did my best )

[temtamtom]

Fuck it, I’m taking out the trash. Here’s a dump of sketches and some perpetual WIPs that are sitting in my procreate files. A few of these are from well over a year ago 😭 I’ve actually posted a few of these WIPs before, only to promptly delete them out of insecurity (at least I think I did. Some might still be up and I just forgot lol). I’m trying to be less shy about my art, even the caca sketches- so I’m pulling them back out of the abyss.

Some context/explanations for the drawings under the cut:

1st page:

- An exploration of a young Ludwig. He came out more baby-faced than I originally planned, so let’s just say he’s like. 12. Or something. Bro should be playing Fortnite 😩

- I think this is from a year ago- it’s a Björn from one of Grem’s AUs (which is why he’s got all those scars, rest in piss)

2nd page:

This is one of the WIPs I posted and then deleted immediately after. At least I think I did, I can’t seem to find it on my blog. Anyways, I sketched this while exploring how the itabros drifted apart as they grew. This particular one-shot is set during Holy Rome’s funeral, and Romano is conflicted on how (or even IF) he should approach Feli. Should he comfort him? It might be awkward, but that’s his brother so he SHOULD say something, right? Would he even be that helpful? It hurts to see him cry, but he’s already surrounded by so many people, it might just be redundant. God this is so awkward and difficult and and and-

3rd page:

Woe, Venetican be upon ye. Thinking of Pietro’s more sentimental, softer side. The part of him that yearns for something genuine with Feliciano, but would never dare to cross that line. He’s scared of what his feelings mean and if he thinks about it too much he might just shatter. If you’re wondering why Feli is blurry, my idea was to imitate a camera focal lens and have it “focus” on Pietro’s face solely. Sadly, despite the blur, I didn’t like Vene’s face so I just moved on to other things FBGHF

4th page:

- This started off as a study from a photo and then ofc I hetalia-fied it by turning it into Sebastiano. He’s just a littol guy…

- Another oldie. VERY old and very rough, from well over a year ago. This was from a historical story/one-shot idea where Romano’s on a Not-Date with Alfred, and he breaks the news that he’s going back to Italy. They’re not a couple, and they won’t be for a long time. It’s very rough but ngl I like how Romano’s face turned out

- Another historical one-shot idea- this time about Gaul and François. I already posted a sketch of lil France from this comic a few weeks ago, but I don’t think I showed any Gaul panels. Here he’s talking to a Druid, who comments on François’ peculiar nature, and tells Vindiorix to hold onto him before he inevitably slips from his fingers. Soon enough, François would live under Rome’s care as “Gallia Narbonensis”. He would eventually embrace his new Roman identity, and his loyalty would shift (both out of genuine respect, and for survival)- inevitably drifting away from his father. I wasn’t happy with the dialogue, so I left it on the back burner for another day.

I’ve been thinking a lot about François’ childhood. His relationships with Vindiorix and Rome, his loyalties, his turmoils, his regrets. There’s more I’d like to say, and I would love to make a more in-depth post about it, but uni has fried my brain and it’s become difficult to string a coherent thought or sentence together. One day, though! I love those two so much augh they tickle my brainnnn

——

Pls excuse any errors or awkward phrasing, I’m genuinely running on fumes 😭 </3 At least I’ll be on break soon YAYAA. Anyways if y’all wanna yap about any of this stuff, my inbox is open. I’ve got a few lovely asks I need to finish answering too aaaa sorry y’all

[slaymitchabernathy]

Hiding & Seeking

“Stop,” she giggles, letting him know she wants nothing more than for him to keep going.

She can feel Coriolanus smile against the delicate skin of her neck, still peppering kisses up and down the column of her throat.

She knows he won’t leave any bruises. Not where others can see at least.

He likes to leave bruises in other places. Her breasts, her ass, right above her cunt.

“All for me,” he’d always drawl.

“All for you,” she’d always whisper.

Right now she’s all his and he’s all hers. Coriolanus gets busy during the week, he’s trying to do a million things at once and that means he can’t always spend time with her.

But Soarynn doesn’t mind. She just sits and waits patiently for him to come see her. Like a doll.

His grip on her waist tightens as she shifts on his lap, “Do you wanna play a game doll?”

Soarynn perks up at the mention of a game. Even though she’ll lose. She always loses to him. She’s horrible at cards, board games are always far too complicated and she despises social games like spin the bottle.

It’s a good thing Coriolanus suggests her favorite game.

“Let’s play hide and seek.”

Soarynn tilts her head, allowing him better access to her neck while she ponders how long she’ll have to hide. Sometimes Coriolanus can be sweet, and he’ll give her five minutes. Sometimes he can be mean, and he’ll give her ten seconds.

“I’ll give you one minute,” he says, as if reading her mind.

Soarynn nods, whimpering when he sucks a little hard than normal, “And I can hide anywhere?”

His hands squeezed her waist so hard she knows there will be bruises, “Anywhere,” he agrees.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s pushing her off his lap and she’s bounding down the hallway. Coriolanus has a rather large penthouse and Soarynn’s spent so much time here that she knows all the best hiding spots.

But that means he does too.

Sometimes he’ll stay in whatever room she left him in and wait a full minute. Other times he follows behind her. It’s a chase with him. Always has been, always will be.

It was a chase when he first set eyes on her. She was already his, she just didn’t know it yet. It was a chase to get her to go on a date with him, then another, then another. It wasn’t much of a chase to get her to be his girlfriend. Coriolanus has never had to try too hard with anything he sets his mind to.

Soarynn looks over her shoulder and her heart rate picks up when she locks eyes with her boyfriend. He’s following her, at a casual stroll. A stalk. He’s got that smirk he’s so well known for, his head tilted in amusement as he watches her run down the hallways of his ancestral home.

“Run and hide babydoll,” he croons.

Soarynn takes a right down a smaller hallway, this one leads to a variety of guest rooms and a small parlor.

She goes for the parlor.

There’s an empty fireplace in between two large, heavy mahogany bookshelves. And several arm chairs and a sofa. This room hasn’t been touched in years.

Soarynn hides in the fireplace.

It’s not dirty, she doubts it’s ever been used before. She can hear the telltale click of his shiny leather shoes, slowly making their way down the hallway.

She cranes her neck and watches his shoes disappear into one of the guest rooms. Her heart is beating so fast, like she’s his prey.

Soarynn lets out a small whimper after a few minutes have passed. She can’t hear him anymore which to some might seem like a good thing, but not to her. It means he’s figured it out.

Coriolanus Snow is a quiet and calculated man, carefully choosing when to weigh in on certain things and the same goes for when they play this silly little game.

It means he’s waiting. Waiting for her to make the first move. The first fatal move. He’s waiting for her to mess up. She always does. Always.

Eventually her back begins to hurt from the crouched down position she’s in, and her neck hurts and her feet hurt and she’s going to need to find a new hiding place.

If she can make it back to his bedroom, then she wins. That’s always been the rule with him, if she can slip through his claws and make it back to safety, she wins.

But she’s never won.

Maybe this is my chance, she thinks, slowly crawling out from her hiding spot.

Soarynn's quiet as she tiptoes across the room and sticks her head into the hallway. She looks to the left. No Coriolanus. She looks to the right. No Coriolanus.

She knows she doesn't have much time, that he's probably still in one of the guest rooms searching for her and she wastes no time in quietly padding down the hallway, her feet nearly slipping on the marble floor.

Soarynn's head is on a swivel as she makes her way down the main hallway to his bedroom where she just might win. She's so close she can taste it. The doors are still open. Even better.

A bright smile spread across her face as she reached the doors. Then it drops.

He's sitting on the bed.

His legs are spread, his hands pressed into the mattress as he leisurely looks her up and down as if he has all the time in the world. And he's got that smirk on his face when he sees how surprised she is. How scared she is.

Soarynn doesn't know what to do for a moment. She's frozen. Run, she thinks. She turns on her heel but his commanding voice stops her.

"Don't."

With her head hung low she slowly walks into his bedroom, towards where he's sitting before getting down on her knees in front of him.

Where she belongs.

His large hand comes down and pinches her chin, tilting her head up to look at him, "You did so well this time doll," he says with false sympathy dripping in his voice. His lips curl up further, "Too bad I'm always one step ahead of you hmm?"

If there was a way to describe Coriolanus and Soarynn's relationship, it would be just that. He's always been one step ahead of her.

"I really tried this time," she whispered, her eyes pleading as she looked into his piercing blue ones. Maybe she could get out of this, her punishment.

That's why she despises games. Because there's always a catch with Coriolanus, and if he catches you, then there's always a punishment not far behind.

He nods, "Of course you did," his thumb rubs her bottom lip and she opens her mouth without question, allowing his thumb to slip into her mouth, prying it open like a music box.

Coriolanus loves it when she sings for him.

"But my little doll isn't very smart, is she? Can't get too far without me finding you huh?"

His words hurt, cut through her like glass, pierce her skin like thorns on a rose bush. He's right. She's never been smart, she's always been so naive, so trusting with everyone. Including him. That's why it's so good he found her. At least that's what he tells her.

"No," she whispers, "I'm not very smart."

Coriolanus grunts in approval, his eyes flitting down to his pants where she can see how hard he already is for her. Soarynn thinks he gets off on these little games he likes to play with her. It's foreplay.

It's a mindfuck.

"Are you gonna be good for me and let me use my perfect little doll?"

"Yes."

He's pulling his pants down with haste, freeing his cock from his boxers all while she watches, motionless on her knees. It's not like she isn't used to this. Since they started dating he's always been so...forceful. He likes to make her take it. Watch her cry from overstimulation. Listen to her as she begs him to stop.

Her jaw goes slack the second he grabs his cock, she knows how this goes, how good dolls prepare their mouths for fucking.

Coriolanus is a big man. Everything about him is big. His hands, his teeth, his frame, his cock. It stretches Soarynn's lips as he slowly pushes it into her mouth, his other hand fisting her hair, holding her in place.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut as he slowly slides in, preparing for him to hit the back of her throat like he always does before he brutally fucks her throat for all it's worth.

"Open those pretty little eyes for me," he says in a sing-song voice.

Soarynn looks up at him and he slowly rises from the bed, looming over her as his cock sits heavy on her tongue. Her throat is going to be sore tomorrow morning.

It''s alright though, he''ll make her some tea. It's a good thing she has him to take care of her.

Coriolanus wastes no time in thrusting his cock in and out of her throat, listening to her gag as she tries to take his full length. It's a rather difficult task where Soarynn's concerned. Her mouth is small and his cock is big in length and girth. He's quite literally a mouthful and he knows it. Is proud of it. Loves to tease her about it. It's probably his favorite thing to do, teasing her comes so naturally to him. He can do it about anything. Her height, how small she is compared to him, how weak she is compared to him. How she can't live without his fingers in her puffy cunt, how needy she gets, how she can turn into a dog in heat after kissing for too long.

He's right though

"You always take me so well," he grits out, his thrusts becoming faster, his grip on her hair getting tighter. He's close, but that doesn't always mean he'll stop. And all Soarynn can do is sit there and take it.

She looks up at him, tears falling from her eyes, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks. He likes her best like this, pathetic and powerless. She likes it too. Sometimes.

She gags when the tip of his cock presses against the back of her throat, staying there as he finally tips over the edge. Soarynn digs her nails into the skin of her thighs while she tries not to move, tries not to pull herself off of him. She manages for about ten more seconds while his cum shoots down her throat. But then it hurts and he's not moving. Soarynn feels herself gag, then cough but he stays put.

Soarynn lets out a muffled scream, something you could barely hear with his cock shoved down her throat but he hears it. Finally, he lets go and Soarynn sinks to the floor, coughing and hacking, trying to suck in as much air as possible.

Tears fall onto the cold marble floor as she lies there, trying to collect herself. Dolls don't cry after all.

"It's too much," she croaks, looking up at him.

Coriolanus tilts his head as he watches his girlfriend struggle on the floor. He should be helping her, comforting her. "Get on the bed."

Soarynn glances at the bed, her bottom lip trembling before she resigns herself to another night of endless fucking. It's not too terrible, at the beginning at least. The end is where she's sobbing because she swears he's going to rip her apart.

And he sure tries.

He takes her from behind tonight, slipping right into her cunt without as little as prepping her. Why should he when she's always ready for him? Like a good doll should be.

Soarynn moans into the mattress as he pounds into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of her every single time. He never fails to make her cum, to make her cry and quake with pleasure.

In the beginning, he'd been so sweet, so slow and patient. Caring. He'd been her first, and the look in his eyes as he slowly slid into her for the first time should've been a warning about how possessive Coriolanus Snow could be. He'd actually been proud when they finished and he found where she'd bled onto his white sheets. He smirked as he swiped a finger between her legs, finding it sticky with cum when he pulled it away, "Now you're covered in me and I'm covered in you," he'd said.

His hand on the back of her head pulls her back to the present where her walls are already tightening, "Is my doll already gonna cum for me? Gonna be my good little fuckdoll and cum all over my cock?"

Soarynn moaned in response, her hips meeting his with every thrust, "Yes! Yes, please, please let me cum, please, please," she cries, so close to her orgasm. But she won't cum until he tells her to do so.

Because she's a good doll.

He chuckles in her ear, "Ready to be filled up? To be stuck on my cock the entire night? I know you love it Soarynn, love being my little sex doll I can do anything with."

Soarynn's eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his other hand on her clit. It's like he's trying to get her to cum. He's toying with her.

"Please," she gasps, "please, I love it, love being your doll."

She knows he likes it more than she does. Having control. Making her take load after load when he finishes inside of her and he always finishes inside of her. Loves bending her in all sorts of positions, trying to see which one will make her break. Loves bouncing her up and down, seeing how glassy her eyes get while her head lolls back and forth. So dumb with it already.

He sucks on her neck, it's going to bruise. "Cum for me doll, show me what you're good for. Tell me what good fuckdolls do."

Soarynn moans when she reaches her peak, her walls fluttering around his cock as her vision goes white. "They...they do what you tell them to," she gasps, knowing that if she doesn't answer him then it'll be an even longer, more painful night.

He grunts as he spills himself inside of her. The first one of the night she knows. "Your cunt was made for me Soarynn, it's perfect for my cock. No one else will ever fill you up the way I do. Understand?"

Soarynn nods because what else is there to do?

Arguing never works. He knows where to hit to make it hurt, what to say to make it sting. "Fucking stupid slut, good for nothing whore, so easy to dumb down, not a thought behind those eyes."

Those are the words that echo in her mind when she runs away from him. Hides from him. Breaks down and cries.

But then she always comes back to him. Seeks him out. Let him wipe away the years, kiss the bruises, bandage the cuts. That's how their relationship works best.

Hiding & Seeking.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

It wasn’t fair. 

No matter how much Fogkit thought about it, she came back with the same conclusion. It wasn’t fair. 

Ospreymask had told them the terrible news just after lunch. Fogkit had refused to believe it at first. Slatekit had started sobbing immediately and Fogkit had held her tight, glaring at the messenger with the kind of anger that made her whole body shake. 

“Did she not want us?” Slatekit had managed to ask. “Did she- did she go to be with Ghost instead?” 

“Oh, Slatekit, no,” Ospreymask had tried to lean in but Fogkit had hissed to keep her away. “She didn’t want to leave you. She was just trying to do her job in a really dangerous place and things went wrong.” 

“Why did she go, though?” Fogkit had frowned. “Didn’t she know it was dangerous?” 

“She did,” Ospreymask had said with a smile that felt mean somehow, like the older cat thought she needed to be handled with soft paws, “but she knew her job was really important. She wanted to keep you both safe and stop the fighting.”

“Well she should have thought about it more!” Fogkit had decided. That had made Slatekit cry even harder and Fogkit had insisted Ospreymask go away. She and Slatekit had gone back to the nest, still smelling faintly of her, and cried for a long time. 

“I’ll never leave you,” Fogkit had sworn. “I’ll stay with you forever, Slatekit. I promise.” Eventually they’d fallen asleep, tangled in each other's embrace. When Fogkit woke up, Slatekit was gone.

She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the den to try and find her sister, her tail growing bottle brush. The evening was warm for the season, a gentle wind rustling just above the camp hollow. Someone had dragged a large husk of bark into the middle of camp and Slatekit was sitting with Barleypaw and Oddstripe, organizing flowers on its surface. Fogkit looked around and quickly scampered over to stand beside them.

“Hello, Fogkit,” Oddstripe said gently. “How are you feeling?” 

Fogkit gave him a dubious side glance and turned to focus on Slatekit. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Um…” Slatekit fiddled with one of the flowers she had in front of her.

“We’re getting ready for the funeral,” Barleypaw said. “Do you want to help us with the decorations, Fogkit?” 

“What?” Fogkit scowled. “Why?”

“It’s supposed to be mama…” Slatekit mumbled, running her paw over the bark.

“But it’s not.” Fogkit’s brows furrowed deeply. “It’s wood.” Slatekit sniffled.

“It’s an effigy,” Oddstripe explained. “We don’t have a body for your mom so we’re going to pretend this piece of bark is her instead. That way we have something to put flowers on and sit with while we think about her.” 

“That’s stupid,” declared Fogkit. 

“N-no it’s not!” Slatekit fretted, shrinking into her fur. 

“Yes it is.” Fogkit would not be budged. “It’s not our mama. It’s wood.” 

“We know,” said Barleypaw, “but pretending can help make it feel less sad.” 

“No it can't.” Fogkit was getting angry again. “This is bee-brained, you guys don’t know anything!” 

Oddstripe frowned a bit. “Hey, let’s not say hurtful things, okay?” 

“I can do what I want,” insisted Fogkit. 

“Not when it hurts people,” he said. 

“Yes I can,” she said. “You’re all stupid bee-brains and this effeegee is dumb. It doesn’t even look like her!” 

“Fogkit, stop,” Slatekit sniffled. “I like it.” 

“Why?” Fogkit’s tail lashed. “I can’t believe you left me to come play with a stupid piece of wood. I told you I would never leave you, didn’t I? I thought you were gonna do the same.” 

“I’m not leaving you,” Slatekit protested, mumbling into her own chest fur, “I just wanted to make a good funeral.” 

“Who cares?” Fogkit said, anger boiling up inside her. “Come on, let’s go do something else.” 

Slatekit shook her head. “No, I wanna stay.” 

“Why?!” Fogkit raised her voice. “This is stupid! Stop being such a bee-brain, it’s just wood!” Barleypaw looked at her father with a worried purse of her lips. 

“Fogkit,” Oddstripe said, “This is what Slatekit wants to do. You have to respect that.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Fogkit spat back. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire and she had to get it out. She swiped her claws out to knock some of the flowers onto the ground. “This whole thing is stupid! Putting flowers on some bark doesn’t fix anything!” She stomped on them for good measure but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to rip the whole world apart. She reached for more flowers but Slatekit shoved her away.

“Stop!” she wailed. “Fogkit, I picked those ones special!” 

Fogkit lunged and bit Slatekit on the paw as sharply. “Don’t push me!”

Slatekit fell back, scrambled into Barleypaw’s chest, and started to cry, staring at Fogkit with big wet gold eyes. Fogkit hated how much she saw her mother’s face there. Suddenly Oddstripe’s teeth were in Fogkit’s scruff and she squirmed and thrashed as he picked her up and dragged her away. 

“Alright,” he said around her fur, “that’s a time out.” Her face burned in fury at the indignity. 

“Let me go!” she screamed, swinging her claws wherever she could throw them, “I’ll tear your rotting legs off!” She could hear people whispering and it only made her more upset.

“You’re very angry,” Oddstripe started towards the nursery, “and that’s okay, but you can’t be out here biting people and yelling at them.” 

“You’re not my mom!” she shouted and immediately she started to cry at the thought. “You’re-” a sniff, “You can’t tell me what to do!” Oddstripe finally let her go, sending her tumbling into the nursery. She jumped to her feet and tried to push past him but he blocked her with his chest and shoved her back in.

“I understand that you’re very upset,” he said. “You’re allowed to be upset. But just because your mom is gone doesn’t mean you get to act however you want and be nasty to other people. There are still rules. We still have to be kind to each other.” 

“I hate you!” Fogkit spat, her fur bristling like it wanted to leap off of her body. 

“Okay, fine,” Oddstripe sighed. Behind him Slatekit was staring. Fogkit looked away sharply. 

“You can throw a tantrum if you want,” Oddstripe continued, “but you have to do it here in the nursery. If you want to come out you have to stop screaming and attacking people and destroying their things, understood?”

“That’s not fair!” Fogkit protested.

“Yes it is,” he said sternly. “What’s not fair is everyone else not being able to feel safe because you want to be a problem. Those are the rules. If you break them, I’ll have to speak to Goldenstar about postponing your apprenticeship or something.” 

“What?!” Despair lumped in Fogkit’s throat. “You can’t do that!”

“Watch me, young lady,” said Oddstripe with an edge of a growl in his voice. With that, he turned away and went to rejoin Slatekit and Barleypaw near the effigy. Fogkit wanted to tear the thing to shreds or storm off into the fields or hit Oddstripe really, really hard but the looming threat of being delayed kept her from stepping outside. 

It wasn’t fair, she thought again. Her mama went off and got killed and now she was getting punished for it. She stomped around the nursery looking for something to break or thrash or ruin. The only thing there was the nest she and Slatekit shared, the one that still smelled faintly of her mama. She screamed at the unfairness of it all. She fell on the ground and writhed in circles, screaming and sobbing as loudly as she could. If she had to hurt like this, she felt like everyone deserved to know about it. 

She sank her claws into the base of the wall and pulled herself along it, tearing out clots of dirt with her hind claws. She pushed herself to go faster and faster. When she reached the entrance, she rolled over and went back the other way. After a few loops, she collapsed halfway through, completely exhausted, and lay flat on her stomach. A high, keening cry built up in her chest and seeped out between big, wet gasps for air. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Eventually she got tired of crying and went to sit in the entrance of the den. She wanted to go out but she also didn’t and she knew that if anyone made her angry she might end up getting held back so she hunkered down on the boundary instead. She watched the others finish adorning the effigy with flowers and pine branches. 

Once they were done, they called everyone together and the whole Clan gathered around the stupid piece of wood. Even Scorchplume and Aldertail came to sit on opposite edges of the clearing. Goldenstar said some ceremony things and invited other people to start talking. 

Pantherhaze told a long, boring story and finished with, “Smokyrose was the kindest cat I ever knew. Her absence will be sorely felt… May StarClan light her way.” There were a series of nods and mumbled agreements then a moment of silence. Fogkit huffed sourly.

Russetfrond cleared his throat and said, “She was like a second mother to me. She, uh… She never had any expectations for you, just love. Whatever you were, that was enough.” He let out a shaky breath. Fogkit scowled. She’d never even seen him stop by the nursery to say hi to her mama, what right did he have to get all sad about it? 

“Yeah,” said Goldenstar. “She was the best of us.” 

There was another long pause. Fogkit’s attention started to wander, unable to keep staring at all of these people’s sullen faces. Unexpectedly, she locked eyes with the kittypet sitting in the entrance to the elders’ den. Floodpaw was sitting guard next to her, attention fixed on the strange funeral, but the kittypet was staring right at her. Fogkit frowned.

The kittypet smiled lopsidedly and waved a paw, looking worried but hopeful. Fogkit frowned deeper. 

“Did you want to say anything, Slatekit?” she heard Barleypaw ask. Her attention immediately moved back to her sister. Slatekit glanced back over her shoulder to look at Fogkit as well. Guilt pooled in Fogkit’s mouth at the sight of her sister’s worried expression. 

“Um…” Slatekit looked back at the effigy and said, “I miss her.” Barleypaw and a few other cats nodded. 

Goldenstar looked over at the nursery and called gently, “Did you wanna come say something, Fogkit?” Fogkit shook her head. “Okay.” 

There was another long pause and then Goldenstar said, “Well, Smokyrose, wherever you are, we wish you well. May you find good hunting in StarClan.” Several of the other cats meowed their agreement. 

“Okay, Slatekit,” Barleypaw said, “we’re gonna take the flowers over to the graves now, yeah?” 

“Yeah, okay,” said Slatekit. She and Barleypaw started gathering up the flowers they had spent so long organizing and making pretty. Fogkit shook her head. What a stupid thing to do.

The kittypet was watching her again. She could tell the grown up was thinking and that made her pelt crawl. Shaking herself, she retreated into the den and curled up in the solitary nest. Feeling heavy and hollow at the same time, she curled around herself and shut her eyes. She just wanted to sleep now, to stop being here and now. 

After a while, Slatekit came inside and curled up next to her. Fogkit sniffled and wiggled closer to the warmth of her sister’s body and suddenly she felt Slatekit wrapping her paws around her neck. 

“I love you, Fogkit,” she said.

Fogkit sniffled and started to cry.

It wasn’t fair.

[wintfleur]

i’m sure these are things that you’ll write about/touch on eventually but i’ll just send in my initial thoughts regardless-

how do they get together?

does the public ever find out about it themselves? (even though juliette is private abt relationships)

what’re the dynamics like between them?

how do they tell their families they’re all a thing?

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

a/n ﹒ Hi nonnie and yes I will be talking about most of these in the future, strictly because I’m honestly not too sure on how I’m going to have everything play out because I’m still planning things !! So like I said, I am still working on this, so the answers may change in the future !

also omg i totally misread ‘how did they get together’ to ‘how did they meet’ . . . besides I wanna keep that as a surprise for now x

𐙚 Auston introduced Juliette and Mat at a party in 2021 and there was obviously some sexual tension between them but nothing happened . . . okay maybe a small kiss on a balcony was shared but that was it . . . Juliette met Quinn when she went to a Canucks game in 2021, they met before the game when her manager and the Canucks Pr agent wanted her and Quinn to meet up and film a small video (meeting, Quinn giving her his signed jersey) In my au, Mat and Quinn are best friends, they have known each other for years.

𐙚 I do want the public to find out about them! I’m just not sure how that’s going to happen yet. I do know that the fans do have suspicions from the soft launches, like the faceless pictures she posts for the boys and the faceless pictures of her that they post. the public already knows that Quinn and Mat are best friends so it’s not strange to see them posting each other . . . Some fans think Juliette is with Mat and some think she’s with Quinn, some fans think Mat and Quinn are together . . . it will be a shocker when they find out there all together! . . . Julie has gotten a big amount of hate throughout the soft launch era because some fans can tell that there are two different boys in her pictures.

𐙚 I will be saying more of their dynamics in there couple profile. But I see Mat as being the more dominant one in the relationship, and Quinn being a switch while Julie is more of a sub leaning switch. Mat and Quinn are both talkers, while Julie listens. They are all big spoons and little spoons, it’s always changing. Mat’s love language is physical touch, Quinn’s love language is words of affirmation, and Juliette’s is gift giving. Two tall bf’s and a shorter gf.

𐙚 I feel like Mat and Quinn’s family already knew about them before they told them, and when they did, they were very supportive and happy for them. Julie’s family were shocked at first because they didn’t expect it, but they were also very supportive. I think k they would tell there family’s on there own, it’s something new and they aren’t so sure on what there family’s reactions would be, so they wanted to do it themselves just in case.

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker )

©️WINTFLEUR

[eggcompany]

Peter, Wear are my Pants?

Peter steals a lot (A LOT) of Tony's clothes. He didn't realize doing so would end up with a new daddy and feeding his 'weird' kinks.

“Hey Peter have you seen my black sweatpants with the red stripes?” Tony asked as he stood in front of his closet. Peter was sitting on the edge of their bed playing on his phone. He was wearing a pair of Tony’s underwear and Tony’s T-shirt under one of Tony’s white button ups that was much too big for him.

“Um uh no” Peter said nervously. He knew exactly where those pants were. They were in Peters closet along with most of Tony’s sweats and sweaters and hoodies and T-shirts.

Tony tuned around and have Peter a look that said “really?”

“Peter, you are wearing my clothes right now. Where are my pants? Do I have to go through your closet until I find them?”

Peter really really didn’t want Tony to go through his closet right now. Not today. He hadn’t cleaned in a while and there might be a dildo or two on his floor. Oh god, his panties are on the floor too and on top of his dresser. And he definitely didn’t want Tony going through his drawers...

“No! No I um I’ll go. I’ll get them. I’m sorry...” Peter said quickly as he stood up.

“Thank you, baby. Now hurry back so we can go have breakfast.” Tony said as he pulled on a old worn t shirt that he really hadn’t seen in a long time but he couldn’t find anymore of his other shirts...

Peter was already in his room when he heard it. Footsteps coming through his bedroom.

Before he could say to stay out of his closet the doors where opening.

“Peter I need my shir- oh.”

Peter was throwing his panties in one of his drawers before even looking what was in the drawer. Peter looked up at the older man with big wide eyes.

“Aw baby what’re putting those away for? Oh quite the collection there huh baby” Tony said as he walked closer to the younger man who, looked down at his hands shoving a few pairs of baby blue panties into his- god damnit- his toy drawer.

“No no no! Don’t look don’t look!” Peter panicked and tried to close the drawer but he couldn’t get it closed and tears started to prickle his eyes. He had barley started to sleep with Tony! He couldn’t know about... about Peters weird kinks!

Peter was full out crying on his floor trying to shove the drawer closed.

“He’s gonna hate me! Why did this happen? Everything’s ruined! Everything’s ruined and daddy’s gonna hate me!” Peter thought or at least he thought he was just thinking it.

“Peter, baby, nothing’s ruined! You’re okay, it’s all okay, daddy’s here. That’s what you want right? You want daddy? I don’t hate you, baby. Shh shh shh. Oh my baby, bambino stop crying.” Peter was full out crying still as Tony got down to hold Peter against his chest in his lap. Tony rocked him back and forth trying to soothe his boyfriend.

Peter processed the words slowly but eventually got them. He looked up at Tony with such a sweet look. Tony almost melted.

“You-you’re n-not gross-ed out?” Peter said as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. He had the shirt pulled to give himself shirt paws, a habit Tony loves. Tony smiled down at him.

“Never grossed out at you, baby. You want me to be your daddy?” Tony kissed his boys forehead. Peter looked at him in awe.

“You wanna be my daddy? But but you saw...” Peter glanced back at his still open drawer. Panties and pastel plugs and gem ended toys and oh god his tail plug. Tony would never like that.

Tony used two fingers to push Peters face back to look at him.

“Yes, bambino. I wanna be your daddy. Yes I see the drawer. Cute stuff you got there. Wanna show me some of them? We can talk about it.” Tony said in a very dominant way. Leaving no room for argument Peter looked back at Ton- Daddy.

“I ca-can show you some... daddy ‘m nervous.” Peter fidgeted with his sleeves. Tony slid the younger down so he was sitting on the floor instead of his lap

Tony cooed lightly at him.

“Daddy loves you baby. Don’t be nervous, I just wanna know what you like.” Tony looked exactingly at his baby.

“Oh-okay. Okay. Um I have my panties... I like these ones...”