#and I think she just hooks up w a lot of guys to just like fill a void

[floorpancakes]

i refuse to let clamp off the hook for underutilising himawari's fucking fascinating character setup and traits but on a less serious level im obsessed with the concept of her as an instigator of chaos.

like she's way less airheaded than she seems and it doesn't come off like Default Airhead Girl Behaviour or even Default Girl Companion That Ships Her Friends primarily (like not as hard as some other series by comparison I mean she's very I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE by default) specifically she just seems like someone that thoroughly enjoys being a little shit in a sincere way and giggling at her dumbass friends and has a shade of high emotional intelligence about it all. like she's just girl of all time. she's i don't know where im going with this just take this low effort meme from when i watched the holic stage play on youtube this isn't a coherent thought it's like 2am ill come up with better thoughts later

[bixy]

There's no way to say this without sounding weird but I think my most attractive/hottest friends are the worst communicators because they'll do whatever but people always forgive them no matter what just bc they're hot

(also when i mean hot i mean generic normie hot that’s kinda bland to me but a lot of people are into and men throw themselves at)

[thewingedwolf]

no one cares about my opinion but my opinion is tiffany knows kyland has not stayed in a serious relationship for long so why is she so dead set on beefing with every girl he hooks up with bc she’s gonna have no friends with the rate that man goes at lol. i think it’s fine if this made her realize they are not the epic love story she clearly wanted them to be and deletes all the pictures she has of them together (we’ve all been there i get it) but if she’s actually mad at taylor over it, it’s a little eh. tiff pls you are too grown to be mad your ex situationship of nearly two years may or may not have hooked up with a mutual friend.

[san8ny]

'HOLD IT DOWN, DARE!,

"You've got to press it on you, you've just been thinking!"

WARNINGS: mutual consent to recording, kissing, nervousness on Ellie’s part, size kink, dacryphilia, a bit of pretentiousness on readers end, tribbing/scissoring, strapping, lots of foreplay in the beginning, barely plot, slapping (both on face and..elsewhere), Ellie quite literally gets feelings fucked into her, hair-pulling, praise, cum-eating, spit-play, Reader collects donations while Ellie goes dumb on a machine at one point, JUST a buncha whores tbh..lmk what i miss k?

“so..” you murmur, picking up your phone and going through the settings, apps—anything to make this moment a bit bareable,

“so!” She chirps back, green eyes sheening over with excitement, trying to not let the scenery of the dingy denny’s you were both in distract you from all the comments that led up to this very moment.

The girl across from you clears her throat, cracking a small smile as she places her own phone facedown, “I..uh, have never, like..—like, done this ever so it’s..”She trails off, nervously scratching her neck

You feign faux shock at this, picking up a small fry inbetween your own acrylic nails from her tray with a small ‘no? ..really?’ as you pop it into your mouth, chewing as you stare her down, “never?”

“Never.” She gulps, hoping you don’t catch the way she rubs her thighs together pathetically at the sarcastic pout you had on, she had it bad.

You hum a bit as you nod your head, “Hm..that’ll bring in more views. You’re not like..you’re not like a virgin..right?”

Silence.

“No..” She chuckles, “Funny story, I lost it at—“

“Don’t care. Anyways, your place or mine?” You swiftly cut her off, smiling as you tilt your pretty little head up at her, almost as if you didn’t rudely interrupt her,

“W-we can do min—“

“Mine it is.” You interrupt her once more, digging into your purse and taking out a compact mirror before snapping it close when you decide you look presentable to leave,

“Tomorrow at 7?” You reiterate as you lift yourself out of the booth chair,

“Yeah..yeah, 7 AM?”

..

“No, in the PM, who makes porn in the morning?”

“I-it was a joke..” Ellie nervously coughs, clasping her palms

“Oh. Ohhhh..good joke. Bye Nellie!” You wave as you pat her shoulder on the way out,

“it’s..Ellie.” The auburnette sighs, evidently star-struck and dazed as she caresses the shoulder you’d just given her the glory as to graze, her eyes fixed on the way heads turn as you make your way out of the door, some dudes going out of there way to open it for you,

“Guess Nellie is a good name too.” She shrugs, jerking back some more fries.

That following week, Ellie sits comfortably on your bed, though a bit stiff when you begin to roll the cameras.

“Nervous?” You whisper, walking on over to where she sat, nodding softly when you run your fingers up and down her calves.

“That’s okay, sweetgirl, ‘just focus on me..” You utter under your breath, beginning to kiss down her neck ever so gently like she were to break; to say Ellie was calm was an understatement, she was absolutely about to break her composure each time she felt your lips on her skin.

Like that, the donations start pinging.

“Why don’t you read some of the comments out f’me?” Ellie groans, cocking her neck back as your palms begin massaging her breasts under the t-shirt she had on, nonetheless, she obliges, with reading a few of the earlier ones out.

“T-they’re calling me a whore..” She says breathlessly, her chest heaving as you begin to push her onto your bed.

“And are you?”

She hesitates before nodding her head.

It’s minutes before your entire demeanor with her switches, cruely making her sit inbetween your legs infront of the camera as you laugh in her face, “God..look how wet she’s got already?’ This is who you wanted over Anderson? You guys amuse me..”

Ellie’s head rests on your shoulder as you play with her messy folds, hooking a finger on the elastic band and letting it go with a snap, she looks already so out of it by the time you lay her back down, spreading her thighs as you align your face with her mound,

“She’s actually such a slut..” You croon your head to the side, leaning in to read the comments,

“Slap her?” You laugh at the suggestion, turning back to Ellie, “I don’t think my dirty girl minds, no?” Ellie whines, shaking her head as you harshly slap her cunt with 2 fingers, giggling when she raises her hips up to meet the impact in sheer desperation, “Send like, a hundred and maybe i’ll eat her out, deal?”

Just like that, 500 hundred dollars is directly sent as the text-to-speech automator blares off,

“Ooh, 500? Guess i’ll have to give you really good head, baby.” You fake-pout as you pull her panties off, “She’s so swollen..” You sigh, leaning back and taking some aloe-gel out of your cubby, returning to lay on your own tummy inbetween her legs as you slather the cooling ointment across her slit.

“P-please just get— ah..” Ellie trails off, eyes slightly fluttering shut when she feels your wet muscle prod at her cunt, messily swiping around like a credit card as your nose meets her hidden clit,

“Mm, tastes so good..”

You reach your arms forward, bunching up her shirt and pulling it up as you knead her small tits, nipples cold from the sudden air hitting them,

Ellie feels like she’s going to orgasm already when she gently raises her upperbody with her elbows, head feeling heavy when she makes direct eye-contact you.

It’s a messy scene, really, from the way you dart your tongue in and out of her sopping pussy to the way the girl rubs her cunt all over your face, she hasn’t felt this good since..well, ever

and here she was, sharing this moment with the hottest girl ever and her 200k followers.

“Y’wu still twhere?” you slur your words, face buried inbetween the chub of Ellie’s thighs with no escape as you snap your fingers, Ellie nods, crying out when you slam your said fingers into her unsuspecting hole with no ease,

You quickly sit up, digits still buried as you wrap an arm around her waist to secure her— your fingers pistoning into her pussy at a rate Ellie would equate to light-speed, “G—gonna! G’na!” Her eyes widen, feeling a hot burning sensation churn like molting lava in her stomach, hitting her fast when she begins to see white

You ignore her, shutting her up with a kiss as she absolutely drenches the bed, cum spurting out in twitches; you don’t let up on the prompted assault, simply holding her down firmer as she babbles uncontrollably,

Once it rides out, you take some deep breaths and drag a finger down your wet face, soiled with none other than Ellie’s fingers as you hold them to her. “Say ‘ahh’, doll.’ You say, humming when Ellie opens her mouth graciously, pressing them on her tongue as she threatens to moan, tasting herself.

“gooood girl...” You preen sitting up, untying your robe, “I’m feeling a bit jealous here, ellie. I made you feel good, only fair I get some in return.”

1,000USD SENT: lol scissor.

Ellie feels a moan errupt deep in her throat, thanking the gods at whatever subscriber requested that, finally about to feel your own swollen clit on hers,

excitement paints her face as you straddle her, her leg tossed on your shoulder as your pussies meet, kissing as both of your breaths hitch,

“Ah! Mm, god, feels so good..” You moan, arching your back slightly as Ellie’s lips form an O, gasping at just how warm and wet you were;

“Uh! Uh! Uh!— B-baby! Ohmygod ohmygod?!—“ She finds you shoving her leg off and instead pressing both of them to her chest as you rut into her,

This would be a long stream.

Ping!

“Another one thank you.”

Ping!

“Another one thank you.”

Ping!

“Another— gosh guys, I’m getting tired of thanking you all.” You chuckle, lips glistening with the sucker’s syrup as it’s wrapped around your lips, the noises of machinery in the back clear as day, “Oh Ellie? Yeah, she’s fineeee, ‘arentcha babe!” you spin in your swivel chair to face her,

she was flat on her stomach, arch backed up as the machine fucks a gorgeous silicone cock into her— drool pooling at the pillow her face was buried into as she hums shakingly, cum cascading down her thighs and onto your ruined sheets in a waterfall like motion,

You shake your head as you lean down to kiss her wet lips, petting her hair as you both sloppily makeout, exchanging saliva, “My pretty girl..you’ve had enough, yeah? So so so pretty when you cry..” to which Ellie nods, tired with her cheeks stained with unshed tears straining her dry-eyes,

“She’s cameeee…er, how many times now?” You ask the viewers,

@e11ie0: 10!

@Dickmaxxer: 8!

@Notmyrodrick5: just joined, hot tho

After some minutes and Ellie becoming increasingly overstimulated, you decide it’s enough money for one day,

Giving your followers a warm goodbye, you end the stream— shortly, also turning off the machine.

“D-did I do good? Did we meet the goal? Was I better than her?“ She whispers, almost afraid of her own raspy voice as you pull her off the machine and onto your lap, “Huh? Better tha— Oh..Abby? Fuck, so much better..” You soothe, kissing the crown of her head,

Sitting in silence with your warm plush arms around her, she meets your gaze with a certain softness,

“You’re really pretty you know..” She heaves, still catching her breath,

“so i’ve been told..”

“and I think I like you..alot..” She manages to let slip out, before shutting her eyes— this, this was why she’d never collabed with anyone. She falls too hard, and now you were going to push her away and hate her and shit-talk her and—

“Do you now?” you softly murmur, tracing along ellie’s forearm tattoo.

She peers up at you with teary eyes, “Can I stay over? I-i know it’s weird because collabs are—“

“Ellie, I wasn’t planning to kick you out.” You say, carrying her over to your bathroom for some well-needed aftercare and a good sleep.

"..You know my name," she finally says to herself in a hushed tonebbefore knocking out.

Safe to say your streams incorporated Ellie alot more now.

TAGLIST:

@macaroni676 , @mystellenia , @seraphicsentences , @sleepy-sheep-things @tohoko , @bearomanoff18 , @ellieswife4ever , @elliezlils11utt , @love4lyn , @sleepy-sheep-things @cattjull @strangepuppywerewolf, @emst4rr

[julietsbody]

thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 

semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!

typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 

luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 

“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.

“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 

“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 

“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 

“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 

“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 

the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 

“why’d you say that to him—“ 

“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 

“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 

“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 

“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 

“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 

“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 

he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 

you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 

“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 

“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 

he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.” 

[lewisvinga]

older | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

summary; with the real ease of y/n’s ep, ‘older’ , everyone goes crazy trying to figure out who she is writing about

fc; maggie lindemann

warnings; age gap , cursing, mentions of sexual themes

notes; requested! n yes it’s similar to agora hills ! also the way i <3 to write abt dating older men should be studied

taglist; @namgification

masterlist !

liked by yourbestfriend, and others

yourusername: older, out now 🖤

yourbestfriend: bitch I FUCKING LOVE THISSS🥴🥴🥴🥴👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yourbestfriend: tell him to hook me up w one of his friends too ( specifically someone older )🤗🤗🙏🙏🤪🤪

yourusername: LMFAOO, he said he got u

username: OMG

username: thank u mother for serving once again

username: i think abt u w older pls give me a chance

username: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER😩

username: ok but what’s up w yourbestfriend’s comment?? who are u dating??? an old man????

yourusername: ok he’s not an old old man per se, he’s just… a lot older 😁

username: WHAT

username: the sexiest singer itw liked by yourusername!

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others

yourusername: me n my sexy old man who can please me better than guys my age 🔥🔥

tagged; danielricciardo

danielricciardo: awh come on now, sunshine, i’m not that old! just 10 years older!

yourusername: hmmmmm

yourbestfriend: hook me up w an old rich man like u and i can change her mind

danielricciardo: deal!

danielricciardo: last part is very true & i take pride in it 😌

yourusername: 🙈

danielricciardo: love you ❤️

yourusername: love you 🫶

username: OMG YOUR EP WAS ABT DANIEL RICCIARDO??

username: his grip on her in the 5th picture 🥴🥴😵‍💫😵‍💫

username: i get dangerous woman now bc i too would sing like that if i was fucking daniel ricciardo 😩

username: how did we not catch this, they’ve been following each other for ages 😭

landonorris: gross

yourusername: ur just sad bc i said guys my age can’t please me

landonorris: IVE HOOKED UP W PLENTY OF GIRLS I AM GOOD

yourbestfriend: i volunteer as tribute??

yourusername: do u want an old man or not

yourbestfriend: he’s older than me by 2 months instead of 10 years 🥴

danielricciardo: aren’t you the one who set us up?

yourbestfriend: so can u hook me up w someone or not

danielricciardo: i told u i am ok it

yourusername: that’s my old man❤️‍🔥

username: screaming crying throwing up

username: do u guys need a third??? 🤔🤔

username: i wanna be in between them so bad

username: y/n is sooo right, older men>>> liked by yourusername !

[facefullofsadness]

ever think about car sex with aeri... yeah, I do, a lot

I most certainly do too anon... a lot. ooouuu the au concepts to go alongside car sex with aeri are quite literally countless like I can envision after a dinner party w designer!giselle (she's been occupying my mind for weeks guys idk I wanna make like a miniseries on that aeri-), hooking up with stranger!giselle from the club in the parking lot, stepsis!giselle taking u out for an *innocent* midnight drive but u can't take ur hands off one another, bully!giselle putting u in ur place after u refused to do her hw, ugh I could go on and fucking on.

but for today, let's paint the picture of bestie!aeri. it's summer vacation and you both are bored at 2 am, deciding to go out on a joy ride with your bestfriend who you've been crushing on for fucking ever, and what's a friendship without mutual yearning accompanied by intense flirting and affection to make each other confused right? blasting music with the windows down as u both sing ur heart out to u and aeri's shared playlist (gay), both of your outfits leave little to imagination, sheer and flimsy tops with unbearably short shorts, it's hot as fuck so sweat gleams on ur guys' skin, shining from the street lamps and moonlight.

but the tension? my god it's insane. when the tone of the music shifts as sensual rnb plays rhythmically on the speakers, you look at aeri and holy fuck she looks god-like. the sheen on her milky skin from her perspiration, her messy hair clinging to her body, her arms toned perfectly clutching on the steering wheel, the way her tank top hugged her chest and waist deliciously, her juicy thighs on full display, and her lips plump red after licking them locking eyes with you at the stoplight. you were so dizzy, the ache in your core throbbing from the mixture of adrenaline and js looking at your best friend. u watched as she pushed her hair back with her big veiny hand, threading her fingers through her messy hair, still staring shamelessly as she drove into an empty parking lot.

doesn't take long for her to grab you by the neck (choking you) and pull your head forward towards her, making a choked noise, practically a whimper. her smirk and eyes are filled with lustful intent, your eyes watering with need as you beg her to take you in every way with your dazed expression, and so she does. the sex is messy and oh so desperate. even with the car ac, you both can't help but to feel so hot, even if you're fully naked. her hands are js as greedy as yours, clutching grabbing grasping scratching at skin, pulling each other as close as physically possible.

moans fill the car as you finger each other, your digits drilling in and out of your friend's pussy, her's mimicking your movements, need evident on your faces. forehead to forehead with her as you both release pleasurable noises onto each other's mouths, on her lap as one hand is in her hair, the other thrusting into her, her hand digging into your waist as she fucks you with no remorse. cumming insanely hard on each other, immediately switching to rubbing clits tgt, using each other's slick to slide on the other's pussy. the sensations are so intense and yet neither of you care that it's too soon, that the overstimulation was too much, you both needed each other in an almost primal way, like two animals in heat.

most certainly filled with love bombs, confessing how much she's needed this, how badly she's been waiting for you, how much she has thought about doing this, and you reciprocate the sentiments, rambling against her tongue about dreaming of this day, touching yourself thinking of her, being addicted to everything that has to do with her. every climax you both would slur I love yous repeatedly, screaming each other's names and holding each other close. so much panting, moaning, pathetic begging from both like fuck you feel so good please don't fucking stop or I'm so close I'm so close just a little more please please. her taste is js as sweet as her name on your tongue, and you couldn't wait to get more, never having nearly enough. an exciting summer indeed.

[macfrog]

backspin | bbf!frankie

surprise! we're taking a quick detour to fuck around with our brother's best friend again. what else is new.

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x fem!reader summary: you try to get even with frankie. it works. warnings: reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, enemies to lovers, mention of throwing up, alcohol consumption, cursing, oral, more dickhead frankie and more sassy reader word count: 6.3k

part one: rack 'em | main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

So, you fucked around with Frankie.

It’s no big deal, right? It was just a one-time thing. There was tension, you guys relieved it. Scratched an itch. Served a purpose. You still fucking hate the guy, and he still fucking hates you.

Nothing’s changed.

Right?

Mal sprays wine all over the kitchen table when you tell her. Gargles a, Sorry – fuck – sorry, through what little of the alcohol is left in her mouth.

You wipe your face clean in the crook of your elbow. It’s in your fucking eyelashes. You blink the room back into focus, and – “Jesus, Mal!”

Dark droplets teeter around the edge of the table, threatening to plunge straight down onto your mom’s chair cushions – thus damning you to her very own personal hell for all eternity. You can feel the flames licking at your feet already.

Your best friend rips a sheet of paper towel and drags it over the wood – white bleeding violet at the first swipe. “Why’d you tell me as I was taking a sip?”

“I didn’t think you’d fucking hose me down,” you hiss, taking the soaked crumple from her hands.

“You didn’t think I’d be a little surprised that you and Catfish Morales hooked up? Are you fucking ser–? Actually, you know what? I’m not that surprised.”

You glare at her from the sink, upper lip curled.

Mallory Bennett has been privy to your every thought since you were six years old. Hand in hand, arms swinging as you marched into first grade together.

Most days, you barely have to open your mouth – one flinching expression, one flash of eye contact, and she can parrot your own thoughts back to you.

Francisco Morales going down on you two nights ago is the first thing you’ve ever had to confess to her. It’s the first thing she never saw coming.

“Shut up,” you breathe, eventually thawing and sweeping over to your chair. The table sticks to your arms when you sit back down.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, alright? A lot of tension. I mean, you gotta fuckin’ feel it. You two hate each other’s guts! And you’re both single, and you’re only here for two weeks. And – he’s Santi’s best friend. It’s just…it’s the perfect storm.”

Another exasperated sigh passes your lips. You settle back, eyes closed, and lift your palm. “Enough. I’ve heard enough.”

“You wouldn’t’ve told me if you didn’t wanna talk about it. Was he good?”

“Mal.”

“Was he?”

“I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.” Her face screws up; the gold hoops wobble from her ears. “Like hell you don’t remember. Tell me.”

Your eyes slip from her over to Ange. The old pup pushes herself to her feet with a huff, her joints stiff and bones frail. She moseys over to your side. You scratch the back of the dog’s neck, shrugging to Mal.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way to a free round of drinks, I’d remember enough to share.”

“Fuck you,” she snorts, voice rounded by her wine glass. “Maybe that just means you gotta do it again – sober.”

You scoff.

Angie looks up at you – watery eyes blinking, tail slowly fanning.

Mal’s already recounting the time Frankie snitched on the two of you for raiding your mom’s makeup bag. She waves her hands in the air, eyes bulging.

Do it again. The thought actually makes you want to laugh.

You and Frankie – you and Catfish, hooking up again. As if the first time wasn’t a total mishap, the biggest mistake in judgement you think you’ve ever made.

He drove you home, he made you come, he left.

One nil, right? You have one up on him. You got yours, and he probably went home and jerked off to the thought of it. Alone in his room, tongue licking at the corners of his mouth where he could still taste your release.

You won.

You won, against Frankie Morales.

“…and then fuckin’ – Pope tried to help us tidy it up, remember? He was scrubbing the hell outta the lipstick on the mirror. But that asshole – Frankie,” she seethes, “he went downstairs as soon as your mom came home. As soon as she…And he fucking ratted!”

She growls, balls her fists. Screws her eyes tight shut like the enraged eight-year-old she was back then. She still has the same little crease between her brows. “What the hell got into you that night? We hate him, junior!”

Ange slumps to the floor with a sigh.

“Me too, girl,” you mutter to her, twirling the base of your glass. You look back up at the crazed woman opposite. “I don’t know,” you insist. “I was drunk, we were on our own…It just happened, alright?”

Her shoulders roll in a shrug. She lifts her glass to clink the neck of the bottle against the rim, purple wine spilling in a swirl. “Maybe it’s the start of something.”

You scoff. “Mal. Come on.”

“I’m serious. Perfect storm.”

“Nope. No storm. Stop that.”

She jabs a tipsy finger in your direction. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you messed around with your arch fucking menesis– arch fucking…with – with Frankie, and you just – still feel nothing for him?”

“No,” you admit, “I feel plenty for him. I hate his fucking guts. I used to wish every birthday that he’d disappear. One time in church, when Father Joseph told everybody to bow their heads ‘n pray, I actually asked God to kill him for me.”

“Not Father Joseph!” Mal shrieks, grinning. “He was so fucking hot, by the way, for a dude with no hair. When the sunlight caught that cueball just right…that was a real fucking miracle. Goddamn.”

You bat her snicker away. “Me and Frankie used to brawl so bad that our moms had to separate us,” you continue. “I had to sit in the front seat if we drove anywhere – and that still didn’t stop him! He’d reach around the headrest and flick my fucking ear.”

“You gave as good as you got, though. I’m surprised he can even still get hard, the number of times your foot…” She swings her leg and kicks your thigh softly. “He was an ass, I know.”

“He was an ass then, he’s still an ass now. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Mal concedes. Her dark, glossy hair surfs around the lip of her wine glass when she leans in. “But you wouldn’t’ve told me unless it was still on your mind. ‘s all I’m saying.”

You throw yourself back with a quick, angry shake of your head. Your tongue flicks over your top lip.

“All I’m saying,” she repeats, holding her hands up.

But I won, you think – in a petulant little whine. Like you could shake your fists and stamp your feet at the same time. You got one up on him. He – he made you…

He made you come. He saw you. Felt you. Tasted you.

He knows what you sound like, whimpering his fucking name. Drunk on him, begging him not to stop. And now, the image of him fisting his cock over the memory of it feels less like a victory, and more like –

Another fucking loss.

You have no idea what he looks like, coming undone. No clue what his fragmented moans sound like as they tear from the bottom of his throat and rain down over you. You don’t know the weight of him in your hands, the wet slip of his tip as he leaks over your tongue.

Mal’s onto something new. Taken by a Facebook post from some girl you went to high school with. Biggest head I ever saw on a fucking baby, she mutters, wincing and then sprinkling a handful of salted peanuts on her tongue.

Frankie’s cocky smirk clouds over the sight of her at the opposite end of your kitchen table.

Francisco fucking Morales. The asshole wins again.

All at once, you hear his rotten little jeers in your ear – curbed painfully by his middle finger searing across your lobe. You feel his heavy palm on your skull, fingers scrunching roughly into your scalp.

A temper boils between your ears, heavy over your head. It feels juvenile, as if it’s armed with a Barbie in one fist and a juice box in the other. Sunken and wallowing in shame and rage, red-hot waves which wash over you as Mal cackles at some video on her phone.

You feel Frankie’s hands around your legs; the flicks of his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. The swarm of butterflies deep in your belly as you watched his figure swagger back across the street to his truck.

Loss after loss after loss. Each one wearing a satisfied smirk and a Standard Oil baseball cap.

Each one staining deeper than red wine in varnished oak.

You grit your teeth.

Frankie –

fucking –

Morales.

Santi floats the idea of a barbecue. Because of course he fucking does.

He says his place is too small, too many neighbors in earshot – and as long as Ms. Teller takes both hearing aids out, she won’t even know it’s happening.

“Just the guys ‘n us,” he chirps. “You, me, Will, Benny…Fran-kie…?”

You gag down the line. Body instinct whenever his name is mentioned, worsened by the latest developments in your relations. Ange glances up from her spot beneath the oak tree – her milky fur stark against the velvet green grass.

Santi chokes on a laugh. “Mal, too, if that helps with the Catfish thing.”

You lean the phone on your collarbone, sitting forward to apply a second coat of polish to your toes. The red gloss shines in the early morning light. “He is not welcome in my house.”

“First off: not your house. Second –”

“My house for the next eleven days.”

He says your name flatly. It sounds like a door being slammed. It shuts you up as though you’re nine again. “…Second: he won’t be in the house. He’ll be in the backyard.”

“You owe me,” you protest. “For ditching me the other night. I’m cashing in, Santiago. You want a cookout? No Frankie.”

Your brother sighs. “And how am I supposed to explain that to him, hermana?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Santi mutters something incoherent, though you know from the razor-sharp tone of voice that it’s no compliment. Still – he’s a man of his word.

Eventually he agrees: no Frankie at the barbecue.

The store is chilly, plucking goosebumps along your arms.

You round the aisles, scanning your list. You’ve been battling with a janky front wheel which has squealed and veered off-course at every fucking turn. It almost mowed over an elderly woman in the meat aisle.

You’ve cleared most of what Santi told you to get. Drinks, ice, buns, meat, corn on the cob. He wanted to use Mom’s dinner plates – but that, you countered, runs the risk of them being scraped, chipped, or worst of all, smashed.

That’s not a risk you’re willing to take. So you’ve piled in some paper plates and plastic cutlery, too – just to be on the safe side.

The cashier cuts a familiar figure at the checkout: her navy apron and full-cheek grin. She’s a staple sight from your childhood – a pair of dimples and sweet giggle trailing after you as you’d follow your mom’s skirt back out to the parking lot.

Her eyes widen and she clasps her hands when she notices you approaching. “Well, would you look who it is?” she sings.

“Hey, Pol,” you say, fanning yourself with your scrawled shopping list. “How you doing?”

The belt jolts your supplies closer to her bejeweled fingers.

“Same as always, honey. Rockin’ and rollin’. What brings you back to town?”

“Housesitting, dog-sitting…Santi-sitting. Mom and Dad are on a cruise.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding. “She told me last week. Caribbean, right?”

You nod, sucking a deep, unenthused breath in.

Pol hums, smiling to herself as she clicks the barcode for your hotdogs into her computer. She begins telling you what her granddaughter thinks of second grade – her two times table and the tadpoles they’re keeping in class.

Your eyes sweep around the store as she chats. Everything looks the way it always did, a time capsule from the nineties. Speckled floor and fluorescent lights; placards hanging overhead which sway each time the great glass doors pull open.

Baskets of fruit and veg lined alongside a lawn set on offer. Beside that, heaps of flowers and stacked planters. Beside those, a discarded shopping cart. And beside that –

Frankie fucking Morales.

Well – the silhouette of him. It’s pretty bright outside. But you’d recognize the outline of that dumb baseball cap anywhere. He’s talking to one of the assistants.

You hand Pol the cash Santiago gave you, and she trades it for a receipt. Dumping your bags back into your cart, you nod to her in thanks and stalk off towards the sliding doors.

Frankie tosses and twirls a pack of cigarettes in his hand. The assistant is telling him about some big college football game.

Your grip tightens on the janky-wheeled cart. You feel your skin begin to heat; prickling all over your arms, flushing down between your shoulder blades. Gathering somewhere south of there.

But you walk by him with purpose, choosing to ignore that warm feeling. Choosing to ignore…him.

He doesn’t turn. Thankfully.

The doors grant you exit and you give your cart one good shove across the threshold, back out into blinding daylight and sticky heat.

“Alright, man,” Frankie’s voice calls from behind. “Good talkin’ to ya.”

You nail your eye on the car. It’s, like, fifteen paces. You can make it fifteen steps without having to deal with him, right? If you take longer strides, it’s probably more like ten.

Ten steps, and then you’re in the sanctuary of your car. You don’t have to see, speak to, or deal with him.

So why are you slowing down?

You’re slowing down. You are. You’re borderline fucking loitering. Quietly hoping he’ll notice, catch up, maybe talk to –

You click the unlock button. The car beeps in response.

Five steps out. The front wheel is rattling. You’re doing your best to ignore it.

Four.

Three.

The wheel spins, flitting like a confused compass needle, and stops dead in the opposite direction. The cart hurtles out of your grip for less than a second before you recover it and haul it close to your car, cursing under your breath.

But a force – stronger, steadier – reaches around your body and takes hold of the thing. It guides it back to course. A force which, when it speaks, sounds a shit ton like –

“Woah, lil Santi,” Frankie mutters, and your chest leaps.

You freeze in your tracks. His weight is still around your back. He’s right fucking there, when you turn to look.

The brim of his cap bumps against your head. He steps back with a smirk on his face. He’s so fucking smug, you could slap him. “You tryna cause a goddamn accident with that thing?”

You pull a disingenuous smile. “Hey, Fish. Ever tried minding your own business?”

He feigns a wounded sound and clutches his chest. “Ouch. I’m just looking out for ya.”

“Feels more like you’re pestering me.” You pull on the door handle and slot the first bag along the backseat.

Frankie lifts his chin, peering in at the contents. The star-spangled plated, the dripping bags of ice. “Having a party?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You yank the bag from his sight, spinning to push it alongside the others. “Nope.”

He crosses his arms. “Sure looks like you’re having one.”

“Well, I’m not.” You slam the door and turn back to him, staring blankly.

“Forgot,” he sniffs, “you need friends to have a party.”

“Hilarious. Those shit jokes how you make all your friends?”

He nods, impressed. Pouts his lips like an annoying little fish. Suits his stupid fucking nickname. “Then why’d Benny call ‘n ask if I’ll be at Pope’s parents’ tonight?”

Shit. Fucking – Benny.

You sigh, eyes rolling closed. Your fingers massage your temples. “It’s not…it’s…”

“Cookout, right? Yeah. That stings, baby. No call, no text. You owe me, remember?”

“I owe you jack sh–”

“Two drinks,” Frankie clips, holding a finger up to shush you. “Three, if you count saving your car from one hell of a scratch.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and then give voice to, “It’s a small gathering of friends, and – now you, apparently.”

He sways forward, bumping the cart into your hip. “You need me to bring anything?”

You heave it straight back at him, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tranquilizer gun, if you’ve got one.”

“Can get something even stronger, if it’s a party you’re after.”

Your eyes thin. “Wouldn’t be my mom’s favorite for much longer if she found out you were doing coke in her backyard.”

Frankie smiles. That trademark Catfish grin. “I’ve done worse in her kitchen, baby.”

He’s so goddamn cocky. So full of it, it makes you want to scream. He studies you, eyes shadowed by his cap. His hair flicks out around his ears, dark curls doused in golden sunlight.

When your eyes trace the shape of his jaw, the wiry hair above his top lip – the faint flicker of a memory glows across your skin.

The weight of his hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. The bristling feeling ghosting the inside of your thighs. Your desperate wet, his tongue covering ground across your body like claiming territory.

Every shade of wrong. Ignoring every atom in your body – betraying every version of yourself for ten minutes of euphoria. He brought every numb nerve under your skin to attention, the second he knelt between your knees.

But he’s looking at you now, the same way he did the other night. It’s boyish and dangerous. A naked match just waiting to fall.

Maybe you’re waiting for an excuse to drop it.

Frankie gives his cap a quick tug, and makes off for his truck.

“See you at seven, Garcia.”

Daylight melts into dusk and with it, goes the sharp sting of summer. A pale blue rolls across the horizon, covering the yard in a hazy sort of chill. A relieving breeze, like satin over newly burned skin.

You’re still fucking sweating.

“Are you going to help me, or you just gonna lie there and text your girlfriend?” you call across the yard.

The dark figure spilling over the edge of the hammock grunts in response.

“Santi.”

Your brother groans, rolling free from the marigold fabric. He strides across the lawn, swinging an arm down to ruffle Ange’s ears. “Not a girlfriend,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “She’s…she’s more of a…”

You lift your hand. “Not something I need to know.”

He laughs and looks at the spread on the table. He lifts the corner of a tricolor napkin, straightens a plastic fork. The foil over the hamburger buns crinkles. “We did a good job. Looks great.”

“We?” You scoff, slapping his wrist away. “Yeah, me and the fucking dog, more like.”

“How much did it all come to? The food and shit?”

You shrug. “Like, forty dollars. I don’t know.”

“Gave you sixty. Where’s my change?”

You frown, hands on your hips. “If you don’t know how to budget properly, that’s not my problem.”

“And if you don’t know when to just lie and say you spent it all, that’s not mine. Twenty bucks, kid.” He holds his hand out, fingers beckoning.

The squeal of the gate interrupts, followed by a barrage of voices. Will and Benny and Mal and – as you lean back to watch them parade through the yard, you spot the figure of Frankie at their heels.

“Pope?” Will calls. “Pope, do me a favor. Remind me which one of us threw up at Busch Gardens that one time. Remember – right after we rode Gwazi?”

Santiago chuckles. “I remember Mallory wearing her raspberry slushie.”

Will guffaws in Mal’s face.

“I spit up!” she protests. “I spit up in a flowerbed. I was not wearing my slushie.”

“You were fluorescent pink the whole day,” Will says. He slings an arm around your shoulders. “You remember, lil Santi?”

You frown. Yeah, you fucking remember.

You remember being forced to sit between Frankie and Mal the entire way home. Santiago got dibs on the front seat by pretending he was carsick, and Mal had to sit by an open window so she didn’t stink your dad’s car out with all her raspberry-flavored puke.

You and Frankie bickered the whole journey. Both absolutely certain that the other was leaning too far over your seats. Your dad vowed he’d never let you both in his car at the same time, ever again.

“Mhm,” you grit, shooting daggers at your best friend.

She mouths a Sorry, and then places her salad bowl in the middle of the table. “Enough about throwing up. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

The boys spend twenty minutes arguing over how the barbecue works, before a single bit of food is cooked. You and Mal watch from the table, sneaking Ange slices of cheese and giggling when Will and Benny break into their fifth argument of the night.

Santi and Frankie take charge, shoving the brothers out of the way.

Pope passes over the meat, while Frankie mans the grill. He lifts his cap and wipes his brow with his bicep, giving his head a shake as he flips burgers and turns sausages.

And no, you’re not watching him. You’re focused on Mal and her story about some guy from work. Or – it might be a guy from her yoga class. The instructor, maybe? You’re not sure. Frankie just flapped the collar of his shirt and the hem lifted, exposing a sliver of his tummy.

You’re not watching him, though.

He runs his tongue along his top lip, focusing on the sizzle and spatter of the grill. His arm tenses, turning the tongs over and over. Wide shoulders stretch when he reaches for a plate.

He’s laughing quietly at whatever Santi’s babbling about at his side. His eyes are stuck on the barbecue in front of him. His fingers twirl around the tongs again. He never looked so lean and so broad and so fucking different, all at once.

Weird different. Good different?

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. This time, it’s not so much anger, as it is –

Oh, shit.

Mal gets up for a refill at the same time Santiago jogs inside to grab more meat. You and Frankie are alone on the patio – Will and Benny are kicking a ball for Ange to chase on the grass.

Morales turns, and you instantly stare down at your beer. You take a forceful swig as he approaches.

“Hotdog?” he asks, holding a plate down to you.

“Huh?”

He glares at you and scoffs. “Are you dumb? Hotdog.” He slips it onto the table in front of you.

You squint at the grill marks, and then squint up at Frankie. Puzzled and…offended, at the same time. You come back to your body with a jolt. “Why the hell are you–? Have you laced it with something?”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, tongue between his teeth. “No, I haven’t fucking laced it with anything. I just figured you should have the first one, since you put all this on for us. But – Jesus, give me it.”

Your fingers lock around the paper plate when he tries to steal it back. For all that he’s a dick and might actually try to poison you – you’re fucking starving.

You figure you can stomach the poison.

Frankie sighs. He lets go. “I’m tryna be nice, alright? You know nice?”

“I know nice. You’re not it.”

“Shut up and eat your hotdog, lil Santi.”

You mimic him in a squeak as he strolls off, shaking his head. Still, the second he’s back at the grill, you rip into the hotdog.

Frankie stays at the opposite end of the table for the entire meal – closest seat to the barbecue, and furthest seat from you. There’s too much chatter, too much hilarity being thrown back and forth between you for either of you to kick up a row.

Probably better for the guys’ sakes, but – you want to fucking row.

It’s like a hit, now. A rush of electricity, any time Frankie looks at you for longer than it takes his face to twist into a grimace. You’re hunting for ways to ignite something – anything. Looking for an excuse to drop that naked match and set the whole thing alight.

Because it’s fun, when you’re in the heat of it. Feeling his eyes on you, as hot and angry as flames. Being suffocated by the smoke of it all; breathing in less and less air and more…him.

And, anyway – who knows you better than the one person who pisses you off the most?

As the sun is snuffed by the heavy hand of dusk, you disappear to a quieter corner of the yard. Tucked between two thick beech trees, you throw yourself into the hammock – one leg draped over the side, swinging idly through the night air.

A beer bottle balanced on your tummy, the round base seeping a chilled ring into your shirt. The swish of leaves overhead and the annoying midges at your ears for company.

That is – until the sound of footsteps over crisp grass, and the creak of an old, splintered garden chair disturb your peace.

Frankie adjusts his cap, flatting his fringe beneath it, and sits back. “You never change, do you, Garcia? Still the same little longer you always were.”

You hold your hands out, gulping back beer – and glee. “Can I fucking help you? I’m minding my own business.”

“Thought you might want some company.”

“Not yours, dickhead. You think I’m way the hell over here ‘cause I wanted you to come annoy me?”

He hums, picking at a flake of paint on the armrest. “Sure wanted me to annoy you the other night.”

“Alright,” you clip. “Cheap shot. You been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Since I saw you at the store.”

You roll your eyes.

Frankie slips a cigarette from its pack and lights it, tipping his chin to blow a white cloud to the sky. “You’re too much fun,” he tells the stars.

You squint through the dark, staring at the glowing cherry. “What?”

“You. You get so pissed, so easily. Always have.”

“Well, you antagonize me. Always have.”

His cheeks lift. It’s something softer than a smirk, still laced with too much attitude to be a smile. “That’s ‘cause you were always around. Everywhere Santi went, there you were. Closer than his shadow.”

“Well,” you glower, “’s what happens when you have a big brother. You’re void of love; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, I get it,” he says. “It just got fun to mess with you, after a while.”

“Uhuh,” you take another swig, “so is that what you’re doing? Messing with me?”

Frankie’s shoulders jump. “You tell me. There were two of us in your room that night.”

You swing your legs down to the grass. It’s brittle under your socks when you stand, still focusing on the end of his cigarette. “Damn, you really can’t shut up about it, can you? How many times have you tugged one to the thought of it?”

“Tugged one,” he snickers, but he seems nervous – watching as you approach. “What age are you?”

You push his knees wider, slotting between his thighs. “Which part does it for you? What sends you over the edge?”

“Come on, lil Santi,” Frankie says, averting his eye. “You’re embarrassing yourself now.”

One knee up, resting on the crease of his jeans. You lean forward and nudge his hip, lay your hands gently on his shoulders. “I bet you still hear me in your dreams.”

He scans up and down your body, lingering on your bare thigh. “Not – not gonna work, kid,” he promises, shaking his head. “You still annoy the fuck outta me.”

“Right, right.” You pinch the pale stick from between his teeth. “’cause nothing’s changed, yeah?”

His head sways in agreement. He’s distracted, watching as you lift your hand to your mouth.

You smile down at him. “’cept you know how I taste now, so.”

You slot the damp end of the cigarette between your lips and suck. Sharp, acrid heat sails over your tongue and down your throat, filling your chest in one inhale. You cough a little, batting the smoke as you blow it out.

“Tastes fucking disgusting,” you croak. “How can you smoke these?”

Frankie’s eyes never leave your lips. “You get used to it.”

You take another draw, letting the smoke soar through the space between you. “Gross,” you say, and prop the cig back between his lips. “Just like you!”

“Sh…shut up,” he groans, adjusting in his seat.

“Make me.”

But he doesn’t bite. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares back, rolling the smoldering stick between his thumb and finger. Running his tongue along his teeth.

You spill the last of your beer onto your tongue, cocking an eyebrow at him, and push from his lap.

You make it no more than five steps, before that same weight from the parking lot is around your shoulders.

He pings the cigarette somewhere in the grass, and grabs onto your elbow.

“Fran– Jesus – Where are we–?”

He drags you through the dull dusk to the other side of the lawn, ignoring the click of the motion sensor. You’re thrown through a wooden door onto cold concrete before the yard light floods over you.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Weak slivers of moonlight illuminate each tool hanging from the wall. The fairy lights outside lose their battle against the darkness the second they creep through the window.

Before you can sling something mocking at him, Frankie has you pinned against the wall.

“You want me to make you shut up?” he growls, teeth grazing your neck. His fingers slip behind the waist of your shorts, plucking at the button. “I’ll make you shut up. Make you shut up all goddamn night.”

“Frankie,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shirt. You push on his chest, walking him backwards over to the workbench.

The thing shudders when he rocks against it.

“The fuck are you doing?” he murmurs, watching as you kneel before him.

“Getting used to it,” you reply.

You pull his belt apart, loosen the fly on his pants, and pull until they’re low on his hips.

Frankie holds onto the bench with a white-knuckle grip. He lays his hand over the crown of your head, rubbing small circles. A laugh slips across his tongue. “This what you’ve been thinkin’ about?”

You ignore him, instead focusing on the solid shape in his underwear.

His hips flinch when you drag your palm along it. He’s hard already. He hisses at your cold fingers on his stomach, tensing as your knuckles skim below the elastic.

And then…he’s in your palm. All of him. Frankie fucking Morales.

You’re trying not to think too deep about it.

Your fingers wrap around him, barely meeting around his width, and you slip him from his boxers.

His cock springs free, swaying once, twice – then settling to the right.

Your mouth fills with saliva. Suddenly – there’s no way not to think too deep about it.

He’s…he’s big. He’s thick; smooth and sculpted, veins trailing around his shaft. It’s not like you ever considered what he’s walking around with before, but looking at it now – you can’t believe it’s him.

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss him all the way down to the hair at his base. A wet trail, lips curving around the size of him. You run your tongue up and down, circling the tip and toying with it.

Frankie cups your cheek. “Pretty little mouth,” he utters. “Put it to good use, huh?”

You don’t need him to ask twice.

You sink down on him. Every inch of him – every aching, choking inch. Your jaw slackens to take him; nails digging into his thighs when he bumps the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he hisses. His hand comes down on your head a little too heavily.

You yelp and pull back, gasping when he slips out. “Prick,” you breathe, closing your lips around his tip again.

“Just too sweet with it,” he murmurs, guiding himself back across your tongue.

You suckle on him, using your hands to pump the inches your mouth can’t take.

Frankie’s head tips back, panting at the roof. His hips thrust to meet your movements. “Feels so – goddamn – good,” he moans, and you hum with glee.

You take his balls in your hands, kneading them as you work your way lower. He’s so deep in your mouth that it makes your eyes water. Each slip of his tip against the back of your throat makes you gag, pulls a lewd, muffled sound from your chest.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be enjoying it this much. But he’s falling apart under your fingertips, he’s unwinding right before you. He’s whispering your name, begging you not to stop. Just like that, just like that, just like that. Oh, fuck, just like that.

It’s addictive. Now that you know how he looks, how he feels, you’ll never go back to before. When the most thrill he gave you was a burning temper; feeling your pulse jump in your throat with rage.

This – whatever the fuck this is – is all you know, now. Pulling threads from one another, watching the way they unravel. Watching each other unravel. Flashes of eye contact, salt and slick and sex dripping from every secret word.

Frankie’s hips jerk. His cock spasms.

You don’t want him to come down your throat. You don’t want him to climax when he’s too deep for you to taste it.

You want him all over – your lips, your tongue, dribbling down your chin. You want to mix him with your saliva and swallow; warm, salty, Frankie.

He got his taste. Now you want yours.

You bring your hands up to his thighs, purposefully pushing back off him.

His grip loosens, and he looks down. Brows low and close, eyes blown wide like he’s higher than any drug could take him.

He’s as addicted as you are.

“My mouth,” you mumble, head of his cock circling your glistening lips. “In my mouth.”

“Yeah?” he says, and the weight of his cock slaps on your bottom lip. “That where you want it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your lips back around him.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Frankie spits, laughing. “Shit – just like that. Yeah, that’s it.”

Three, four more soaking strokes of your tongue and he’s twitching again.

You pull back only enough to rest his tip on your tongue, feeling the pulsing heat as he comes. Watching the way his face tightens, the pull of his brows as it overcomes him.

His eyes stay locked on you. Your fluttering lashes, your puffy, glossy lips. He fills your mouth and then some – semen spilling from the corners and dribbling down your jaw. And the sound he makes – this broken, scattered moan, bordering on a fucking whimper – is fucking perfect.

Frankie’s hand locks at the base of your skull, holding you steady until he’s done. His cock slips from your bottom lip. He gives one last satisfied sigh, petting your head as you stroke him slowly, tenderly – swiping kitten licks at the dripping mess of him.

“Fuck,” he moans, letting his eyes close over. His weight slumps against the workbench. “The fuck do you spend so much time yapping for when you’re that good with your mouth?”

You hum in amusement, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. He’s softening, but still a decent size. Still a weight to it that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

One last little kiss, and you tuck him back into his boxers. You drag the back of your hand across your chin.

Frankie holds his hands out, and you pull yourself up. He fixes himself into his jeans, turning away to do up his belt. He had his cock in your throat two minutes ago, and here he is pretending to be shy.

He turns back around, half disappeared to the dark shed. “I, uh…I don’t want you to think that I came here just to…just for that.”

Your tongue dabs at the inside of your cheek, all salty. “Then this is awkward, ‘cause that’s the only reason I hadn’t kicked you out yet.”

He laughs, dropping your gaze. “You…” he shakes his head, “…are such a little shit, you know that?”

It’s nicer than he would’ve worded it half an hour ago. But still – having an exchange with Frankie that doesn’t involve spitting insults or jagged glares, warms your blood in a way that’s new and…unsettling.

“We should probably…” You toss a thumb over your shoulder, eyes flitting to the string bulbs outside. “We don’t want them wondering what’s…you know.”

He nods and strides over to the door. The wood squeals against concrete as he pulls it open.

The summer swirls around you again, sweetening the stuffy heat of the shed. Mal’s voice surfs through the breeze – she’s still arguing over the Busch Gardens story.

You make to step out, and Frankie’s arm halts you.

He opens his palm. “Even,” he tells you. “We’re even.”

He seems sure of himself. Sure of you. He looks you in the eye and doesn’t blink.

You smirk. Your hand slips into his, letting him shake your fist once. You stare straight back at him.

“We’re just getting fucking started, Francisco.”

[locusfandomtime]

fake book covers based on Cub’s museum gift shop and the signs he posted with fake book titles! This was a lot of fun haha. I know there are more fake books, and now he’s getting signed books from hermits, so I plan on making more soon! May even make a Reddit account just to post these guys on the subreddit

design notes under cut!

The Diamond Pillar Saga: Hotguy(TM) Flies Again - this title evoked such a visceral image of something you’d find in a Scholastic book fair so I went for sort of pre-teen superhero action novel, the kind with a bunch of pictures and stupid chapter titles. I imagine in-universe Scar is trying to sell as much Hotguy merch as possible so whilst he has stuff for the adults (shirtless calendars) he’d also have comic books and novels for the kids. There’s a concorp logo because I like to think the Hotguy brand is owned by concorp and it was just a cool touch

Grian’s Theory of The Mind - have you ever seen books on like psychology and breaking habits and behaviour, that kind of stuff? They always look like this. There’s a yellow background, a simple abstract design, a bunch of book awards/reviews, and a single sentence hook. This one was the easiest and most fun to design!

Joe Hills: Transformative Poems - this was based on the “Joe Hills Poetry Corner”. Transformative poems is from “transformative works” meaning… fanfiction basically. Joe has written fanfic before and I thought an Iliad/Hermit crossover would be something he’d do. Joe made the cover himself so it has a dyed leather cover and a simple design. He tried to ask Cleo for a review so he could put one on the front but she was kinda mean about it and laughed at him so he wrote a fake one instead

Ren the King: A Complicated Legacy - this one had no explicit author but I decided Cleo made the most logical sense. Historical non-fiction books often have these B+W photo backgrounds with some dramatic, fancy text overtop, so I painted the Crastle and added then messed around with text. There’s a reduced sticker over Cleo’s name because this is Cub’s gift shop and he wouldn’t want to give her credit (but still wants to stock up his shop)

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Batman Has Arrived - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - fwb!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Two weeks into the break Matt proposed, he pops up on you at a Halloween party. Warnings - Strong language. Sexual suggestions. Fluff. A lil angst?? W/c - 2560 A/n - That tiktok Matt posted had me dreamingggg. It's now no nut November (idk if I'm participating) so I didn't want to turn this into a smut lol. Let me know what you guys think!! 🦇 Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!) My Masterlist Current series - City of Love (Matt) Current works - part two to You Like me? (Matt) Latest work - Pierced (Chris)

“Code red!” your best friend sounds from behind you, making you whirl around to face her. “He’s here and he’s so pissed,” she tells you before taking a sip of her drink. Your heart drops to your stomach, the drunken haze you’re in isn’t making it better, “you told me he wouldn’t be here!”

“I didn’t think he would be!” she throws her hands up defensively. It had only been two weeks since Matt proposed a ‘break’ between you two. His reason being - ‘he wasn’t in the right mental state for a girlfriend.’ You thought it was bullshit, and it was. Matt had a bad habit of not being straightforward with you. Truth be told, even though he was always the one to suggest a break, he was always the one to come running back. His constant need to go back and forth left you feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. This wasn't the first time he brought up the idea, in the beginning you'd constantly check in on. After the third or fourth time of him doing the same stupid shit, you decided ignoring him was best.

Already knowing how the night will end, you pour yourself another shot. Before you can bring it up to your lips, “Batman has arrived,” you hear your best friend scoff. She throws a shot back with you as Matt approaches the kitchen island. “Drinking away your problems, huh?” the familiar voice makes you hold your breath out of nervousness.

You roll your eyes almost immediately, “I didn’t have any problem until I noticed you were here.” You were still holding a grudge. It had been six months since you and Matt first started hooking up. He was probably the most confusing man you had ever been with. One minute he’s talking about a future with you, and the next he’s telling you he needs a break, that he's not ready for a relationship. You’d feel a lot better if he actually communicated, telling you what’s truly wrong, but he did the exact opposite. He never told you shit, just springs unexpected breaks on you like your feelings don’t matter.

Even worse, Matt knew you were head over heels for him. Everyone knew. The way you stare at him when he was in close proximity resembled a schoolgirl swooning over her first crush, that’s what it felt like anyway.

“Don’t be like that, Y/n/n,” he says after leaning down to your ear. The loud music blaring through the house made it hard to hear anything. His hands fall to your waist, and he leans you back against his chest, “I only came out tonight so I could see you.”

You tilt your head to get a good look at him. Black paint smears over his eyes making him look more mysterious than he already did. You gape at him, “Batman?”

Matt’s fingers make gentle circles on your waistline, the fabric of your costume bunching up in the process. You were dressed in all black, as a fallen angel. Before the break, you and Matt planned on going as Catwoman and Batman, inspired by Robert Pattinson and Zoe Kravitz. It was one of your favorite superhero movies, along with his. Apparently, Matt wasn’t creative enough to come up with another costume idea. Seeing him in the costume you coordinated for him made your stomach twirl. Little did you know - he was praying you'd come dressed as his Catwoman.

“Fallen angel?” he asks before he spins you around to face him. You nod, a bit taken back with how touchy he was being. Matt wasn’t the pda type of person, just like he wasn’t the going out type. You figured Halloween was a special occasion since it was his favorite day of the year. Matt keeps his grip firm, “you look really good.”

“Are you drunk?” you ask him, leaning in so he can hear you better. Matt immediately shakes his head, “I can’t miss you?”

Sucking your teeth and shaking your head at him, “no.” You let your eyebrows knit together, looking at everything except Matt. Truth be told, every time he suggested a break it left you heartbroken. In a way, you felt like you weren't good enough to be his girlfriend. That’s how the constant back-and-forth shit made you feel, like you weren’t good enough for him.

Your drunken state makes it harder for you to blink away the tears prickling at your eyes. Matt’s hands move from your waist to your arms, rubbing them gently like he’s trying to distract you. “Well, I do,” he tells you, searching your face for answers neither of you seem to have. The reasoning behind all the breaks wasn’t because of another girl or wanting freedom. It was simply because he felt like his mental health didn’t allow him to treat you the way you deserved to be treated, and he knew that.

Sucking a breath in and deciding to stay strong, “I’m not doing this tonight, Matt. I came here to get my mind off of you,” you spit out as you take a step back. You run your finger through your hair, hoping the night wouldn’t end how you expected it to - in Matt’s bed.

Before he can say anything else, your best friend, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, snatches you out of his grip. “Okay,” she stretches out, “that’s enough arguing for tonight.”

Matt’s face drops and he keeps a firm grip on your arm, “what? We weren’t arguing,” he defends himself. You look down at the tight grip on your arm, “c’mon y/n/n. Please don’t be like that,” empathy leaking through his words.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can Chris appears out of nowhere. He whispers something in Matt's ear, making him realize he’s causing a scene. He keeps grip tight as he looks around the room, taking in the people who are staring at you two. Innocent bystanders probably thought he was some crazy overprotective boyfriend. That wasn’t the case though, and it made your heart hurt. Matt being possessive over you was pointless if he never had any plans to make you his.

Six months. Six months you had been fucking him and he still hasn’t asked you out. You were losing hope at this point. You had the ‘don’t go back to him’ talk with your best friend time after time but you never learned your lesson. Nights like this always ended with an angry Matt fucking you into his mattress as you spoke in tongues against his pillow, leaving drool stains on the process.

Chris wraps arm around his brother's shoulder, guiding him away from you, and waving an arm over his shoulder. It was his way of signaling you to get the fuck out of there. You quickly take notion, spinning around and hauling ass out of the kitchen, your bestie close behind you.

“That was fucking intense,” she tells you once you lead her to an empty bathroom, closing the door behind her. You groan, throwing your head back, “did you see how fucking good he looked?!”

“No, no,” she says in a panicky tone. “You’re not going home with him tonight!” She knows you too well. Looking in the mirror, you critic your Halloween makeup, making sure none of it got ruined yet. Your best friend makes her way to the toilet, quickly dropping her pants and squatting, “sorry I have to pee.” You shrugged at her, knowing you’d do the same if you really had to pee.

“I feel so bad though,” you tell her while applying more lip stick. “Bitch, he should feel bad for constantly playing with your emotions,” she scoffs.

“He does. You seen his face,” defending him against her harsh opinions wasn’t uncommon at this point. Y/bf/n was just as protective over you as Matt was. Her knowing every detail about the relationship you shared with him made her question his true intentions towards you. You were never the type to have a friends with benefits relationship, and Matt was pretty much forcing you into it. He hadn’t left you alone since the first night he had you, but he never talked about furthering things either.

“Just because his face says one thing, it doesn’t mean it’s accurate,” she tells you honestly. She had a point, but you knew Matt. You knew he wore his emotions on his face before he communicated them to the world. He held a lot back from a lot of people, you included.

You shake your head in disagreement, but before you can talk, she does, “I know you’re gonna leave with him. But at least tell him what you actually want before the night is over and if he doesn’t give it to you then you need to leave him alone. Matt’s not good for you, Y/n.”

After y/bf/n finishes lecturing you, you quickly exit the bathroom, making your way back to the living room. Only problem was, Matt was standing by the doorway with Chris and Nick, scoping his surroundings in hopes to find you. As soon as his eyes land on you, his feet move in your directions. Nick and Chris in tow close behind him, you’d think they were babysitting their drunk brother, but Matt was nowhere near drunk. He was fuming.

“Y/n,” he calls out as soon as he approaches you. You let your face do the talking, scrunching your nose at his comment. Matt never called you by your first name unless he was serious. “You’re coming home with me,” he states, not bothering to give you an option. He quickly redeems himself, “cause you’re drunk.”

“Right,” you huff, running a hand through your hair, “that’s why.” Matt's lips curve upward a bit like he’s trying to smile but he fights it off, keeping them pin straight. Nick lets out a laugh behind him, followed by Chris. Ear hustlers.

You really didn’t have the time or patience to have your Halloween night ruined. You were a girl who liked to have a good time, so Matt putting a halt on your night made you give in to what he wanted. Anything to avoid the conflict at all costs, you had a soft spot for him. You couldn’t tell if it was black paint he had smeared across his eyes, something told you had to go home with him. Then again, your conscious convinced itself every other night you needed him. Holding out for the past two weeks did neither of you the justice it should’ve. It only made the infatuation worse.

Not even twenty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of Matt’s car. He sped through traffic occasionally glancing at you with the sour expression still stuck on his face like glue. Two weeks and you were already wasted at a Halloween party, giving any random guy the opportunity to make a play on you. It pissed him off to no end.

Matt knew every time he suggested a break, it broke your heart a little bit more. He couldn’t bring himself to publicly announce your relationship, he feared the attention would ruin it all. If you were soft for him then you’d be soft when the hate comment came along too, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen. As overprotective as he was, he knew he’d lash out at anyone who threw a negative comment your way. He had a soft spot for you, he just didn’t let it show. Deep down, you could sense it every time you were with him and that’s what reeled you in more each time.

“What’s with the looks?” you decide to finally break the silence, cutting the tension that floated in the air. It didn’t matter how mad he was, the Batman costume was doing wonders for you. Matt gives you the silent treatment, mentally scolding himself for practically kidnapping you. He knew it was toxic, and he knew he was the cause of it. The rest of the car ride is silent until he pulls up to his apartment.

“C’mon Matt,” you whine, “I really like the way your face is painted,” pulling the sleeve of his shirt. Not wanting to fight with him anymore, you caved like usual. Instead of letting his shitty mood get the best of you, you made light of it, doing anything you could to make the night end well.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” keeping his tone low and teasing, “you ghost me for weeks and now all the sudden want me, wonder why?” This wasn’t unfamiliar for you and Matt to be so hot and cold with each other. Whether you liked it or not, it happened too frequently. As soon as the door is open, you rush inside to kick off your shoes, stumbling in the process, “slow down!” Matt reaches a hand out, snaking it around your waist to steady you. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you hold on to his bicep in an attempt to steady yourself even more, “I’m drunk.”

“I know, baby. I can tell,” he keeps his grasp tight on you, kicking his shoes off, and leading you to the bedroom. Needles and pins stick into your feet with every step you take, making you take a mental note to never wear those heels again. Matt pushes his bedroom door open revealing his messy room. He never made his room look nice unless he was expecting someone you. In a way, you found it comforting because you knew he didn’t fuck anyone during your breaks. Instead, he sulked, trying to find ways to make the situation better but it never worked. He never put in full effort, and he knew it. It killed him.

You take your spot on Matt’s bed, making yourself comfortable. “I’m gonna go wash up,” he tells you quietly.

“What nooo,” you stretch out, rising to your feet and stumbling in the process. “I told you I like it,” crossing your arms over your chest.

“Seriously?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the door. “I thought you were kidding,” he chuckles. Even though he was still upset over the whole situation, he couldn’t help but think your drunken haze was the cutest thing. He loved how goofy and playful you were, like all the shyness disappears.

You reach out to him, taking the hem of his sleeve between your fingers, “I really wanted to be your Catwoman tonight, y’know,” giving him those seductive doe eyes you mastered years ago. That look made him crack every time.

“The least you can do is be my Batman,” filling in the gap between the two of you. You press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck, “you missed me?”

Matt hangs his head, making sure he’s ear level to you, “I did,” growling lowly. He places a sloppy kiss on your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. Matt's hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he pulls you closer to him. It never failed, as soon as he got you in his possession, there was no keeping his hands off of you. The break ended right then and there.

[bingoboingobongo]

in his eyes

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley (Call of Duty) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Gaz swears that there’s something going on between you and Ghost. Soap refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: explicit language, slight Gaz x Reader, i wrote the first draft w/o my glasses in the dark while listening to airplane sounds so forgive any typos

A/N: nothing is more humbling than hungrily fishing for pickles with chopsticks. also yes i wrote this instead of part three of awuass. anyways, likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated, enjoyyy :)

“Soap! Wait up, man,” Soap heard from behind him. He stopped walking and turned to see Gaz chasing behind him.

“You need something, mate?” Soap asked, confused. It wasn’t that he and Gaz weren’t close or anything — they were — but he had never seen Gaz so desperate to talk to him. He waited for Gaz to arrive, shooting him a concerned look when he had to stop and catch his breath, which Gaz just waved off. “Where were you coming from that’s got you all out of breath like this?” he asked.

“The training room,” Gaz said, taking another deep breath. “I sprinted here just to tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Soap was confused, he couldn’t think of a situation that was urgent enough for Gaz to come chasing after him, but not urgent enough for Price or one of the higher-ups to find him.

“You know Stick?” Gaz asked, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards. Soap was even more confused, of course he knew. You were Stick. You had gotten the nickname after you kept asking the guys to look for chapstick while they were on missions. Apparently you had lost the one you packed when you first arrived on base, and since then you had always been on the lookout for it. Soap had been the first one to call you it, although he called you Chapstick at first. Somewhere down the line though, it had been shortened to Stick and no one really questioned it.

“Yeah, what about her?” Soap asked.

“I just saw her and the lieutenant down at the training room, they were sparring together.”

“You mean Ghost?

Gaz nodded, which only left Soap more confused. Perhaps it was a little odd for you to be sparring with the lieutenant, given the general height and size disparity, but it wasn’t completely out of the question, and certainly not important enough to warrant such an extreme reaction from Gaz.

“Is that it? They were training together?”

“Of course not,” Gaz said, as if it were obvious, “I’m pretty sure there’s something going on between them. He was acting so weird around her, I’m telling you.”

Soap’s interest was piqued. “You mean you think they’re hooking up?”

“I don’t know about hooking up but there’s definitely something there, you can tell just looking at them.”

Soap hummed. You and Ghost, huh? On the surface, it wasn’t an absurd conclusion for Gaz to come to, the two of you did hang out together a lot, which held a lot of weight considering the kind of man Ghost was. But thinking about Ghost blushing over some school-boy crush on a girl just seemed insane. He was a 6’4 killing machine with more deaths under his belt than Soap could count; Soap just couldn’t see it.

“You’re reading into things, pal,” he said, punching Gaz lightly on the shoulder, “you really think Ghost’s got a crush on Stick?”

Gaz rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you man, there’s something there, for real. He was like a whole different person today while they were sparring. I swear to God he looked at her like she was the bloody Queen of England.”

“You think Ghost’s in love with the Queen of England?” Soap asked, smirking.

“Oh, fuck off,” Gaz said, rolling his eyes. “You know what I mean. There’s something there, I’m pretty sure I saw him smile at her for a moment.”

“He took off his mask?” Soap asked, surprised.

“Of course not, you idiot.”

“Then how could you see if he smiled, genius?”

“I saw his mask shift.”

“You saw his mask— Are you messing with me?”

“Oh fuck you, Soap. You know what I mean. It was in his eyes too, like, he looked at her like he was in love.”

Soap snorted, that idea was even more insane than Ghost blushing. “Alright, good one, Gaz. You got me.”

Gaz sighed, “I’m serious mate, I swear. Tonight, at dinner, I’ll show you. Just watch him, see how he looks at her, there’s no way he doesn’t like her.”

Soap rolled his eyes and began to walk away, “Whatever you say, Gaz,” he said nonchalantly. But despite his incredulous behavior, he couldn’t help but wonder if Gaz had a point. He did see Ghost hanging around you a lot, but he had assumed it was just coincidence until now. That being said, coincidences didn’t just happen over and over and over again.

That night, he decided to take Gaz up on his offer. He went to stop by his room before dinner, but before he could say anything Gaz shushed him. 

“Get in, quick. Ghost’s gonna be coming down the hallway any second now,” Gaz explained in a whisper as he tugged Soap into his room.

“You're stalking the lieutenant now, Gaz?” Soap asked.

“Oh piss off,” he said, “he always stops by her room around seven, and then they walk to dinner together. It’s been happening for about a week now.”

“So why’re you only telling me now?”

“Because I figured he was just reminding her of dinner or something. But after today,” he clicked his tongue, “no, there’s definitely something more there.”

Soap watched as Gaz creaked open the door ever so slightly, positioning himself so that he could just barely see out of it. Low and behold, Gaz was right. He heard Ghost walking down the hall before he saw him, but then he was there, just a few feet diagonal from them, knocking at your door.

He watched as you opened it, and said something he couldn’t hear, before closing it again. Ghost stayed outside of your door, leaning his weight against it as he stared down the hallway.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Soap asked. 

Gaz didn't answer, instead choosing to motion wildly at Soap as a signal for him to be quiet.

A few more minutes passed before you opened the door again. You looked surprised to see him there, but your surprise quickly morphed into a smile and the two of you left Soap’s line of sight. Gaz kept watching for a while longer, before shutting the door.

“See that?” Gaz asked.

“Did you hear what they said?” Soap repeated.

“He said something about dinner, and then she said she had to finish something up. I think it was a TV show or something. And then when she opened up the door she asked what he was doing there and that he didn’t need to wait for her.”

“Did he say anything in response?”

Gaz sighed, “I don’t know. I swear I heard him say he was happy to or something along those lines, but his voice is so damn low and his accent doesn’t help.”

Soap nodded slowly, “So he’s been doing this every day for a week now?”

Gaz nodded, “Usually he doesn’t have to wait for her though. They just go straight to dinner.”

Soap paused, staring at the ground for a moment, “Should we follow them? See if we can catch them doing something else?”

Gaz stared at him for a moment, his face thoughtful. “I’ll do you one better, Soap. How about you go up there and pretend to hit on her, eh? And then see how Ghost looks, I swear he’ll probably beat you up.”

“Why do I have to do it?” Soap asked.

“Because I’m not trying to get on Ghost’s bad side.”

“Well, neither am I,” Soap cried.

Gaz sighed, “Fine, I’ll do it. But you owe me for this. And you have to watch Ghost’s face. I’m not about to put my life in danger for nothing.”

Soap nodded, and the two of them made their way out into the hallway. You and Ghost had already exited, but it wasn’t hard to catch up. Gaz motioned for Soap to be quiet, and he watched as Gaz crept up behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump up in surprise.

He watched Ghost turn and glare at Gaz, and he could swear he could feel Ghost’s glower from a mile away. Soap ran to catch up to the three of you, just in time to hear you jokingly berate Gaz for scaring you.

“I swear to god, Kyle, if you didn’t have such a pretty face I would slap you right now,” you said, jokingly raising your fist at him. Soap immediately turned to look at Ghost, who’s eyes looked like they could probably kill. Soap took the chance to run ahead of you three, facing you guys as you walked down the hall together.

“Woah there, Stick,” Soap said, placing his hands out in front of him in fake concern, “we can’t have you threatening Gaz here, can we? I’d have to snitch on you to Price for that.”

“Oh screw you, Soap,” you said, laughing. Soap didn’t miss the way Gaz had managed to wedge himself in between you and Ghost, and he also didn’t miss the murderous glare Ghost was shooting towards Gaz.

“You guys going to dinner?” Soap asked, eyeing Gaz warily as he not-so-subtly put an arm around your shoulder.

“What is this? What are you doing, Gaz?” you snorted, holding up the hand that was wrapped around your shoulder.

Gaz opened his mouth to answer, but Ghost beat him to the chase. “She’s right, sergeant,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “Get your hands off her, just because we’re off duty doesn’t mean you can just forget about the rules.���

Gaz clicked his tongue and nodded, slowly snaking his hand off of you. Soap didn’t miss the told-you-so look Gaz shot him as they made eye contact. 

You laughed again, “It’s alright, Ghost, he was just playing around. It's all in good fun, right Gaz?”

“You know it, Stick.”

Ghost’s eyes flickered between you and Gaz. Gaz had been right, Ghost was different when you were involved. Before, reading Ghost had been harder than reading a text in a different language, but now he was an open book. Soap could see every emotion behind Ghost’s eyes, anger, annoyance, betrayal?

“Besides,” you said, looking at Ghost, “you’re still my favorite.”

And there it was. The ‘something’ Gaz wouldn’t stop talking about. Love, with an undertone of adoration and maybe a hint of disbelief. Soap was shocked. There really was something between you and the lieutenant.

“Alright, you lovebirds,” Soap said, curious to see how Ghost would respond. He acted how he thought he would, his eyes snapping off of you and onto Soap, and maybe, just maybe Soap could see the slightest hint of blush on the edge of his exposed skin at being caught. “Are you guys going to dinner or not?”

You turned to look at him, a bright smile on your face as you nodded. “You?”

“Of course,” Soap said, “you guys sitting with us still?”

He watched as you turned to look at Ghost, who also turned to look at you. Somehow, the two of you managed to exchange some sort of silent conversation, because when you looked back you gave him a sheepish smile and said, “We’ll see.”

Soap watched you carefully, “Right then," he said, “come on Gaz, let’s go while the food’s still warm.”

He pulled Gaz out from between the two of you and the pair headed towards the dining hall, moving as fast as possible to try and get far enough away that they could talk about what had just happened.

“God, I guess you were right, Gaz,” Soap said, as they entered the hall.

Gaz clicked his tongue, “I told you so. I guess all it took was me risking my life to convince you.”

Soap chuckled, “You were gutsy back there, you know? God, if you saw the way he was looking at you? You better be glad he wasn’t armed or he probably would’ve shot you right then and there.”

Gaz snorted, “Oh I saw how he was looking at me, scared the shit out of me too. You know, they should give me a medal for that level of bravery.”

“I'll say.”

He followed Gaz as they went to go get a plate of food, before finding a table near the center of the room to sit down at. “You think they’ll come eat with us?” Gaz asked.

“Why wouldn’t they? They always eat with us,” Soap said.

Gaz hummed, “Could you see how stiff he got when I was standing in between them?” 

Soap laughed again, “Of course, I did. And when he yelled at you for putting your arm around her?”

Gaz snorted, picking at the food on his plate, “Oh god, you don’t know how fast my heart was racing when I did that. I was preparing my last will and testament and everything.”

Soap doubled over in laughter, but stopped quickly when Gaz tapped his shoulder repeatedly and hurriedly whispered for him to be quiet. He looked up, his eyes swiveling around before they landed on you and Ghost. He watched as you made eye contact with him; he let out a wave which you returned before moving towards the food. As always, Ghost was right behind you, but Soap could’ve sworn he was following a little more closely than usual.

“Is it just me or is he standing really close to her?” he asked Gaz, lowering his voice so they couldn’t be heard over the dining hall chatter.

Gaz shook his head as he pretended to toy with his food, “No, he’s definitely closer. Look at them, they’re practically touching hips.”

Soap watched out of the corner of his eye as you two finished getting your food. He saw you look over at Ghost and then nod your head in their direction, before you rolled your eyes with a smirk and went to follow Ghost to a small table in the opposite corner of the room.

“Did you see that?” Soap asked Gaz, his eyes flicking between him and you.

“I did, now stop staring before you get us all in trouble,” Gaz said, keeping his eyes focused on his plate. 

“Why do you think they’re sitting alone?” Soap asked.

“Why do you think? Ghost probably thinks I actually fancy Stick and now he’s trying to keep her away so she’ll pick him.”

Soap hummed thoughtfully, “I think you’ve actually got a point there, Gaz.”

“Damn right I do.”

“Do you actually though?” Soap asked.

“Do I what? Have a point?”

“No, do you actually fancy Stick?”

Gaz stopped to think as he took a bite of his food, “I mean,” he said, swallowing. “She’s pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I’d probably try and at least ask her out under different circumstances—”

“But?”

“But if there's something going on between her and L.T. I’m not going to be the idiot that tries to get between them.”

“Really?” Soap asked, “what if there’s nothing actually between them?”

Gaz snorted, “Are you serious mate? After all this? I risked my life just to prove it to you and you’re still doubting me?” He shook his head. “There’s definitely something going on between them, get your head out of your ass. And — and maybe this is a controversial opinion — but I would like to return to my family when this is all done. I don’t have a death wish.”

Soap chuckled, tilting his head in agreement.

“Besides,” he said, gesturing for Soap to look at them again. He did, and through the mess of heads he could see Ghost cut off a piece of his food and feed it to you, a strangely domestic scene that went against everything he thought he knew about the cold lieutenant. “They’re kind of made for each other, eh?”

“Who’s made for each other?” asked Price, sitting down next to them with a groan.

“Sir,” Gaz said, stiffening, “didn’t realize you were listening.”

“It’s my job to listen, Garrick. Now answer the question.”

Gaz sighed, nodding his head towards your direction.

Price let out a sigh. “So you guys finally caught on, eh?”

“You knew about this?” Soap asked, turning to face Price.

“It’s not hard to notice.”

“Are they…” Soap paused, nodding his head suggestively.

“What? Dating?” Price asked.

“Sure.”

“Now that, I don’t know. I don’t think so though.”

“Do you think she likes him?” Gaz asked.

Price clicked his tongue, “Most likely.”

“Do you think he likes her?” Gaz asked.

“Most definitely,” Price said, snorting.

“Do you think he knows she likes him?” Soap asked.

Price chuckled, “MacTavish, I don’t think he even knows that he likes her.”

That comment earned a round of laughs from the three of them. But despite Price changing the topic, Soap couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you and Ghost. It was such a strange scene to see, you and him tucked away in a private table in your own little corner. He watched the way your eyes crinkled with laughter as you spoke; the way Ghost would interrupt you every so often with a piece of neatly cut food on his fork for you to eat it.

He could practically see the adoration oozing out of Ghost every time you rolled your eyes and took a bite; the way you practically stared at him with hearts in your eyes whenever he would ever so slightly lift his mask to take a bite of food. And for a moment, just for a moment, he swore he saw the corner of Ghost’s mouth twitch into a smile at something you said before he lowered his mask again. But even with his mouth covered, Soap realized Gaz had been right once more. Soap could see the smile in Ghost’s eyes. Soap could see everything in Ghost’s eyes, every single drop of love and reverence and adoration he had for you.

[dmercer91]

hooked, jh86

in which jack is quite literally sleeping with the enemy.

most of the rangers give me egregious vibes so there are hardly any in here and i used their ig handles for twitter i didn't feel like finding the correct ones - set in 2023-24 season

jackhughes

liked by yourusername, nicohischier and 147,122 others

jackhughes: drives me mad

view 1,239 comments..

yourusername: in ny we hard launch like grownups

→ jackhughes: oh yeah?

→ yourusername: once you fuck this one up i’ll swoop in and prove it to u hughesy ;)

trevorzegras: admitting that you’re easily rizzed is crazy

→ jackhughes: easily 🤨

→ trevorzegras: ‘the hit could’ve been harder maybe she likes me 🤭’

→ user: did she hit him with her car or????

user: hit? as in like hockey hit? y/n??????

→ user: she just threatened to mr steal your girl him tho so idk

yourusername: jhugh big foot guy eh?

→ jackhughes: what the fuck y/n

_quinnhughes: luke?

→ lhughes_06: i can’t even explain without giving myself a migraine

dawson1417: i’m telling nico

→ jackhughes: there’s nothing to tell nico 🤨

→ nicohischier: nico uses context clues to deduce things

elblue6: ❤️

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes and 129,483 others

yourusername: van @ nyr except i adopted the sad one

jack was there too, unfortunately

load 1,612 comments..

jackhughes: now what is this

→ yourusername: i’m already planning on adding z to my collection when the ducks are up here

→ trevorzegras: did u just say collection

→ jackhughes: so you wanna be friends with all my friends but i try and be friends w u and i’m gross? ouch

→ yourusername: have u ever considered that you’re my teams rival

→ jackhughes: i’ve considered it and also decided it won’t stop me

→ yourusername: have you considered that you’re icky

→ jackhughes: wtf

_quinnhughes: ankle biter

→ yourusername: it was his shoulder and i can bite him whenever i want

nyrangers: traitor :(

→ yourusername: no admin it’s ok it’s the good hughesy

→ lhughes_06: i’ve done nothing to you

→ yourusername: you get in my way a lot

shesterkinigor: funny

→ yourusername: i try

view more comments..

njdevils

liked by yourusername, dougieham and 17,444 others

njdevils: we guess this one’s not so bad 😉 @yourusername

view 592 comments..

user: this is.. unsettling

user: him patting her after every connection was top tier i need her in a devs jersey

yourusername: don’t let this fool you i still like quinn better

→ jackhughes: will you let me have this one

→ yourusername: you’re lucky i didn’t throw the game just so you’d lose

→ lhughes_06: there’s always next year

nyrangers: we can admit that this one (1) thing is cute

→ yourusername: enemies to lovers??????

→ nyrangers: no, y/n.

→ yourusername: ok attitude

jackhughes: thanks for the passes or whatever @yourusername

→ yourusername: shut up

user: they’re sleeping in the same hotel room??

→ yourusername: no j just commits some light b&e in his free time

→ jackhughes: did you just call me j

→ yourusername: i also called you a felon

→ trevorzegras: i think he’s just gonna look right past that

user: loving the full blown conversations happening in comment sections lately

view more comments..

yourusername

liked by elblue6, dougieham and 179,537 others

yourusername: ⛽️

view 2,029 comments..

jackhughes: i thought nyers hard launched 🤨

→ yourusername: do you have my notifs on??

→ jackhughes: no comment

user: those are jacks hands

→ user: why do you… know that, even?

user: this is why the nhl is all men lmao they aren’t focused on fucking their opponents

→ yourusername: oh babe.. i have some news for you

→ user: ITS A PLAYER?????????

dougieham: gross

→ yourusername: behave douglas

lhughes_06: what pro hockey player has another man tie her skates for her

→ yourusername: the kind that knows your address and will take your ligaments away

nyrangers: our girl

→ user: can i have your girl

→ njdevils: ^

→ nyrangers: no

_quinnhughes: you hurt my brain

→ yourusername: ok

user: THE TYING THE SKATES!!! JACKS SOFT LAUNCH

view more comments..

twitterhockeybropodcast

y/n y/ln has allegedly requested a trade out of new york 👀

722 ❤ 312 ↳ 147 💬

view comments..

dawson1417: you know @/yourusername i’ve heard jerseys pretty nice

→ dawson1417: you wouldn’t even have to move!

→ yourusername: oh boy

trevorzegras: y/n/n y/ln YOU are an anaheim duck

→ _quinnhughes: step back off my teammate

→ yourusername: you’re both delusional

user: awh the guys wanting her on their teams 🥹

colecaufield: i’ll teach you french @/yourusername

→ yourusername: i only want to know the bad words

→ colecaufield: that’s doable

→ yourusername: sold

user: quinn and the honorary hughes’ is cute but WHERE IS JACK??

→ user: right like he hasn’t even liked it

→ user: he took down his soft launch?

edwards.73: you will eventually get to play with me if you go to jersey @/yourusername

→ yourusername: it's really cute that you though this would help build your case ed

→ edwards.73: can't blame a guy for trying

jackhughes: does this mean we can be friends now?

→ yourusername: oh lol sure

→ user: oh this was painful to read

to, j 💥: is everything ok?? read, 6:33pm

to, j 💥: jack what the hell read, 7:12pm

to, j 💥: you can't really be moody cause i requested a trade from a team you don't even play for lmao

from, j 💥: i'm at practice. talk later

to, j 💥: i'm literally with daws and luke right now dude

to, j 💥: wtf did i do?? read, 7:44pm

to, j 💥: since when am i the one begging to make this work????

to, j 💥: you've been telling me for fucking months you didn't care what it meant as long as we could try us out

to, j 💥: you can't tell me how much you want me around one day and work so hard to make me believe you and then completely flip my world around the next that's not fair read, 8:19pm

to, j 💥: i at least deserve an explanation

from, jack: maybe i'm sick of people telling me i'm fucking up my whole life for you and that you're just gonna dump me before the playoffs so i lose focus

to, jack: hello?? lose focus against the team i'm requesting to leave?

to, jack: and who is people? all i've done is prove that i wouldn't fucking do that

to, jack: i'm literally with two of your teammates right now read, 8:25pm

to, jack: whatever, j. i asked for a trade for you lmao

from, jack: how is that for me? you're gonna be in a completely different fucking state and we'll never see each other

to, jack: that's what this is abt?? you could've just said something, j

from, jack: i don't think you can just unrequest the trade, y/n.

from, jack: what's done is done

to, jack: what would've happened if they just traded me regardless of if i asked?? would you have shut me out cause you don't like the distance when it wasn't my fault?

from, jack: that's different and u know it

to, jack: whatever jack

to, jack: see you wednesday

from jack: against the avs?? you got traded to fucking colorado?

to, jack: no. i got traded to the devils.

njdevils

ranger devil 😈 @/yourusername

2922 ❤ 456 ↳ 78 💬

view comments..

yourusername: i've always looked good in red

→ njdevils: our girl

dawson1417: FUCK YEAHHHH

→ yourusername: LEFT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR!!

→ dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR !!!!!!

lhughes_06: i'm gonna get bullied so much more often

→ yourusername: amen to that moosey

→ lhughes_06: no, not amen to that y/n/n

user: again i ask WHERE IS JACK

nicohischier: another one that won't listen to me

→ yourusername: not reporting for duty, cap 🫡

→ nicohischier: i'm not endeared

→ yourusername: fuck yeah you are

trevorzegras: i know i'm not meant to take personal offence to this but i am

→ yourusername: quinn is GROUCHY

→ _quinnhughes: why does jack get all the cool people i want to have a lake house adoptee on the canucks

→ yoursername: just bring petey

→ eliaspettersson_: do not volunteer me for that chaos

user: i'm kinda concerned at the lack of jack and y/n lately like what happened

jackhughes: new liney?

→ yourusername: new liney :)

→ lhughes_06: 🤨

→ user: luke don't expose your brother's weird cryptic comments as being weird and cryptic challenge

→ lhughes_06: hmm no

njdevils

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes and 34,899 others

njdevils: we think we've seen this film before and we loved the ending (bratter - jack - y/n/n line supremacy)

view 583 comments..

jackhughes: start building the statue

→ yourusername: fucking right

user: the way that she just screamed in his face on her first assist to his goal i could SOB

→ user: and his fucking SMILE BACK AT HER

→ user: and her third goal!! the jump into his arms

user: in love w them actually

→ njdevils: us too

lhughes_06: they should've smooched on centre ice with the hats falling down

→ lhughes_06: what lol who said that

dawson1417: RIGHT LOCKER NEIGHBOUR DID THAT

→ yourusername: i couldn't have done wonderwall with out your harmonizing merc

→ dawson1417: i do have the voice of an angel

trevorzegras: i love how it feels to be a hater

→ _quinnhughes: ^

→ yourusername: wonderwall concert, 5pts, and i got quinn hughes to agree with trevor zegras. i am her.

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier and 289,111 others

yourusername: j <3

view 677 comments..

jackhughes: favourite liney?

→ yourusername: forever liney

lhughes_06: open your messages you demonic being

→ yourusername: do u know how much EFFORT that is

→ lhughes_06: i could imagine it's not a lot??

dawson1417: yucky

→ yourusername: we facetime like teenaged girls n you and ryleigh screeched in excitement when you recognized his room this morning

→ dawson1417: ok???? i screeched cause of the yuckiness

_quinnhughes: i guess you not being a canuck is tolerable if this is the outcome

→ trevorzegras: speak for yourself quintin i want her to be my liney forever 😾

→ yourusername: sorry z <3

→ jackhughes: she's not sorry

→ yourusername: i'm sort of sorry

→ trevorzegras: good enough!

user: SCREAMING AND CRYING OMG

→ user: WE'VE BEEN WAITING

user: mom n dad

dougieham: this is terrefying

→ yourusername: ok

john.marino97: new reality tv show live in the locker room except theres no drama it's just hughesy being whipped

→ yourusername: your favourite!

→ john.marino97: i hate every second

njdevils: it's not like we saw this coming or anything

→ yourusername: ADMIN

view more comments..

[manjiroscum]

MARRY? KILL? FUCK!

CHARACTER/S: Bonten

WARNINGS: f!reader, explicit sex, mature language, threesome, a bit of slut shaming, bonten just being bonten, doggystyle, full nelson, protected sex (use of pills), creampie, just a lot of filth :p, sanzu's a bit of an asshole, strip game, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

NOTE: hi! here is the third fic for the collection :) took a lot of time bc uni and life got too hectic huhu anyway, i hope you enjoy it! (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)♪

MASTERLIST

SYNOPSIS: Another slow day at work meant more shenanigans to occur. Haruchiyo Sanzu was adamant to cause trouble and to have you bent over the desk for everyone to see.

WC: 1k

The chances of being shot in the head by Bonten’s notorious pink-haired assailant had a much lower probability of happening than the wine bottle never landing on you. The whole ordeal wouldn't have been daunting if it were a normal truth-or-dare game. But of course, the rest of Bonten’s higher-ups were bored out of their minds and suggested a little twist in the game. It was either you picked truth or dare and did them… Or avoid it and strip. Lips in a grim line, you ignored the drunken hollers by the Haitani brothers as you unbuttoned your blouse. There was no way in hell you would admit that you slept with Takeomi in Mikey’s office due to a bet you made with Rindou.

No way in hell.

Curse these bastards for inviting you, their ever-lovely secretary, to this stupid game when you could've gone home early since Mikey wasn't around. When the big cat wasn't around to intimidate, every rotten mouse was up to play. And play, they did. Sanzu was even more adamant about making you answer the most difficult questions because it was fun to torment you especially now that you were only clad in your stockings, pencil skirt, underwear, and bra.

“Seriously, this game must be rigged!” You sat back down, brows furrowed and unaware of the lingering gazes on your supple breasts covered by a lace bra. “Most of you guys haven't even stripped much. Why am I getting the craziest dares and questions, huh?”

This was definitely to teach you a lesson not to get ahead with yourself thinking you can best these men in a game. As much as you knew their dirty secrets within the organization, they too, knew yours. What made them annoyingly frustrating to deal with was how they utilized it to bring you to your knees.

“Alright then,” Rindou rubbed his hands as if he has foreseen the future when the bottle pointed at you and him. Fighting back the urge to slap yourself for joining this stupid game, you listened as he gave you the options. “Truth or dare, princess. What do you choose?”

To use your answers against you was what Sanzu Haruchiyo and Haitani Rindou were begrudgingly good at. This tactic had you stripping your pencil skirt when you refused to answer the question Rindou gave you and the dare option was as equally brazen. Perhaps after a few more rounds, you were sure you would exit the building all nude. However, just as you were about to spill your woes, the pink-haired man got up and instantly pulled you from your seat without breaking a sweat. The next thing you know, you were bent over Mikey’s desk. Eyes wide, you blinked twice.

“W-what the—”

“Why won’t you answer the simple question, sweetheart? We’re not gonna kill ‘ya if your pussy decides it likes me better than Ran.”

“Sanzu, you dick, I heard that!”

The scars on either side of his lips stretched as he grinned down at your vulnerable form, his hard-on pressed against your ass that was too difficult to ignore. Wishing for it to go away would be stupid to do as well.

“I mean, aren’t you curious boys? A simple question as to who she wants to kill, marry or fuck isn’t something that’ll cause us to slit each other's throats. A slut like her should be shared by us.” Pulling back, Sanzu stepped aside for everyone to see your ass still clad in your panties. But not for long as he hooked his finger and pulled down the lacy thong, tongue tucked between his lips as he did so.

Such an obedient thing you were, spouting for him to stop yet doing nothing to make him halt in his actions. A few of the men swallowed hard at the sight of your bare ass and damp pussy lips, aching to fill your holes.

“Gonna ask you one last time, sweetheart. Be a dear and answer Rin’s question. He thought long and hard about it, you see.” Ignoring the huff the younger Haitani made, Sanzu smirked. “Fuck, marry, kill? Unless of course, you’re such a big slut that you want to fuck us all?”

The safest answer you took was what led you to be on all fours, Ran’s cock in your mouth and Sanzu thrusting his from behind. Rindou’s thick fingers were busy toying with your nipples as Kakucho rubbed himself to the sinful scene in front of him. Milky semen coated your back, belonging to the brothers and Kakucho after being coaxed by Sanzu to see who has the thickest load that will definitely knock you up. You ignored their silly banter, trusting the pill you religiously took. The air conditioner in Mikey’s office was either broken or was blowing cold air quite poorly due to how hot your flesh felt against their cool skin. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoed around, driving you all insane. Your eyes rolled back at Sanzu’s long cock hitting that favorite spot of yours.

They continued to switch positions, adamant for everyone to have at least a turn inside your cum-filled pussy. You felt your lower stomach bloat up at how much semen was inside. The game and wine bottle were forgotten, replaced with a much more engaging game where nobody loses. This was what you’ve always wanted, a secret you’ve kept to yourself. And now that it was happening, perhaps the teasing at the strip game earlier was worth going through.

“Too bad Takeomi and Mikey are missing out on this cunt.”

“Nah, the old man would probably complain about his back and Mikey’s not interested whenever we’re around.”

“Hey, Kaku, she’s blacking out. Wake her up.”

Kakucho hoisting you up and doing the standing full nelson position wasn’t something you anticipated. Everyone was amazed at how much of their cum spilled out when he thrust his thick cock inside your weeping pussy, your teeth gritted at the tight fit. He has always been the biggest of them, rendering you a bit dizzy as he pistoned his hips. Not minding your fucked up state, Sanzu bent down to be on eye level with you, a grin on his pretty face.

“What do you say after we grant your wish, sweetheart?”

“T-thank, a-ah, hu…♡”

taglist: @imkumichan @pyrsqrd @ploylulla @wakaslut @ranilingus @tobidabio @zuuki @leavemealonebutinpink @kamisoria @wakasa-wifey @keijisprettygirl @marism-tr @stffychn @manjirousagi @tokyometronetwork

[snooyaki]

𓂃.ᐟ 𖦹 MOTH TO A FLAME

paring ୨୧ : taesan x female reader

genre ୨୧ : angst

warnings ୨୧ : taesan is an ass, alcohol, aggressive makeout, cussing

wc ୨୧ : 2669

a/n : im back w a taesan fic FINALLYYY!! pls listen to this song while reading!! moth to a flame by the weeknd is what inspired me! hope u all enjoy 💋

all your friends say hes the one, his love for you is true.

SHE COULD NOT STOP thinking about the way his hands cupped her face, smashing his soft plush lips against hers as they kissed roughly to the point it left her lips all swollen and bruised the next morning.

or the feeling of his fingertips grazing over her waist before giving it a tight squeeze as he pressed her up against the wall, nipping at the thin skin of her neck.

god, y/n could think about him all day long.

“y/n! you should totally go for him!”

y/n snapped out of her daydreams, her eyes trailing from the wall, to her friend who sat in front of her. the girl blinked a few times, realization slowly hitting her.

she had just dozed off for the third time that day. she needed to get a hold of herself.

y/n rubbed the nape of her neck with a soft embarrassed chuckle, tilting her head to the side with slight shame.

“sorry … what are we talking about again..?”

wonyoung groaned as she rolled her eyes in annoyance. “hellooo, we’re talking about myeong jaehyun!” she reminded, her lips pouted slightly as she frowned at you not listening to her.

right, the upperyear myeong jaehyun. the captain of the soccer team and the school’s sweetheart. y/n’s friends had been trying hard to set the two up after finding out that jaehyun had just a little crush on you, a little meaning a lot.

you were pretty, kind, and lit up a room with your warm smile. how could myeong jaehyun not fall for a girl like you?

despite all the attention she received at school, she showed no interest in any of the boys around her. sure jaehyun was good looking, played soccer, and had such a good personality, but y/n showed little to no interest in the soccer boy. the girl’s friends had always wondered why, but never wondered because of who.

“he obviously likes you y/n, why dont you just give it a shot?” minji piped in, finally lifting her nose out of her book she had been hooked on for days.

y/n shook her head with a sigh, reaching into her bag to bring out the compact mirror she planned on using to make herself look “busy”.

“im not interested in myeong jaehyun.” you stated, staring at the three girls surrounding you before opening up your mirror as your eyes scanned your face.

the lipstain was rubbing off, slightly revealing your bruised lips. y/n had decided to wear a darker plum coloured lip shade in attempts to hide the bruising. it seemed to be doing a good job considering none of her friends had noticed. at least the concealer covering your dark hickey was holding up.

“but y/nnn! myeong jaehyun is so good for you, hes perfect!” sullyoon beamed excitedly, her eyes watching as you swipe the soft applicator across your bottom lip while concentrating on your reflection in the mirror.

“cant talk, busy.” you mutter, causing all three girls to let out an exasperated groan.

“myeong jaehyun huh? i agree.”

y/n knit her eyes brows as she gazed up, only wishing she hadnt. it wasn’t odd for him to show up whenever y/n was hanging out with her friends. his best friends, jungwon and leehan, were friends with hers, wonyoung and sullyoon. but no matter how many times she could see him in a day, she would always be taken by surprise.

“see, even jungwon agrees.” minji sighed, shaking her head as the three boys came to sit with the girls.

y/n felt a shiver go down her spine seeing him take a seat diagonally across from her, fighting every urge she had to not look his way.

“jaehyun is a good guy, right taesan?”

leehan nudged his friends shoulder to get his attention, watching as the boy shrugged his shoulders with a disinterested nod. “hes alright.”

“y/n, hey!”

speak of the devil.

the group look up to be met with none other than a smiling myeong jaehyun, whos attention was all on you. it took your friends everything in them to not stop squealing, hitting each other in excitement.

y/n smiled lightly back at the male, slowly scooting down in her seat to make room for the other. “hi jaehyun, no soccer practice today?” you question as the male takes a seat next to you happily.

jaehyun shakes his head like an obedient puppy, gazing at you with nothing but love in his eyes. “not today, i thought id come see you.” he chuckled, as you lightly smile in response.

“so cute ….” wonyoung whispered to minji next to her as they fangirled at the sight of you two together.

no one seemed to notice the smirk playing over taesans lips, as he watched you and jaehyun interact closely, and carefully.

no one seemed to notice but you.

ೀ

but does he know you call me when he sleeps?

“so, myeong jaehyun huh?”

you roll his eyes at the mention of his name, running a hand through your hair as you flipped onto your stomach, laying on the bed with your feet in the air.

“dont mention his name, taesan.” the girl sighed, resting her chin against the palm of her hand.

you could hear taesans sinister chuckle on the other side of the line. you can just see the stupid smirk he has on his face.

“why? i wanna talk about it.” taesan hummed in response.

“does he know about me?”

y/n shook her head with a light huff. in all honesty, you were a bit upset at taesan. y/n didn’t know why or how she ended up on the phone with him at 1:16 am. but thats how every night went. well, those nights they werent together.

but does he know the pictures that you keep?

y/n had been spending her night peacefully on her bed, soft music playing from her speakers as she scrolled through her phone aimlessly, before finding herself going through her photos. more specifically, the photos you and taesan had taken together the morning after a steamy night. all bundled in your bedsheets, naked, and holding each other close.

thats how you found your way to the phone app, pressing on taesans contact.

in all honesty, you were upset at him after finding him in the washroom of a party kissing another girl. after catching him you two broke out in a huge fight. its not the first time it had happened. you two were nothing but friends with benefits. but of course, as always someone catches feelings within that relationship. that someone was you.

“im not talking about this with you taesan.” you reply shortly, and bluntly. taesan could tell you were upset.

“are you still upset?” taesan questioned in a taunting and irritated tone. that was enough to get you all riled up again.

“i dont know, you tell me.” she spat viciously, hearing a scoff coming from the male on the other line.

“oh dont start-“

“you were supposed to be with me that night!” you shouted at him, your hands catching a hold on one of your stuffed animals as you squeezed it to your chest for comfort, sitting up from your laid position before taking a deep breath, “but no, like the dick you are you just had to be fucking another girl when you told me you would stick by me that night- you know what i dont know why i trusted you. this always fucking happens with you!!” y/n finally concluded, feeling herself get choked up with tears at the end.

but does he know the reasons that you cry?

you were crying again. crying all because of han taesan.

“the fuck did i tell you that night, y/n?” taesan spat, causing you to almost flinch from the venom dripping from his voice.

“stop acting like we’re dating.”

y/n held her breath at his words. right. they weren’t dating. she had somehow forgot that when spilling out her emotions just now.

“youre really fucking annoying, you know that? god. we arent even dating and you’re just so suffocating.” taesan groaned.

his words hit her like a stone. tears were spilling from her eyes as she tried her best to keep quiet. she could not let han taesan hear her cry, although she knew he knew.

“we’re over taesan. i fucking mean it.” your shaky voice concluded. you couldnt take it anymore. you needed to be free from satan himself.

“baby, there wasnt even a beginning to start with.”

“go to hell.” you growled, ready to just hang up the phone before taesan had spoke, causing you to pause in your tracks.

“no matter how much love he gives you, you’ll always come back.” taesans voice spoke eerily, causing you to run a hand through your hair frustratedly, a sniffle coming from you as you continued to silently sob.

you knew it was true.

“you’ll never escape me.”

ೀ

buzz, buzz, buzz!

y/n’s phone would not stop buzzing as the girl stared at the device that lay on her bed in distress. no. you couldnt. you cant answer that damn phone.

you could not give in to han taesan this time.

“y/n!” sullyoon, snapping y/n out of her thoughts as she gazed her attention up towards the girl appearing from out of her closet. “should i wear this tonight?” the girl questioned, as she smiled, nodding her head in approval.

“you’ll look so pretty yoon.” you hummed, as she nodded her head retreating back into the closet.

it had been two weeks since your last argument with taesan over the phone, and two weeks since you last spoke to him.

it had never went on for that long. y/n was scared. no matter how badly taesan treated her, she was scared of losing him.

so, she decided to spend a lot more time with jaehyun.

she knew it was wrong, using jaehyun to get over taesan, as well as get back at him. all of her friends approved of this sudden change. they really believed jaehyun was the perfect guy for her.

“your boyfriend is the best y/n, tell him thanks for getting us into this party.” minji hummed, focusing as she dabbed eyeshadow onto her eyelid.

y/n shook her head with a soft sigh and an eyeroll as she sat at her vanity, gazing into the mirror and lightly curling her hair.

“hes not my boyfriend.”

“yet.” wonyoung intervened, spritzing perfume on her neck before looking at you. “not your boyfriend yet.” she snickered.

after an eternity y/n and the girls had finally finished getting ready, making their way inside the huge house party as the booming music rang through their ears.

“oh! guys its jaehyun- y/nnn its jaehyunnn!” wonyoung slurred, as minji and sullyoon squealed in excitement.

maybe you four went a little hardcore during your pregame.

“hey … you guys okay?” jaehyun chuckled lightly, eyes widening at the sight of you stumbling.

jaehyun quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying your balance. you, drunk and in heels was not a good combination.

y/n’s red face gazed up at jaehyun, a tipsy smile playing over her lips. “jaehyun!” she cheered, wrapping her arms around the males neck latching onto him with her dear life.

jaehyun was flustered. it was her first time making physical contact with him. although you were drunk, he loved it.

“hey y/n,” jaehyun chuckled, snaking his arm around your waist as he gazed down at you with a blush over his cheeks. “come on, lets get you some water.” jaehyun suggested, guiding you through the busy crowd.

“no!” you exclaimed, grabbing jaehyuns hand before dragging him with much force towards the dance floor. “come on, lets dance.”

it didnt take much for jaehyun to give in, and forget about grabbing the drunken girl a cup of water. here he was, dancing with you on the dance floor as your bodies pressed against each other from the crowd.

you knew he was watching.

there taesan stood, a drink in his hand as he leaned up against the kitchen doorway, watching you and jaehyun like a hawk. his grip on his red solo cup grew tighter, and tighter as he watched you and jaehyun get closer, and closer.

he didnt know why he was so upset. taesan swore he only liked y/n for casual hookups. but no, with the feeling of jealousy raising inside of him, he didnt have time to think and reason with himself.

“hey, han. you okay?” a voice spoke, although not catching taesans attention whatsoever as his eyes remained on the pair.

taesan downed his drink in one harsh gulp, wiping the alcohol spilling from the sides of his mouth before throwing his cup aside.

“im fine.” he stated coldly, fiercely making his way towards you.

taesan shoved past the crowd aggressively causing others to stumble at the determination. the boy grabbed jaehyun’s shoulder, pulling him away from you with much force.

“hey- what the fuck man??” jaehyun shouted, displeased. but it didnt phase taesan, who was busy staring down at the girl.

“youre coming with me.” he growled, causing you to raise your eyebrows in shock.

taesan grabbed your wrist, making his way through the crowd as he yanked you with him.

“hey!- hey taesan- ow! stop!!” you shouted, although taesan paid no attention to your discomfort.

or tell me does he know where your heart lies?

y/n took a deep breath of crisp air when finally out of the crowd, gazing around curiously in attempt to identify where they were headed.

“slow down tae!” you exclaim, drunkly struggling to keep up with his pace.

it all happened so fast.

taesan grabbed the bathroom door, yanking it open as he pulled you inside and shoved you up against the wall. the taller then slammed his hands on either side of your head, causing a small flinch.

you would be lying if you said you hadn’t found this action deadly attractive.

“what the fuck was that stunt you pulled over there?” taesan questioned, cocking his head to the side in a taunting way.

“what are you talking about? why does it matter to you.” y/n hissed back, gazing into taesans eyes daringly.

your reply only infuriated him more, lifting a hand from the wall as he harshly grabbed your face, a sound in surprise escaping past your glossed lips.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.”

with that, taesans lips came crashing down onto yours. the two shared a heated, yet passionate and longing kiss. a kiss full of desire, and desperation. it was different from all your other kisses. a good different.

“i want you, y/n. shit i want you so bad.” taesan muttered into the kiss as you felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

god this boy will be the death of you.

taesan wrapped his free arm around your waist, grazing and touching you as much as he could as his hand landed on your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. y/n knit her eyebrows, moaning into the messy kiss and arching her back in response.

“then have me. for real.” you replied, causing him to pull away. your eyes trailed down to his swollen lips, seeing your tinted lip gloss smeared all over his chin. it was quite a sight to see.

taesan stood quiet, his heavy eyes gazing into the girls as nothing but the muffled booming music and their heavy breaths echoing through their ears.

“youre mine, l/n y/n.” taesan finally stated. “youre mine, and no one else’s. you hear me?” the male spoke, his hand tugging your face closer to his.

y/n nodded in response, a playful smile over her lips. “i hear you han taesan.”

where it truly lies.

— nari ¨̮

#ˋ ୨୧ ˊTAGS !

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Valentine’s Day smut w Ethan Landry since tomorrow Valentine’s Day and I’m kinda lonely 🥲

I ended up going all in on this lmao. It's 3.6k words, I hope you like it!!!

The Admirer - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After swearing off Valentine's Day, your secret admirer gives you hope that not all guys suck.

Contains: *Oral - f and m recieving, fluff, inexperienced!Ethan*

A/N: I got another request after this one for a non-smut Valentine's Day fic, and I might not make it to that one today. I'm so sad about it😫

Valentine’s Day, or as you liked to call it ‘Just another regular day’, isn’t something you celebrated. You used to hope that someone would do something special for you, but after your previous boyfriend dropped the ball every single year and didn’t see the point of celebrating it when you’d go all out for him, you stopped caring about the holiday. This year, with you being single, you were happy that you weren’t going to feel disappointed by the lack of someone else’s effort.

As you got up to get ready, your roommate was heading out the door to get to her first class early.

“Awww,” you heard her say, angling your head to see what she was talking about. “There’s some balloons and roses out here.”

“Who do you think left it for you?” you asked, as she shook her head.

“No babe, this is for you. Look!” She brought the basket containing all the cute Valentine’s Day stuff over to you. You glanced at the tag, seeing your name. “This is so cute! It doesn’t say who it’s from, though.”

“This is probably some kind of prank,” you scoffed, as she rolled her eyes.

“What college kid is going to spend that kind of money on long stemmed red roses for a prank?” she asked, smiling at you. “You have a secret admirer!”

You tried to fight the smile that was forming on your lips, but you couldn’t. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

“Ooh, they left a card, too,” she said, pulling the envelope out of the basket. “Open it!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez,” you said, peeling the heart-shaped sticker that was sealing the envelope.

You smiled as you started to read it, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“What does it say?” she squealed, as you giggled at her excitement. “Sorry, this is just so cute. I need to know.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “It says: I hope you don’t mind me doing this for you. I think you’re really special, and you deserve to be treated like you are. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight if you’re interested. I know it’d be easier for you to make that decision if you know who I am, but I’m a little nervous. I got you a present, and if you do want to take a chance with me, I’d like you to wear it. I’ll see you around today, and if you are wearing it, I’ll meet you in the flower garden at seven.”

Your roommate saw a jewelry box sitting in the basket, “Oh shit, this must be what he wants you to wear!”

She grabbed it and handed it to you. As you opened the box, you smiled at the sweet gesture. “It’s a necklace with a little heart on it,” you squealed, showing her before snapping the box shut.

“Are you going to wear it?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, I think I can give whoever that did all this for me a chance,” you said, taking the necklace out of the box and hooking the clasp around the back of your neck.

“He said he’ll see you around today, I wonder who it is,” she sat there thinking. “I bet it’s someone you already know.”

“That’s the thing, I know a lot of people. Fingers crossed that it isn’t the creepy English professor,” you sighed, starting to get nervous.

“I don’t think it’s him. There’s no way he’d walk into our dorms with roses and balloons and drop them off outside a student’s door,” she said, “Okay, get up! You need to get ready so you can figure out who this is!”

You made it through your first two classes of the day, and still had no idea who your secret admirer was. You were hoping that it would be obvious. When you sat down to have lunch with your friends, Tara looked over and saw the necklace.

“Aww, that’s so cute! Is it new?” she asked, as Ethan and Chad walked up to the table, sitting down with their lunch.

“Yeah, someone left some stuff outside of my dorm for me this morning. This was in a jewelry box,” you smiled, as Tara started to get excited.

“Do you know who left it?” Mindy asked, glancing over to Ethan.

“No, but whoever it is wants me to meet them in the flower garden at seven,” you smirked, “I’m really excited.”

Ethan was trying to fight the smile on his face as Chad fist-bumped him under the table.

“That’s really sweet, I bet he’s a good dude,” Chad said, taking a bite of his food.

“I hope so. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you said, “I was hoping I’d figure out who it was before tonight. The card that was with the stuff said he’ll see me around today.”

“Maybe you already have seen him today,” Mindy mumbled as she scrolled through her phone.

“Yeah, maybe,” Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was starting to wonder what your reaction would be later in the night when you walked out to the flower garden and saw him sitting there. As happy as you were with what he’d done for you, he was still scared of rejection. “I think I need to get to my next class.”

“Dude, it doesn’t start for thirty minutes,” Chad said, before noticing the anxiety on Ethan’s face. “But I don’t blame you for wanting to beat the heavy foot traffic.”

“Yeah, it can get a little crazy. I’ll see you guys later,” Ethan said, standing up and throwing away the rest of his food.

“That was weird,” Mindy said, as Chad nudged her with his foot under the table. “What?”

After lunch, the rest of the day flew by. When you made it back to your dorm, your roommate helped you get ready.

“You look so cute!” she said, taking in your appearance. You didn’t know what your secret admirer would be wearing, so you were really hoping you weren’t underdressed.

“Yeah, but what if he shows up in like, a suit or something,” you laughed, looking down at the outfit.

“This guy has to know you. I highly doubt he’d show up like that,” she said, adding some light blush to your cheeks. “You look hot, don’t overthink it.”

You grabbed your phone, the ‘6:40’ on the screen making you nervous.

“Fuck, I need to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Be safe. Text me if you need me,” she smiled, walking you to the door.

The February air was chilly as it started to get darker outside. Your hands slid inside your jacket pockets as you walked the path to the garden. The only flowers bloomed were the winter ones, but the fountains and the soft glow of the lights on the ground made everything look so beautiful in the distance. You saw someone sitting on the bench, your heart racing as you stepped closer.

“Ethan?” you asked, your eyes adjusting to see one of your best friends sitting there. You were relieved when you saw him in his normal attire.

“Hey,” he said, “Sorry if this is a little weird.”

You smiled at him as you sat beside him on the bench.

“You’re the one that left me that stuff this morning?” you asked as he rubbed his hands against his lap.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that it’s me.”

“Why would I be disappointed?” you asked, taking one of his hands in yours, attempting to calm his nerves. He smiled at the gesture. “I’m happy it’s you.”

“Really?” he smiled, “I’ve been so nervous all day.”

“If you would’ve asked me out, I would’ve said yes. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you did all this for me, but you didn’t have to,” you said, as he started to rub his thumb against the top of your hand.

“You’re worth it. I got the idea the other day when we were at Tara’s, and you were talking about your ex never doing anything special for you. It bummed me out because I think you’re amazing and deserve the world. I thought today would be the perfect time to shoot my shot,” he started to laugh, “If I knew you were interested, I would’ve said something sooner.”

“I think you picked the perfect time,” you said, as his eyes looked between yours and your lips. He started to lean in, but then he just stopped.

“Uh, maybe we should get to dinner,” he said, looking away and standing up.

He grabbed your hand as you stood up. You started to walk towards the garden exit when you stopped him.

“Wait,” you said, standing in front of him. He looked confused as you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. You stood on your tippy toes as he leaned down to kiss you. He had a goofy smile on his face when you pulled away. “I thought this was the perfect spot for our first kiss.”

“I think it’s the perfect spot for our second one, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Now, let’s go to dinner.”

“Okay,” you giggled.

He held your hand as you walked down the sidewalk towards the restaurants on campus. You bumped into Chad and Tara outside of the cute little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the friend group regularly liked to go to. Chad was excited, while Tara was confused.

“Wait! Ethan was your secret admirer?” she asked, looking up to Chad. She stared him down as she realized he already knew. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you tell her everything,” Chad said, motioning to you, “Mindy knew, too.”

“What the fuck?” she said, smiling as she looked at your hand in Ethan’s. “You better treat her right.”

“I will,” he said, “We’re going to dinner, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Chad shook his head, “No, I’m staying at Tara’s tonight.”

“Oh, cool. You guys have fun,” he said, waving as you walked into the restaurant.

Chad and Tara walked in a few minutes later, sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. They didn’t want to make things weird, even though you kept catching Tara glance over to you.

“So, you had no idea it was me?” he asked, after the waitress took the drink order.

“No, I didn’t think you were interested in me.” His eyes went wide.

“I’ve always been interested. Since the first day Tara invited you to have lunch with us,” he smiled, “Chad tried to push me to ask you out.”

“So why didn’t you?” you questioned, as the drinks were sat down in front of you.

“I guess it was the whole ‘the hot girl could never want the dorky virgin’ thing,” you started to laugh.

“If anything, I think it’s hot that you’re a virgin,” you smirked, his cheeks turning pink as he sat across from you. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s the innocence factor.”

“So, if we had sex, would you be less into me?” he started to get embarrassed, “Wait, forget I said that. That was dumb.”

Watching him get so flustered as he spoke and stumble over his words was adorable. You didn’t want to keep the conversation sexual with it being the first date, but you did need to assure him.

“No, it would be even hotter that you wanted to do that with me,” you smirked, taking his hand in yours on top of the table. “But there’s no rush for that. I don’t want you to think it’s a deal breaker for me if you want to wait.”

“Okay, that’s good to know,” he said, moving his hand from yours so the waitress had room to set the food down. “Thank you,” he said to her as she walked away.

After both of you ate, Ethan wasn’t ready for the night to end.

“Do you want to come to my dorm? We could watch a movie or something,” he said, lacing his fingers in yours.

“Sure,” you smiled, as he led the way. “As long as it’s something that’s so romantic it’ll make me cry.”

He started to laugh, “Deal.”

When you made it to the dorm, he suggested Titanic.

“You know it’s three hours long, right?” you asked, sitting on his bed.

“It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you,” he shrugged, grabbing his laptop. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

You snuggled against him as he pushed play, his arm wrapping around you as he held you close. His hand started to rub your side; the simple motion very soothing.

“Okay, I need to sit up for a minute or I’m going to fall asleep,” you said, removing your head from his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind if you fell asleep on me,” he said, turning his head to kiss you.

“Yeah, but then I’d ruin the rest of the date,” you said, kissing him again.

His hand went to the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your lips flowed so well with his. You were both getting turned on when he pulled away. You had a confused look on his face, and as badly as he wanted to keep going, he cared about you too much.

“I don’t want you to think this is all I want from you,” he said, his breathing heavy.

“I know it’s not, but I told you earlier, we can wait as long as you want to.”

You laid your head back on his chest, trying to focus on the movie when you noticed the bulge in his jeans. It took everything in you to turn the attention back to the movie. You almost felt wrong to feel this way, but you’d known him for almost a year. It wasn’t like this was the first time the two of you had spent time together.

As Rose and Jack started to fall in love, you felt his hand rubbing against your side again. You didn’t feel like you could fall asleep this time as the movie started to get interesting.

“Hey,” Ethan said, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Mhm,” you said, angling your neck so his lips could reach yours. The position wasn’t that comfortable for you, and he could tell, so he scooted you off of him and hovered over you.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning in closer. You nodded before he connected his lips to yours. His hand went to your hip as yours went to his hair. When your shirt started to slip up a little and his fingers brushed against the exposed skin, you gently pushed him off you.

His eyes were dark with lust, you were sure yours looked the same.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, “I’m sorry If I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just, uh, fuck,” you sighed as he waited for you to continue, “You’re really, uhm…fuck it. You’re making me wet.”

“Really?” he smirked, trying to hide his excitement that his lack of experience didn’t seem to matter.

“Yeah, the way you’re kissing me is just…ugh,” you groaned, the sexual frustration evident to Ethan.

“You could let me take care of you,” he said, his hand running along your thigh over your jeans.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” you questioned; he quickly nodded his head. “But what about you, though?”

“We can talk about that after,” he said, leaning back down to kiss you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He started to slide your shirt up your torso as you sat up a little to make it easier for him to pull it over your head. His mouth started to kiss along the newly exposed skin, stopping at the top of your breasts.

“Can you help me with this?” he laughed, as you reached behind yourself and unhooked it. “Okay, I think I’ve got it from here.”

He slid the straps down your arms and tossed your bra to the other side of the room. You started to whimper when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling across it before he switched to the other side. His hands were running along your thigh, over your pussy and up to the button of your jeans.

When he unbuttoned them and started to slide the material down your legs, the anticipation was killing you. You felt how his mouth moved against your nipples, desperate to know how good his mouth would feel when he ate you out. Your whimpers got louder at his actions and your own thoughts.

He started to kiss lower, your body squirming underneath him.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Mhm,” your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you even lower over the material of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, leaning back to slide those down your legs, too. “If what I’m doing doesn’t feel good, will you tell me?”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, but yes, I will,” you smiled, your breathing heavy.

He leaned in, the simple lick to your clit making your hips jolt. He looked back up at you, “That felt good, keep doing that.”

His tongue flicked again as he watched you. Your hand went to his hair when you looked down at him, the eye contact turning you on even more.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, as his tongue dipped inside of you. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise you were giving him went straight to his throbbing cock. He was proud of himself, happy that he was making you feel good. He’d thought about this so many times, and this was better than he could’ve ever imagined.

His mouth continued to move against you, going back to your clit as he slipped a finger inside your core that was dripping with both his spit and your own arousal.

“Right there,” you gasped as he angled his finger just right.

“Can I use two?” he asked, as he pulled away from your sensitive clit.

“Please,” you said, as he added another finger. “Oh my god.”

“That feel good?” he asked, watching the way your eyebrows knitted together and your jaw dropped.

“Yes,” you moaned out, his fingers making your orgasm start to build.

Your pussy started to occasionally flutter around his fingers. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he knew it must’ve felt good as your moaning got louder. His mouth went back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, as his fingers and mouth kept moving. He felt like he could cum at the feeling of your walls spasming around his fingers, not to mention the borderline-pornographic moans falling out of your mouth.

“How was that?” he asked, crawling up the bed to lay beside you.

“Holy fuck,” you said, your breathing still labored. “That was perfect.”

The throbbing in his cock was starting to get painful as he waited for you to catch your breath. He didn’t want to ask you to do anything for him, because he wanted you to know that everything he’d done for you earlier in the day wasn’t to get into your pants. It was to show you how much he cared about you.

“So…about me taking care of you…” you smirked at him, “Can I?”

“Only if you want to,” he said, “No pressure.”

“Oh, I want to,” you said crawling on top of him.

He sat up a little as you helped him take his shirt off. When you kissed his neck, he started to smile. It felt good, but he also felt the necklace he gave you brushing against him.

As you kissed over his chest and down his abs, he couldn’t stop watching the way your ass stuck up in the air. He almost wanted to cave and fuck you, but he was determined to hold out, at least until next time.

You quickly unbuttoned his jeans as he lifted a little so you could slide them down, grabbing onto his boxers as you did so. His cheeks reddened as he was fully exposed in front of you, nervous about what you thought.

“The shy guys always have the biggest dicks,” you sighed, licking his tip. You watched him as you teased him with the gentle licks, before focusing on taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as you started to suck. “That feels so good.”

Your mouth kept moving, your drool sliding down the rest of his cock that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You started to stroke him, the combination of that and your mouth making his orgasm quickly creep up.

His hand went to your hair as his hips started to thrust a little, making you gag around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, the pretty sound making you suck a little harder.

His eyes screwed shut as he released his hot cum in your mouth. His legs were tingling as you were overstimulating him a little, whines flooding out of his mouth.

“Sorry, babe,” you said after pulling away, “I couldn’t help it. Your cum tastes so good.”

It was your turn to crawl up beside him, laying your head on his chest as he caught his breath.

“Can we do that again sometime?” he asked, his fingers tracing along your back.

“Whenever you want,” you giggled, as he got quiet. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just how hot it was to see you naked wearing nothing but that necklace,” he mumbled, getting sleepy.

When you sat up, his eyes opened. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. When you started to smile as you posed on the bed beside him, he started to laugh.

“Will you draw me like one of your French girls?” you asked, referencing the movie that you didn’t get to finish.

“The best I can do is a stick figure with boobs.”

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

2/10

W/c: 7.7k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

There were a few other people in the gym, but the noise of the punching bag bouncing under the weight of her fists drowned out their voices. The muffled noises coming from them only seemed to agitate her more as she reigned down on the bag. She’s been here for an hour already. She can’t say when she’ll stop. All she knows is that she’s angry. Natasha is upset with herself. It’s been three weeks since the last time she saw you. Three weeks since the last time she spoke to you. She stopped following you after you pleaded for her in the cafe to leave you alone. She wanted to do anything but. She wanted to follow you to your apartment and give that man a piece of her mind and then her fists. Who does he think he is? He doesn’t deserve you. He deserves an early grave.

She tries to push every violent thought about that man out of her mind as she punches again. She imagines the bruises she saw on your skin. No one else saw it but the way you winced. The way you tensed under his touch. It had her blood boiling. It took everything in her not to say anything. At first, she thought she was seeing things. She’s not the best at relationships herself. One thing she’s thankful for is being an expert in body language. She knows the differences in human emotions. She’s studied them extensively to be able to manipulate them. So when she saw how you went from opinionated and lively to meek and quiet under his gaze she knew something was wrong. Natasha breathes out a huff when Steve’s hands wrap around the punching bag. She glares at him as he supports it. She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t want to.

“What’s got the spider in such a mood?” Sam steps over to them. They’d been watching Natasha wail on this bag for a while. They figured they could just ask her what was wrong.

She pauses. Should she tell them? Was it their business to know? You’re their friend too. They miss you all the same.

“Have either of you talked to y/n?” She asks instead. She turns back to the bag. She doesn’t wait for an answer as she fixes her stance and gives the bag a mean right hook. It barely moves under Steve’s stronghold.

“Not in a while,” Steve’s pensive look annoys her just a bit more.

“She hasn’t answered.” Sam shrugs. “I sent her like fifty cooking videos. A guy can take a hint.” He shakes his head.

“She did quit without notice,” Steve begins. “I figured she just doesn’t want to talk to us. It happens.”

“It’s not her,” Natasha says between punches. She knows at that moment she needs to tell them. “She can’t.”

“What is she sick or something?” Sam asks. Natasha stops, dropping her hands beside her before she looks between them.

“She’s not sick. Her boyfriend gets handsy with her.” Natasha explains. “He’s controlling her.”

“What?” She can see the way Steve is going to react. She can tell the both of them will leave the tower right this second in search of you. In search of him. She holds up a hand.

“She didn’t admit it to me at first but I could see the bruises,” Natasha frowns. “That and he practically had her by her throat at Tony’s party.”

“Jesus,” Steve swears. He places a hand on his forehead. “Does she know that you know?”

“She does,” Natasha moves over to take a drink from her water bottle. “I talked with her a couple of weeks ago. She doesn’t want help.”

“It’s that easy? We have to go and get her. She has a kid. What if-” Steve begins but Natasha interrupts him.

“She doesn’t want the help,” Natasha says again. “I tried. She’s convinced herself it’s love.” Natasha frowns. She doesn’t fully understand the hold he has on you.

“Then we have to show her it’s not.” Steve doesn’t let his anger get the best of him. He’s blaming himself now. What if you get hurt? What if Kaia gets hurt? He’s never even met the little girl and he knows how much he wants to protect her. She’s yours. You’re one of his favorite people. How did he not notice? “We can help her leave.”

“Not if she doesn’t want to,” Natasha’s quiet admission is unsettling. They hadn’t thought about that. Did you want to leave?

“Statistically, it takes seven times for a domestic violence victim to leave before it’s for good.” Sam hates to give the numbers. He hates that they even have to be numbered.

“Seven?” It’s too many.

“Seven,” Sam confirms. “She may be ashamed or embarrassed. No one wants to admit they’re in such a vulnerable state. Having a kid just complicates things. With cases like this, I’m no expert, but if she doesn’t have the resources or the money he could win custody.”

“Even if he knocks her around?” Steve seethes. How did he miss this? He tries to comb through every single interaction he’s ever had with you. When he first met you, it was down in the lobby. It was a week into you working at the tower when he approached you. He was the only Avenger that would come down to personally get his packages. He enjoyed ordering drawing supplies off of Amazon. Apparently he only recently discovered it. You told him about a cool store named Michael’s just outside of the city that had tons of art supplies. So he invited you. On your lunch break, you showed him around the store. You were instant friends. He never had an inclination that you were in any sort of danger. He didn’t even know about your daughter. What kind of a friend did that make him?

“If there’s no paper trail or proof of any kind it’s tough,” Sam informs him.

“Don’t go blaming yourself, Cap.” Natasha places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So how do we help?”

“Keep the line of communication open,” Natasha suggests. “I gave her a burner. I don’t know if he has her phone tied up or anything. I told her she can call any time.”

“If and when she comes we allow her to us with open arms,” Sam says. “I’m going to go and make lunch. You hungry?” Steve shakes his head 'no' while Natasha thanks him. “Keep me updated. I’ll keep sending her the videos.” It’s Sam’s way of bonding with you. The news of your situation has rocked both men to the core. Someone they know, someone they love, is being mistreated right under their noses and really there is nothing they can do.

Neither Natasha nor Steve speaks until Sam leaves the gym. Natasha takes another sip from her water bottle. She watches the emotions play out on Steve’s face. She knows the feeling. She feels guilty too.

“How didn’t I notice ?” Steve’s eyes trail up to Natasha.

“Sometimes when you’re going through things like that it’s easier to lie,” Natasha shrugs. “It becomes second nature.”

Steve wants her to elaborate a bit more. He wants to ask her how you’re doing. He has so many questions that he isn’t sure he wants the answer to. His biggest question is how Natasha became your point of contact. As far as he knew neither of you had ever hung out. He would see you converse in passing. He remembers a few times you asked Natasha for her input on a debate with the guys but nothing more. Nothing would lead him to believe either of you were even friends. No matter how he knows that Natasha cares. He could see it in her face that she was bothered by this entire thing. Who wouldn’t be? There was something else he could see on Natasha’s face.

“You like her,” He guesses. Natasha’s brow quirks.

“She’s likable, Rogers.” Natasha dismisses.

“No, it’s-” Steve presses.

“Save it,” Natasha ends whatever he wants to question. She walks out of the gym leaving him to his own devices. She doesn’t want to have this conversation right now. She can’t even entertain the idea. Even if you did leave Keith. Even if you did break up with him, what makes her better than him? She’s killed people for a living. She’s been even more violent than him. Somehow it doesn’t feel the same. She’s not necessarily worthy of someone so good. That doesn’t mean she won’t continue to try and help you.

***************************

If you walk long enough, you come to understand things you never would have realized before. Before living here, you took a car everywhere. Your hometown wasn’t really a walkable city. It’s not something that people did. So you never really paid attention to the people out on the streets. You didn’t have to memorize a bus route. You didn’t interact with the street vendors. Here everything is different. Each day, you’d walk aimlessly around New York City. You had no particular place in mind. You would go wherever your feet would take you. Sometimes you and Kaia would visit Tariq’s Halal Food. He has the most amazing chicken and rice plate. The spices are amazing and he always gives you a little something extra for the baby. Other times you check out the tourists in Times Square. They’re always so excited to be here. They love it. They walk past you without a care in the world.

At mile four, your body protested. You thought you couldn’t go another step. The motivation to remove yourself from the tension of your apartment only pushed you forward. Kaia deserves fresh air. She deserves to feel the tranquility of life outside of those walls. So every single morning, when Keith has left for work, you walk. He has a tracker on your phone. It’s a location app of some kind. He told you he needs to know where you are at all times. For safety.

“It’s too dangerous for such a young and beautiful girl to be in the city without protection.” The irony of that statement. He’s the person you really need protection from. He checks the app ever so often. He knows you won’t push the boundary he’s set. It’s not in you to fight back. You don’t really care to delete it as you know it’ll cause more problems. There will be more conflict. More bruises.

You don’t really have a spot in mind. You’re just walking through Central Park. You spot a park bench that will give you some reprieve from your sore legs. You tap down the stoppers of Kaia’s stroller to sit her beside your legs. She sits in her stroller so patiently. Her cheeks are rosy from the cool air of fall. She coos at the birds flying past. It almost sounds as if she’s mimicking them.

“Mama,” Kaia points a finger towards the pigeon walking past you two. She claps excitedly hoping to get the attention of the bird. "Mama!”

“It’s a bird,” You tell her. She repeats the word.

“Hi!” She waves towards the birds. The bracelet on her wrist jingles as her hand moves.“Hi!” She repeats louder. Her attempts are amusing. She stretches in the stroller. She wants a closer look. That probably won’t be a good idea but you will follow her. You reach over to unbuckle the belt. You hep her out to stand on her own two feet. Kaia crouches down, a determined look on her face, as she coos at the birds again. Her lips purse in frustration as she stands to go a bit closer.

“Hey, Kai, let’s not get too close.” You grab the back of her coat to keep her from going any further.

“No,” Kaia frowns. She shrieks loudly in protest ultimately scaring the birds away.

“You’re a handful you know that,” You laugh as you pick her up.

“Bur!” Kaia shouts into the open.

“I know but we have to be gentle with birds,” You go to sit back on the bench. You place Kaia in your lap but she fights against you. She wants to do the walking now. You allow her to move onto the bench on her own. She stands to look over the back of it. She seems so happy. So unaware. You take another picture of her. She’s bent over the bench, her chin over the top, as she peers down at whatever is on the ground below her. You scroll through your contacts to find your mom’s number. Your thumb wavers over the message button. You want to send her pictures. You want to send her updates. She would love Kaia. So would your dad.

Things have been rocky between you ever since you told them you would be following Keith to New York. They didn’t like the idea at all. They begged you to stay home. Your mom seemed to sense how he wasn’t a nice guy. You fought tooth and nail for them to believe that he is just misunderstood. He loves you. He wants the best for you. When you got pregnant you lost all of your contact with them. They still send you cards on holidays. Your mom still texts you Happy Birthday. You haven’t seen her face in so long. You want to hold her. You want to smell her again. She’s always managed to smell so good. You miss her cooking for you and curling up onto the couch next to you with one of her favorite books.

Keith has managed to isolate you from everyone you’ve ever known. Even now what are you supposed to do with that? Who could you tell? Who would you talk to? Who would want to listen to such a sad case? You can’t even fight back. You can’t even tell him to leave you alone. It’s a struggle every day and still, you stay. When you look at Kaia you have hope. She’s partially his too. Surely, someone who has helped to make something so sweet can’t be all too bad. It may seem dumb but you’re holding onto the small hope that he will change.

“Are you hungry, baby bird?” You ask Kaia. For a moment, you’re reminded of the recipes Sam keeps sending you on Instagram. You’ve turned off your read receipts. He won’t know if you’ve looked at them or not. You do. Every single one. Just like your mother, your finger hovers over the reply button. He wouldn’t care. You don’t really feel like pretending. “Do you want food?” You ask Kaia.

“Food!” Kaia repeats. She turns on the bench, almost toppling over, as she follows the sound of an airplane over you. Your hands catch her before she can fall.

“Okay, let’s go home and eat some food.” You tell her.

You take a long way home. You don’t know why but you pass the tower. You know you won’t be able to glimpse anything from any side. You wonder what everyone is doing tonight. You want so badly to go in. You want to knock on Natasha’s door. Will her offer still be there? You want to introduce them to Kaia. She would love everyone. For just a second you debate going in. You’re not sure that would be a good idea.

So, you push Kaia’s stroller past the building and down to the train. Lunch and a nap will do the both of you good.

****************

It’s the next day and Keith is home for the weekend. He’s not really paid attention to you which is a blessing on its own. Besides his forehead kiss in the morning, and a kiss on the cheek for Kaia he’s been in his own world. He left this morning for a run, he returned to finish up last-minute paperwork, and now he’s been playing his video game for hours. His mood seems decent enough and you stay out of the way. You’re making dinner tonight. A simple pot roast with carrots and potatoes. It’s from one of the recent recipes Sam sent you. This time you dared to reply with a heart. It’s the least you owe him.

“Oh, damn, take a shot!” He shouts into his mic. It seems like a pretty intense game. It’s basketball. You recognize it as the one you used to play together when you were first dating. Kaia is somewhere in front of him with her toys. She’s been pretty clingy today. All-day she’s been asking to be cuddled or carried. You don’t really mind it. Her attention has been turned towards Keith as he’s not usually home with her. She tugs at the leg of his shorts hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t pay any mind to her. She’s not really fazed by his loud screaming. He plays video games every week.

You’re in the kitchen so you can’t really tell what’s going on. You can hear him shout again just as you pull the roast out of the oven. The music you have serves as background noise. You prepare a plate for you and Keith. There’s no sense in giving Kaia her own when she will just want to eat off of both of yours. You bring Keith his plate setting it on the coffee table.

“Thanks, babe,” Keith says too distracted by the game to say much else. Kaia looks at his plate in interest. She tugs at Keith’s shorts again. She wants to share.

“I can take her,” You say and Keith waves you off.

“No, she can sit with me.” He pauses the game to set Kaia onto his lap. He grabs the plate, avoiding her grabby hands, to poke through the food. Kaia leans back into his chest, she waits patiently for him to give her a mouthful. When he does she hums in appreciation. “This is really good. Why haven’t you made this before?”

You sit next to him with your food. You shrug.

“It’s a new recipe,” You inform him. He smiles down at the food before looking down at Kaia. He lets her take a hold of his fork and allows her to feed him this time. He even laughs when she misses most of his mouth. Kaia has that concentrated look on her face as she grabs more of the roast mashing it into her own mouth.

“She’s getting big,” Keith comments. You nod. “I want to bring her to work with me one day. Both of you.” He glances up to gauge your reaction.

“I’d like that,” You say.

“I think I have a big promotion coming up,” He sets his plate down to bounce Kaia in his lap. “Maybe then we could buy a house. A dog? Kaia would love a dog.” He kisses the top of her head. “Then we could get married. I know it’s out of order but I’ve been thinking.”

You stop mid-chew at his words. Everything in your mouth feels thicker as he continues to speak. Marriage? Did you really want to marry him? What would that mean for your future? It makes you sick to your stomach and you quickly try to hide the shock.

“Do you not want to get married?” Keith asks.

“No, I do,” You assure him. You hope it’s a convincing lie. “I just didn’t think this was the way you’d ask.”

“Oh,” Keith looks down at Kaia thoughtfully. “I didn’t think you were the type of girl that would want the whole proposal thing. I mean we’ve been together for four years now. I thought it was just implied.”

Just implied. Was he that out of touch with you and your feelings? Did he really not care? It’s upsetting that even with everything he’s put you through he can’t seem to get it right. Did he even love you?

Of course, he does. He’s here with you. He hasn’t left you. He’s the only one that hasn’t left.

“Okay,” You say finally.

“Good, we can spend as much as you want on the wedding,” Keith says. “Maybe even invite your friends? You think they would want to come?”

Would they? You’re not too sure you even want to invite anyone else.

“I’ll think about it,” You say. He seems satisfied with this answer as he bounces Kaia again.

When you’re both done with dinner Keith takes Kaia for a bath and puts her to bed. He’s giving you the night off. You take the time to put dishes away while listening to your favorite songs. You’re trying to ignore the dread filling your entire body.

Marriage?

You lean against the counter, pushing all of your weight against your palms, as you try to take deep breaths.

Marriage?

You try again to calm down when there’s a loud smack from Kaia’s bedroom followed by the sound of her crying. Your heart drops as you move to investigate. He hasn’t? He wouldn’t. The thing is you know her cries. You have every single one of them memorized. This one sounds different.

“Keith,” You say slowly. You’re afraid of what you’ll find in this room. You round the corner. Kaia is on the floor, seated on her bottom, with her hands against her face as she cries. She’s red with her eyes screwed up. He’s standing over her with a look of anger on his face.

“Fuck,” Keith shakes his head.

“What happened?” You ask. You move to pick Kaia up to console her and he stops you.

“No,” He says. “She kept trying to touch the outlet and I told her no. She wouldn’t listen so I slapped her hands.”

“Keith,” This time you say his name and it’s dripping with so much disappointment. You kneel to pick her up and this time Keith raises his hand to push against your chest.

“I said no. She needs to learn.” Keith frowns. “When I say no I mean it.”

“I know but she’s fourteen months old,” You look down at her. Her cries are louder as she realizes you’re not going to comfort her. “She’s going to test boundaries.”

“And like an idiot, you would have let her touch the outlet?” Keith looks at you with such disgust. “You have to be kidding me. You’re lucky I’m here or she would be terrible. I’m not raising a bad ass kid.”

“She’s not bad, Keith, she’s one year old.” You say firmly. You’re emphasizing her age. She shouldn’t have to learn through punishment like that. She’s only been on the Earth for fourteen months. He shouldn’t be hitting her. She won’t understand it. Chances are she’ll try it again. That doesn’t give him the right to violate her like this. You never discussed spanking with him. It’s not something you ever thought about doing. She’s so tiny and defenseless. She’s only curious and learning. Why would you hit her for that? “She doesn’t know. We can just put covers on the outlets.”

“What’s that going to solve?” He’s getting agitated. “You have to say no or she’s going to walk all over you. The only way she’s going to learn is a slight tap. It’s not like I hit her hard. She’ll be fine.”

You don’t care how much he justifies it. You don’t care if he thinks that she’s learned.

“Let me pick her up,” You beg him.

“Jesus, you’re so soft.” He walks out of the room, bumping his shoulder against you in the process. You ignore the slight pain to kneel down and take Kaia in your arms. “When she’s disrespecting you don’t call me to discipline her if you’re going to be so dramatic about it.”

You close your eyes at his words. You rub your hand soothingly along Kaia’s back as she cries into your neck. She lifts to show you her hand with a pout. More tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she tried to communicate what happened.

“Dada,” Kaia moans.

“I’m so sorry, Kai,” You take her hand to kiss it. You hold it against your lips as you rock the both of you. You take in a shaky breath.

“What happens when he hits her too?” Natasha’s voice resounds in your head. Was she right? Would he continue to hit her? Would he continue to hurt her? Would you keep allowing it?

Kaia lies her head against you as her cries quiet down. She’s depending on you to protect her and you can’t even do it.

***************************

There are days that go by and that night has been on your mind heavily. You’re lying in bed next to him as he sleeps. Everything in you is screaming for you to leave but you can’t. You can’t. What would change for you if you did? What did you have to offer the world?

**************************

The next incident happens a day later. Keith is coming home from a night with friends. He’s drunk and loud. He comes into the house singing some crazy show tune. He kicks off his shoes at the door and heads to the fridge with one purpose. Another beer. He pops it open with ease before taking a sip. He drinks a good quarter of it. His gaze is focused on a picture hanging on the wall in front of him. It’s one of you and Kaia. She’s only a few months old in that one. It’s a sweet picture as you smile down at her sleeping face. He remembers that day because he was there.

He can’t pinpoint a time where everything changed for him. Suddenly, he realizes he misses you. He invited you out but you declined. Mingling with his friends was the last thing you wanted to do. He turns off the kitchen light to head for your bedroom. He doesn’t stop to check Kaia’s. He knows that she’s sleeping.

He crawls over the covers in his clothes to lie on top of you. You stir under his touch as he presses kisses to your face and forehead. You groan hoping he’ll stop to let you sleep.

“Wake up,” He says. He lifts just slightly so you can lie on your back. He rests between your legs with his chin on your chest. Your hands find his hair in the darkness to comb through it.

“Keith, what time is it?” You mumble. It has to be pretty late.

“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “I missed you.” You peek your eyes open to look at him. He looks good like this. You can tell he’s drunk but you don’t mention it. He leans up to press a kiss against your lips. He kisses you soundlessly, long, hard, and a bit sloppy. He pushes the blanket from your legs. His hands find the hem of your shirt to push it to rest just over your breast. He traces his left hand over your abdomen before making a path to cup your right breast. Only his touch is too firm and certainly too rough as he squeezes. You hiss into his mouth pulling away just slightly. “Sorry,” He apologizes as he tries again. His touch is gentler this time. He runs his lips along your jaw licking at your neck before giving it a soft bite. You moan against him before stopping in your tracks. He smells different. Feminine. It’s a perfume that doesn’t agree with your stomach.

“Keith,” You question though he doesn’t pause. His kisses are hurried and sloppier by the minute. His hands find the waistband of your panties and he tries to tug at them before you stop him. “Keith,”

“What?”He huffs in annoyance. He pulls back to look into your eyes.

“Did you sleep with her?” Your voice is small. You’re afraid to even ask the question. You almost feel stupid. Almost. The way he bites his lip confirms everything you need to know. You don’t know who she is but it’s apparent he’s been seeing her for a while. Your heart sinks. Tears prick your eyes. He needs to move now. He didn’t even have the decency to shower to rid himself of her smell before falling into bed with you.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” He says. You push at his chest to urge him to move. He sits back on his legs.

“I can’t believe you.” You swing your legs out of the bed to stand. You immediately head for the closet. In your blind rage you don’t notice him standing up. You can’t take any of it anymore. “I can’t do this.” You whisper to yourself. You find a duffel bag tossing whatever clothes you can find into them. He watches you with an eerie look in his eyes.

“You’re not serious,” He mutters. “You can’t be mad that I fucked her. She doesn’t mean anything. You’re the one i’m marrying.”

“How does that make it better?” You question. You toss the bag onto the bed to dig through your drawers. You find a pair of pants that fit just right. You drag them up your legs. He watches you. “You have put me through so much. So much Keith. You hit me. You kept me from my friends. You hit Kaia. Then you go and cheat after months of you accusing me of cheating. I can’t take it.” You zip the bag not really caring if anything matches before you throw it over your shoulders. You try to calm yourself enough to enter Kaia’s room. She’s still sleeping. You don’t really know where you’re going. You don’t care. All you know is that you can’t be here any more. You don’t bother with the lights of her bedroom. You reach into her crib, cradling her into your arms, hoping not to wake her. You struggle a bit carrying her but you’re successful. You reach for a blanket to keep her warm.

You need to leave.

Keith catches a glimpse of you from the bedroom. He follows you to the front door. You don’t even manage to grab the handle before he’s taking a fistful of your hair. You groan in pain, trying to keep the sound in check, so not to jostle Kaia.

“Where do you think you’re taking my daughter?” He whispers harshly into your ear. His grip tightens as he pulls your neck back further.

“Keith, let me leave.” You beg him.

“Put her down,” He tugs just enough that you follow him to the living room. He instructs you to put her down gently. Kaia moans but settles into the fabric of the couch. He praises you for listening before tugging you over to the kitchen. He rips the bag from your arms all the while maintaining his hold on your head. “You want to leave, go. You’re not taking her with you.”

His words sound good. They do. They also sound incredibly stupid. No way were you going to leave Kaia with him.

“Keith, I’m not leaving her with you,” You whimper. “Let us go. Just let us go.”

“You’re painting me as such a damn mad man it’s fascinating.” Keith lets you go to slap his hands against the counter. “I give you everything. Everything! Why can’t you just be fucking grateful? I’m marrying you. I’m giving you kids. I give you money.”

“What am I being grateful for?” You exclaim. “You hit me.You hit me. Keith there’s nothing more for us in this relationship but pain and hurt and anger. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t marry you, Keith. I can’t bring anymore babies into this situation.” This was the wrong thing to say. He closes the distance between the two of you. You don’t have time to react before he is pushing you against the wall with everything in him. You try to hide the groans of pain as he slaps against your face. You can feel the moment your lip splits. You look at him in defiance. He won’t break you. Not this time.

He moves to smack you again when a cry from the couch stops you both.

“Mama,” Kaia calls out. She’s probably so confused right now. The noises. The darkness. “Mama.”

“Keith, she’s going to come looking for me.” You whisper brokenly. She’s big enough to climb off of the couch. He lowers his hand. He drops them against his side. Nothing else is said as you both listen to Kaia’s crying from a few feet away. Finally, he steps back to allow you to go and grab her. You rush to her side, your heart breaking at the look in her eyes, as she raises her arms for you to pick her up. You don’t quite trust yourself to hold her so you sit on the couch next to her. She crawls into your lap to burrow herself into your arms. You don’t have it in you to comfort her. Not when you can’t even comfort yourself.

Minutes pass and her breathing evens out. She’s asleep again. You feel so dumb. Why did you push him tonight? Why did you have to ask him about it? Why couldn’t suspicions just be suspicions? You lift her from your lap to place her against the cushions once again.

You have to check. You need to check.

You tiptoe down the hallway and into the bedroom. You peek your head around the corner to see what he’s doing. Sure enough he’s asleep still in his clothes. His soft snores signal that he’s dead to the world. It’s now or never.

You walk back to the kitchen where you reach under the sink. You finger along the pipes to grab at the tape around it. You finally touch a sleek metal, ripping it from the pipe, and tapping it. You slip it into your pocket. Next you grab the bag and walk over to the couch. You shush Kaia as she whimpers. You grab the blanket to throw over her before taking measured steps towards the front door. You can’t bother with a jacket. It’s now or never. Your hands tremble as you reach for the lock. The cool metal is scary. So scary. You turn the lock with trepidation. He’s not going to wake up. Hopefully he doesnt. You reach down to turn the knob, backing away from the door, and opening it. Once it’s open you take care to close it softly. Your heart is beating so hard as you walk towards the elevators. You tap the button with ease, rocking Kaia in your arms, as you wait for it to reach your floor.

You don’t know how things are going to go. You really don’t care. All you know is that you have to get out. You let out a breath when you’re in the elevator. You lean heavily against it as you finally allow yourself to breathe. You have to get out of here. You have to get far away from here. You ignore the night security when he greets you. You walk out of the building and down the street. You don’t know how far the walk is. You don’t have a particular place in mind. A half hour has gone by and you finally stop. The tears watering your eyes leave you blind as you find an empty bench to sit on. The city is quiet tonight. No one is out here. The traffic lights blink red in front of you as you manuever Kaia in your arms to take the phone out of your pocket.

You power it on opening it to the blank screen. There’s one number programmed into it that you know of. You press the first contact bringing it to your ear for it to ring. You wait, shaking your leg nervously, as you pray for her to pick up.

Finally, she answers with a groggy “Hello.”

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You simply breathe into the microphone as you try not to break down. You can hear the rustling of sheets. She must be sitting up.

“Y/n?” She asks and you hold back a sob. It feels so good to hear her voice.

“Y-yeah,” You say into the phone. You blink back tears again. “Nat,” You sniffle.

“Where are you?” She asks.

“I don’t.I don’t really know. I think I’m on Albany,” You stutter looking for the street signs. When you find one you repeat the intersection to her.

“I’m coming to get you. Don’t move.” She says.

“Okay,” You look down to Kaia. “Please don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.” Natasha promises. You can hear more shuffling and you don’t know how fast she moves but she’s already down in the parking garage by the sound of the car unlocking. “How’s Kaia?”

“She’s good,” You look down at her sleeping peacefuly in your arms. “S-s-she’s sleeping.” Your voice breaks.

“You’re doing good then, dorogaya.” Natasha starts the engine of the car. You can’t help the flutter in your chest at Natasha’s nickname. “I’m coming. Just stay on the phone.”

You nod to yourself. You’re exhausted and don’t have much else to say. You listen to the sounds of her driving. She uses her turn signals. She curses at a driver that almost cuts her off. She apologizes when she remembers she’s not alone.

“You curse in Russian,” You laugh. You don’t know why you find the cliche so funny. Natasha snorts.

“Yes, I do.” Natasha smiles over the phone. You don’t realize how much time has passed before she’s parked in front of you on the street. She presses the hazard buttons, before exiting the car. She walks over to you silently. She hangs up the phone in her hand before tucking it into her pocket. “Thank you for calling me.” She tells you. She glances down to Kaia and then back to you. “I don’t have a car seat for her.”

“It’s okay, I’ll hold her.” You hike her up further in your arms. Natasha nods. She grabs your bag, popping the trunk to throw it in the back, as you slide into the back seat. You know it’s not necessarily safe but there’s nothing else you can do. Natasha gets into the driver’s side. She puts her seat belt on before putting the car in drive.

You look out of the window at the empty streets. It kind of looks how you feel right now.

“I’m taking you to one of my safehouses,” Natasha says. “The tower is secure but I don’t think you want to deal with Tony and his cameras right now.” You nod wordlessly. Natasha peeks at you from the front seat. Your head lolls to the back of the seat as you close your eyes. For the first time that night you close your eyes feeling peaceful. Natasha is tapping at your shoulder when your eyes pop open.

“Dorogaya, we’re here.” She already has the duffel bag in hands. She helps you out of the car. You both walk through the well lit parking garage. This place is fancy. You wonder for a moment how Natasha has been able to keep this a secret. She walks with you to an elevator and presses the button. Neither of you say anything as she leads you to the fifth floor. She unlocks the door with ease, letting you walk inside first, before closing the door behind you. She flicks the lights on and sets the keys on the counter. You practically jump out of your skin as a. black figure jumps out in front of you.

“Sorry,” Natasha shoos the black cat away. “This is Liho and he knows he knows he’s not supposed to be on the counters.” Natasha shakes her head. She opens one of the cabinets to grab a can of cat food. She cracks it open allowing you to take everything in while she does. Liho meows and Natasha shakes her head. “You’re so impatient.” She dumps the food into a clean bowl and refills his water bowl.

“You can lie her down on the bed,” Natasha points to the bedroom. “I’ll be in, in a second to help with that lip.” Right. You forgot about that.

You amble down the hallway in search of the bedroom. You know she’s giving you a chance to calm down. She’s not crowding you or coddling you. You’re really thankful for that. Her bedroom is nice. It smells clean. If a bit stuffy. Maybe she hasn’t slept here in a while.

You lie Kaia down on the bed. She takes a sharp inhale of breath before turning onto her side. You brush her curls from her face, making sure she’s doesn’t wake up. You sit on the bed next to her, fingers in your lap, as you wait for Natasha. Her footsteps are light but they’re there. She shuffles around the room and goes into the ensuite to grab cleaning supplies.

“Come here,” She beckons you into the bathroom. She watches you climb onto the counter with a wince. Your back is a bit sore. She doesn’t say anything that you expect her to. “Can I touch you?” She asks. You nod. You hate the way you flinch even though she slowly raises her hands. She inspects your face and your lips before grabbing a wash cloth. She wets it with cold water before pressing it against your lip. You whimper in pain as your hand flies up to hold onto her wrist. “It’s okay, dorogaya.” She says softly. She makes quick work of cleaning the cut before she drops her hands.

“Why do you call me that?” You tilt your head. She looks into your eyes with such compassion and such care. You haven’t seen this in a long time.

“It’s a nickname,” Natasha shrugs.

“It means dear, darling, honey. Something of that nature right?” You noted and she raises a brow. “Why do you call me that specifically.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I won’t say it,” Natasha backs away but you reach out to grab her wrist. She’s a bit surprised you can tell. You gently tug her to you. You don’t know why you do it but you place her hands on your waist. Her eyes flicker down before back up to you.

“I like it,” You admit. “It makes me feel safe.” It makes you feel loved but you’re not so sure you should be saying it. You look down to Natasha’s lips and then back to her. You lean in to press your lips to hers. It’s like your entire world falls apart and then is built back together. For a brief moment she kisses you back. You ignore the pain you feel as you think about how good it feels. How safe it feels. This is what you’ve been missing for so long. Natasha seems to find her senses first as you move to deepen the kiss.

“I can’t let you do that,” She mutters. “I can’t let you pay me with sex. You don’t have to repay me at all.” You deflate attempting to look away in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized that’s what you were doing. She presses a manicured finger under your chin to get you to look at her. “I want to kiss you. I do. Dorogaya, you’re in a vulnerable state. I don’t want that to be the reason you do something you may regret.” Before you can protest she shakes her head. “Give yourself time.” You nod. “I’ll always be here.” She promises. You believe her.

She steps back too look at the rest of your body. “Is there anywhere that you feel a lot of pain?”

“Just my heart,” You shake your head. “I can’t believe I let it go on for so long.”

“You're here now,” Natasha tucks away the cleaning supplies and returns her gaze to you. “I have pajamas for you if you need. I can watch Kaia while you shower.”

“Okay,” You look over to the shower in question. You wait for her to leave. You avoid looking into the mirror as you strip. You turn on the water, waiting for it to get hot, before stepping directly under it. When the water finally hits your back you let out a sob. You’ve been holding it in for so long. You’re safe. You don’t have to go back. Never again.

When you get out of the shower, you find Natasha sitting at the edge of the bed watching Kaia. Just like she said. You tuck your dirty clothes in her nearby hamper before climbing onto the bed to sit beside the little girl. You trace your fingers on her face. She twitches but never wakes up.

“You were right,” You don’t dare to look at her. You know she’s listening. “He hit her.” Natasha doesn’t hide her gasp. “He said she needed to learn after she tried touching an outlet. I just… I couldn’t believe it. Then I could. I felt horrible. I felt like a bad mother.”

“You’re not a bad mother,” Natasha quickly shuts that down. “You got yourself out. You left when you knew you needed to.”

“Why doesn’t it feel that way?” You furrow your brows. “ He asked me to marry him. He wants to expand our family. Everything I’ve ever wanted and I just. It came in this way.I couldn’t stop thinking about how I can’t raise another baby with him. I can’t be stuck with that forever.” You lower your hands to pick at the fabric of her blanket. You won’t say it. You can’t say it. Then that would make it real.

There’s a pause as Natasha analyzes your words.

“Y/n?” She questions. You raise your eyes. “How far along are you?” Her question almost knocks the wind out of you. If you weren’t already sitting it would have made you pass out.

“6 weeks,” You concede. “He doesn’t know.” You force yourself to look back down at the covers. You don’t want to see the pity in her face.

“You’re not going back to him?” She questions. “You can stay for as long as you need. I-I’m not forcing you to stay y/n. He won’t find you. Just stay.”

“I don’t want to go back,” You say. “I don’t want to.” She reaches across the bed to hold on to your hand.

For the past few years, you’ve felt alone. Now you have her.

----> next part