#and I’m teaming up with another person in my party to do a sort of parasite / venom kind of thing

[blackstar-gazer]

wdym I have to make the fanfiction and fanart for my own characters

[samkerrworshipper]

the lawn is dead. pt.2

hi! i wrote a part 2! i’m on a unofficial hiatus but had some inspiration the last few days and had to finish this. hope it provides a little bit more comfort then the last chapter .. sorry xo

warnings: suicidal themes, self harm themes, themes of depression, anxiety, dark thoughts. viewer discretion advised.

You can describe the carpet of this office better then most people can describe themselves.

It’s a rug, for the most part, except for the where it’s clear a person has chosen laziness in favour of lifting up the heavier furniture to place the rug down underneath it. Where the rug doesn’t cover, there is bleak grey carpet that feels more boring then the time you spend in this room.

Where the carpet lacks in literally everything, the rug makes up for it blindingly.

It’s a messy mixture of far too many colours, pinks, purples, blues, greens and neutrals. It doesn’t make any sense in your mind, why somebody would chose for the focal point of their room to be a rug that doesn’t match with any of the furniture. It’s another sign that the furniture came before the rug, all of the furniture is dark mahogany, beautiful pieces that look as if they’ve come from and English period piece, whereas the rug looks so modern it’s almost painful.

The rest of the furniture has been picked with similar taste.

The painting on the wall looks like what a child would vomit after going to a birthday party. Every time you’ve come here you’ve had a new analogy, but this week that is the one, it looks like stomach contents and you can’t get past it, to the point it’s made you physically nauseated.

From the painting moves onto the bookshelf, where there is a odd mix of medical textbooks, classics and selfawareness books, all stacked in such disarray that you have to keep your eyes away because it makes you uncomfortable.

Beyond the furniture is your psychologist, with her stupid fucking note pad, stupid glasses perched on the very tip of her nose and stupidly calm face that never really changed.

She was supposed to be a specialist, the best of the best, supposed to be the greatest and getting to the bottom of the most famous athletes problems and yet you found pride in alluding her.

One hour, every four days was what you were down to now, a couple of weeks ago it had been every other day and that had been fucking torture.

Sometimes all you wanted to do was rip her eyeballs out, or her brains, or something else. You swore she made your ears bleed and your will to live deteriorate with every second and it was already pretty low.

“You can’t avoid my question forever.”

It was also that annoying tone that sent you, the sort of tone that meant she knew that technically for the whole of the hour she could ask you whatever she pleased and you were technically supposed to answer her. Defiance on your end just ended up in you being suspended from something else that made your life just a tiny bit more liveable.

“No, I haven’t talked to Mapi yet.”

You’ve been avoiding it, there have bits and pieces of homework from your therapist, but this one is by far the hardest.

“How about Alexia, how does she feel about that.”

You don’t want to tell her that you and Alexia are in shambles as it is, add on the pressure of her best friend being psychologically destroyed because of you and just talking about any of it at all and it’s like dynamite.

“Supportive.”

Your therapist nods, but in the way that you know she doesn’t quite believe you.

“Have you started to reintegrate with the team? I know last time we talked you mentioned that before the incident you’d been feeling quite isolated because of your ankle injury. It’s important that you start to normalise your life again before you start to self isolate.”

You don’t call it self-isolation, you like to call it self protection. You protect yourself by pushing against the grain, by keeping to yourself. It’s a lot easier that way.

“I’ve been busy.”

It’s a lie and a blatant one, your days are filled with complete nothingness. You can’t play football, not until she clears you, and you know that it’s not going to happen anytime soon based on the trend of your current sessions. There has been the same amount of progress as there was two weeks ago when you started with her. You shut down at every attempt she makes to try and open you up, you talk when you have to. It’ll probably get you sent back to a ward. You don’t remember much from your transition from the hospital to home, but you do remember signing something that referred to you making significant process or else you would be sent back.

Progress for your therapist is getting more then two word responses from you. You’re aware she’s in kahoots with Alexia, that Alexia is probably providing her more information then you are.

“You’re giving me the look that means that you’re writing something down along the lines of ‘unncooperative’.”

She is also in kahoots with the staff at Barcelona, another thing you signed was that she would work in conjunction with the clubs doctors to get you back to where you were, or somewhere in the vicinity.

They know every time you have a bad session, you’re guaranteed a consolation call from one of the coaches or even sometimes a teammate check-in telling you how brave you are and how strong you are for doing this.

You don’t agree, you nearly took the cowards way out and you’re proud of it. You wish it had fucking worked, every single second, of every single day, you wish you’d succeeded, wished that this hadn’t all ended up how it did.

“That’s not what I wrote, I wrote a observation. Uncooperative would be you refusing to speak to me like you did for our first two sessions, even if you lie it’s still trying.”

You don’t want to be curious of her, you’ve tried to give her as little attention as possible.

You’ve adapted the act that you call, therapised you.

You do your best job of smiling here and there, or at least when you know that you’re supposed to. Therapised you extends to a few people, Alexia, coaches, physios, people on the street.

You believe you’ve become a seasoned liar.

The funniest part is that sometimes you start to believe your act, you start to believe that all the ash and embers in your chest is really alight with flames, like you’re truly alive.

But then, you would pause, sit down, lie down, dissasociate and you would be reminded that that wasn’t your body. Your body wasn’t a place of life and prosper, it was as dead as anywhere else.

“What was the observation?”

You try not to be curious over her, or curious in general, you keep everything to yourself.

“You’ve told me time and time again that you attempted because you believed that not a single person would care if you were gone. Yet you wrote a letter, you knew that somebody would care, somebody would miss you. Guilt is what kept you from doing it earlier and guilt was what kept you from vanishing without a trace. Your conscience was clean in your own words, but that’s not true, your conscience was anything but clean. So what pushed you over?”

You hate that therapists have a way of worming out weird bits of information that they can use against you to worm out more bits of information, like they know your brain inside to out.

“My conscience was clean.”

Your therapist pulls her glasses up from her nose and scribbles on her pad again.

“Why’d you write a note then, specifically why did you write a note to your ex girlfriend?”

There are so many things you could say to that, but you can’t quite find the words.

“Let me rephrase to make it easier. When you were in the hospital, and Alexia reacted so viscerally, you weren’t surprised. You expected her to feel something about what happened, you didn’t seem surprised at all by her words or actions. You knew that she was going to be hurt by what you did. So, how was your conscience truly clean?”

Thinking about Alexia in the hospital makes you feel as nauseous as the furniture does.

Your still mad at her, still mad at yourself for never changing her as your medical contact and medical proxy. It had all been a clusterfuck.

“I didn’t know Alexia was going to be there, I though that she’d washed her hands of me. I left her a note because I thought there had been things left unsaid between us and I didn’t want to leave that way.”

Your therapist nods, she doesn’t scribble this time and that makes the itchy feeling all over you die down a little bit.

“Alright, let’s move on. Your ankle injury, how’s that going?”

You look to the window, it’s a horrible day outside, just your luck when you’d chosen to walk to your therapists office on what was supposed to be a 20 degree day with sunny skies. It was the epitome of your life, high expectations, low realities.

“Well three weeks between a hospital and psychiatric facility are probably the best thing anybody can do for a injury.”

You let out a self-deprecating chuckle and your therapist does nothing but scribble.

“So you’ve been doing your rehab as advised then?”

Rehab, both kinds, is mind-bogglingly boring. You go to your therapist and she tells you all the ways you have to work to rehab your brain, she gives you medication after medication and exercise after exercise. The same happens every time you see your physio, test after test, exercise after exercise.

Your stuck in the same cycle of boredom, it makes you wonder how people ever expect you to get better when all you are doing is living in a constant state of suffering.

“The physios are happy with me, say that if I continue on the track that I am I should be back on the pitch in a few weeks, with psychological clearance.”

At the current therapeutic rate your going at, you don’t think you’ll see a psychological clearance until your 50th birthday, if you’re lucky.

“How does it feel coming back from that injury, especially considering how the decline in your physical health simulatenously resulted in the decrease in your mental health?”

You keep silent, because you know that if you talk then it’s doing to be something emotional. When you don’t know how to answer questions without exposing yourself you opt to keep quiet, it’s a obvious tell that you feel uncomfortable with the question. But giving away a tell is a whole lot better then starting an emotional downpour.

“Y/n?”

You look at your shoes. You only were allowed to start wearing one on your bad foot a week ago, and you’d forgotten how hard it was to coordinate shoes with your clothes. This morning you’d thought that they matched with your pants but now they look much darker then they truly are against the grey carpet. The mix of your navy adidas that you might have stolen from Mapi’s wardrobe a couple of months ago when she was complaining about the amount of shoes she’d been sent with your grey wide leg pants was a interesting choice but therapy wasn’t a fashion parade. The shoes don’t quite fit your feet, that’sc how you remembered they weren’t yours. When you’d taken them, it had been during some kind of team bonding night at Mapi and Ingrid’s apartment. Life had been so good, Alexia and you had been so good and for once you’d kind of felt like you were beginning to fit in.You’d never felt that way before that era of your life.

But like most things, it was now a far distant memory.

“The injury wasn’t what made me depressed.”

It’s a half truth, you suppose. Yes, the injury definitely contributed to the factors that trigger your depression, but it wasn’t a sole cause.

“I disagree.”

More scribbling on her note pad, in your opinion it must be some psychological form of torture. You’ll google it when you get home, check to make sure that this isn’t a form of manipulation to somehow convince you to say the things that she wants you to.

“If you disagree then tell me why you think that.”

It’s daring of you to say, there is nearly a 99.99 percent chance that whatever she says you are going to deny vehemently. Even if she hits it right on the nail.

“I think that you don’t give yourself enough grace for the challenges that you’ve gone through. You came to Barcelona because you were running from things, from your past. You’ve never stopped running, truly. Everytime somebody gets close enough to begin to try and worm their feet into your shoes to try and relive some of it with you, you shut them down and stop it. For most people, shoes are a means of getting to where they want, for you, you keep running because if you stop you feel like you’ll suffocate, like your feet will be wrapped up in barb wire and you’ll be stuck. For whatever reason, you don’t think anybody will ever be able to empathise with that. You think that if you ever let anybody in for long enough that they learn what you’ve been running from that they’ll try and stop you, that you’ll be faced with everything that you’ve ever struggled with. So, you keep running, and running, you’ve always been in a state of escape. With your relationship, you finally stopped running, you slowed to a jog. Then, you got injured. All of a sudden you felt like you were stuck and instead of letting yourself finally come to a stop and accepting help and complete love for once in your life, and being vulnerable. You chose to start running again, running from your friends, running from your team, running from every single good thing that you’d gotten in your life until you were so consumed with all the running that you just wanted it all to stop. But you didn’t know how to stop parts of your life without stopping other parts, so you chose to stop it all.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds. You’ve never had the feeling that you’ve been experiencing your whole life summed up, you don’t know how to feel about it.

You look at your psychologist, and somehow she looks back at you in a way that you somehow feel like she understands, you’ve never really felt that way about her.

It’s always felt like she’s judging you, like it’s her job to judge every single thing you say. Or at least that’s the way you’ve always seen it. It’s her job to make sure you don’t fall of the rails again, to make decisions about what you can and can’t do. It’s never been a possibility for you that maybe she’s here for a little bit more then just the business side of it all.

“Is that it? Did you come to a point where it felt like you had no other option but to just make it all stop?”

You bite your lip so hard you think it might just bleed, it’s a mission to try and stop the tears that have begun to cling to the back of your eyes at bay. You’ve never cried during a therapy session, and there is no reason why today should be different. The amount of people you’ve cried in front of is limited to a very, very short list of people and you don’t intend for your psychologist to be added.

“It would be okay if that was it. It’s okay to admit that for you at that time it felt like there was no other option but to make it all stop.”

You feel muzzled, like you can’t speak without admitting to something that you don’t want to.

“I thought it would make it all better.”

Your therapist puts down her notepad, and you feel a whole load of anxiety rush out of you.

“You thought it would make what better?”

You keep your tooth pinned to your lip, if it draws blood, it draws blood. The pain helps to take your focus off of the word vomit you can feel coming up.

“Everyone else’s lives.”

Your response is croaky, and when your therapist points to the glass of water you don’t shake your head like normal, you find yourself reaching for it and taking a few tentative sips.

“What about your life, what about making your own life better?”

You take a few more sips, because it stalls the conversation for long enough that you can think up an answer that doesn’t make it sound like you are completely insane.

“I was never really thinking about it like that.”

You look at her, eye to eye again, and there is this weird understanding between the two of you. You can feel it, whether or not it’s real, for the first time you feel like you aren’t crazy for thinking the way that you do. It’s a weird kind of safety that you’ve never had.

“For a minute, I want you to close your eyes and think about exactly what you want, whether it’s the future, it’s right now. Not football, not other people, nobody else. Just you.”

You humour her, and close your eyes.

For a few seconds, you can’t think of much. You’ve never been a future thinker, not beyond emergency plans and second options.

You think about death for a few seconds, a couple of weeks ago it was all you could think of. Permanent, irreversible disappearance. Even then though, it wasn’t what you were actually yearning for, not truly, it was just an easy solution to complex problems, problems that still haven’t been solved.

You think long and hard, and eventually you find a pleasantness.

You want to resolve things with Alexia, you know that for sure. It’s been impossible trying to navigate your relationship in your new reality. You want to get to a place where it’s less impossible. You want happiness with her, pure happiness. You also want some kind of return to football, you don’t know how. You’ve never really played football because it’s what you love, you’ve never loved your sport, it’s more been about having something that could take you places when inevitable wherever you had been was no longer an option because you’d somehow fucked it up.

You want a better relationship with yourself, you want to understand why you think the way you do and why you can’t think the same way and be the same way as everyone. You want to get past the fear you have that you will never be the same.

When you have nothing else to think about, you open your eyes, to your psychologist smiling at you.

“That’s our hour, I’m really happy to leave this here and circle back to some of it in a couple of days. The progress you’re making is definitely getting bigger and I’m happy to sign off on you getting some hours in the gym if your physios are happy with it. I’ll call the team tonight and we can work out a plan that works best.”

You’re in slight disbelief as she speaks.

“You’re sure?”

You stay seated for the sake of making sure that you haven’t somehow dreamt up what she’s just said.

“If you try and make some progress with your homework. I want you to try and talk to Mapi, a text message, coffee, something. I want you to talk to Alexia beyond her being a caregiver for you and I want you to make progress with your teammates, don’t avoid the gym if you know they are going to be there, don’t avoid team events, dip a toe in the water with them and I can guarantee you will have a very different outcome then what you think.”

Contingencies. One thing you’ve learnt about therapy is that there are always contingencies, it’s always a give and take, never one or the other.

You nod your head anyways, somehow, with her weird manipulation games you’ve managed to agree to something that the version of you from and hour ago never would have.

“I’ll try.”

Your therapist smiles and stands up, for whatever reason there is always a part of you that loves the end of your sessions but also never wants to leave.

Whether it seems like it or not, you actually do want to get better, you just don’t know what better looks like for you and that’s scary. You’ve never met the version of yourself that is ‘better’ or ‘normal’. You can’t say that you want to be your old self because there hasn’t ever been a version of yourself that feels better. You’ve always been in the slums, always been dragging yourself through the thickest mud to try and make it to the end of a day or month or year. You don’t actually want to survive like that, you want to live your life properly, or whatever non-sluggish life looks like for you.

Your still desperately trying to work that out.

Alexia is waiting in the carpark as usual, it’s always the same carpark, always the same consolation hot chocolate in her hands afterwards.

Once you’ve sat down in her passenger seat, put on your seatbelt and the takeaway cup is settled in your hands she broaches the topic of your session.

“How was it?”

There is always an awkwardness around your sessions, Alexia picks your up from every one, on the odd occasion she’ll join in if your therapist thinks it would be good. Otherwise, she spends the time sitting in her car and picking up hot drinks.

It’s infinitely awkward between the two of you, but Alexia in your opinion is mostly to blame for that.

She’d been the first person to put her hand up to be your carer, your glorified babysitter.

You know it’s a guilt thing, she feels guilty that part of your pain could have been because of her, even though you’ve insisted time and time again that it wasn’t.

“Fine.”

Therapy is a tough topic for you, mostly because you’ve never wanted to be there in the first place. You’d been tricked into going from the beginning, Alexia insisting that she was taking you to a appointment to check up on your scars when really it had been to your psychologists office. You’d yelled and screamed and insisted that she take you home, but at the end of the day if you ever wanted to play football again it was obvious you were going to have to suck it up.

You hadn’t talked to Alexia for days after that, which is funny because that was less then three weeks ago and now you’re here.

“Fine?”

You nod your head, it’s hard to find words after a normal session, but after this one it’s ever harder.

“I made some progress.”

Alexia nods, you know there are probably a hundred questions going through her head right now, but she won’t ask them. She’s too scared that if she asks them, she’ll get an answer that will terrify her. One that will restart all of the problems, even if that isn’t really how it works. Alexia doesn’t understand mental health, that’s become frighteningly obvious over the past few weeks. She doesn’t understand your struggles because she’s never experienced them. She’s never had self hatred or depression or overwhelming anxiety. It’s what makes you feel so alienated and so out of place amongst your peers. You feel like a shark amongst a sea of dolphins, like you look the same but when it comes down to it you are completely different.

“That’s good, no?”

You nod your head, disguising the grimace on your face by the mouth of the lid on your hot chocolate.

“She says I can start doing some hours in the gym.”

Alexia smiles, big and wide, like it’s her whose been given the good news.

“That’s good bebita, you’ll be on the pitch in no time.”

The pitch. It’s all Alexia cares about.

When you can be back, how she can get you to the point you can be back. Because when Alexia is injured, it’s all she cares about. What she can do to get herself back on the pitch, how she can make the rehab process faster, she thinks of every single logistic and possibility.

You want to make it back to the pitch, or you think you do. But it’s not your priority. It’s become abundantly clear that your main priority has to be yourself, figuring yourself out.

“Mhm.”

You focus your energy on counting how many bike riders pass Alexia’s car as she navigates through peak city traffic. You get to 38 before she interrupts your intense search for every person on two wheels.

“Vicky’s supposed to be coming over later, I promised I’d help her with a school project. I can go to her house instead if you’d prefer?”

Every time Alexia’s broached the topic of teammates you’ve immediately refused any contact, and your immediate reaction is to say no. but you think about what your therapist said.

“I might text Mapi and see if she wants to talk to me.”

You hear the sound of Alexia’s shock in the form of a choken sort of cough, she tries to cover it up by slapping her hand against the wheel of her car, but it doesn’t do much.

“I think that would be a really good idea, bebita, I think she would be really happy to see you.”

You don’t look at Alexia, you don’t want to see the look of perplexion or shock or whatever emotion she’s going through. You haven’t seen Mapi since the hospital, and as little as you remember from then, you remember Mapi very clearly.

She had been just as out of it as you’d been, refusing to leave your bedside but Ingrid having to do everything for her to keep her alive. Every time she visited you, she looked like she’d seen a ghost, or something worse. You weren’t sure what was worse, seeing somebody dead or seeing somebody who was hanging on the cliff of life and death and having to save their life, knowing that if action hadn’t of been taken they would be dead.

Definitely the latter.

“I’ll text her, see if she can come and pick you up before Vicky comes over?”

You nod your head, allowing yourself to focus back on counting your tally, except moving over to motorcycles this time.

You shower with the bathroom door halfway open. There are no sharps anywhere in your apartment, knives, razors, scissors, nail clippers, vegetable peelers, glasses, anything that could cause any kind of bodily harm. For now, you aren’t allowed to be left alone for longer then an hour. You sleep with your bedroom door open and Alexia sleeping in the guest room next door. You eat a set meal plan, you do two hours of rehab every single day, you live on a schedule that is so carefully planned that you have no time to yourself and yet every single moment feels lonely.

It’s a process, you’ve been told. It’s crucial to your recovery that there are measurements in place to assure your ‘success’.

Alexia knocks on your door every five minutes whilst you shower, you yell back every time.

It had become a rule after the first time you’d showered with the door open you’d made a joke about using the shower curtain to harm yourself, because what did they really expect you to be doing?

It hadn’t gone well, Alexia going silent for a few days and a very heated conversation with your psychologist about the inappropriateness of making jokes about suicide.

It was your trauma, it was your fucking story, and everyone was acting like it was their most sensitive issue.

Bathrooms are a bit of a touchy subject, you don’t shower in your ensuite bathroom anymore, you can’t. The room has permanently been blocked off, completely forgotten about.

The first thing you want to do once you’ve ‘recovered’ is leave this apartment, there are to many bad memories, it feels like you’ll never be able to recover if your stuck in the same place that you were in when it all went bad.

It’s a problem for when you can deal with the stress of packing up your whole life and moving it to somewhere.

When you shut the water off and step out of the warm stream you let yourself breathe, showers are the only real alone time you get. Everywhere else you are supervised, watched like a hawk to make sure that you don’t try anything else that could jeopardise your return to football. The reality is that Barca can’t afford to have you sit on the sideline for a whole season, they need you back, they can’t risk another slip up.

Alexia at least gives you the privacy of getting dressed in your own wardrobe, all of your wired bras have been removed, but for the most part it’s all normal.

You get dressed in another sweat suit, it’s become your new uniform over the last few weeks, no draw strings of course.

Your hair gets swept into a messy bun, it’s too much effort to deal with the brushing and braiding and tying that you would have normally gone through with a couple of weeks ago. You aren’t allowed to wear jewellery anymore so your accessories consist of pretty much nothing. You’re bare from the bones to your clothes, your soul feels as bare as the rest of your body.

You’re allowed to wear laced shoes, but you often opt not to, slip on birkenstocks or uggs are just easier. The Barcelona January chill has been getting to you recently, so you upt for your ugg boots.

Your outfit choice is the most choice you get in your day, so you try and put as little thinking into it as possible, it’s easier for you to just succumb to the reality that everything in your life is controlled by other people.

By the time you’ve finished, you’re towing very close to the time Mapi had told Alexia she’d come and meet you. You collect the things that you might need from your vanity and shove them in your pocket, before making your way out to your living room.

It’s unofficially become Alexia’s office, her laptop and books cover your dining table now. She lives out of your apartment, leaves only for training and barcelona commitments, so it’s fair to say that she’s made herself at home.

When you were living together before, it had bothered you more, having her things everywhere. Alexia is a organiser, of everything and everybody but herself. You’d spend hours telling her to pick up her shoes from random spots around the apartment floor or getting her to pick up random clothing items laying on top of pieces of furniture. This mess is different, it reflects how the situation is different. There is nothing comfortable about your predicament, it’s not the same kind of comfortable coexistence you had when you were dating Alexia.

There is a boundary between the two of you now and it makes it all so much more confusing.

Alexia isn’t just your friend or your teammate, she’s you caregiver, the person who holds you accountable, unofficially the person who is supposed to keep you from doing anything to yourself. It adds a whole layer of stress to the situation, you can’t relax around her the same way you used to.

Your relationship is never going to be the same, but parts of you wished that Alexia hadn’t taken over the burden of caring for you, because maybe the two of you could work on rebuilding yourselves as a couple instead of Alexia trying to rebuild you as a person, as if you are a broken lego set that needed to be put back together.

She spends most of her time in your living room, doesn’t push the boundary of your bedroom unless it’s needed.

She’s sat at the kitchen table, preparing herself to help with whatever project it is that Vicky needs help with.

“Shouldn’t Vicky have maybe asked one of the younger girls? You’re practically ancient now, they probably teach the kids these days history from when you were growing up.”

Whatever Alexia looks like she’s going to be helping with looks like something she’s definitely not qualified in, although Alexia’s never the person to say no.

“You’re acting like I’m a dinosaur, I’m only four years older then you.”

She rolls her eyes at you and it feels so normal, for a second you feel so much more normal. Life would be so much easier if everybody stopped treating you like a fine fucking piece of china. An eye roll here or there, a yell here or there, some kind of emotion beyond sympathy would be nice.

“I mean, in comparison to Vicky you’re pretty much from the stone ages.”

Alexia rolls her eyes again, she looks like she’s about to fight back against you but a knock at the door silences you both.

All of a sudden the little smile is gone and the air goes thick again, thick with the reminder that you can’t just exist in a bubble of nothingness were nobody else exists and you can just be free from everything.

Alexia gets up to open the door, and you let her, allowing yourself to loiter around the table and enjoy the moment for just a little bit longer. It’s that moment that might just get you through what is about to happen.

Alexia calls for you and you know it’s Mapi, you know it’s Mapi because Mapi won’t step foot in your apartment.

Ingrid had come to visit when you’d come home, along with a handful of other people, but Mapi hadn’t been one of them. Ingrid had explained that it had been to hard for her, that she’d made it to the door but couldn’t come in, and you couldn’t find it in you to blame her.

Mapi smiles at you when she sees you, it’s the first time you’ve seen her since the hospital and the both of you look very different since then.

She looks less dead, that’s the first thing you take notice of. She doesn’t look like she would blow away into a puff of smoke if a gust of wind came past. She looks good, she looks healed.

Mapi and you don’t talk, for whatever reason, you take the normal walk you would every sunday morning before it happened.

Down from your apartment, onto the main street, up to the mouth of the road, across the street and then onto the boardwalk.

It’s the main reason you chose your apartment, it’s right next to the beach. Perfect for post matchday swims and a morning walk on the beach. It used to be yours and Mapi’s pregame routine and it’s easy to fall into the rhythm of your feet moving down the sidewalk.

No words are spoken until the two of you are seated on the sand, a wordless agreement that you both come to when your toes hit the beach.

You’re both seated, your eyes looking over the horizon. Your too scared to break the silence, so you wait for Mapi.

“You look good, chica.”

You nod your head, you feel better, you must look better then how you did.

“I feel better.”

Mapi nods, when her hand reaches out to sit on top of your own on the sand, you don’t flinch away, it feels good to have a physical connection with a person who isn’t Alexia.

The silence falls over the two of you again, except this time it feels less uncomfortable. You let it linger for a little bit, before you feel in a place to speak.

“I need to say thank you. I know I said some things in the hospital, I meant it in the moment but I want to take it back now. You saved me, you did something so brave and amazing and the version of me now is so grateful that you did.”

Mapi stops your rant, before you can say something else.

“I would have done it for anybody else.”

The problem is you think, that you aren’t anybody else. It would be so much easier to give cpr to a random person on the street and never see them again, never have to be worried that you would see them again and there would be some kind of problem.

“But you did it for me. You saved me from myself, and I want you to know that I genuinely am so thankful for you. You didn’t choose the easy option and I put you in a extremely hard position. If anything had of happened to me, you would have blamed yourself and it wouldn’t have been your fault but you would have felt like it was.”

Mapi nods, and then you hear a sniffle and it makes you feel horrible.

Mapi’s crying, she’s crying and you don’t know what to do.

“You begged me to reverse it, in the hospital, you didn’t say some things. You begged me to stab you or do something. You told me it was my fault you were alive and that it was my responsibility to undo what I’d done.”

You take a deep breath, you didn’t remember it being that bad, but you remember Alexia telling you that some of the things you’d said had been unrepeatable.

“I can’t reverse what I said, in that moment I was in so much pain Maps. I actually can’t tell you how much pain i was in, all I wanted was to disappear. I’m working through not feeling that way and that starts by apologising. You did not deserve to experience what you did. You did not deserve to see what you did. You did not deserve to hear what I said to you. I am sorry. There is nothing I can say that will make any of it okay, I am sorry that for whatever reason god chose you to be the person burdened with this. I am so sorry.”

Mapi sniffles again. You knew that the possibility of no reconciliation was possible, that Mapi would reject any offer of apologies you had, you’d just really hoped it wouldn’t be like that.

“You’ve been like a little sister to me. I know you didn’t feel like we were that close, but I saw so much of me in you from when I was younger, and that was part of the reason I ended up at your apartment that night. Because I was worried, more then anybody else. I had this weird feeling, and I hated that I was right about it. You were like my little sister, and I watched as they strapped you onto a gurney and wheeled you off whilst telling me that they would try their hardest. I don’t blame you, there is no blame for something like this. But I need you to understand that I can’t just get over what I www, I’m working through it, I’m trying. My therapist has really been helping me, but it’s not going to disappear.”

You nod, Mapi and you have been through two mirroring experiences, and oddly you feel the same way about your own therapy. You’re working through it, you’re trying, but nothing that has happened is ever going to disappear, with yourself or with your peers.

“Maps, you’re allowed to experience however you want. If you never want to see me again I won’t hate you.”

Mapi shakes her head.

“I don’t know how I feel yet, I just need you to know that I understand that the you right now is different to the you from weeks ago, and you are entitled to separate yourself from that person. You don’t have to be that person if you don’t want to be. Let yourself live in the new version of you, the old version died back then.”

You bite your lip, there is beginning to become a permanent divet from your front teeth, you like it in a weird way.

“I’m trying, I’m really trying.”

Mapi nods, raising her arm from your hand, to your shoulders, bringing you into her side.

“We’ll try together then, huh? You try for me and I’ll try for you?”

You nod your head, and for the first time it doesn’t feel like you’re totally alone in the battle that you’re fighting. It’s still very much your battle, but it feels like you have somebody in your corner letting you know that you are going to be okay.

—————————————

well aware it’s not edited… if u have an issue with that such my dick xoxo

hope you enjoyed !!!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

[bbydoll18xx]

Guilty As Sin?

'We've already done it in my head'

Paige Bueckers x reader

I've never written anything, so this could very well be terrible, but I have a teeny tiny crush and it's killing me lol here we go!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: some naughty thoughts, ANGST, friends to lovers aka my fave

....................................................................................................

If there was one thing you had learned throughout your time at uconn, it was that it was pretty fucking difficult being Paige Buecker’s best friend. 

You had met her early in your freshman year when the boisterous blonde was partnered with you in an introductory biology course. You attempted to hold back a groan and an eyeroll as you heard your professor assign the two of you together for an upcoming lab project. You hated group projects, and even more, you could not stand the prospect of not getting a good grade in a class so important for your major. 

Paige, even as a freshman, was extremely popular. Her incessant smirk caused girls to blush under her gaze, and the boys basically broke their necks trying to impress her. She was the type of girl who knew she was hot shit.

Unfortunately, that was your type.

As Paige strolled over to where you were waiting for her, you tried desperately to ignore the uptick of your pulse. ‘Get it together,’ you thought to yourself. Girls like that should have no control over you.

“Hey, I’m Paige. I don’t think we’ve met. I would’ve remembered someone like you,” she murmurs flirtatiously, looking you up and down. Trying to keep the pink out of your cheeks and taking a deep breath, you hold out your hand and introduce yourself. 

That was the beginning of the wildly complex and intimate friendship you would build with Paige.

As a senior in college, you had learned many things: don't drink copious amounts of alcohol without eating some carbs first, avoid getting into ubers alone, do not, under any circumstances, hook up with your TA, and falling in love with your best friend is never good.

It started off innocently enough.

Paige was clingy and affectionate to those she was close with. You, being bisexual and surrounded by mostly straight people before coming to uconn, were hesitant with showing any sort of affection. You had always worried about accidentally giving your girl friends the wrong impression. Paige never cared, though, as she conditioned you into accepting hugs and tentative hand-holding. You grew to crave her warm, longer fingers wrapped around yours or her hand resting on your leg when she’s next to you at dinner or in the car. 

You had realized you were head over heels for her in your sophomore year, and the rest was history.

History you’d very much like to forget.

You were laying on the couch in your apartment. Music filled the room and you basked in the warmth of the sunshine. You rarely have moments of peace anymore, now that school had started back up.

Suddenly, the front door flung open dramatically, allowing several members of uconn’s women’s basketball team to enter as if they owned the place. 

“Hey girlie pop!” screamed KK. “We are going out tonight, and before you say no, you are coming with us.” 

“What happened to bodily autonomy?” You questioned with an eye roll. This happened all the time. Paige and her teammates had made it their personal mission to turn you into an alcoholic.

“Fuck that,” chirped Paige. “You had all week to chill, and I will not stand for that shit for another minute. Party P is comin' out in full force tonight, and I expect the same from yo' ass."

You let your eyes lock with hers. God that shade of blue made you want to drown in it, gasping for sanity as if it was air. 

“C’mon, you always do this. We’re going crazy tonight,” demanded Nika.

Pretending to think about it, you hesitantly agree. You didn’t have any control when it came to Paige. Whatever she wanted from you, she got. You chalked it up to being best friends, but your stupid brain always reminded you of the true source of power.

Paige, Nika, KK, and Azzi all celebrated as you acquiesced, already planning drink orders, outfits, and song requests at the bar they always frequented.

You sighed as Paige sat down next to you. You could handle this. You always did. Focused on anything other than her, you pick at a piece of lint on the soft green couch. Everything seemed to be a distraction from her. The heat of her body sends your pulse racing, just as it did the very first time you met. She really was an enigma.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” she murmurs softly. “Wouldn't be the same if you weren’t there.”

Taking a page out of the Paige playbook, you look her up and down and respond with an “I know.” She momentarily wears a look of shock, before her lips slide into that smirk again, and she laughs. The sound makes you want to run through a field of flowers and then jump from a building.

The pregame was, like always, chaotic, loud, and gave you anxiety. A drunk Paige was a clingy Paige, and you were not sure you could handle the extra touching tonight. One of the bottles of vodka that sat on the counter in the kitchen was beckoning to you, and you decided quickly that the only way you were getting through the night was with copious amounts of alcohol.

As you swallowed with a grimace, feeling the burn slide down your throat and settle into a warm pool in your belly, the door opened. Paige appeared, rubbing her hands together, looking like she was ready to fuck shit up. Your shit already felt ruined as you gulped at the sight of her. The black crop top she had on made you quickly spin around, shooting another shot in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the hunger that was brewing.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there. We don’t need you wasted before we even leave,” Paige taunts teasingly, as she saunters over to you.

With your cheeks pink and inhibitions already lowered, you licked your lips in a manner you could only hope looked seductive and put the bottle into her outstretched hand. For the second time today, a flicker of surprise graced her features. ‘Good,’ you thought. ‘Two can play that game.’ 

As Ted’s was close to the apartments you all were living in, it was decided that a walk would be more efficient than attempting to wrangle the numerous already drunk girls into ubers.

You cherished the warm breeze flowing through your hair, allowing it to briefly sober you up.  Walking alongside Azzi and Caroline, you let out another small sigh, catching their attention. Your feelings were evident to pretty much everyone except Paige, and her teammates often tried to coax you into admitting your feelings to her. 

“Try to have fun tonight. Find someone hot to grind on, and you’ll feel better,” Azzi said unhelpfully. You laughed, but it wasn't a bad idea. “You’re right. I need a distraction. And preferably someone who is not blonde,” You muttered, causing Azzi and Caroline to giggle. 

Paige’s head whipped around at the sound of laughter. She pouted for a second before bounding over to you. She secretly hated the attention you gave her teammates; she wanted you all to herself.

Paige was possessive, as well as mouthy when drunk, which could be a messy combination. But Paige did not care about being messy tonight. She wanted your attention and your attention only. She knew she could very well embarrass herself, but the desperation of needing your attentiveness was far more important. She could handle her anxieties in the morning. 

“There’s my pretty princess,” Paige announces loudly, taking your hand into hers, almost possessively. The pet name wasn’t unfamiliar. Paige called you every name under the sun except the one on your birth certificate, yet the sudden affection caused your heart to lurch dangerously.

You needed a drink.

The bar was already buzzing when you walked in alongside the girls, still being pulled along by the tall blonde. You were fortunate it was dark inside, allowing a sense of privacy to indulge in the intimacy Paige was supplying to you.

She places a hand on your waist, looking down at you. “Imma get you a drink, babe. Stay here with the girls, and do not let any creeps touch you.” You could tell the few drinks she had at the pregame were already getting to her. She was getting more proprietorial.

You nodded, but you wanted to see how far you could push her. You’d do anything for her attention, even if that meant flirting with a boring guy to test her. She was sexy when she was pissed.

You fantasized about the way her jaw clenches when she's angry, as you scoped out for someone to be the target of your favorite unhealthy game. A six-foot blonde with light blue eyes catches your gaze, and you smirk. ‘Game time,’ you think.

With a smoldering look in your eyes, and the alcohol in your veins to keep you feeling confident, you walk up to the guy and introduce yourself. You find out his name was Josh and quickly shift in closer to him, feigning intimacy you would only ever want with Paige. 

It’s not long before you feel Paige slide between you and Josh, creating the distance you wanted since you walked up to him. 

“Paigey!” you exclaim. “This is Josh. He wants to dance with me.”

You see Paige jaw clench in annoyance and she pushes the drink she brought you into your hand before wrapping her now free arm around your waist with her hand splayed against your belly. You shiver at the contact.

“Go away before I make you, bro. She’s mine,” Paige practically barks at Josh. He shrinks away with a weird expression on his face.

You weren’t sad to see him go.

“Thanks for rescuing me, Paigey,” you beam up at her and take a drink. Paige’s eyes never leave your lips as you bite them, looking around the crowded bar. Your lips are pink from the gloss you just applied, and she thinks about how they’d feel against hers. 

Paige would never admit it aloud, but she thinks about you. She thinks about your dimples when you smile at her. She thinks about your laugh. She thinks about how you taste. In her head, they are together. In her head, you are spread out underneath her, begging for her tongue, her fingers, for anything.

Paige is used to people throwing themselves at her, and the idea of rejection, especially from you, makes her shrink back in fear. 

Paige’s eyes are hazy as the dirty Shirley starts to float its way through her veins. She relishes in the feeling of lowered inhibitions and the perfect excuse to get closer to you. Paige pulls you into her to dance. With the alcohol fully in your system, as well, you giggle and seductively dance against her. You can feel the tight muscles of her abs up against you, and you swallow thickly. It's difficult to ignore the way it makes you feel hot and sticky. 

“God, P,” you mumbled against her pale throat. 

“You look so good dancin’ against me, you don’t even know, babe,” Paige replies with her signature smirk.

You could feel the boundaries of your friendship slowly stretching to accommodate the feelings of lust sparking between the two of you.

Between the dancing and the large amounts of alcohol flowing, the night flew by quickly. Soon, you were getting pulled through the door and back out into the chilly Connecticut air with Paige holding you steady. You were a notorious lightweight compared to the girls of the basketball team, and that hadn’t changed tonight. 

“P-paigeyyy,” you whined needily. “Need you,” you pouted up at the blonde. The other girls in your vicinity shared curious looks with each other. You had never acted like this before whilst drunk, and no one really knew how to respond, Paige included. 

“What do ya need from me, princess?” Paige asked with a chuckle.

You motion for her to lean down, and you whisper in her ear, “kisses.” 

“Oh? You wanna kiss me?” Paige questions, feeling all the blood rush to her head.

You nod with a dreamy look on your face. You were going to regret this in the morning, but right now all you could think about was how soft her lips looked and how much you wished you could be hers.

'We've already done it in my head,' you thought drunkenly.

Paige looks down at you with an unrecognizable look, but she presses a soft kiss on your forehead and says, ‘“let's get you home and to bed, doll.” 

As you stumble back into Paige’s apartment and onto her bed, you look up at her and raise your hands over your head, making grabby hands at her. Paige rolls her eyes fondly but helps you get undressed. Walking you into the bathroom, she lifts you up onto the counter effortlessly, helping you take your makeup off and brush your teeth.

It felt so domestic you could cry.

Climbing into bed, your drunk mind prepared itself to sleep next to Paige. It would never feel like enough to you. You wanted all of her. 

Paige lies down behind you, wrapping a long and muscular arm around your waist, caging you in just the way you like it. You are a second away from sleep enveloping you, when you think you hear Paige whisper, “I am so in love with you.”

Your heart stops.

You wake up the next morning with your head pounding. You squint your eyes and look around. Paige is still sleeping next to you. You gently smile as you gaze at her peaceful figure. You wish you could stop time to stay here in this bubble with her. Soon, you’ll go back to being just Paige’s best friend, and the relationship you’ve built up in your head will come crashing back down.

Soon enough, the blonde wakes up, ripping you from your daydreams. She smiles at you, and turns over to completely face your body. “Crazy night, huh,” she alludes slyly.

Your eyebrows crinkle in question. “Did something happen?"

“Uh yeah…you don’t remember what you said to me?” she asks.

You shake your head in confusion, but you start to attempt to recall the events of last night, and all of a sudden it comes back to you. You recall asking her to kiss you, hanging all over her, and the incessant pouting and neediness. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment, and immediately you jump out of bed to leave.

“Wait, don’t go please,” Paige pleads in a way that is startling unlike her.

You ignore her pleas, gathering your stuff and running out of her apartment. Tears burn your eyes as they threaten to slide down your face. You try to stifle your sobs as you climb the stairs two at a time and get to your own door. You throw yourself into your shower as you attempt to drown out your own cries. 

As you sat on the floor of your shower you could not believe how stupid you were. Drunk flirting with your best friend would be the end of your friendship. You could see it already. Paige coming to you, trying to let you down easy. You felt so humiliated.

You sat there until the water got uncomfortably cold, leaving goosebumps against your skin. As you toweled off, you replayed the events of last night in your head for the millionth time. The dancing in the bar, the walk back to Paige’s apartment, her helping you undress. You sigh at the idea of losing her before it all comes crashing back.

“I am so in love with you,” she had whispered into your hair. You still at the memory. Paige loves you? Sure it's common knowledge that you loved and craved her with all of your being, but a love that was requited? It was almost too much to think about. 

You grab your phone that you had left abandoned on the couch and see the messages from the blonde. Messages of regret and longing fill your phone. One more pops up as you scroll, saying ‘I’m coming over. I won’t let you avoid me over this bullshit.’ 

A few moments passed before there was a loud banging on the door to your apartment. You had never felt so appreciative that your roommates had left for the weekend. Your breath grew ragged as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a panting Paige. Her blue eyes looked almost wild as they met yours.

“C’mere, just let me explain,” she says quietly. You weren't used to Paige being quiet and almost solemn. It scared you, just as the thought of confrontation did. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. 

Fighting your own instincts to immediately bolt, you gingerly sit on the couch where she had already made herself comfortable. Some things never change.

“Listen,” she starts out cautiously. “I never want things to be weird between us. I never imagined I would be feeling this way towards someone who was just a friend, but…I think we haven’t been ‘just friends’ in a while.”

You finally allow yourself to meet her gaze, trying to search for any semblance of where this conversation could possibly be going. Surprisingly, she looked hopeful, as if she knew something you did not.

“I-i want you. Like, more than a friend,” Paige stutters out, “And I think you feel the same way. We’ve both been too scared to admit it, but I’m tired of ignoring how you literally make me feel whole.”

You blink back more tears in realization that the last three years of hell of being only Paige Bueckers’ best friend was finally coming to an end. She could finally be all yours and yours only.

Without thinking, you place a hand on her jaw, bringing her to your lips. They meet yours with such hesitancy you almost think you’ve ruined the delicate balance of what you are to each other at the moment. Paige lets out a breathy sigh and pulls you onto her lap. 

You were heavenstruck. 

As the both of you finally pull away from the drug of a kiss, you look at each other and giggle.

“So much for the dramatics, I guess,” laughs Paige. 

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Not my fault,” you pout. “I have no control when it comes to you, P.”

“Same,” grins Paige. “The only thing left to do is figure out how to tell the girls. They’ve all been beggin’ me to tell you ‘bout my lil crush on you.”

“Those bitches knew?” you ask incredulously.

“Well yeah,” Paige says. “I’m not subtle.”

You giggle at how stupid you felt. The signs were there all along, but the fear of rejection and the cloud of lust had obscured any indications of reciprocity. 

“Let’s just start making out the next time we’re in front of them and see how they react,” Paige suggests with a waggle of her eyebrows. 

You could hear the whoops and cheers already.

“Deal,” you say blissfully. 

She was finally yours. 

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #8: Football

Coach Bryce could feel his hair turning gray as he thought about the team’s current dilemma. “It’s a real shitshow,” he sighed, looking over to gauge the reaction of his beautiful coworker, Sharon Fletcher; she was a renowed researcher at the university and the target of the coach’s heart.

Ever since the two of them had met, Coach Bryce had tried to ask her out for some kind of date, but she was either oblivious or uninterested. However, such a cold reaction only served to fuel Coach Bryce’s passion.

Today, Sharon was once again uncaring to Coach Bryce’s bemoaning. She simply unzipped her lunch-bag and pulled out her meal. Bryce spoke again, voice just a tiny bit louder so she could definitely hear, “All of my players, suspended. Can you believe it?”

Finally, Sharon’s gaze met the coach’s. “All of them? Oh wow, I knew that they had done something wrong in that party last week, but I had no idea it was something of that magnitude.”

“Yeah, well… can’t say they don’t deserve it. But we’ve got a game coming up, so we’re gonna have to just concede it,” said Coach Bryce. He inwardly smiled to himself as he saw the normally stoic Sharon’s expression squeeze into a look of genuine sympathy. At least he had that small comfort in such turbulent times.

However, Sharon’s expression quickly turned into something akin to a predatory grin. A shiver went down the coach’s spine as she began to titter. “Tell me something, Coach Bryce,” she said, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Can I trust you to keep a secret…? And also sign an NDA beforehand? I think I have a solution that’ll make both you and the Dean happy.

Coach Bryce, neck sweaty and goosebumps running down his arms, just said, “I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

~o~

The Delphi Project was the university’s pride and joy. It was also the most highly-guarded secret the university had. “Delphi was where Apollo’s oracle rested and delivered her visions of the future. It was believed to have been the center of the world by the Ancient Greeks, and…” Sharon continued the history lesson, but Coach Bryce soon stopped listening. Instead, he fumbled around with the buttons of the uncomfortable lab coat he had been given prior to entering. Not only that but the goggles were annoying as well.

“Please do not remove that,” said Sharon with a tight tone and a forced smile. “Lab policies, as I’m sure you’re aware. Right, coach?” Embarrassed, Coach Bryce gave a grunt of affirmation, and Sharon continued the tour. She continued to speak some nonsense or another before stopping in front of a large machine with two pods that resembled tanning booths connected to it. “The Delphi Project concerns itself primarily with human consciousness. Essentially, it is the next step to reaching the digitization and transfer of ‘the soul.’ Some of us here even believe that this is how humanity can reach this place called ‘Paradise,’ or ‘Nirvana.’”

“Oh yeah, heard of their music once or twice," said Coach Bryce, enthusiastic now that he could participate in the discussion. "Dunno if it’s my cup o’ Joe, to be honest, but to each their own!” he said with boisterous laughter.

Sharon’s smile seemed to grow even tighter and her voice became the tiniest bit more strained as she spoke. “Right. Well, as I was saying, the purpose of this machine is the transfer of consciousness. While we have been able to digitize and transfer the human consciousness—the soul, as some would call it—we haven’t been able to find any sort of machine with the space large enough to store it. Nothing… except for another human vessel.”

In other words, the only thing that could be transferred is one person to another. It took a few more explanations for Coach Bryce to understand that, but he got the basic idea. Once he understood that, he could guess what was Sharon’s plan.

“So what you want to do is transfer other people into the bodies of my team, so technically we can still play while still punishing the knuckleheads.” Technical or scientific knowledge wasn’t his forte, but his mind was still crafty and strategic. Once he understood all the pieces on the table, he could put them all together quickly. “Will the Dean even agree to this? Seems… kinda risky. And will my players be okay once this is all over?”

Sharon smile sweetly and assured him that all tests have shown that both parties have suffered no side-effects from the experiments they’ve done. “However, if there is even a single dissenting voice, we will not go through with the experiment. That last thing we would want to do is carry this out without anyone’s explicit consent. We are strict with ethics here. As for the Dean, I believe I can convince her. Delphi is our pride and joy, even if we can’t be out and proud about it. Of course, there is one more caveat to this whole thing you must agree to, coach.”

~o~

To say that the players were shocked and horrified would be an understatement. Coach Bryce gathered them all in the locker room to break the news, which only made their voices even more irritating as they echoed in the small room. Some of the players cried foul, others argued that his was invasive to their rights, while a few let out a few swears about letting a bunch of losers parade around in their bodies. “All right, that’s enough!” Coach Bryce shouted. “I know it’s a weird prospect, but if we want even the slightest chance of making play-offs, we can’t afford to forfeit this next game.”

As always, it was easy for the coach to rile up his players. None of them dared to argue when Coach Bryce brought up the incident that put them in this Catch-22. “And, if I’m being honest… I’ll be in the same boat as y’all,” he said, looking down to avoid his team’s shocked looks as he recounted what Sharon had told him.

“Day of the game, I’ll have to borrow your body in order to properly observe the test subjects during our most important trial run. Don’t worry, you’ll only lose your body for a weekend, at most,” Sharon had said with a most bewitching smile.

Thinking about her tone and voice as she said all of that, Coach Bryce couldn’t help but grow the slightest bit aroused. He hoped that none of his players could see how flushed he was recalling that night. Of course, he also omitted that last part—there was no need for the team to know how uneven the whole deal actually was.

“Even after all of this, we’re still a team!” Coach Bryce suddenly cried out. Not only did he need to convince those last few fence-sitters, but he also needed to distract himself before he got hard in front of all the players. He hadn’t been able to get off properly ever since a messy break-up with his former girlfriend, so Sharon’s siren voice kept bouncing around his skull.

A nice speech would be a good distraction for now. He continued to bellow out platitudes about staying together and how they were all in one boat at the end of the day. “So, please consider. This may be our chance to not throw away everything we’ve worked all semester for. Think about it. Later… we’ll put it to a vote. If we come to a unanimous vote, we’ll go through with it. So if anyone feels uncomfortable, we’ll decline and throw the match.” He retreated back to his office and took a deep breath. Already, there was a plan forming in his head.

When Coach Bryce returned to take the vote, he made sure that the votes could not be anonymous. Just by glancing at the expressions on the players’ faces, he could tell that the majority was willing to go through with it, but there were a few sparse dissenters spread throughout the crowd. However, when he asked, “All in favor?” everyone raised their hands. The peer pressure assured that their fate was sealed. Coach Bryce nodded and told the team that he’d email them Sharon’s instructions.

Later that night, Coach Bryce jerked himself off as he imagined the idea of Sharon being inside of him.

~o~

Game night came and went, and nobody in the audience nor the opposing team suspected any foul play. All the players performed as well as they usually did, baring a minor hiccup or two. The only anomaly that anyone noticed was Coach Bryce, usually watching with a red-face and barking orders at the team, was perfectly stone-faced the entire match, even when the team just barely clutched out a win.

Later, Dr. Sharon Fletcher looked down Bryce’s thick, hairy hands. Due to the various tests they’ve run with Delphi, being a male wasn’t new to her, but she was still surprised by just how masculine the coach was. “Ah, I got distracted again,” she said to herself as she returned to the report on her laptop. It was difficult to type at the speeds she was comfortable with, but that was the price to pay for valuable data at such a close distance.

“Overall, subjects found themselves quickly adapting to their new forms, which supports to the hypothesis that muscle memory is one of the most important factors during learning. It’s possible that…” Coach Bryce’s thick, masculine fingers stopped and stared at the screen. It was one of Sharon’s most frustrating part of being a scientist. She loved getting her hands on interesting data and interpreting it, but it was when she had to stop and write down her thoughts that she found herself unable to commit for long periods of time. “This will revolutionize the field of learning, but…” She let out a sigh before packing up her laptop to leave. Coach Bryce’s office, with all of its football posters, brights flags, and pictures was not the ideal environment to sit down and type out her reports. She would continue in the library tomorrow. With that settled, she left the office and began the trek to her home for the weekend.

Just before Sharon transferred into Bryce’s body, he had given her a copy of the key to his apartment. “It’d be odd if they saw my entering and leaving your home,” he had told her. Well, he had elaborated on the point for quite a while, Sharon hadn’t been interested in his hearing his logic. Her thoughts then and even now were, Why bother caring about who sees you spending time with you? It was nothing to do with how well you can do your job.

Either way, Sharon took the bus to and allowed his muscular legs to carry her to Bryce’s apartment. She thought about it as another opportunity to further her research, but there was something so fascinating about just moving about with Coach Bryce. His natural, mature gait was addicting. Just for research’s sake (her own fun), she continued to walk around the hallways and even up the stairs, forgoing the elevator. Even after climbing several stories, she didn’t even feel the least bit tired. In her old body, she would’ve been halfway dead and anemic by the time she reached Bryce’s apartment, but now she was hardly out of breath. Fascinating, she thought to herself, mistaking her lust for curiosity.

Without thinking, Sharon made her way to Bryce’s apartment and began to shed off his clothes until her borrowed body was clad in nothing but a shirt and a pair of boxers. Oh, huh… I hadn’t meant to take off so much of his clothes, she thought to herself, but her body had moved without her knowledge. Still, Sharon saw no reason to not allow it to continue. It was better to allow the body to continue its natural habits.

It was for that reason that, after drawing a bath, Sharon dipped Coach Bryce’s into the bathtub and relaxed his sore muscles. “Phew… oh, this feels so nice,” said Sharon. After such a long day of experiment, research, and overworking herself, it was nice to relax in a bath. If she could, she would spend all day in a bath and enjoy this nice, burly body. She raised his arms and rested them behind his head, apparently a natural position for the coach to be in with a bath. With soap and a loofah sponge, Sharon explored Bryce’s body. His personality wasn’t anything special, but she enjoyed the way that his body moved whenever he worked out in the gym or in the field outside in the lawn. The sweat dripping from his bearded chin was nice. Usually, Sharon wasn’t really interested in dating men, but their bodies were nice to look at.

And, as she groped and massaged various parts of Bryce’s body, Sharon realized just how nice it was to touch them like this. “Ohh… ohh…! Oh my god!” Somehow, this was the most sensitive body she had ever transferred into. Was the coach simply that much more sensitive than the other hosts, or was the process itself magnifying the sensitivity to touch? Sharon’s scientific mind was going on overdrive while just about every part of her was busy indulging in Coach Bryce’s appealing and overly sexual body. “C-Coach Bryce, y-you’re so… ngh… ahh…!” The moans that escaped his lips drove Sharon insane as well. It became a feedback loop: Sharon, hoping to draw out more data and more moans from Coach Bryce groped his body, which only drew out more automatic moans from her borrowed lungs.

It was also the strength and the sheer amount of command that Sharon had. The thick, almost sausage-like, fingers and powerful core and moved at her command. Coach Bryce was like a glove for her to put on, nothing more. The power behind it was intoxicated. Each muscle obeyed Sharon, and it was because she deserved it.

Coach Bryce’s body stiffened as it felt the inevitable happen. The waves of pleasure that nearly threaten to shatter her very mind. Sharon grit her borrowed teeth, groans of guttural and masculine ecstasy only just barely restrained for the first few torrents of cum that launched high into the air. However, Sharon could not contain it for much longer. She tilted her head back, tongue sticking out as Coach Bryce’s hips thrust on their own as the last of the world-shattering climax erupted through the jiggling, hairy frame.

This is the first time I’ve ever masturbated with such intensity, Sharon thought to herself. She had explored the other test subjects—other professors and coaches at the univerity—and Coach Bryce was definitely her favorite. She had to test out just how and why his body was so sensitive. Yes, she needed more tests. She needed to take over the bodies of all her previous test subjects and continue to explore and compare the pleasure that came from each of them. Only then would her hunger for pleasure and data—two things that were basically the same to her—would be satiated.

Of course, that should be easy to accomplish. Just about every person in campus owes me a favor, and the Dean will certainly enjoy this delicious data—especially if I record it all for her. I wonder how much freedom I can have if I offer to give the Dean such an opportunity? I’m sure she’ll love it now that we know it’s perfectly safe.

Sharon sighed and sank even further into the warm, now slightly milkier, water. Her new muscles certainly seemed to enjoy the sensation. Now all she had to do was to just enjoy the weekend in the perfect body for it.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

make it work (mv33)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)

summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work

prev part

The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.

When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.

You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.

“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.

George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.

You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.

Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.

George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.

You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.

“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.

You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.

“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”

“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.

“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”

Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.

“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.

“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.

Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”

He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.

“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.

Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.

He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.

“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.

“He cares about the people he loves.”

“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.

You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.

Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”

You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.

“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”

You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.

“Really?”

“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.

“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.

“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.

You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”

“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”

He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.

“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.

Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.

You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.

The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.

Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.

redbullracing and mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername

redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍

[just-jordie-things]

truth or dare - fushiguro megumi

word count: 6.2k warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking weed summary: the classic party game gets megumi and (y/n) get flustered when they’re asked just how intimate their friendship is. more info: all characters are aged up! a/n: all those kiss prompts had this idea brewing in my head lol ___

It probably wasn’t a good idea to be drinking and smoking in the common room of the main temple, but it was a special occasion, having all of the first and second years in the same place at once.  That hadn’t even happened for the Exchange Event.  So when Nobara suggested celebrating, everyone agreed rather quickly.

(y/n’s) not sure who was able to get their hands on pot, or the beer and rum, but she mentally praises them as she takes a drag of the blunt currently in rotation before passing it off to Megumi beside her.

He gives her a lazy smile, his eyes hooded from the weed already in his system, but he happily takes another hit before passing it to Yuji.  (y/n) can’t help but watch him as he does, her gaze focused on his long fingers which handle the dwindling blunt with ease.  She’s a bit lost in her thoughts already, but she doesn’t mind the warm haze over her mind.

“Need a refill,” Maki says, standing from her seat between Yuuta and Panda on the sofa, wiggling her empty red solo cup.  “Anyone else?”

Nobara’s quick to leap up and follow, even though some of her drink sloshes out of her cup as she does.  (y/n) and Megumi share a look, giggling quietly between themselves at the total girl crush that Nobara had on Maki.  it had become sort of an inside joke between them, but they’re sure the others have noticed, too.

Toge and Yuji also follow after the girl, eager to refill their cups, too.

“You wanna place money on if they’ll hook up tonight?” (y/n) murmurs from behind her cup, so as not to be heard by Yuuta and Panda.

From where they’re sitting on the floor, it’s a few feet away from the couch, but she didn’t want to make it obvious that they were gossiping about their friends.  But with half their crew leaving the room, their whispering is significantly more noticeable.

Megumi chuckles from next to her, and discreetly slides a little closer to her so he could also speak low under his breath without being noticed.

“Twenty bucks, Maki makes the first move” 

(y/n’s) laughter is less than discreet, although she’s still hiding her lips behind her cup, as if the plastic is doing anything to keep her hidden.  Megumi would tell her that her cup isn’t doing her any favors, but he’s too amused by it, so he keeps it to himself.

The pair were practically attached at the hip, and they had been ever since (y/n) joined Jujutsu Tech.  She’d enrolled shortly after Megumi, so for quite some time, they were the only first years.  Which gave them plenty of time to get to know each other.  It didn’t take long for them to become the perfect team- both on assignments and just in general.  Megumi’s not sure he’s ever had a best friend before, but it was easy to look at (y/n) and know she was the closest person in his life.  After all, she was the only person whom he could indulge gossiping with, of all things.  He thinks perhaps she could convince him of indulging in anything.

He was here drinking and sharing a blunt with her, wasn’t he? 

When Yuji and Nobara also joined them, it was clear to everyone that his bond with (y/n) was different, because he didn’t treat them nearly the same as he treated her.  Even though he’d easily say they were close friends too, they simply weren’t (y/n).  She was his best friend.

“Really? After how Nobara just skipped after her?” (y/n) draws him out of his thoughts with a shake of her head.  “I’ll take your twenty bucks, and I’m putting it all on Nobara”

“Alright, you’re on” Megumi sticks his hand out, and (y/n) shakes it with a confident smirk.

“Prepare to lose twenty dollars, ‘gumi” She declares.

If it was Itadori, he would’ve smacked his head and told him not to call him that.  But it’s (y/n), so he smiles as he tips his cup to his lips.

When the others return, each taking their respective seats in the awkward circle they’d made, Yuji announces the great idea he’d come up with.

“We should play a game!” He says excitedly, practically falling onto the floor beside Megumi.  “Like a real party game!” 

“Spin the bottle!” Nobara announces, slurring her words just a little.

(y/n) doesn’t miss the way Megumi side eyes her before sending a pointed look Maki’s way.  She hides her giggles as she takes a long drink.

“We’re not playing spin the bottle,” Yuuta laughs at the idea, his cheeks pink.  Although it’s hard to tell if the idea makes him bashful, or if he was just crossfaded.  “Is there even anyone here you want to kiss?” 

Nobara rolls her eyes, muttering under her breath that he was boring.

“What about truth or dare?” Yuji suggests instead.  “That doesn’t have to involve kissing” 

“What’s with the obsession with kissing?” Yuuta mumbles to Panda, who shrugs his shoulders.

“But it could involve kissing?” Nobara questions, eyeing Yuji carefully.

“I mean,” Yuji looks around the group, who mostly seem indifferent to the idea.  “Yeah? I guess? No rules truth or dare?” 

“Nothing illegal” Megumi pipes up, because someone had to say it.

“Yeah, like drinking and doing drugs on campus” (y/n) agrees, giggling as she finishes off her drink.  Megumi chuckles at her but rolls his eyes.

Everyone agrees to truth or dare, and Yuji takes it upon himself to go first, since he’d suggested it.  His first victim is Toge, and he dares him to take a shot.  The cursed speech user gets up to bring the bottle of rum from the kitchen, and he takes a massive swig of the bottle.  The group hollers and whistles, surprised he’d so boldly drank more than his share.

“That was way more than a shot,” (y/n) mumbles, and only Megumi is close enough to hear her.  “Do you think he’ll get drunk and start cursing us to do stuff?” She asks, turning to him with a surprising amount of delight in her eyes.

“I don’t like that you look excited by that” Megumi mutters back.

“Could be fun” (y/n) shrugs a shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Toge points to Maki, who also gladly accepts a dare.  Toge texts her, daring her to do a handstand for a full minute.  She laughs at the simple challenge, and gets up from the couch to do her display in the middle of the group circle.  Again, everyone’s amazed at her ability to keep her handstand steady for the full time, even while intoxicated.

When she’s upright again, she takes a dramatic bow.

“Alright, who wants next?” She grins deviously, eyeing her group of friends who all seem equally excited to watch the fun continue, and anxious to be the one she calls on.

However one stands out more anxious than the rest, and she eyes him down like he’s her natural prey.

“Megumi,” She points to him dramatically.

He groans, throwing his head back in a way that looks dramatic but is all too honest of a reaction.  He could tell by the excited twinkle in Maki’s eye that she intended to drag him through some sort of hell.  He had trained with her enough to be familiar with that look.  Being on the receiving end of it was nothing short of… chilling.

“Well what is it? Truth or dare?” Maki raises a brow, and the simple, game inducing question now sounds like a threat.

“I don’t trust you for a second, Maki,” Megumi’s eyes narrow back at her, and the room laughs and oohs.  

Beside him, (y/n) prods her elbow into his side, and when he casts her a quick glance, she beams with eagerness for him to take his turn.  He knows this is genuine excitement, but he can’t help but think of her as cruel for willing his certain embarrassment with this game.

“Truth” He finally answers Maki, who scoffs at his chicken-like behavior.

“Lame,” She grumbles, taking a swig of her drink while she lets her imagination run wild with the most ruthless question to bait him with.  

She mulls over the obvious questions which always come to mind, but brushes them off as typical, and boring.  And then her eyes land on (y/n), who’s giggling behind her drink, and clearly speaking but not loud enough for the group to hear.  Upon further observation, she can see Megumi mumbling back.  Curious, Maki smirks to herself at this interaction.  She’d always wondered about the… expanse… of the pair’s friendship, as had everyone else in the room right now.  Perhaps she could use the means of this silly party game to dig a little further.

“Alright, truth it is then,” She muses.  “Well then I’ll ask this one out of my own, genuine curiosity…” 

She gives him a look he can’t decipher but he knows he doesn’t like it.  Still, Megumi braces himself by putting on a brave face and tilting his cup in her direction for her to go on. 

“How many times have you and (y/n) hooked up?” 

While Megumi’s eyes go wide, it is (y/n) who reacts first.

She finally pulls her cup away from her lips, her jaw dropped open and her brows raised nearly to her hairline in shock.  A scoff escapes her, the odd choice of question hitting her chest and practically knocking the wind out of her.

“Hooked up?” (y/n) repeats, her brows falling into a furrow as she processes the question further.

Had she given some sort of indication that this was a… plausible question? Had she shown a little too much affection? Had she been caught staring when she could have sworn no one was paying her any attention? The thought that she’d given away the confusing feelings she’d harbored makes her heart race, and the hair on the back of her neck stand up.  She felt more fear now than she ever has when facing a curse.

“We’ve never hooked up,” Megumi’s answer feels hours late, but it had only been a minute in real time.  He’s shaking his head and scoffing at such a ridiculous choice of question, and clearly, he had no trouble calling Maki out on it.  “That’s really your truth? What kind of question is that? It’s obvious” 

(y/n) remains silent as she watches the conversation unfold.

Maki shrugs a shoulder as she purses her lips in thought.

“Really? Not ever?” She asks in disbelief.

“No, not ever” Megumi repeats.  

He looks more annoyed than anything.  Maybe even bored by her choice in question.  Of anything he could have prepared himself for, he supposed that was the easiest one to answer.  It was the truth, after all.  Had she asked him a more damning question pertaining to his feelings, well, maybe that would have been a bit tricker to glide over.  Still, something nags at him as to why Maki chose that question over all others.

“Well I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Nobara speaks up, and now the attention of Megumi and (y/n) are on her, waiting for her to say her piece.  “What?” She questions them with a drunken smile.  “You guys are super close.  You seem like the kind of friends that would… you know…” 

Rather than explain what she means, she decides to lewdly clasp her fingers and smack her palms together.  (y/n) chokes out a laugh, more so at her friend’s antics than the accusation, and Megumi’s face sours.

“Why would you think that?” He asks, his bewilderment beginning to shine through his annoyance.

“You’ve never even kissed?” Yuji pipes up now.

“Don’t you only get to ask me one question? Isn’t it my turn?” Megumi asks, trying to change the subject before this one makes his face turn red with embarrassment.

However, his timing is awful, and now the whole group are egging on the pair to answer Yuji’s question.  Even Yuuta is roped into the peer pressuring.

“You didn’t say you haven’t!” Panda whoops at Megumi’s lack of an answer.

“That’s not what I-” 

“So you have kissed then?” Maki asks with a devilish smirk.  Certainly she couldn’t have predicted this reaction, but Megumi thinks she’s enjoying it far too much.

“Tuna tuna!” Toge hollers.

(y/n) think she should probably say something to diffuse the situation, a quick laugh and shake of her head and she’s sure she’d convince her rowdy friends that nothing romantic had ever happened between her and Megumi.  It should be easy to say they were just friends, because that was the truth.

But her thoughts grow cloudy the longer she sits on it, and she finds herself unsure of what to say.  Maybe they’d never kissed, but… if one holds romantic feelings for another, then certainly romantic things had happened… right? 

Maybe she was just a bit cross faded, but she knows she’s found herself on numerous occasions getting lost in his eyes for a little longer than what she’d deem as friendly.  Maybe she wasn’t always sure why, maybe she was still exploring the realm of her feelings for Megumi, whatever they may be… but one thing was for sure.  There were feelings there.  More than friendly feelings.  Confusing feelings.  Feelings that made her heart race just at the idea of their friends thinking they’d been having some sort of casual affair all this time.

“Well how many times have you kissed then?” Yuuta asks, and Megumi sends him the harshest glare of all.  He was the only one left in the room that he’d been sure would mind his business, but clearly the upperclassman was just as nosey as the rest.

In Megumi’s silence, eyes begin to turn to (y/n), who isn’t bothering to hide her amused smile as she watches the drama go on.  However, now that their burning gazes are waiting on her response, she’s also struggling to find her words.

“What’re you looking at me for?” She tilts her cup to her lips again, eager for just a bit more liquid courage.

“Come on (y/n/n), we’re dying here,” Yuji begs, crawling across the carpet to plead with her, his hands clasped together and his face construed into his best puppy dog beg.  “How many times have you and ‘gumi kissed?” 

(y/n) barks out a laugh.  Megumi knocks his hand against the back of Yuji’s head.

“Don’t call me that” He scolds, and his eyes meet (y/n’s) for the briefest of moments, but he’s so sure that if he looks at her for too long that his entire face will go beet red, so he turns away quickly and hides behind a long swig of his drink.

“There’s nothing to tell,” (y/n) speaks for him, shrugging her shoulders with the lame answer.  “We’ve never done anything like that” 

“Yeah, we’re just friends,” Megumi confirms, and his tone is so genuine it almost stings (y/n) to hear it.  “You guys are ridiculous.  You’re all friends.  Are you hooking up all the time?” 

Yuji frowns as he hangs his head, bored by the answer.  “No” He mutters.

“Salmon!” Toge cheers, making the group break out into laughter and teasing again.

Their little makeshift party kicks back into gear and it seems the attention shifts away from Megumi and (y/n) quickly as everyone fights to make the funniest comment.  It takes a few minutes of cackling laughter before someone mentions the game, and Megumi is daring Panda to dance to the first song that comes on shuffle to his playlist.  Panda dares Yuuta to wrestle Yuji.  Yuuta makes Nobara tell the group she uses box dye for her hair.

The game continues on without a hitch, as though everyone had forgotten the detour they’d taken with Maki’s turn.  At least, the rest of the group had.  Megumi couldn’t help but tap his finger against the side of his plastic cup with anxiety.  The worry of the subject being brought up again made the tips of his ears go hot.  He knew he needed to forget it like everyone else had, but no matter how hard he tried, as soon as (y/n) was in his peripheral vision, the burning returned in his ears.

(y/n) put most of her focus on her drink.  And when it was starting to empty, no one batted an eye as she swiped the handle of rum from Nobara’s grasp and poured a healthy amount over the half-melted ice.  She too was trying to push past Maki’s question but not due to any sort of embarrassment.  Sure, it was a bit awkward, but she could live with awkward.  It was something about Megumi’s reaction that had gotten under her skin.

He’d seemed so uncomfortable, so annoyed, so repulsed by the line of questioning.  As though the thought of kissing her made him want to stick his tongue out and gag like a child at vegetables.

Am I vegetables? She wondered to herself as she watched the remainder of her ice melted into the alcohol, watering it down to a light brown color.  Am I so repulsive? 

Did drinking ever help anything, or anyone ever? No.  She knew that.  But right now it was the only thing keeping her mind cloudy enough that hopefully her discomfort and hurt wouldn’t shine through on her face.

It worked to some degree.  With half lidded eyes and a lazy smile she laughed along as Yuji admitted Taylor Swift always hypes him up for big missions, and Nobara alluded to having a crush on someone in the room.  While everyone seemed to move on, she just couldn’t get past the rock in her gut that was her pride being swallowed whole.

At some point the game of truth or dare subsided into a game of quarters.  (y/n) vaguely recalled tossing a few and having to drink down a few cups of beer, but the taste grew sour in her mouth, and she found herself bowing out once Yuuta and Maki got deep into the competition.  The others seemed to swarm them, taking sides and chanting loudly at them.  Sometime during that was hyping up, (y/n) found herself slipping out of the room and into the kitchen.

To her surprise, Megumi was there, a bag of chips in his hand.

“Oh, ‘gumi!” (y/n) beamed as she made her way over to him, taking the snack right of her hands to help herself to some as well.  “I didn’t even notice you left” 

He chuckles, stealing the bag back.

“I told you I was stepping out,” He reminded, her mouth making an ‘o’ shape as she made out a hazy memory of that happening when Maki had taken to throwing coins at Yuuta’s head to throw him off.  “You didn’t want to get caught up in the quarters tournament?” 

“It’s a tournament?” (y/n) mumbled to herself, blinking a few times to try and remember what events had transpired while she’d been lost in her thoughts.  “No, no, I don’t think I could keep up,” She answers his question sheepishly.  “Maki was getting a bit aggressive.  When I left I thought she might start straight up punching him” 

Megumi laughs a little louder this time.  His face is pink, and his long eyelashes hang heavy over his eyes.  (y/n) finds herself getting a little cloudy in the head again.  A lazy smile stretches on her face as they continue to share the bag of chips.  It was a family size, but she was pretty certain they’d finish them off before their friends even realized there were chips.

“I only play those games when there’s teams,” Megumi says, the gush of laughter that comes bubbling out of him likely due to the THC slowly flooding his system, but (y/n’s) no better because she’s giggling solely due to the fact he is.  “Being an opponent to Maki hurts too much” 

They’re both reduced to giggles, the snack between them forgotten as they’re taken over completely by them.  This continues for a few minutes, until Megumi’s stomach hurts, and (y/n’s) wiping tears out of her eyes.

“By the way,” He starts to speak as his laughter dies into breathless gasps.  He waits until he’s relaxed enough to continue.  “I’m sorry about earlier” 

A strange, electrical sensation courses through her, buzzing over her skin with a warmth that leaves goosebumps.  She feels as though someone had surged her with a static manifested shock.  Odd.

Was he sorry for the embarrassment? She wondered.  Or could he be sorry for the way he reacted?

“Oh, right,” She mumbles, not knowing what she was supposed to say.  Her face feels warm.  Her stomach feels fizzy.  Must be the beer.  “You don’t have to apologize” She finally settles on what she deems to be a safe answer.

“I should,” Megumi shrugs, ducking his head to peek into the near-empty bag of chips.  He rummages around for the last few salty snacks.  “It was pretty awkward,” 

(y/n) nods her head, finding a sudden interest in the tiled floor.  She thinks if she looks at him while her mind is warped with the thought of kissing him, she might just faint.

“We’re good, right?” He asks, noticing the way she was starting to dodge him.

“Yeah” (y/n) says, giving him a brief smile before putting her attention towards making another drink.  She’s debating on asking him what he’s sorry for, why it is he feels the need to apologize.  Her vision blurs as her focus is interrupted.  She’s staring into the cup of ice she’d gathered for herself.

Megumi raises a brow as she watches her stand at the counter, staring down at the ice.  He can’t tell if she’s lost in thought or if her buzz was getting on top of her a bit.  Either way, it was concerning.

He drops the bag on the counter, before reaching his arm out and setting his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” He calls, and waits until she looks up at him.  His eyes flicker over her features quickly, trying to determine if she was too out of it, and needed to turn in for the night.  He can’t tell.  “Are you good?” 

(y/n) gives him a small nod, before letting out a slow exhale.  She may as well ask, she figures even if bringing up the subject makes it even weirder, they could both sleep it off, and never bring it up again.

“Weird question,” She turns to him, and Megumi drops his hand.  Her mouth opens and closes a few times while she works up the courage to speak her mind.  “Am I vegetables?” 

With furrowed brows, Megumi huffs out a laugh, finding delight in the bizarre question.

“Vegetables?” He repeats, staring at her in the hopes she’d provide more context.

(y/n) cringes, and tries to backtrack while her face grows hot.

“I- I don’t know… do you think kissing me would be awful?”

The question hangs in the air as Megumi’s eyes widen, properly frozen.

Awful? That word in particular plays in his head on a loop.  When he realizes he’s been silent for too long, he shakes his head as if it could erase the word like an etch-a-sketch.

“Sorry, I guess I just got curious,” (y/n) goes back to mixing her drink.  “You seemed… upset… earlier” 

“Well, yeah,” He breathed out.  “Felt pretty personal, why wouldn’t I be upset?” 

(y/n) didn’t say anything, just grabbed a straw and swirled it around in her cup to properly mix the rum and coke.  He watches her carefully, trying to wrap his mind around her nervous intrigue.  Why was she asking this? What was this about?

“You’ve never thought about it?” She asks, looking up at him now, as much as it made butterflies flutter in her stomach, she wanted to gauge his reaction.

Currently, he looked perplexed, as though her question completely ripped the rug out from under him.

“Thought about it?” He’s repeating her words again, totally lost.

“Yeah,” (y/n) nods her eyes growing wide as she stares up at him.  

Just as he tries to get himself to stop holding his breath, she’s stepping forward, close enough he has to crane his neck to meet her gaze.  His lips are pressed together tightly as his eyes widen completely.  He doesn’t blink as he stares down at her.

“You’ve never thought about us? Kissing?” 

Her words are a little awkward, which he chalks up to her inebriated state, but her question is clearer now.  He can’t doubt what she means by it.

“N-no! Of course not!” 

He laughs off his anxiety, hoping that it helps him to come across as nonchalant as he can.

(y/n) blinks, a furrow forming in her brow as she takes a small step back.  There’s a flicker of emotion in her expression, but Megumi can’t quite place what it is.

In all the time he’s known her, he can’t remember a time she’s looked at him like… this.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Maki’s getting to you,” He doesn’t know what he’s trying to fix, but he knows he’s got to find the right thing to say and quick, because she’s deflating in front of him.

What was this? Annoyance? 

“She probably heard us betting on her and Nobara and wanted to get under your skin” He explains away the tension from earlier, although he doesn’t have any clue how to explain the current tension.

(y/n) doesn’t say anything.  She picks up her cup, eyeing the half-melted ice with a frown.  But it wasn’t due to her watered down drink.

The way she’s starting to shut him out has something nagging in Megumi’s chest.  What had he said? His brows pinched together as he watched her shoulders sink.

“(y/n)-?” 

“You’re right,” She turns to him suddenly, with a smile he can see right through.  “It’s ridiculous” 

His lips part, but he can’t think of something to say before she’s walking out of the kitchen with her drink in hand.  

Megumi could be dense, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He knew he messed up.  (y/n) wouldn’t walk away from him if she wasn’t upset, and he knew he’d really upset her.

But she was upset… because he’d thought the notion of them kissing was ridiculous? 

His heart stuttered in his chest, and he looked down at himself at the peculiar sensation, as if he would be able to see the organ pumping through his shirt.

Had he… royally fucked up?  ___

(y/n) had watched the game of quarters turn everyone into sloppy drunks until their little get together finally began to die.  Panda was passed out on the floor, Yuuta and Toge were fighting for space on the couch, and (y/n) was pretty sure she saw Nobara hastily dragging Maki off down the hall towards her room.

You owe me a twenty, ‘gumi, she thinks with a fond smile as she hears the girls’ giggling die down the further they left.

“Hey,” 

She jumped at the sound of a voice behind her, but relaxed to find it was only Yuji.  He smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry about truth or dare,” He tells her, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck.  “I mean, I figured that was gonna happen, but, sorry if it made things weird between you guys,” 

(y/n) looked away, her eyes landing on the couch, where a fussing Toge as he tried to get comfortable against Yuuta’s shoulder.  Yuuta was dead asleep, neck craned over the back of the couch cushion with his mouth hanging open.  Toge eventually huffed and slumped down, fatigue winning over comfort as his limbs hung awkwardly over the rest of the sofa.

“But to be honest,” Yuji chuckled through his words.  “I didn’t think it’d be a big deal! I thought you guys have been hooking up this whole time”

That had (y/n’s) attention snapping back to him.  Her eyes were round with surprise, assuming at first that Yuji was just messing with her.  But the smile on his face was genuine, and he shrugged at her like he really was sorry for the awkwardness.

“Why?” She mumbled out the question.

“Why what?” Yuji repeated.

“Why did you think we were hooking up?” She clarified, smacking his arm to get him to focus.

“I dunno.  You’re really close, I guess.  You stare at each other a lot, and he doesn’t hit you when you call him ‘gumi,” 

(y/n’s) brows crinkled as Yuji seemed to have a never ending list of good reasons for his assumption.

“When you fall asleep during movie night, he always covers you in a blanket.  And he always sits next to you.  Last time I tried to sit next to him he said he wanted space, and to sit on the side with Nobara.  Then you showed up and he moved right over so you could sit next to him,” 

If her eyes weren’t already popping out of her head, (y/n) was certain they were about to.  Every word Yuji spoke, she committed to memory, even in her hazy mind, she tucked each one away like precious treasures, gifts.  

“Yeah I figured friends that close must’ve toed the line-” 

“Tell me more,” Darting forward, her hands curling around Yuji’s arm, startling him, but he relaxes when he sees the look on her face.

Adoration, excitement, Yuji notes.

“What else?” 

He stammers, not meaning to hesitate, but her sudden curiosity caught him off guard, and it took him a moment to catch up and recall more instances of Megumi’s special treatment for (y/n).

“I- I mean I don’t know what there is to tell that you don’t already know,” He laughs nervously.  “Honest, I thought you already did,” 

Still, she presses forward, her eyes pleading with him silently.

“He pretty much only laughs at your jokes,” He scrambles to think of more examples.  “He requests you as his partner all the time- even when it hurts my feelings- and- hm, I guess he talks about you a lot too.  You always come up in conversation somehow, now that I think about it.  I think that-” 

“Thanks Yuji,” (y/n) cuts him off with a bright smile, and squeezes his arm before she lets go of it.  “I really appreciate it!” 

She’s turning around and taking off before Yuji can say anything, or even understand what service he’d provided that seemed to make her so elated.  Had she really not known how much Megumi cared for her? She treated him the same, so how could she be blind towards it? 

It was true, (y/n) hadn’t known any of these things, and maybe she had been a little dense, and maybe her feelings were a little hurt in the kitchen earlier.  But at least she had the comfort of knowing however complicated her feelings were for him, at least now she knew that Megumi did care about her, deeply so, apparently.

And whether or not that would come to break her heart, he was unshakable, and he would be the one who eases her mind through it all.

As she made her way back to her room, that fact really settled in her mind, and eased her heart.  The question of how Megumi really felt about her could be answered another time.  She was comforted now.

“Wait, (y/n)!”

She’s just about to reach for her door when her name is hollered down the hall.  Despite the sudden noise jolting through her ears in an otherwise silent corridor, she doesn’t jump or flinch as she turns to see Megumi half-jogging towards her.

She gives him a warm, drunken smile as he approaches, turning away from her door.  He approaches her in an instant, practically towering over her, but his closeness doesn’t render her shy, this time.  His piercing gaze doesn’t make her want to look away.  She stands before him happily, proudly, and she looks at him with the same sentiment in her eyes.

Truthfully, Megumi had a speech.  A long string of words that he’d replayed in his head for the last half hour.  All the right words, too.  This time he’d say what he really meant, what was really on his mind, even if his thoughts and feelings weren’t shared, he was going to be honest with her.

But now he’s standing before her and she’s looking up at him expectantly, and all thoughts fly right out the window.  She’s knocked the air out of his lungs and the words out of his head.  This wasn’t a new occurrence.

“Of course I’ve thought about it,” Is what he says instead of what he’d prepared.

She blinks, and he can’t tell if she understands that he’s referring to their last conversation, so now he’s stammering as much as his heart is in his chest but he doesn’t care.

“I’ve thought about kissing you everyday for the last- for however long I’ve known you for,” He’s talking faster than she’s ever heard him before, but she catches the important bits.  “Honestly I don’t think I’ve been able to stop thinking about kissing you-”

Before he can continue rambling, she’s talking over him.  She’s quieter than him, having had the wind knocked out of her from his sudden confession, but as soon as she speaks he’s clamping his mouth shut, eager to finally know her response.

“Well do it then” 

It’s so soft even a whisper would have yelled over her, and she thinks she might have to repeat herself, when Megumi’s surging forward.

His movements are fast, like he’s racing against time.  But despite his rush, his hands are gentle as they slide over her jaw, thumb briefly stroking her skin- a feeling he’d wanted to indulge himself in for as long as he could remember, since before he could even understand why, he’s wanted to smooth his hands over her rosy cheeks, always wondering if they felt as warm as they looked.  They were.

She’s just as fast to close the distance between them.  She’s a bit wobbly as she stands on the tips of her toes, but she has her arms around his neck to keep her steady, and even as she’s practically falling into him, he has a hold on her that she knows won’t waver.

And then his lips are slotting over hers.

It’s a hurried kiss, full of long-awaited desperation, and longing.  Megumi kiss is certain, as if he’s always known just how to kiss her.  His kiss is passionate, the taste of rum and grenadine ever so present on her lips is nothing short of addictive, and his desire to kiss them until the flavor takes over his tongue burns hot.

She’s shooting forward, trying to get impossibly closer to him, hoping that tangling her hands into his hair will do the trick.  For a short moment, it’s close enough, but soon she’s too settled and is pushing closer again.  Megumi has to drop his hands to her hips to keep her from knocking both of them off balance.  He grips them firmly, his fingers splayed out as far they can, desperate to touch as much as they can.

Even as they’re pulling away, panting, a few more kisses are stolen as they do.

Swollen lips are the first thing he notices.  And soon after it’s hooded eyes as she stared up at him under heavy lashes.  Her eyes are still a little red, and Megumi thinks it might just be his new favorite time to stare into them.  That might just be because of the weed in his system, too.

And then she’s giggling.  Cheery and sweet, the sound makes his head foggier.  His lips curl into a lazy smile as his hands cradle her face again.

Her face mirrors his, eyes crinkling at their corners so much he blurs before her.  She doesn’t care.  She couldn’t contain her happiness if she tried.  But why would she?

“Every day, huh?” She asks, a fit of giggles erupting from her chest as she watches Megumi fluster, the rush of adrenaline finally beginning to subside.  His face warms and his fingers twitch on her hips, just a little, but his grip tightens enough for her to notice.

“Somethin’ like that” He mumbles, and (y/n) finds it cute that he’s growing bashful now.

“So… you wanna hang out?” She asks, her fond smile turning into a bright grin as she nods her head back towards her door.  Megumi follows the motion, as though forgetting they were still in the hallway.

His eyes light up when he looks back at her again, nodding his head as he uses one hand to slide her door open, before pushing her backwards into the room.

“Somethin’ like that” He repeats in a lower voice, reaching behind himself to slide the door shut again. ___

a/n: aaaand now i wanna write a spin the bottle fic for yuuta :) party games mini series coming right up lmfao

xoxo ~ jordie

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 22

Prompt: Intercrural (Thighs) Pairing: exboyfriend!Yunho x fem!reader   WC: 1.4k Summary: It’s not cheating. He swears it’s not cheating. Neither of you are cheating. And he’s an expert. This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Yunho or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy. Additional TW/CW below the cut.

TW/CW: DUBIOUS CONSENT (reader doesn’t say yes but also doesn’t say no). Cheating, bodily fluids, dry humping, wet humping, gets real close to “just the tip” territory. no penetration. cumming in underwear. reader is called “princess” and “babe”. yunho is kinda a shitty person in this.

Once a cheater always a cheater.

 Yunho finds you in the kitchen. It’s an old habit. An old habit he’s willing to exploit. Scrubbing away at the pile of dishes you don’t even look up, the rushing faucet and din from the living room covering his footsteps. The second you were overwhelmed you’d retreat here, a safe place to hide while your boyfriend entertained the guests. Mostly his guests. Not your guests, Yunho makes the careful distinction to himself. You’d even do this at your friend houses if you needed.  “Princess,” he whispers low in your ear.  Silverware clatters against the metal basin as you drop it, spinning, back flat to the tile. A team scores in the background, whoops and hollers covering the lesser chaos in the sink.  “Yunho, you can’t be here, with me, like that.” You lean back and away, nearly toppling into the running water.

 “He hasn’t complimented you enough tonight, Princess,” Yunho’s hushed tone is silky smooth, leaving a trail of goosebumps down your arms. “Not enough for me, anyway. Has he even said anything tonight after all the time you spent getting his little party ready? I know he didn’t do it. He’s not the finger food type, more of a pizza and beer kind of man.”  “No-” you stutter and sigh. The excuses fight over themselves on your tongue, unwilling to be the first to be lamely bleated out from your fumbling lips.  “Someone should say it then.”  You turn your back to him to hide your expression. Yunho knew you too well. You couldn’t look him in the eyes when he pulled this sort of thing. This toxic messy game he liked to play, that you indulged in masochistically. As if your relationship had ever been anything but messy. That’s how you knew the second he started on his promises if you looked him in the eyes it would be all over for you.

 Two long arms wrap around your middle, large hands holding your hips ever so slightly. Your back is buffeted by a fuzzy sweater and wide shoulders. “You can’t do that here!” Your hushed exclamation protests too hard to be real. You were never a good actress.  “Only here?”  “Yunho! I’m-if people see they might think-”  “That you’re cheating? But I’m just helping you with the dishes,” you can almost hear the cheeky grin in his tone as he grinds into the cleft of your ass. “Come on Princess, you know how much I love helping.”  The fabric of your skirt starts hitching higher and higher, exposing the tops of your gartered thigh high stockings. The bulge in his pants bumps against you, still as large as you remember.  A zip, a singular telltale zip. Another cheer from the living room.  “Are you going to fuck me?” You ask half hoping, half dreading.  “That’d be cheating, Princess. As you said you’re spoken for again, for now.” His length brushes against the ridges of your lace panties, the tug of fabric tingling your clit. “And you wouldn’t want to cheat would you? You’re a good girl.”  “You would.”  The puff of air that escapes his nostrils tickles the back of your ear. You squirm. “You’re right. I would.” Yunho replies. Goosebumps cover your arms, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. You bite the insides of your cheeks as you feel him slip between the soft tops of your inner thighs. The tip of his cock pokes out of the other side of your thighs, cool air contrasting with the heat of your body. Your thighs grow more slick as the leaking precum smears between them, lubricating each drag.

 The water still runs into the sink, thundering louder than your heart.  “I can’t,” you whisper meakly, more to yourself than to him. Knees knocking into eachother the tops of your thighs press into the cupboard doors. Your cunt throbs shamelessly in your panties, slowly soaking through the fabric. The slight bunching of the lace pulling up into your slit only serves to frustrate you.  Yunho curls over you, hot breath fanning over your collarbone as his chin rests on your shoulder. “You really think he’ll care about this matching set you’ve put on? Will he even look at you long enough to notice it? No. I bet he fucks you blindly without a single fucking thought in that empty skull of his.” The snear in his voice is unmistakable. Long fingers pull your panties down just enough to wrap around him, holding him close to your slit as he continues to grind against you. Finally he’s close enough to brush against your clit occasionally with a well angled thrust. “Bet he wouldn’t even notice if your panties were full of cum already.”  “Yuyu,” voice airy and distant, you push your ass back into him. It’s to push him away, you try to rationalize, It’s to give yourself some space. It’s definitely not to encourage him. It’s not to better angle yourself to align with him. “I’m not a cheater.”  Another cheer from the living room goes unnoticed by the both of you.  “Not if it doesn’t go in, Princess.” Yunho chuckles low in his throat. “And you wouldn’t want to ruin that good girl image would you? Not with a guy like me. No matter how much your princess parts might ache for it.”  His mock sympathy has you biting back moans. Knuckles white as you grip the edge of the sink harder, slipping on the metal. Large hands holding you in place as he uses you, sandwiched between your puffy slick heat and the cool damp lace of your underwear. The ridges and veins of his shaft tease your oversensitive pussy. He’s right, it’s been too long since someone else made you cum. Burning need courses in your blood, boiling your insides.

 The tip catches dangerously on your entrance, both of you gasping as he threatens to breach that tiny caveat he’d established. Part of you wishes he would. You want him to press forward, bully his cock that much farther in. Fill you like he used to. Damn the consequences, damn you.  His knowing chuckle, warm breath fanning over your ear, jolts you from your wild fantasy. Yunho knows. He knows he never really could leave you. Hips circling with yours, you’re on the precipice of something neither of you can take back. Or maybe it was already too late. Your heart thuds and head spins. For a second you consider doing it yourself as he leaks a steady stream of precum into your eager walls. Your hips even test it, backing slightly farther against him, the tense ring of muscle flexing just enough to prevent a larger mistake than you were already making.  “I wonder if you still feel like me or if he’s managed to take that from me too.”  You half expect him to end with a long smooth thrust into your walls, stretching you around him while the water in the sink runs cold. Instead he slips down again, hands squeezing your thighs tighter as he chases his high. Its just enough stimulation to tease you, have you hot from more than just the steamy water. The cover of dishes long forgotten you brace yourself on the sink. Hell would be cooler than this. His pace accelerates as his fingers find your clit through the soaked fabric of your underwear. Sticking to you he circles and circles as your thighs clench.   “Can you feel what you do to me princess? Take some responsibility.”  “Fuck you.”   Your breath catches on the last word, cumming quietly as he presses both of your hips into the side of the counter. Shame floods your face as you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck. It’s not enough to leave a mark but enough to leave a mental impression. An invisible white hot brand burned into the nape of your neck.   Yunho mouths wet open kisses in the same spot as hot sticky cum spills into your underwear, coating the outside of your sex and leaking into the inside of your skirt. Panting, his breath catches with each refractory twitch of his cock. The insides of your thighs clean him as he pulls from you, tucking back into his pants as if nothing had happened.  “BABE! HUN? BEER ME.”  “I gotchu bro,” Yunho yells back, nonchalantly popping the cap off a bottle on the counter. You can barely look him in the face as he turns to leave the kitchen with a wink.

Good god i like writing yunho as actual trash. i feel like the hotter and nicer the guy is as an idol the more i just want to write the polar opposite for them.

I’ve made this into more of a series here:

cheater!yunhoverse:  [9:42PM] | kinktober | [12:39AM] | [10:45PM] if you liked this and wanna see this just get worse and worse....yeah there is the order.

a related ask as well here

[punkslovepoints]

✨2024 Steddie Fic Recommendations

template from Steddie Support Podcast on twitter

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Two men walk into a gay bar. One thinks he’s straight, one thinks he’s vanilla. Both of them are idiots.

Steve & Robin by @audacityofbird [120k M]

It's 1995. Two sets of best friends find themselves in Chicago and in each other's orbit as they try to figure out how to best navigate the world, work, relationships, family, and friendships in their mid-twenties. Chrissy is starting a new job in a new city with only an old friend to help tether her. Eddie tries to help his band find their big break. Steve tries to get his matchmaking family off his back and Robin hatches a plan to help him do that in an unconventional and seemingly logical way. They're all finding themselves and their way to each other. So, who cares if they stumble along the way? At least they have each other.

Don't Hate The Player by orphan_account [6k M]

Steve Harrington doesn't really play video games. Not his thing. Somehow, however, he's ended up in an utterly delusional, one-sided relationship with an NPC.

The Fire And The Flood by @entanglednow [6k E]

Steve's already spent half a day dealing with the kids misbehaving, he really doesn't need Eddie making his life harder.

would you be my friend? by @their-we-go [8k M]

"Honourable Justice Harrington, I have perjured myself on this stand today, and I would like to recant.”"Honourable Justice Harrington, I have perjured myself on this stand today, and I would like to recant.” “Dude, what are you—” “I lied, man. I fibbed. I told a story. I—” “Alright, okay. I get it.” “I don’t read, uh. Gay porn for the articles.” “Okay.” “I more read it for the, you know.” He scrubs a hand over his face. Wishes he could hide. “Gay porn.” (Or: scenes from Eddie's life after the world doesn't end.)

let's exchange the experience by @jamiethegardener55 [22k E]

"I propose a game," Eddie announced. Steve zipped his coat back up, wincing. "I'm not playing your dungeon game." "Not," Eddie said, "a tabletop game, thank you, Steven. A challenge. A bet." He felt his eyes gleam. Steve gave him a wary look. "What kind of challenge?" "I," Eddie said, clapping his palms together, "will be Steve Harrington. For a whoooole day. And you will be Eddie Munson." -- Eddie and Steve play a game. They have to do whatever the other says for the day. Neither of them has ever heard of BDSM. Things go really well.

Big wheel keep on turning by prufrocks [28k E]

A few months after Starcourt, Steve moves out of his parents' house and into a friend of a friend's empty RV. What follows is a long six months of unintentional minimalism, scraping by on two bucks an hour, and staring at the specter that haunts the other side of the trailer park. Meanwhile, Robin gets a song stuck in her head. A season four rewrite.

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

Then mine from this year:

Pebble [5.4k words, Rated: T]

“Right, well when the male finds a female penguin he likes, he brings her a pebble. It shows the female that he wants to build a nest with her, that he wants to have her as a mate. So I thought -” Steve raised an eyebrow, “You want me to be your mate?”

flood water (a series) [17k words, Rated: E]

“Nothing says last day on earth like trying to fuck your straight friend before disappearing the next day.” Eddie skips town a month after he gets out of the hospital.

how to wake a dead boy (with art work by @bleedingoptimism) [33.4k words, Rated: M]

Steve’s been able to bring dead people back to life since he was a child. It’s a secret he’s managed to keep from everyone, hiding his power under a layer of detachment from the world around him. Then Eddie dies and Steve has a decision to make. A Stranger Things canon-compliant story based on Pushing Daisies lore.

Queer Lodgings [WIP, Rated: E]

After almost dying in the Upside Down, Eddie wakes to a high school diploma, a place at community college, and - yet another surprise in this new sunshine and rainbows existence that is somehow his life - Steve Harrington as a roommate. It's a double bi awakening!

[55sturn]

✮ BEEN AWAY

pairing: chris sturniolo × female!reader

synopsis: in which y/n grows tired of chris constantly being whisked away on business trips and taken to fancy parties every weekend, she knows it’s part of the job but it’s taking a heavy toll on their relationship and she can’t take anymore.

warnings: swearing, chris is stressed and kind of a dick, mentions of parties, implied sex, i lowkey shit on laura in this sorry not sorry, angst angst angst, oh and more angst!

important notes pt 2: purple text blocks are the lyrics that each part are based off of. during the text section, orange text is chris, and pink text is the reader!

THIRD PERSON POV

“I KNOW I BEEN AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT GIRL.”

chris sighed as his phone pinged with another text from his girlfriend, with every imessage ping, his heart clenched tighter in his chest.

his trips, more so the business trips that laura and the rest of the triplets’ networking and public relations team were taking them on had begun to cause a massive strain on his relationship with y/n.

he would bring her along when he could but laura, his manager was adamant that these trips were meant for the triplets to build their network, so that their brands, the collective one all three shared and their own personal brands could grow and flourish. laura felt that the triplets’ personal relationships had no place in their professional lives and often made a point to exclude their significant others and relationships when planning their trips and events.

so when a trip or event was labelled as something to do with networking, it meant that y/n couldn’t tag along. and most of the time, at these events, the triplets were meant to paint their faces with effortlessly charming smiles and flirt with anyone they could, to gain a good rep.

and while y/n know what those networking trips and events entailed, her knowledge didn’t ease the loneliness and heartache she felt when she’d open up her phone to see backstage footage of the events. her heart would drop as girls would attach themselves to chris, flirting and hanging onto his every word, watching as he’d give the same flirty smile back to them.

y/n sighed tapping cautiously through private snap stories of some influencer party that was taking place, all of the most popular influencers making an appearance and posting about it, per their managers’ requests. as she paused in the middle of larray’s story, she saw chris in the corner, clear as day, talking to some pretty little blonde thing whose hand was on his bicep. rolling her eyes, she opened her texts with her boyfriend.

START OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

Y/N: when are you coming home? i’m tired and i can’t sleep without you

Y/N: chris???

CHRIS: i know i’ve been gone a while ma

CHRIS: i’ll be home soon, just gotta make a couple more rounds and reach out to ppl and offer to collab

Y/N: you say that every time chris

Y/N: and then you don’t come home until 3 or 4

Y/N: i’m sick of it chris i’m done

CHRIS: come on ma you don’t mean that

Y/N: whatever just be quiet when you get home i’m sleeping on the couch

CHRIS: ma come on, i’ll be home soon

*read 12:31 AM*

END OF TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

“THEY JUST WANNA FUCK WITH YOU, CAUSE THEY KNOW I FUCK WITH YOU.”

chris sighed as countless articles flood his screen, random female influencers claiming to be in some sort of lowkey relationship with him, random male influencers trying to get at his girl.

he knew it was only because he had finally announced that he and y/n were together. she had her own fanbase prior to be connected to the triplets and it only grew, but the growth came with overly possessive and protective supporters. and it became like that for chris as well. in theory the over and slightly intense protectiveness was endearing, to an extent.

but the fans created these rumours and let them swirl as a way to try and debunk the announcement of chris and y/n’s relationship, almost as if their respective fans were gatekeeping the two.

“do we say something? should we say something?” y/n mumbled, her face tucked into chris’ chest as they talked about the things metaphorically floating around online.

“no.”

“why not?” y/n piped up, her tone almost defensive and accusatory as she pulled away from his chest, her eyes boring into his.

“they’re only doing it because it’s confirmed that we’re fucking with each other. they wanna mess with us, get under our skin, and cause a rift so that we break up so they can try and swoop in. it’s better to pay those rumours no mind.” chris spoke, his hand rubbing up and down her thigh, squeezing lovingly as his hand reached her hip, letting her know that it was okay.

y/n sat up for a moment, letting his words sink in before nodding and laying back down in her previous position, knowing that she had to trust chris.

“IF I PUT MY TRUST IN YOU, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? WOULD YOU JUST STEP OUT? WOULD YOU THUG IT OUT?”

“i need you to trust me y/n! can you do that? can you please just trust me or do you want out of this relationship?” chris yelled, pacing his room as yet another fight broke out between the couple, rumours of chris cheating had been rampant for the last few weeks and it was getting harder for y/n to decipher what was true and what was false.

“i don’t know chris! every day it’s something new about you and some other chick and it’s getting to me! it’s hard to see what’s fake and what’s real right now when the whole online world is against us being together!”

“why are you paying attention to what’s being said online when i am right here telling you myself what’s true and what’s fake?” he yelled back, running his hands through his hair as she cried on his bed.

“chris you literally have to flirt with girls at those parties, what’s stopping it from becoming something real?”

“i don’t know, maybe the fact that i’m with you and not them?”

“chris we met just like that, at some stupid fucking social media party!” she spat, climbing off his bed and grabbing her jacket as he scoffed.

“so you think that just because you and i met that way, it means that i’ll throw away a relationship that means the world to me?” he seethed, laughing dryly as she rolled her eyes.

“no i think that you’ll throw it away because it doesn’t actually mean the world to you.”

“the fuck does that mean, y/n?”

“actions speak louder than words, chris, and you haven’t done a whole lot to show me what i mean to you.” she whispered, grabbing the rest of her things that had been scattered around his room as he shook his head.

“where are you going?”

“i need some space to think chris, we’re not over, but i need to spend a couple nights alone at my place, to calm down and collect myself. you should do the same.” she spoke, her voice small and uneven as she quickly made her exit, leaving chris to think to himself as he flopped down against his mattress.

“DON’T GIVE MY SHIT AWAY, I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT, GIRL.”

“c’mon y/n, can’t you just store it somewhere?” chris groaned, trying to focus on the email he was typing up while on facetime with his now ex-girlfriend, y/n who sat on the floor in her apartment, going through a pile of chris’ clothes and other shit that she had rounded up.

“chris i don’t want your shit in my apartment, it hurts to look at it.”

“well whose fault is that?”

“i couldn’t handle it chris, you know that.”

“i know ma, i’m sorry, i’m just stressed and trying to get this email to some fuckin’ company out and i-i can’t do it while you’re sitting on call trying to hide your tears while you’re going through my shit because i prioritized my job over our relationship.” chris whispered, his voice cracked slightly as he looked back at her, watching as she wiped her tears.

“it just hurts so much chris, we should’ve been able to make it through. our love should’ve been strong enough.”

“it’ll be strong enough one day, i just gotta-“

“get through this part of your job, i know chris.”

“so please don’t give away my shit. just store it somewhere until you and i can make it through, okay?”

“okay.”

“THIS PENTHOUSE VIEW AIN’T AS BEAUTIFUL AS YOU. DON’T EVER HAVE TIME, BUT I CAN MAKE TIME FOR YOU.”

chris anxiously bounced his leg as he waited for y/n to arrive, he had flown her out to the city he was in for work, and as timid as she was about showing up, she pushed herself to go. she missed him, his smell, his smile, his touch. god missed his hands in hers as they tangled themselves up in the sheets. so instead of being stubborn, she boarded that plane and made her way to chicago.

she stood outside the penthouse hotel room that chris and matt had booked, she felt her stomach turn, she was going to see him again, and god she needed this. with a raised but shaky fist, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

chris and y/n had spent a few hours exploring the city, visiting all the touristy spots that she had been dreaming of seeing for years. once they got back, they both took a hot, steamy shower, and spent their time reminding each other how much they loved one another.

“the view is gorgeous.” y/n whispered, her hair and face tucked into one of chris’ hoodies over a pair of lace panties that left little to the imagination as chris’ arms were wrapped around her waist with his chin tucked into the space between her jaw and shoulder.

“so i talked to laura, told her that i’ll be booking my own networking appointments and trips from now on, i’ll run them by her of course but i told her i’m making my schedule now. and that you’ll be my plus one to every single event, on every trip. you’ll be a part of everything.”

“chris, what?”

“i don’t have much time myself but i made a promise to you and to myself while you were in the flight here, that i will be making time for you. you come before my job from now on.”

“is that why you flew me out here?”

“yeah. you’re my girl and you deserve my time and attention. i’m so sorry i ever made you feel like you didn’t. i love you, ma. you’re more important than flashy trips and parties.”

“i love you chris.” y/n cried, as she turned in his arms and pressing affirm but loving kiss to his lips.

“i got my paper straight ma, it’s our time now.”

taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @verosivy

© 55STURN 2023 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[nothorses]

Hi so I’m a nonbinary lesbian and have been out for well over 6 years. My gender expression has changed a lot over the years and now I’m just. A bit lost. I want to experiment more with masculinity again but I’ve kind of forgotten how to? I’m in a bit of a weird spot where most people around me aren’t trans (except for my roommates) but are of the (very good!) idea that “clothes and attributes aren’t gendered” and dress sort of unisex in as cheap second hand clothes as possible. Some guys have long hair or wear makeup to parties and some women don’t shave etc. But I still feel like most people view me as a woman or woman-lite because even though they’re well meaning and progressive, they’re not really well-educated about transness. And I’m in a long term lesbian relationship and have a lot of hobbies that are more traditionally feminine. My pronouns are they/she but most people use she/her exclusively. I’m starting to feel more and more dysphoric about this after a few years of no dysphoria, but I don’t know how to change things. So yeah do you have any tips on doing masculinity? Or experimenting more with combining gender expressions? I wish I could start t but the trans healthcare in my country is terrible.

ngl a lot of that is so familiar to me- especially the pronouns! It's been a long time since I started to lean more into masculinity from the kind of "I'm not a yucky man lol that would be unfeminist" purgatory I was trapped in pre-transition but post-realizing-i-was-trans-in-some-way (which isn't to imply that's where you're at, that was just my personal journey) but I definitely feel like I resonate with a lot of what you're describing from, like, that specific period in my life.

I think drawing harder lines around how I wanted people to refer to me helped a lot with this, early on. I know a ton of people who have pronouns they use with trans friends that are different from the pronouns they let cis people use; she/they for the people they know will make the effort to use both, but they/them or she/her exclusively for the people they know are unlikely to use those pronouns if they have an alternative. This works with other language as well- but that's all to your personal comfort level!

Outside of that, I think step 1 is really just thinking about what masculinity means to you, and what kinds of masculinity you're interested in or intrigued by. Don't worry too much about figuring out exactly what you want right away- just experiment with whatever seems like it might be fun or comfortable. Think clothes, hair, mannerisms, roles, hobbies and interests; anything you might have denied or been denied because of gendered expectations. There's no one singular way to Do Masculinity, and the goal isn't to start out with a single perfect, consistent way of presenting yourself to the world. You're just playing with things you haven't had permission to play with before!

I also have a lot of "feminine interests", and a big thing for me has been finding masculine role models within those things. In my area it's mostly women who are into horses, and I was the only man on the horseback riding team at my school when I transitioned; but cowboys are totally a thing, and I started leaning into that role pretty early on! We also ended up getting another guy on the team, I think partially because he saw there was at least one other & he wouldn't be the only man there, which was cool (he latched onto me hard, too. it was very funny to me when I mentioned being trans & he apparently had very much not realized that before. I got to watch his worldview shift in real time, lmao)

That one was probably the easiest, though. I've also looked to really positive, loving male teachers in my work in education, and that's been awesome! Sewing & embroidery have been the hardest by far, but I've definitely found plenty of men in both over time. Finding embroidery patterns to try out from gay men depicting masculine-presenting bodies has been especially fun & validating.

I know this isn't the most specific advice, and I'm not sure if you were looking for like, a list of clothes to buy? But honestly this has just been my own journey. I wear what's comfortable and I haven't really changed my interests or hobbies; exploring masculinity has really just meant giving myself permission to engage in things I haven't before, wearing things I feel good in, and looking to others who've given themselves that permission as well for inspiration. I had to be more intentional about considering the masculine-to-me options early on than I do now, but like, it should all be about you and what you're interested in. There are infinite types of guy! I think it's just a matter of figuring out which ones you resonate with and why, and building your own type of guy out of that.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

I absolutely loved the Emily and Charlie ideas you wrote so I was hoping to request another Charlie x male reader with some smut (but not the main focus). Idea being everyone going out for an evening with Charlie staying at the hotel to work, secretly wanting some company but telling everyone to have fun anyway. Reader didn't go out and found her later in the evening (maybe can tell how she's feeling) so offers some company/someone to cuddle. The main smut I'd like to include would be her leaving some scratch or kiss marks and her being quite touchy/hands on.

I’m so glad you enjoyed the others teehee i tried my best with this so i hope you enjoy it but im not too happy with how it turned out tbh, idk why, i guess it could be because i didn’t feel like during the smut scenes i did charlie justice, lmk what you think.

Charlie x male!reader

After Party

warnings: creampie, biting, scratching, kinda rushed smut, angsty charlie, possibly ooc charlie but i can’t tell, charlie n vaggie are friends, im not sure if there’s anything else, oh swearing, NOT PROOFREAD beware of errors.

word count: 2K

Charlie was tired. Between her father disbelieving in her, Alastor picking a fight with him, the failed meeting with Adam, and finding out Vaggie was an angel? She was over and exhausted. She tried to keep up her mood but she just couldn’t stop the spiralling thought process of handling everything on her own. It seemed like every step forward she had to take four steps back, nobody believed or respected her.

“Cmon, we needa little par-tay.” Angel whined pushing himself over the back of the couch dramatically. Charlie hummed, barely listening as the crowd of sinners lingered in the little living room-like area. “We don’t need anymore fuckin parties, spider.” Husk muttered before taking a big swig of his drink. “I don’t know, I think a little bit of recreational activity could really brighten the spirits!” Alastor exclaimed, and as much as Charlie would like to join the fun, if she didn’t finish up the work she had she knew it would only stress her out further, but she knew the others worked hard too and deserved a little treat.

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out some cash and beckoned over Alastor. “Here, why don’t you take everyone out to relax?” She said softly, despite her desire for company and hope that one of the few would stay back to assist. “Aren’tcha comin’ toots?” Angel who jumped up the moment Charlie pulled out money asked, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. “Oh no, i’ve got sooo much to do here, you guys go on without me! Bond a little!” She smiled as brightly as she could, although anyone with a keen eye could tell it was forced. In the back of her mind she was hoping for more punch back, more of her friends to beg her to come out with them, but instead they shrugged her off and left rather quickly.

Sighing Charlie rung her hands together and walked up the stairs slowly, vacant and alone, the hotel now seemed so eerie. She made her way to an office one that had been used by the whole team she had, so herself, Vaggie and Alastor. She plopped herself lazily on the ripped leather office chair, air slowly escaping the cheap foam as she did. Charlie couldn’t help the bitter feelings stirring around in her; she was always happy to help her friends and wanted them to have fun and relax, she just wished maybe they cared a little more about her? It was a confusing sensation, she knew Vaggie cared, but at times she felt more like a personal body guard rather than friend, and Alastor, she knew deep down, didn’t actually care.

Opening her phone she decided to try and ease her mind before sorting out the paperwork she had piling, unfortunately the universe wasn’t kind to her. Opening Sinstagram the first sight she was greeted with was Angels varying posts and stories which included all the crew members piled into a booth enjoying their drink of choice. It made a scorned yucky feeling of jealousy tangle within her stomach. Groaning she pulled open a drawer and stuck her phone in it, slamming it shut after. “It’s better to just work.” The princess mumble pulling the first stack of papers near her; the billing’s for their failed comercial.

After an hour of word Charlie sat back in her seat and messaged her sore neck. Pulling her phone from the drawer she checked the time. 23:48. Having no idea when the others would get back, she shuffled from the office to the second story balcony for some air. “Oh sorry I didn’t know you were here!” Charlie exclaimed, seeing you leant over the balcony railing. Looking over your shoulder you gave the little devil a warm smile. “You can join.” You say beckoning her forward, with a sigh and a forced smile Charlie came up alongside you, mimicking your stance. “What’re you still doing here?” Charlie questioned eyeing you from her peripheral. Your brow quirked and your face turned to confusion, with a quick hum you replied. “Just relaxing..?” The statement came out uncertain and wobbly, but you weren’t quite sure what she meant.

“No, i mean why didn’t you go out with the others?” Your head tilted back as you let out an ‘ah’, now understanding what she meant. “I just, well, this is the only time i get free yknow, always gotta be doing something so it’s nice to be alone, but i also want to have fun with them, but that drains me yknow?” Charlie quickly nodded her head at that completely understanding where you were coming from. “Yeah i know what you mean. I wish somebody stayed back with me.” Nudging yourself lightly into her, she met your eyes with curiosity floating in her own. “Well I stayed back, why don’t we relax together?” You suggest warmly, smiling fondly down at her. Charlie momentarily stuttered, blushing at the way her mind wandered to naughty places.

“Ahem, uh, sure! Yes! Let’s do that!” The princess fumbled, pushing herself away from your hold. You could tell she was flustered as she walked off leading you to whatever part of the hotel she’d choose to relax in, you felt a little voice in the back of your head egging you on to tease her, and who were you to deny your great mind. “Alrighty this it my room! Uhhh, why don’t we watch a movie or something..?” Charlie trailed off leading you into her bedroom.

You took a quick look around enjoying the aesthetic her room held. Charlie kicked her shoes off and pulled her jacket from her shoulders. “You can lounge on the bed if you want, i totally don’t mind!” You grinned and got onto the bed, watching as she frantically ran around “Calm down hun, you look real stressed.” You urged her frantic pacing causing loose hairs to tangle and fly out from her ponytail. “Ugh, i know!” Sighing she finally plopped on the bed beside you and laid back hands folded on her stomach and eyes closed. Leaning over slightly to look down on her, you observed her somewhat relaxed face as you watched her slow her breathing down. Assumably trying to cease the slow crawling panic that was clawing at her. “It may be a little forward but I heard compression and hugs can help stress, you wanna cuddle or some shit?” Your voice came out slightly tight a little unsure of how to go about the request. Charlie’s eyes fluttered opened and blinked toward you, after a moment of silent contemplation Charlie sighed happily opening her arms. With a huff and a smile you scooted down, wrapping your arms around her while laying beside her.

She scooted up into your side, her right hand sliding up your chest and around your shoulder. It sent shivers down your spine, and blood straight to your dick, embarrassingly so. Ignoring the sensation, your hand gently traced shapes into Charlie’s side where your arm was placed. Charlie’s head slowly lifted and shifted from the bed to your chest, tucking herself under your chin. Her hair tickled at your nose and chin, you could smell her shampoo and the perfume she’d used. You tightened your grip subtly, enjoying the warmth she let off, and with a hum she swung one of her legs over your hips, twisting her body entirely against you.

You took a deep breath attempting to calm your heart and the tightening sensation in your pants. Like the devil spawn she is, Charlie began tracing your chest, flattening her palm against your chest and trailing down from your neck, to the hem of your jeans, and back up to your neck again. Taking a deep breath you brought your hand up to you with her hair in attempts to distract you.

“Thanks for this.” She mumbled nuzzling her face further into your chest. You hummed eyes lazily dancing around shapes your eyes made up on the canopy above. “Any time.” You replied after a moment. The two of you laid there silently, softly the two of you let your hands drift across eachother innocently. It wasn’t until charlie’s hand ducted under your shirt to touch your bare chest that the air in the room got thick and heated. Breath hitching you zeroed in on her claws softly scratching down your chest. “Charlie,” You warned as her claw nicked the waistband of your jeans. Charlie knew good and well what she was doing, could you blame her? You’ve always been so attentive to her feelings and emotional state, the first to check on her after a stressful situation and give her the best advice you could.

With sudden need shooting through Charlie she straddled your waist bracing herself against your chest. Your hands reflexively went to her hips, eyes shooting up to meet her own attempting to figure out what the hell she was doing. She traced her claws down your tshirt covered chest, and when she made it to the bottom her hands wiggled underneath the fabric to paw at your warm skin. As she did you traced circles on her hips, and quirked a questioning brow at her. “Whatcha up to princess?” Charlie smiled shyly, trying to hide her face in her shoulder. “I just want to repay you for your kindness towards me.”

Your face twisted with worry, abruptly you sat up, making her gasp and tucked your hands behind her back to keep her from falling. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me,” You quickly say, however Charlie pushed you back down, shushing you as she did. “It’s more then just that, i think you know they though. Let’s relax, desttress.” With that being said, you tossed aside your tshirt while Charlie eagerly undid your pants, hands shaking as she did. Your hands decided not to diddly saddle and undo her pants simultaneously, needing to feel her speedily.

You were already achingly hard, precum dripping down your shaft as Charlie shakily gripped you giving your head a soft squeeze. Pulling her hand away Charlie kicked off the pants that clung underneath her knees, and readied herself against you. You hummed out in pleasure relaxing into the mattress as she sunk down onto you, above you Charlie whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, clenching onto every vein and ridge. It was delectable, she couldn’t understand why she’d never gone for this before. Bottoming out, Charlie’s legs shook, her body would involuntarily convulse every now and again as she attempted to adjust to the size of you. Falling forward unable to keep herself up she sunk her nails into your chest making you groan deeply, bucking your hips up into hers.

Nuzzling herself into your neck as you took the reigns, thrusting up into her at a steady pace, she began to leave teeth marks and hickies along your neck, desperate moans broken out between nips and bites. Your arms encased her pulling her near as you roughly fucked up into her at a brutal pace, her juices dripping down you. Erotic, loud slapping noises were all that you could hear in the room accompanied by Charlie’s whimpers and please. “Fuckkk, yknow how long i’ve waited for this? They don’t know what their missing not staying around someone like you.” You say splaying your fingers through her hair as you do, at this point Charlie’s body laid limp atop your own, your knees up and angled to continue your rapid pace.

“Please,” Charlie begged clenching tightly around you, you huffed out a moan that you attempted to cover and slid your hands down to squeeze her ass. Groaning loudly, you pushed her over, still inside you hovered over her, pulling her legs up over your shoulders to gain new access. With this angle you were able to hit different areas making Charlie squeal. “Oh fuck Charlie,” You groaned as your balls slapped against her ass, finally you felt the band snapping and slowly you filled her with cum, pumping all of what you had inside her. Charlie cried out clenching, and convulsing against you. She tried to inch away screaming your name loudly as she road out her high against you. When the two of you had finished, catching your breaths, you laid beside her, pulling her into your chest.

She rolled her head from one side to face you, her eyes glazed over barely seeming like she was there. “Didja mean what you said about wanting this for so long?” You nodded at her, the softness in her voice was music to your ears and made goosebumps crawl against your skin. “Yeah, since i got here, you’ve had my eye.” Humming softly the princess said nothing, but buried her head in your chest.

[lisacameron99]

Hi! I was wondering if you would be willing to do an imagine for Jason DiLaurentis with the the song dress by Taylor Swift? (possibly smut) Thank you!

I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH!!!

Note: I made the age gap between Jason and the Liars 4 years instead of 6 because it seems less icky. This is also just filthy. I've never done anything like this before so I am so sorry if it's shit.

Warnings : 18+ only

this is filthy. just plain filthy. there is no plot legit just smut. tits, oral (m and f receiving), nipple play, titfuck, blowjob, rough sex, riding, missionary, swearing, kinky shit,

Jason and I had a very interesting dynamic. More than friends, but not in a relationship. And I wanted to make that change.

We were going to a party out at Noel Kahn's cabin. Hanna and I were getting ready together.

"Thank you for going shopping with me to get this dress."

"Girl, I am team Jason and Lily. It’s Jily!” Hanna told me.

I rolled my eyes at Hanna. “Hanna, we are not a thing!” I protested.

“Oh you so are! I bet you don’t make it through the night without fucking each other.”

“Hanna!” I gasped, trying to sound offended. “I would never!” I couldn’t even say it with a straight face before we both busted out laughing.

“Besides,” she came up behind me and grabbed my tits. “We both know he can’t keep his hands off these perfect babies.”

I pushed her hands away, laughing. “Apparently neither can you.”

“Oh baby, you know if we both swung each others way we’d be fucking more than rabbits.”

I laughed. “I love you Hanna, but the only person I’m interested in fucking right now is Jason.”

“And I only want Caleb!”

We made our way to the party, mingling here and there, dancing and drinking, getting drunker and drunker. I made my way to the bar to get another drink, not having a care in the world.

"Well, hey there, you might want to slow your roll there little lady." Jason said, sliding up behind me. I leaned my head back onto his shoulder and sighed when he kissed my neck, hands roaming my stomach.

"Think we both know I'm much more fun when I'm drunk." I pressed back against him, feeling his length against my ass.

"I think we both know we're both hornier when we're drunk."

"Are you finally going to tell everybody that we're more than friends?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow at him.

"They say that patience is a virtue." Jason commented, hands resting under my breasts.

I sighed at the feeling. "I'm tired of being patience. I turned in his arms, mine going around his neck and pulling him down to my lips. He moaned softly when our lips touched, pulling me as close as possible to him, one hand bracing the make shift bar table.

"I wanna fuck you" I mumbled against his lips. My hands were shaking.

"Andy," He whispered against my mouth. I felt my brain stop.

"Please." I begged him. I didn't care that I sounded desperate.

"Let's go."

Once we were back at Jason's house, he led me up to his room. I was thankful that he lived alone. Once we were in his room, he was pressing me into the door. Hands roamed my body, finally resting on my boobs. He squeezed over and over, pressing them hard. I let out gasps after gasps as he squeezed my flesh. I humped into his crotch, trying to find friction.

"This dress..." He mumbled looking over the small fabric that clung to my body.

"I only bought this dress so you could take it off."

"Jesus Christ." Jason cursed.

With that, he ripped the dress off my body, exposing me to him.

I pulled his shirt off his body and unbuckled his pants, shoving them down, making his cock spring up.

Jason leaned down and took my tit in his mouth, sucking my nipple hard. My mouth fell open as Jason played with my nipples. The tit that wasn't in his mouth, Jason was pinching it with his index finger and thumb. At this point, I was humping against Jason's thigh as hard as I could, trying to find any sort of friction I could. Jason blew my mind away when he pulled both nipples in his mouth, biting down. I let out a loud moan, the pleasure intense. Jason released my tits from his mouth but put his face in between them, rubbing them all over his face, love bites everywhere. I couldn't see his face, but I knew that he was loving every second of my breasts on his face.

Eventually, I pushed Jason away from my tits, sinking to the ground. I was going to give him the same pleasure he gave me. I took his cock in my mouth, going down as far as I could in one go.

"Jesus," Jason groaned lowly, hand in my hair.

"Not Jesus," I told him. "Just Andy." I went back down, taking him all the way down my throat. My hand came up and fondled his balls, pressing them against my face. Jason bucked against my face repeatedly, hands holding on to my head for dear life as I blew him.

"Oh my God."

Jason’s hand came down and found my clit, rubbing circles. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the pleasure. Eventually, the pleasure was too much and I subcame to my first orgasm of the night. Eventually, Jason pulled out of my mouth and pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me.

"I'm gonna make you forget everybody else," He whispered in my ear, biting down gently. "Wearing a dress just so I could take it off you?"

When he pushed himself inside of me, I gasped. Jason was big. Bigger than I could imagine. And every time he entered me for the first time of the night, it felt like the first time all over again.

It felt like he was carving us into the headpost. Over and over again. Pounding in and out. In and out. Jason flipped me over so I was on top. He sat up, taking my breasts into his hands, pushing them against his face again. I rutted myself against him, panting. I let out a gasp as he bit down on my nipples, and with that, I came on his cock.

"Jason, Jason, Jason." I moaned, throwing my head back as I came down from my high.

Jason flipped me over so I was laying on my stomach. He entered me from behind and I moaned as he fucked me through my orgasm.

"I don't want you like a best friend." I cried out.

"We were never just friends." Jason moaned, voice low. "We have always been so much more. With that, he pulled out and came over my back. He panted, laying down next to me.

"Promise?" I asked him quietly.

"Promise."

End.

This is literally the filthiest thing I've ever written. I'm so sorry if it's crap.

[pinkkkkat]

black velvet night

synopsis: nat didn’t mean to match with lottie. if it was up to her, she would’ve left this party the second she realized what she had done. in the end though, it wasn’t up to her, so here she was. (set in 1998 just so shauna’s costume is topical)

request by @cosmcgirl “can you write a fic about them at a halloween party where they accidentally show up wearing matching costumes and everyone assumes they’re dating and keeps teasing them?”

being forced to attend a highschool house party had not been a part of natalie’s halloween plans. those plans actually consisted of giving out what candy they had to the few kids running loose in the trailer park that night, and then eating the rest of it in comfortable solitary, sprawled on her bed and watching a movie maybe, if van had gremlins on tape and let her borrow it

but, when jackie taylor decides one, that she’s hosting this years rendition of wiskayok teens getting drunk for halloween, and two, that the team all has to show up AND dress up in solidarity, there’s not much nat could do to get out of it, weak protests dying in her throat at the lunch table when she saw the determined look in jackie’s eye

a costume though, was another matter. it’s not like she could afford to buy one from the actual halloween store in the mall, and it was also halloween like, today

nat sat on her front porch to smoke immediately after school, smiling at the little girl in the trailer across the way. she was dressed like a lady bug, and running circles on the lawn (read: patch of grass in between her trailer and nat’s) pretending to fly. the young mother came out moments later, dressed like a mummy, blood seeping between the bandages and everything

in a moment of impulse, nat asks if the lady has any fake blood leftover, and she does, and so thats that for halloween costumes. nat rifles through her closet (read: pile of clothes in the corner of her room) and finds a black dress, long sleeves covering her arms and a short skirt brushing the tops of her thighs. the figures she’ll go as a victim of some sort, it doesn’t really matter what as long as she has enough fake blood

so in the grimy trailer bathroom, nat pours a liberal amount of fake blood over her front, from her neck down. the goopy substance sticks her dress to her chest, deep red staining her pale skin. before she leaves the trailer, the incessant beep of van’s horn from her driveway hurrying her along, she dots two blops of the darkest blood onto her neck. a vampire victim, perfect, she thinks, maybe some guy there will be dressed as a vampire and she won’t have to stand awkward and alone while van and tai make out

van whistles at her when she heads out the door to her car (i’m a van x nat best friends truther btw)

“what are you supposed to be?”

“dunno really, i’ve got a vampire bite on my neck though” nat says, tilting her head to expose her skin to the girls in the front seat, but feels embarrassed and indignant when tai barks an incredulous laugh at her (tai, dressed as cruella deville, van, a dalmatian puppy)

“what? is it that dumb?”

“no no just— jesus” she laughs again, turning to up the volume on the radio, and they take off towards jackie taylor’s house

and so, twenty minutes later finds natalie nursing a red solo cup of something sweet and lukewarm, chatting with laura lee (little bo peep) about laura’s counter attack last game and how she can improve. it’s not awful, but nat is missing her candy-in-bed plans like you would not believe. the highlight of the night so far would have to be that jackie (barbie) had pregamed a bit too much, and was drunk enough to relinquish the music controls to shauna (not really in a costume but nat could tell it was supposed to be daria from that mtv program) occasionally, which was resulting in every few songs being that of the sort nat actually likes

she doesn’t realize that something is happening until a third person approaches to interrupt her and laura lee to ask nat where lottie is? and nat doesn’t understand because she hasn’t even seen lottie herself, let alone has she ever acted as lottie’s keeper

“i don’t get it” nat mumbles, and laura lee laughs sweetly at her

“well you are matching with her natalie”

nat gapes at laura lee, not really putting the pieces together. matching? with lottie matthews? no way

so when she turns around to scan the living room and lays eyes on lottie matthews, white blouse stained too with fake blood and tucked into black jeans, long legs highlighted by the platform doc martens she is prone to wearing, she sucks in a little breath. lottie has fake blood dripping from the edges of her mouth, running down her back and over smooth collarbones, disappearing under her shirt, and nat has a sudden urge to see how far it drips down

wait

what

when they make eye contact and lottie smiles at nat, eyes sparkling, nat can see that her already-pointy canines have been accentuated by false teeth to be longer and sharper, nat knows what’s going on. vampire and vampire victim, it’s so obvious that they’re matching nat doesn’t really know what to do besides smile back at lottie teasingly

“here to drain my blood?” she asks when lottie makes it across the room to her, and lottie laughs

“it looks like i already did”

they chat for a moment, but mari (inappropriately sexy nurse) appears nearly right away to drag lottie away. van promptly appears at nat’s side

“sooooooo,” the redhead starts, and nat pins her with a glare. ineffective, because van only laughs at the blush on nat’s face. “oh cmon nat, we both know you wouldn’t being victim to lottie”

and because nat is grown and mature, thank you very much, she stomps away to the kitchen to get another drink. she huffs to herself a few times while she mixes her drink, flush never leaving her cheeks. can you blame her? lottie was hot, and it just so happens that they’re wearing matching costumes. plus, she can’t seem to shake the image of lottie’s wet mouth on her neck, holding nat tightly to keep her still, and that isn’t making her any calmer

she’s shaken from her lottie-centric train of thought when a hand touches her shoulder. nat spins to look and is faced with travis martinez, coaches son, dressed as an unconvincing mario. look okay, nat has nothing against travis. he can be a little asshole sometimes, but he can be funny, and he doesn’t engage in the rumors about nat like some other guys do. the issue is that he’s always flirting, and nat does not know how to turn him down gently

“mario, really?” nat says, fully turning to face him, leaning her hip into the counter and folding her arms. there’s amusement in her eyes when travis rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed

“yeah, javi wanted to be luigi so” and nat smiles a little at this. javi is only young, and that’s the nicest nat has ever seen travis be towards him. so she’s happy to stand here and chat with travis, if it means a distraction from the fact that lottie is here somewhere, matching nat’s costume like they planned it and looking like someone nat is dying to follow home later, to be taken home by lottie like a stray cat the taller girl has grown fond of

travis, because he cannot help himself, crowds closer to nat as the conversation drags on. nat tries not to squirm, the alcohol on his breath and heat from his body’s close proximity making her itch for an escape. the moment travis extends his hand to take nat’s arm, mumbling something about ‘going somewhere more quiet,’ nat feels a pair of hands snake around her waist, pulling her back against a tall frame

it smells like coconut and cherry, and nat knows before she tilts her head up and to the side to see who’s there that it’s lottie. lottie has nat pulled against her, arms wrapped all the way around the blonde girl, hands resting on the front of her hip bones. nat’s hands come up to rest on lottie’s wrists instinctually, and travis fades from her vision a bit as she looks at lottie

lottie is staring directly at travis though, darkness in her eyes growing as she glares at him and his outstretched hand, paused midair at lottie’s arrival. travis rolls his eyes a little at the taller girl, and lottie’s hands grip natalie tighter. a flush overtakes natalie’s face, and she’s a bit appalled at herself. turned on over this alpha-male type dick measuring contest

“bye, travis” lottie says, and travis huffs before walking away, taking one backwards glance and nat and lottie, neither of which move to break the hold they have on each other. nat giggles a little when travis is gone, and can feel lottie’s chest shake against her shoulder blades indicating her own laughter

there’s a moment where neither girl moves, and the kitchen falls relatively silent, minus the dulled tune of sounds like teen spirit coming from the other room. nat distantly thanks god for jackie’s low alcohol tolerance and shauna’s elite music taste

she feels lottie shift, and a hot breath fans out over her neck where she had drawn the bite marks. a shiver runs the length of her spine, and she’s knows lottie could feel it

“you wanna be my meal, natalie?” lottie whispers in her ear, and nat is frozen, blood rushing through her faster than it ever has. lottie punctuates her bold statement with a firm, hot kiss to the side of nat’s neck, and then she releases her completely. nat immediately mourns her absence, head spinning. when she finally builds up the courage to turn around, lottie is gone from the kitchen completely, leaving her with her heard pounding under her ribcage, flush coating her face and down her clavicle, and a distinct print of red lipstick on her neck, over the fake blood and bite marks

later, when shauna gives her a look and says “jesus nat, you look like someone devoured you,” all she can do is grumble under her breath and think about lottie’s mouth

[pensat-i-fet]

Trick...and treat her well (Pedri x Reader) / Halloween '23

Masterlist

Wattpad

After another long day at uni, you just wanted to go home and sleep. Thankfully, the following day was a bank holiday, so you knew you could just sleep in and sort of do nothing all day. But your boyfriend had other plans. Plans that interrupted your own plans.

“What are you doing in bed? Come on! Let’s get ready”, said Pedri, in a too loud voice, when he got to the room. You usually liked how hyper and excited he got by the smallest of things but not at that exact moment.

“Ready for what?”

“It’s Halloween!”

“Pedro, we live in Spain, not America. No one cares about Halloween around here”, you rolled your eyes and laid back down in bed.

“But we talked about going to that party…do you not want to go? I bought us the costumes and everything”.

It was so rare for him to want to go to something like a party that you felt bad saying no. His mood got so much better after being back in training with the team too, and he wanted to celebrate. So you got up and put the costume on, even though you kind of hated it, and you both left for the party.

But it was impossible to concentrate on having fun. Your mind was somewhere else. In all the classes you had to go to, the assignments you had to get done, …it was a bit overwhelming at the moment. People were drinking and that always made your anxiety worse. You didn’t like how hard it was to guess what a drunk person could do next. And when a few of them bumped into you, that feeling only got worse.

“Trick or treat?”, screamed Pedri, making you jump.

“Treat?”

“Here”, he said, offering a bag of sweets and pecking your lips. “Double treat. Just for you”.

You smiled at him but the smile was soon gone when you checked the time and saw how early it was. You had only been there for twenty minutes but it felt like hours.

The only good thing about the party was that Pedri stayed with you the whole time. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone somewhere where there were so many people. You didn’t know who many of them were either. And, even though Pedri was busy chatting and laughing with people, he knew you well. So he soon noticed there was something wrong.

“You ok?”

“Sure”, you answered, trying to smile.

“You don’t look ok. Are you not feeling well or something? Is that why you went to bed earlier?”

“Kind of. But you’re having fun so forget it”.

“No, I’m not having fun if you aren’t too”.

Despite appreciating his kindness, you also felt bad about his reaction. Your mood was not only annoying you, but it was now going to annoy him too. Great. It only made you feel worse about yourself.

“Let’s go home”.

“Pedri, we don’t have to…”.

“We do. I don’t even like parties anyway. You know that”.

“But…”.

“Shh”, he said, placing his index finger on your lips. “You come first always. Let’s go”.

It didn’t take you long to get back home and Pedri told you to go to the sofa and wait for him. He was going to make a drink for you.

“Trick or treat?”, he asked again, this time without yelling.

“Can I have both?”

“Greedy”, he laughed. “You can have this cup of tea I made for you and all these sweets I took from the party”.

“Oh my God”, you said, laughing too. “That’s so much. It’ll take me a week to eat all of it”.

“I might help you finish it”.

“Is this how American kids feel after trick or treating? I don’t even know what to eat first”. “I guess. My only source for it is the movies I watched. And the videos where parents pretended they ate all their sweets”.

“Those videos are horrible. So cruel”.

Pedri sat down next to you and brought you closer to him before turning the TV on and finding the channel you liked. More Buffy reruns were on. Perfect.

“So…wanna talk about it?”

You sighed. Did you want to talk about it? Maybe. But it wasn’t easy to put into words things you didn’t fully understand.

“I don’t know. It’s just…life, I guess. Uni kicking my ass and I just feel very defeated sometimes”.

“Did something in particular happen? Or is it just a general thing?”

“General, I think”.

“That’s…well”, he laughed. “I don’t know if better or worse. I guess if it was just one problem, we could try to fix it but if it’s just a general thing, it’s a bit harder”.

“I suppose it is like that, yeah”.

“What can I do to help?”

You looked at him and smiled immediately. He was always so eager to help. “You’re doing well so far. But I guess just be there when I need you. Talking is helping me right now. And, I don’t know, maybe you could pamper me a bit”.

“So it’s all just an excuse to be treated like a princess, got it”, he joked and your smile became wider.

“I can’t fool you, can’t I?”

[versegm]

It isn’t a secret, not really; this isn’t the sort of thing one can conceal forever. But it is an unspoken agreement in the party: we do not speak of Tonelico’s illness.

“There, there.” Mash rubs soothing circles over her back. “Breathe. It’ll be okay.”

Tonelico wheezes, spasms, and another violent cough overtakes her entire body. She hunches over, petals spilling over her lips.

“I’m with you.” There is not much that Mash can do- but at least, she can talk. Let her voice be an anchor through the pain. “I’m with you. It’s okay.”

With a latch spasm, Tonelico retches, and a cascade of flowers tumbles out of her mouth, hanging by vines. She stays like this for a few seconds, catching her breath- then she reaches up and pulls on the bundle of leaves, until the vines snap, retracting back to the back of her throat.

“... Thank you.” She’s smiling, but she’s still very obviously breathless. Her shoulders keep twitching without any of her input. “That would have been unpleasant to deal with alone.”

Mash rubs her back one last time, then lets go. “Don’t mention it.” And, like the rest of the team, she will go back to pretending it’s not here.

*****

They call it hanahaki, the flower-vomitting disease.

“It’s caused by repressed feelings,” Ector explains to her, one day when they are alone, “anger. Sadness. Hope. All these things you keep deep inside. They fester, and plants grow from this fertile soil.”

He does not elaborate. He does not need to.

Tonelico is a good person. She always looks at the bright side of things. She helps people without ever asking for a reward, and smiles regardless of any hardship in her way.

She reminds Mash of Senpai. This is not a good thing.

*****

She holds onto that assumption for the whole nine months she spends in the Fairy Calendar. Tonelico tells her my spear went out of control, and Mash thinks of the petals she finds on Tonelico’s pillow every morning; she tells her I will not save the fairies, and Mash thinks of the leaves she huffs out at times; she tells her there is not a single fairy I wish to save, and Mash thinks of bouquets of carnations pried out of her jaws with bare fingers.

It’s only at the very end of her journey that Mash understands that, like with many things, Tonelico had been playing a role.

It’s a horrible sight; Tonelico breaking down, madness in her eyes. She must be cursing the very skies, but her words are incomprehensible, her voice drowned in the torrent of flowers fleeing her lungs. Some of them are roses. There is blood on the petals.

And yet. Even now.

Mash guesses her true name before she speaks it out loud. By this point, the ice has almost engulfed her whole; she can no longer speak. In her last moments of consciousness, Mash connects everything she knows about Tonelico, and everything she knows about Morgan, painting the only picture that makes sense.

Even now. Even now. Even now. She’s trying to save Britain. Even now. Even now. Even now. She’s trying to save Britain.

It wasn’t anger she was repressing. It wasn’t any kind of rage at all. What she kept so dearly close to her heart, what Tonelico refused to ever speak out loud, was but the simplest and most unrequited-

*****

-love.

Morgan’s body is not in the throne room. Morgan’s body is not anywhere to be found. Mash is familiar with the fairies’ cruelty by now. They must have thrown it into the Great Pit.

The flowers remain, though. Whatever they did to Morgan, it tore these plants right out of her lungs, and scattered them all over the room. 

Mash picks one up- a simple yellow one. That simple act echoes with simple times, afternoons helping Tonelico up after a particularly harsh cough. A flower. A simple flower. Morgan’s flower. Morgan’s love.

Because despite everything. Despite everything. Tonelico, Morgan, she loved Britain. She loved Britain to the point of making herself sick.

And it did not love back.

The flowers. The flowers. The flowers. They’re scattered across the room. No one has given them a second glance. Maybe one day someone will come and use them to make a crown, or decorate their house- unaware that they are the last remnants of a girl who damned herself to the bone for her country. Unaware that they are holding Morgan’s spilled love, misdirected as it may have been.

Mash violently shoves the flower in her own mouth.

It tastes bitter. Of course it does. Tonelico’s love could not be any other way. At best it tastes bad, at worst it might be poisonous. Mash doesn’t care. She swallow it whole, barely chewing, and when it has safely slid its way down her throat she bends down and grabs another.

This is Tonelico’s. This is her love. It grew from her entrails. The thought of anyone getting their hands on these, treating them like they would a piece of furniture- it’s unbearable. They have no idea what any of these mean. They have no idea who Tonelico was, truly was . They have no right over her love. They have no right over her body. If anyone is to desecrate her any further, then- let it be Mash. Let it be someone who cares.

Yes, this is a completely insane thing to say, she is aware. But what can she do? She is alone in her grief. Senpai would understand if she explained, but they weren’t there. There is no one left alive who was. The only thing left in this world who must have loved Tonelico as much as she did is the parasite that grew in her lungs, and so Mash gathers its remnants in her palms and eats and eats and eats.

Her throat hurts. She chokes at times. Tonelico choked too, when she coughed those out. This is the closest the two of them have ever been.  It’s cannibalism. It’s communion. It’s don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t leave me.

This petal still has blood on it, the taste of copper filling Mash's mouth. This is from her veins. This is from her guts. Every stem she ingests is a part of Tonelico that can never be taken away from her- not by the Fairies, not by the Queen’s Calendar, not by any cosmos denial. This, she will carry with her until the end of times. Tonelico’s love will not die. Mash will survive and therefore it will not die.

[hyukascampfire]

first 🌰 ask of the year, how exciting is that 👏😏 hi ashlynn! hope you’re feeling better! it made me so happy to talk about folk of the air with you. i have more fae stories in my 2025 tbr, like balzac’s the last fey (a very short read) and the second book in the emily wilde series (i think the third one is releasing very soon.) concerning my fave reads from the holiday event… you guessed 2 out 3 titles correctly OMG how do you know me this well !?

let’s go about this in descending order.

🥉 krampusnacht ┃ is this a safe space to say i got off to this one? and i know, i know i said i can rarely get into pwp… which is why i’m pleasantly surprised by how captivated i was by this. i saw the light. and the way beomgyu’s delayed appearance creates both tension and anticipation? i was being teased on several levels LMAO.

🥈 it will come back ┃ maybe it’s because the crowd has been awaiting tsfawc taehyun smut with bated breath but i know i’m not the only one who was reminded of him while reading iwcb. let’s begin with the fact that you named it after another hozier song title!? and the jealousy, obviously? (never fear that you might be overindulging in the jealousy trope for i voraciously eat it up every single time.) but i digress. i think what makes a yandere character so caricatural is when the mc knows something’s off with them yet decide not to do anything about it. like, wdym he just baked your cat into a pie for cockblocking him once and you don’t gaf ??? the fact that, in iwcb, mc only realises she’s fucked when it’s too late adds such a layer of realism that amplifies the prevailing dreariness. also “is this what you want? to be fucked like an animal? you’re better than that. but, if it’s what you like, i’ll fuck you like it.” i died, i’m typing this from the afterlife.

🥇 at swan lake ┃ the story began with melancholy but i was so excited to read this one that i couldn’t stop giggling (◞‸◟) i have to say, you’re so great at focusing on one particular personality trait of each member and expanding on it to make up the character you believe best fits the story. it’s like… they’re familiar/recognisable yet we see them in a new light. (“in the air, the rich nuttiness of fire-toasted chestnuts dance…” they could really get me to show up to the engagement party with that fr.) “i’d take you no matter how you are; in a thousand different lives, i’d have you each time.” yeah, i CRIED. you dropped so many banger lines in this one. the lore was so insane in at swan lake, i was invested as hell. the gasp i let out when beomgyu revealed that the whole swan saints thingy is a lie and they can touch ??? why was i bamboozled OFC they can touch otherwise how would they fuck ??? the concept is way too brilliant, i’d totally read it as a novel or novella.

special mentions ┃ the frost remembers (angst is bait, i am fish.) ⟋ milk with your cookies? (i know the people are enjoying gift wrapping more but sleep on beds, not peak!!)

i read everything you wrote and, as i thought, you could never write anything half-assed. glad to know tsfawc is back AAAAA i’d love a spoiler like last time (＞＜) miss my gang (brooding fae man, changeling, the off-putting kelpie guy they sort of adopted and prince charming fae who’s been all in their business, thinking he’s on the team.) take care! stay hydrated and get adequate amounts of rest! love u 🌰🤎

first chestnut ask of the year!! life is good >.<!! talking w u about my silly faerie obsession has been fun and i’ll have to read some more so that it never ends. :3

IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS YOU DONT EVEN KNOW. i’m just awesome and smart like that 😖 JKJK I JUST HAD A FEELING

KRAMPUSNACHT THREW ME OFF A LIL. i think out of the smuttier ones, tho, it makes sense. also YES it absolutely is IM FLATTERED. i need this pair in ways that i should not disclose. beomgyu’s a little wicked and a little eerie but that’s how i like him. LMAO

IT WILL COME BACKKK that’s one of my favorite hozier songs it’s so eerie and sexy at the same time. i knew it had to be the title 😭 iwcb and tsfawc taehyun are definitely in the same vein. especially with that cool calculation. but of course, they have a very different set of morals and i think that’s where they differ most. hehe. i do sometimes fear that i’m going overboard with jealousy, but… i am who i am. i am a hoe for jealousy, but i am FREE and i am HAPPY. i agree w yandere’s sometimes become unbelievable when they’re not handled correctly. sometimes they’re just batshit crazy in broad daylight, and i’m like?? i am not feeling unnerved and slightly out of place, i’m just SCARED. with yanderes, you definitely have to keep reader in a suspension of belief along with the MC. the best part abt a yandere, in my opinion, is that chills feeling you get when you know something is slightly off, but you can’t pin it/say that there’s smth wrong with them, because they’ve gotten good at hiding who they really are. this one was so fun to write for me,, it was my first dabble into dark territory and WHEW did i love it

at swan lake… my baby <<<333 ALSO IVE BEEN TOLD THIS A FEW TIMES, that the members are vaguely familiar when i write them. i fully own that—i think that sometimes it’s really fun to have a character in a fic that is super far from a member’s true self, but i really like being able to relate them back to the members because it just feels so immersive. maybe that’s why i do it, lol. AND I KNEW YOU’D LOVE THAT i was absolutely thinking abt you when i wrote that. so toasty so cozy so yum. i am so attached to this fic, as the certified #1 soulmates & reincarnation truther. something about a love that will prevail and find its way, even through the stark end of death and the pressure of the world on its back… cries. i just loved beomgyu being her opposite, and everything that goes against what she has been taught, but she just couldn’t keep herself away. it was fate. CRIES HARDER.

the frost remembers, my precious :,)) also I LOVE MILK W UR COOKIES AND i am so w u. santa soobin was smth i was not expecting to have to reflect upon myself with, but it happened and i am better for it.

ILY BUNCHES and i miss my gang too :(( they are a strange bunch, maybe even a motley crew, but they have a special place in my heart. i love them and OFCCC i’ll give you guys spoilers. i’m too impatient not too 😭 i get excited for you guys to see. U TAKE CARE OF URSELF and as always i’ll be waiting for the next time you come to talk! :3