#and i just lay around all day trying to distract myself from how much my life sucks and how bad my head really is right now

[biolums]

god i really just am. so mentally ill that i barely function as a person

[flowerdough]

.

[gaysindistress]

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Based on this ask that the lovely @navybrat817 got and jajfjejjdbd now I’ve got it bad for this man 🥺 he needs just as much love as our sweet Bucky 💕

He wants to be good for you.

He wants to be a good man for you.

He wants to be the man that you deserve.

That starts with leaving ‘Ghost’ on base. The one moment he can, he’s stripping off every layer of ‘Ghost’ and washing his sins away in the shower, scrubbing at the stains they leave. It burns his skin and leaves it red and irritated but he only stops when he’s clean and smells like the regulation soap. You hate it when he comes home not smelling like himself but he can put up with your pout if it means he comes home a good, honest man.

Only Price knows about you and the humble abode that you two share.

Only Price knows that you have two rambunctious dogs that drive you up the walls when Si isn’t home.

Only Price knows that you worry constantly about your Si when he’s working but refuse to text or call until he does.

“I don’t want to distract him,” you mumbled drunkenly against Price’s shoulder the last time they were home. “I know he’s your Ghost or whatever but he’s my Si and I…I couldn’t live with myself if my call distracted him.”

“Tell ya what lass,” Price muttered back into your hair as he watched Simon play with your dogs in the backyard, “I’ll call you when he’s safe and sound.”

“Oh John, that’s too much to ask…”

Price cuts you off, “honestly it’s not for you. He gets fussy when he doesn’t come back to a text from you. Won’t stop his whining until he hears your voice.”

You press a chaste kiss to his gruff cheek and settle back into his side with a smile when Simon stomps in, complaining about your “dickhead” dogs.

His love for you suffocates him some days.

His love for you consumes him some days.

His love for you fuels him to push through and come home every day.

There isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for you and he does what he can to show you that. His childhood was rough. That’s a given. His adult life hasn’t been much better and he struggles. He doesn’t know how to express his emotions outside of legendary side eyes and sarcastic remarks but he tries for you.

“If anything happened to you, i would burn the world to get you back,” he tells you one late night as you lay together in bed. He was gone for close to a month and the first thing he did when he walked through your door was scoop you up and head for the bedroom. Silently he stripped the both of you, climbed into bed, and drug you into his chest. With his thick arms wrapped around you and equally strong legs entangled with yours, he nestled into your hair and breathed in every molecule of your being. He missed you but his love for you had felt like it was drowning him and he needed you to feel just how much it choked him

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t mean that,” you say back although it’s muffled against his collarbone.

“Afterwards I’d bury myself beside you if it meant I could be close to you for eternity.”

The air in your lungs thinned and you damn near gasped at the closest thing to a love confession you’d ever gotten from him.

Trying to lighten the tension of it all, you’d joke about how that could even be possible if he burned the world. To which he replied with “I will find a way or I will make one.”

“Simon,” the syllables of his name are drawn out as you plead with him to do something. He smirks into the skin of your neck as he trails wet kisses down it.

“Yes, little one?”

[reidology13]

I tell someone I love them (just as a distraction)

Spencer Reid x fem famous!reader

Summary: In the depths of his addiction, Spencer finds someone who needs an escape as much as he does. cw: talk of addiction, allusions to sex (no actual smut), angst no happy ending

Part 2 here!

Meaningless whispers of ‘I love you’ mumbled between laboured breaths and cold kisses in an apartment that doesn’t feel like mine. The sheen of sweat that coats his body is nearly constant these days, it has nothing to do with physical exertion. The glaze over his hollow eyes is the furthest possible thing from pleasure, although by now he might have his wires crossed. His face is beautiful, and I can see myself marrying it in another life, one where my chest isn’t as hollow as his cheeks. A life where I don’t have to ignore the fresh scars in the crook of his elbow as I pull his shirt off.

I am not in that world, and neither is he, a reality that I cannot grieve because this is what I asked for, what I have been working for since before I can remember. The parties that leave me empty and sick, the performances that start the moment I leave the stage, the new friends who tag along for my name. I love him because he doesn’t care about any of it, if only because he’s too high to care about much at all.

I don’t feel anything when I finish, I’m not sure he does, either. I watch as he disappears from my side, already scrambling to his bag, searching through it until he finds what he needs. He slips into the bathroom, finally taking his chance to feel something after the numbness of the night. He has his escape, he used to be mine. I wonder if one day the chemicals he defiles his veins with will stop calming his ever racing mind, or if I just need a higher dose.

When he comes back, I pull him close to me, dragging him back down into the bedsheets and sweat. It works this time, my skin alight with every electrifying touch as his fingers dance gracefully across my body. His hands shake as they move, a feeling that makes my nerves sing as a lump forms in my throat and my heart sinks to my stomach. He looks up at me with those brown eyes that would be so gorgeous if they held any emotion, anything but that violent hunger for a craving he should have satisfied moments earlier. He can’t up his dose as easily as I can, can’t pull his vice back to bed without the risk of never waking up. He doesn’t bother saying that he loves me this time, we both know it’s not true. Or maybe it is, but there are things he loves much more, and telling me he loves me debases one of the only pure things left in the world. I’m glad he doesn’t try this time.

He holds me afterwards, his trembling body not yet ready to stand up, or maybe he knows that the moment he does he’ll be back inside the bathroom. I turn my head away, and as he buries his face in my shoulder, I pretend I don’t feel the apology he mouths against my glass skin. He runs a hand down my upper arm, his touch tentative and light, scared that I’ll shatter into a million pieces. My heart does. If he knows about the tear that runs down my face, he ignores it, and I’m not surprised. Ignorance is what we’re good at, after all.

When I wake up, he’s gone, slipped into the early morning, or called into the job that he shouldn’t be doing in his condition. I crawl out of my cold, damp sheets, the disgusting aftermath of our night. The sick feeling that perpetually sits in my gut, loosening under him, twisting tighter under the sun of the next day. 

Slowly, I peel back the layers of sticky fabric, watching how they cling to my skin and each other as I force them into the washing machine. I turn it on.

Fresh sheets are laid out on my bed, sheets that haven’t yet witnessed the tornado of us, still clean and untainted by tears and sweat and words that never mean anything. I lay the sheet over the mattress, fighting to wrap it around all four corners as it perpetually escapes one, always sitting just slightly wrong. I place the pillows down carefully, fighting the urge to punch them like I’ve been wanting to punch his face every time he shows up at my door.

I can see myself marrying him in this world, too, getting him the help he needs and staying with him through it all. He would be able to be there for me when I need it, not an escape from, but support through the other parts of my life, a person to love and talk to about the hard things. But I know that is still impossible. One day, he will sober up and disappear, or I will be an uninvited guest at his funeral. There’s no option that ends well for both of us, the best we can do is take it as it happens and ignore everything.

I watch as the last blanket floats down over the bed, carelessly adjusting its corners. It looks exactly the same.

[shaypie67]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

Summary: Ben has been being an asshole lately and decides to make it up to you. (NO SMUT)

Pairing: Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

Warnings: Bad Language/Cursing.

Word Count: 722

"Will you stop?" I snap at him from where I'm trying to wash the dishes, getting a little distracted as he comes up behind me, pulling my tightly against him.

He just huffs and stands back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What is your problem?" He scowls back at me.

I huff and drop a plate onto the table so hard it almost breaks as I turn to look at him.

"My problem is... we just had a massive dinner and I'm the one who has to do the dishes and clean the house when I feel like dropping to sleep because all you can think of is your cock!"

He clenches his jaw and scoffs a little bit, turning away from me.

"That's not my fucking job! It's the woman's and the last time I checked it was you!"

I take a deep breath, staring at him with tears glazing my eyes, thinking he was getting better at adjusting to the new worlds, only to be brought back to the beginning.

"Screw you!" I argue back through gritted teeth and throw the sponge down too and storm off into the bedroom.

Ben stands there quietly, surprised by your outburst. He feels the guilt rise in him and lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

He knows how much you do for him, despite him being an ass and feels bad for blowing up in your face. Knowing he has to make it up to you somehow.

He looks around the kitchen and living room, looking at all the dirty plates and pots from where they had a joint dinner with Annie and Hughie. He nods again and grabs the sponge, grimacing at washing the wet food off the plates and buzzes around until the entire apartment is clean and he's panting heavily. Surprised by how much effort it took, but glad he did it for you.

He walks into the bedroom and sees you lying on the bed, nose in one of your favourite books. He steps closer and lays down on the bed next to you, grabbing your book and moving it to the nightstand.

I look over at Ben confused, still upset with him so I choose to stay quiet.

He takes a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls your back to his chest, letting out a sigh into your neck as he hugs you close. Whispering into your ear.

"I'm sorry."

I look down at his hand on my waist, taking a deep breath myself as I hear his small apology, knowing that probably took a lot out of him to admit. I smile a little and interlace my fingers with his, leaning into his hold.

"It's okay... I was just tired and didn't feel like doing a deep clean on the kitchen" I reply quietly, feeling his thumb rub my knuckles as he kisses the back of my neck.

"You don't have to. I finished it for you."

That makes me pause, turning over to look at his smirking face a little dumbfounded.

"You... washed the kitchen?"

He chuckles a little at your reaction to him actually getting off his ass and doing something for once, but he doesn't act too smug about it.

"Yes. And FYI, we're getting a dishwasher. Touching wet food from the bowl was nasty." His nose scrunches up, remembering the odd soggy feeling he powered through.

I can't help but laugh at his facial expression, using my hand to cup his cheek, kissing him softly on the lips, sighing softly when I feel him kiss me back. I pull away and barely speak above a whisper.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply and just pulls you down onto his chest, wrapping an arm around your back to keep you close to him.

"Now no more whining, I'll buy the dishwasher so neither of us have to clean again." He grumbles in his usual grumpy tone, but I notice more of a humored tone than any anger behind it. So I just close my eyes and nuzzle into his chest, enjoying the warmth.

"Goodnight, Ben." I say before closing my eyes, letting sleep take me after the long day.

He hums in reply before kissing your forehead softly, replying in a barely audible tone.

"Night, Doll."

THE END

[chuuyasheaven]

♡ Addicted to your kisses ♡

♡ Tags: Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, making out, pet names, praising, soft sex??, desk fucking??, idk what's acc happening rn, Reader distracting Dazai, p/without any/p? , might contain grammar errors, rushed drabble, cringe, etc.

♡ Notes: NEW FORMAT ?!?! But also srry for disappearing, school's already making me want to kms

Dazai had a lot to do this week, there were a ridiculous amount of documents and reports which had to be filled. He also didn't take a lot of breaks during all this, and the worst thing of all? Not being able to be around you. Not being around your sweet touches, your sweet voice and most of all, your addictive kisses. But it's probably better this way, he may be locked in his room at all times but atleast he's not getting distracted!

When you first found out, you were glad that he was catching up on stuff, but now it has been almost two days since you last been with him. Hell, you even started to get worried, so why not check up on him? Just a quick peak and small talk and then leave him be? That was your original plan, trying not to get him overwork himself, which started off innocently. . Until you kissed him. It was just a quick kiss on the forehead, how did it escalate to this?!

"S–shit, i missed you so much, 'donna.", Dazai panted between kisses, while you were just eager for his lips to touch yours again. From this one kiss, it all started from one innocent kiss for most of the paperwork to lay on the floor and you sitting on his desk, with your arms around his neck as he made out with you passionately. You were so deep into it that even his tongue entered your mouth, fighting for dominance even though you're submitting to him. Dazai's hands are now on your waist, holding you close to him. "Did you miss me too?"

"Yes, i did. . a lot, 'Samu.", you answered his question, just the way he wanted it. "Your kisses are so addictive, darling, i just can't stop after one.", he explained while looking you in the eyes lovingly. You needed him so bad, it was even a joke anymore, and trust me, he could tell. "You want more, love?", he asked, you nodded once more, eagerly and excitedly. Dazai only smirked and slid of your pants, leaving you in your panties. He then unbuckles his own belt. You could see his obvious boner, getting more excited yourself.

Dazai just took out his dick and pushed your panties impatiently to the side, sliding into you immediately. When he was in fully, you let out a quiet whimper. After waiting for a few seconds for you to adjust, you gave him the sign to start. Dazai moved his hips slowly first, already groaning in pleasure while your whimpers turned into moans. His hands were still on your hips, his head now on your shoulder trying to stay quiet. "You feel so good, f–fuck. .", he grunted softly into your ear, only getting you wetter. Dazai's thrusts got faster as this went on, he himself started to whimper slowly.

"You're s–so pretty, I can't–,", Dazai started, getting cut off by his cock twitching so good inside you, that it he had to take a deep breath to continue. Dazai giggled drunkenly before continuing his sentence. "I c–can't control myself. But you like it, don't you? You l–like the way you have me wrapped around fingers so easily.", You arched your back as he trusted into you deep, letting out a slutty moan during it. "Y–you're such a good girl, I love you so m–much.", he whimpered softly, twitching a second time.

The skin slapping in the room got louder and sloppier, meaning that you and Dazai got closer to your orgasm. You placed your legs around his waist, resulting into him going even deeper than before. "D–dazai,", you whimper loud enough for him to hear. "Y–yes, my love?", he asked while lifting his head from your shoulder, smiling drunkenly at you, very slight drool rolling down the corner of his mouth. "C–can I get a kiss, p–please?", he just leaned in, kissing you again. As his lips smashed against yours, your back arched again. Dazai twitched once more before cumming inside you, both of moaning into the kiss while you came with him at the same time.

Letting go of the kiss, you tried catching your breath and Dazai pulled out a few minutes later, sitting down back onto his chair and leaving you still on top of his desk. "Did you finish your work, 'Samu?", you asked, while Dazai just laid on your thighs breathing lightly. "Not really,", he stated. "Then go finish it. You know what happens when you don't.", you warned him until you felt his warm breath get closer to your inner thighs. "Relax, darling, let me clean you up first, hm?", before you could protest, Dazai was already breathing towards your cunt's direction.

"—I can't leave you leaking our juices onto my desk, can I, 'donna?"

AHHH I ACC LIKE THIS !! ♡

♡ Random tags:: @soukokulatte, @rxyyyyy, @miloofc !!

[bugsmunched]

" Deep Breaths, Sweetheart" - Logan Howlett x Trans! Man! Reader

Request:

hiii i have a request if that's alright:-) i absolutely loved your logan x trans!man!reader fic so would it be possible to have that again? logan helps & comforts the reader on a bad dysphoria day, helping with binding, taking the t-shot & stuff like that, maybe taking the reader out on a date for distraction or cooking at home, you decide:'-) all the gentle affirmations & mental health support without judging♡ might've gone a lil self-indulgent here i'm sorry😅

Requested by @chrrywvea

Tw: AFAB READER! TRANS READER! gender dysphoria, binding, needle mentions, tooth rotting fluff, fluffy nudity, fluffy shower scene,neck kissing, reader has a happy trail, cute domestic shit, gentle praise, affirmations, Logan is cute as hell, Logan worships reader,

WC: 2,680

Requests are open! And dw more Logan x FTM reader is soon to come! (As a trans man myself I find these really comforting)

Hello all my fellow trans men, I see that you enjoyed my last fic with an FTM reader and Logan Howlett, so here's some more! I hope this is sufficient!

You groaned a little bit as you felt your body begin to wake up, sunlight being gently filtered through Logan's thin curtains. You moved the blanket a little bit so it was covering your face, blocking the light from hitting your eyes. You went to roll over to turn away from the window, only to realize that a pair of strong arms were keeping you from moving. You smiled a little bit to yourself, melting into the comfort of being held by your boyfriend.

You laid still for a little while until your legs started to get a little restless. You did your best to wiggle out of the brunette's tight grasp, giggling a little bit when his grip only tightened. He pulled you closer to him, your back pressed flush against his chest, his lips near your ear.

“And where are you going, mister?” He asked, his voice gravely from having just woken up, his breath hot on your ear.

“‘m just trying to readjust, Lo..not trying to go anywhere, the sun is just in my eyes. “ You hummed softly, stifling a laugh as he wrapped his arms tighter around you before lifting you and flipping you around so you were no longer facing the window.

“Is that better, sweetheart?” He asked softly as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead, his eyes tracing the shape of your face. No matter how many mornings the two of you woke up in bed together, he would always study your face, like he was trying desperately to memorize each curve.

“Mhm..much better..now I got a much better view too..” you murmured softly, looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes.

“The view from here is absolutely magnificent…” he said with a little chuckle, adjusting a little bit so his face was buried in your neck. You giggled a little at the feeling of his beard scratching the sensitive skin of your neck. He took a few deep breaths, pressing a few delicate and loving kisses to the side of your neck.

“You're laying it on a little thick there, Wolvy..” you giggled softly, a hand tangling in his hair as you just let him place living kisses against your neck.

“Personally, I think I'm not giving you enough affection, my prince. “ He hummed gently, the vibrations of his deep voice making you giggle again.

You paused for a moment and then groaned, closing your eyes a little bit as the realization hit you. “ It's shot day…” you whined softly, “damnit. “

Logan chuckled a little bit and pulled away from your neck, looking into your eyes. “ Yeah, my love, it is shot day. “

You whined and covered your face with your hands. You always dreaded shot day- perhaps it was the fact that you chose to get it bi-weekly, and by the end of the two weeks your hormones seemed all out of wack. Or maybe it was the fact that in order to appear more as a man you had to take a shot, and you couldn't do it naturally. It could've also been your fear of needles, those things always freaked you out, even before you had to take testosterone shots. You weren't exactly sure why you hated shot day, but you knew that without Logan it would be one of the worst days out of the month.

“Hey, hey…sweetheart, it's okay…” Logan hummed softly as he pulled your hands away from your face, looking at you with a smile that could simply make you melt. “I'm here, my beloved. You know I'll do everything in my power to make sure today goes well, okay?” he reassured you gently, arms wrapping tightly around you as he squeezed softly.

You sighed a little bit, relaxing into your boyfriend's touch. His large frame feeling heavy against your own, similar to a weighted blanket. “you promise?”

“I promise, sweetheart. “ He hummed softly, kissing the side of your face lovingly. “I would never let anything happen to you, my handsome boy. “

You closed your eyes, nuzzling into Logan's warm touch, feeling yourself relax at his calming words. “I love you, Logan. “ You hummed softly.

“I love you too, sweetheart. “ He said as he placed a kiss to your nose before he unwrapped his warm arms from your body and sat up, stretching a little bit.

You whined at the loss of contact and made grabby hands at him, sticking out your bottom lip in a pout. “ Come back!” You whined softly.

Logan chuckled and ruffled your hair gently before he stood up, shaking his head at your whiny protest. “ C'mon, darling, we've got to get the day started. “ He said as he extended a hand for you to grab.

Reluctantly you grabbed onto his hand as he pulled you out of bed and into his arms, hoisting you to your feet. “ Atta boy. “ He praised gently with a smile, making you blush a little bit under his gaze.

He gently led you over to the closet and started picking out clothes. For you he picked out one of his favorite shirts- so it smelled like him– a pair of boxers, and a pair of his sweats. He always loved how you looked in his clothes, plus they made you feel a little more euphoric, especially on your shot days.

You reached forward and grabbed your binder, Logan giving you a look. “ Sweetheart, I don't think we're planning on leaving the manor today…”

You shrugged a little bit and held onto the black fabric. “ I promise I won't wear it for longer than 8 hours, okay Lo? It'll just make me feel better…” you explained, looking at him with big eyes.

He nodded in understanding, “ okay but I'm setting a timer as soon as you put it on, okay handsome boy?” He asked with a smile as he began to pick out his own clothes. He grabbed a plain black shirt that tended to cling to his torso, a matching pair of boxers, some jeans and a flannel in your favorite color. That was one of your favorite outfits of his, and he knew it.

He grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom, setting all the clothes on the counter as you placed your binder on top of your pile. He quickly walked over to the shower and turned it on, making sure it was at the perfect temperature for you. He didn't care if it was too hot or cold for him, he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible.

Your hands went to the hem of your shirt to take it off before arms wrapped around you, Logan replacing your hands with his own. You smiled and lifted your arms up as he helped remove your shirt, his eyes lingering on your figure.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed softly, your eyes gravitating towards your chest. You felt the instinctive urge to cover yourself, but Logan gently held your hands. “ Look at my handsome boy…” he whispered gently as he head dipped down into the crook of your neck, leaving gentle kisses on the warm skin.

“I don't feel like it…” you gawked at your own body, letting out a soft sigh.

“Oh please sweetheart, I have a bigger rack than you do..” Logan hummed against your skin, his beard and sideburns scratching gently at the delicate skin. He sucked gently at your collarbone, but not enough to leave any marks. His intentions were to just ground you and keep you from getting too upset with how your body looked.

You laughed a little bit at his words, a smile spreading across your face. It was kind of true, he did have a massive rack- and you could never stop staring at his pecs. “You're just saying that. “

He shook his head, a hand resting on your waist, rubbing circles into the supple skin with his thumb. “You know that I’d never say something that I didn't mean, sweetheart. Especially not to the handsomest boy in the world. “

You hummed softly as he kissed up your neck delicately, a hand sliding down your body and grabbing the hem of your sleep shorts. He gently pulled them down as you allowed him. You stood in front of the mirror, now completely nude with your boyfriend burying his face into your neck, his hands resting on your waist.

He looked up from your neck for a moment and made eye contact with you in the mirror before his eyes trailed down, lingering on the little happy trail that laid on the bottom of your stomach. He smiled and looked back up, looking at your eyes through the mirror. “Look at you…” he exclaimed softly, his eyes full of nothing but love. You loved mornings like this, where he just took his sweet time to appreciate your body- but not even in a sexual way. He just lovingly and innocently appreciated your body, acting like you were sculpted by the universe itself.

You shivered a little bit at the cold air of the bathroom, melting into the warmth behind you. “ C'mon, Lo..” you hummed softly, playfully pushing his head away from your neck. He whined a little bit but complied as he stepped back from you, pulling off his own shirt and boxers.

You couldn't help but stand there, mouth agape for a moment. Your eyes lingered downwards, committing the layout of his abs to memory. You swore that his body was absolutely perfect. He laughed a little bit, “eyes up here, sweetheart. “ He said, making you blush slightly.

You looked up at him with a smile, feeling like you were falling in love all over again. He grabbed your hand and gently led you into the shower, a sigh exiting your lips as the water hit your front. He smiled softly, stepping in behind you and holding onto your waist once again. He pressed his chest against your back.

He reached up with one arm and grabbed the shower head, his other hand cradling your head gently as you let yourself relax. He let the water rush over your hair, massaging the strands gently to let it soak up water before he put the shower head back up, grabbing your bottle of shampoo.

He poured some into his hand and lathered it for a moment before he began massaging it into your scalp, your head leaning into his fingers. You wished that this moment could last forever, the two of you pressed so close together as he just cared for you.

Soon enough he began to rinse out your hair, letting the suds run down your body. He made sure to get it all out, not wanting grease and grime to build up on your hair. He then grabbed the conditioner and rubbed it into your ends, being almost too delicate with his touch.

He began to wash his own hair as the two of you waited for the conditioner to set in your hair, the strong pine scent of his shampoo filling your nose. It was strong, but it always smelled wonderful, mainly because it reminded you of him.

Soon enough he rinsed your conditioner out of your hair, soon following with his own head. He then grabbed the bottle of soap and your sponge. “You want to do it? “ He asked softly. He always washed your hair for you, but left it up to you on who washed your body, knowing you could be a bit shy about it.

You grabbed the sponge from his hand and nodded softly, pouring some soap into it and beginning to lather it up. “Okay, my love. “ He spoke gently, grabbing his own sponge and doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you exited the shower, Logan turning off the water as he wrapped a fluffy towel around your body. He wrapped himself in another towel, looking at you with a bright smile. He grabbed another towel and started to gently dry your hair, making sure that it wasn't dripping wet.

After both of you were sufficiently dry, he walked over to the counter and grabbed your pile of clothes first, handing you your boxers. You pulled them on, reaching out for your binder as he shook his head. “Can I put it on you darling? I promise to be careful. “ He asked softly.

You smiled gently and nodded, raising your arms in the air once again as you grabbed the binder, pulling it over your head and down your chest. He smiled softly as he helped to flatten the fabric against your chest, kissing your nose quickly. “ My boy.” He hummed softly, watching as you glanced past him to look in the mirror.

He could tell that your head was swimming with thoughts, so he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss for just a moment before pulling away. “ My handsome boy, you have nothing to worry about, alright? Your body is absolute perfection, every last bit of it. Don't worry that handsome little head of yours, my prince. “ He said gently, looking you up and down for a moment.

He backed away and put his own clothes on, leaving you in your boxers and binder. He opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a vile of testosterone and a boxed syringe. He sat down on a chair that the two of you had put in the bathroom a little while ago and patted his lap gently.

You walked over and gently sunk into his lap, back pressed against his chest. He opened an alcohol wipe and gently began to clean an area on your stomach, letting it dry for a few moments. “Are you ready, baby boy?” He asked softly, grabbing the syringe.

You nodded hesitantly, looking away from the syringe. You hated needles. He prepared the syringe, drawing the testosterone from the vial. “ Alright, deep breaths, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to relax, giving a little bit of a high pitched whine as you felt the needle. After a minute you opened your eyes and saw a pretty yellow bandaid on the injection site. “Done already?” You asked softly, with a bit of surprise.

“Yeah, sweetheart, done already. It was quick and easy. “ Logan said softly as he tossed the used syringe into the sharps container you two had in the bathroom. He leant down and pressed a kiss to your temple, “ and you did such a good job, darling. Such a good job. “ He praised gently as he rubbed your sides gently.

He grabbed your waist and picked you up as he stood up, placing you steady on your feet. “ Alright, let's get you dressed the rest of the way, then we can go have breakfast, okay?” He asked softly, giving you a toothy grin.

You nodded and started to pull on the pair of sweatpants, lifting your arms up so he could pull his shirt over your head. You brought the fabric up to your nose and took a deep breath. It smelt like him. It smelt like home.

He stared at you for a moment, rubbing his beard with his hand. He just stood there, taking you in, staring in awe at how amazing you looked in his clothes.

After a moment he leaned forward and grabbed you by your sides, pulling you in close, so that your chests were flushed together. You giggled a little bit at the sudden motion, burying your face into his chest. He rested his head on yours, wrapping his arms tightly around you. “ Mine. Mine mine mine. “ He said, happiness lacing his voice. “My handsome, adorable, perfect boy. “ He hummed softly.

You giggled a little bit as his grip only got tighter. “ Lo! “ You squealed, “ let me go!” You giggled softly, wiggling in his grasp a little bit. He sighed and reluctantly let you go, staring down at you.

“C'mon sweetheart, let's get you some breakfast. “

[mattysketchup]

what are the chances. (pt.2)

fem!reader x brothers bsf!matt

a/n: ahhh tysm for the support on part one of this series, don't b shy y'all send in some requests:)) y'all don't care but i have tryouts for vb in a week and my jump floats SUCK. please help.

warnings: suggestive content, swearing, underage drinking, mentions of alcohol, smut, protected p in v, matt is a perv lowk, text messages, not proofread !!

(masterlist) (pt.1) (pt.3)

➽──────────────❥

your eyes fluttered open as you stirred awake. you felt something on your chest, only to look down and see it was matt. you forgot he wouldn't shut up untilhe slept like this. you attempt to grab your phone without waking him, but he groans as he wakes up. "y/n? what are you- why am i laying here?" he babbles, obviously not having any memories from last night. "do you not remember?" you ask, and he shakes his head. "you had wayyy too much to drink and would not go to sleep unless it was here with me, and your brother didn't want you to throw up on him so i was kinda forced to." he slightly chuckles at his ignorance from last night. "oh shit...sorry 'bout that. i guess that explains my pounding headache" he mumbles.

"guys wake up!" nick says, unzipping your tent to see you and matt basically cuddling. "what-whats going on here?" he says, hiding a grin. "nothing nick, shut the fuck up" matt responds, getting off your chest. "sure...anyways, hurry and get ready hornballs" he says, walking away. you purse your lips into a smile as you and matt get up and out of the tent. everyones eyes are on you as walk out.

"me, nathan, and chris are going fishing, you wanna join?" jimmy says to matt. "uhh no thanks, i'll stay here with y/n, celeste, and nick" he says. your mom and marylou had already left for a walk so that just left you, celeste, nick, and matt.

you all sit in a bigger tent, no one saying anything, just sitting on their phones. "ugh i'm bored" nick groans as he tosses his phone to the side. his eyes slightly light up as a smug grin plays at his face. "hey y/n, why were you and matt literally cuddling when i came to wake you guys up?" after he says those words, my eyes shoot to matts. we share a look as i stutter to try and explain myself. "well, you see" i sigh as i begin. "matt just was really tired and i was asleep and i gues we just woke up like that, i don't really know" nick looks at me with a confused look. "sure, if you say so" he says as we go back to our phones.

the day basically passes us by as we find ourselves sitting around the campfire once again. we're all just talking and cracking jokes around a campfire, and it truly is just a night you won't forget. it's the same routine as last night; the parents go to sleep, which just leaves us. celeste is to my right as she sends me a text. i open the text, sighing as she's right next to me.

| celestey👅

yo i got an idea, distract the boys

we're getting fucking wasted tonight.

my heart races as i read that message. i don't question how shes gonna do it, i just simply try to talk to the boys. they're already talking about some old memories so it won't be hard to distract them any further. it's not too late yet, but i try to stall for as long as possible befroe they decide to go to sleep. from the corner of my eye, i see celeste grab about six drinks from the cooler beside her, now it makes sense why she wanted to sit here with me. she hides them in her shirt and gets up.

"my stomach's lowkey hurting," she looks at me dead in the eyes like she's waiting for me to say something. "hey y/n don't you have tylenol in your purse?" she asks you that, knowing you don't. you knew what she was up to so you decided to play along. "oh...oh yeah i do! it's in the tent, give us a second" i say, walking to the tent with celeste. we giggle as we hide in there and zip the door shut. "drink up hoe" she says, handing me three white claws. "woah, celeste c'mon" i chuckle, quietly opening the drink and taking some small sips. celeste however, is almost on her third. "bitch chug!" she giggles as i shotgun the rest of the drinks. we finish the last ones and hide the cans underneath a bag to my right.

we stumble out of the tent, the alcohol starting to take a small toll on us. "celeste, feelin' better?" chris asks as we sit back down. "yeah no i'm good" she says. "imma sleep, we're goin' on a hike tomorrow i need some rest" nate says as he walks over to the tent. the boys have started to settle down, but now it's just you and celeste incoherently babbling about nothing in particular.

"heyyy matt" you say, breaking the silence. "can you pleaseee let me have a white claw?" you batt your lashes innocently. "i- y/n, you know i'm not supposed to let you do that" he says with a sympathetic look. "pleaseee" you drag the word out in some hope he would agree. chris and nick both look at matt, hoping how would make the right decision. "sorry y/n but no" he sighs. "ugh fineee" you whine.

you and celeste, in your now drunken state, were just getting up and dancing for no apparent reason. matt loved the way you moved your body, it just made his situation in his pants much worse. once you were sat back down, he mumbled in your ear, "you have no clue what you're doin' to me doll." a smirk toys at your face. nick, celeste, nate, and chris have already went to their own tents, leaving you and matt by the campfire.

you and celeste had secretly shared two more beers before going to sleep, the alcohol hitting your body like a ton of bricks. matt had enough of the teasing, and he pulled you into the tent. although no one was outside, he still wanted some privacy. the two of you sit in the tent, not really doing anything.

"mattt" you whine. "yes doll?" he responds. you're too lazy and drunk to acknowledge the pet name, you just roll with it. "has anyone told you you're pretty? like sooo pretty?" you say, laying your head on his chest. "ah thank you y/n" he responds. "like...i think you're really...fuckable" you giggle. "oh yeah?" he says. you can feel a familiar heat growing between your legs; one you've only felt with matt. "you wanna see if that's true?" you smirk as you nod. "words, doll." he demands. "y-yes i do" you stutter, as he toys with the hem of your shirt. "you're okay with this, right?" he asks. "yeah" you breathe out.

sooner then later both of your clothes are discarded on the floor, the smell of desperation and lust filling the air. matt is hovering above you, admiring your face. "p-please" you mutter. "please what, hm?" he asks, knowing damn well what you were pleading for. "i need you matt." you say. he reaches over to his bag and grabs out a condom, sliding it over his cock. he grins as he caresses your inner thigh.

he pulls your lips into a hungry and passionate kiss as he places his tip against your entrance. he slowly slides himself in, but only the tip. just to tease you. "mmphh...matt please don't tease" you whimper. he chuckles as he slams himself into you with a passion. he speeds up as you toss your head back, moaning. he puts his hand against your mouth in an attempt to silence you. "shh baby...your brother doesn't need to hear how good i'm making you feel, he'd kill me" he says as you nod in agreement, hushing your moans. his thrusts begin to get more sloppy as he signals he's close to finishing. "fuckkk" he groans as he finishes in the condom. he flops over top of you as you giggle.

he cleans up and helps you get your clothes on as the two of you go back to cuddling. matt welcomes you in his arms as his phone gets a notification. he checks it to see a text from chris which he reads aloud;

| chris

omg you and y/n better stfu rn bitch im trying to sleep

you and matt both giggle as he apologizes through text. the two of you sit in a comforting silence as you slowly drift off to sleep, matt playing with your hair.

➽──────────────❥

to be continued...

tags: @lolastrniolo

a/n: guysss there will be more parts but pls be patient with me, im going to toronto this week for the eras tour !!! i will be less active and i do apologize for that:(( please don't be a silent reader! comment to be apart of the taglist:)

[flowershines]

Aching Touch

Bf Sunghoon x F. Reader (smut)

summary: character has been out doing something for a couple of months and as soon as he sees the reader again he is brought with joy and wanting more. (touch starved)

warnings: smut, touch starved (m), mention of nudes, unprotected sex, nicknames, switch Sunghoon, not proof read, Jake gets hard to reader

Going on a trip with your family was the most funnest thing you have done in a while, actually spending time with your family and not being attached ot Sunghoon’s side 24/7 was nice. Don’t get me wrong you both loved each other very much and made it known in various ways but sometimes you both need a break from each other. But this break was too long, a month.

A month without seeing you boyfriend was very hard and painful the bed always felt empty you had a hard time falling asleep as he would usually talk about his day and rub your back till you fell asleep, along with you couldn't wear any of his clothes and during the winter in New York was the coldest you think you have ever been, your family visited New York very rarely they usually always invited you but most of the time you were busy but this time you arranges everything so that way you would be able to go this year.

You always texted Sunghoon everyday along with sometimes a facetime or call, one time you were at the bar with your cousin and Sunghoon had called you as you were ordering your drink, you could barely hear a word he was saying so you stepped aside by the bathrooms, talking about each other's day moans and groans were heard from the bathrooms not even a minute later a drunken couple comes out of the bathroom all giggly and stumbling over each step they take, rolling your eyes you continued talking with him on the phone.

Damn, you missed the way he would fuck you.

Another time when you were on the phone with him he was playing a video game and complaining how Jake and Niki were teaming up on him and killing him, you could hear him whining from being killed behind the screen. He then started breathing heavily and he would gasp every so lightly into the speaker of the phone, which would proceed to him screaming on how he died, you missed the way he would sound like that while fucking you.

You were wondering if you were the only one thinking of these things about your boyfriend. You knew you were not because your boyfriend was the king of neediness, he would whine when you didn't give him attention, beg you to make him food for him, and others. He would always get treated like a princess.

Today you had facetimed him as soon as you got out of the shower your hair was still soaking wet but this would be the only time you would be able to call him as your schedule for today was packed and you were getting ready so i thought, why not call my boyfriend while i'm doing everything instead of just listening to music.

Seeing the screen say connecting you were not expecting to see him undoing his belt and to be met with his dick being very prominent through his jeans, being so taken aback you just stared at the camera not saying anything meanwhile your boyfriend was loving the reaction you were giving him. He thought if you missed him so much he had to give you a reason to make you change your mind and book a flight back to Korea to see him now.

Sunghoon’s POV:

Staring at pictures of my girlfriend isn't doing much for me, I miss her so much I kept trying to entertain myself with things around the dorm and play video games against the members even though everything I ended up losing was a good distraction to keep my mind off of Y/n.

Everytime she called or I called her it just made me miss her even more. This month has felt like hell the next time she tries to leave me for some trip for this long. I'm either going with her or she's not going because I even know that she hates this as well.

The only things i could think about was her and her body…

her lips…

her touch…

her pussy.

Laying my head on my pillow I fan my fingers through my hair as my cock twitched against my pants from anticipation of her touching me, ever since she left, I haven’t been able to cum. My hand just doesn’t compare to her touch anymore, and she knows that.

Like just last week I was at practice with the members when I got a text, hearing the personalized ringtone I knew it was Y/n. Pausing what I was doing and going to my phone, Jake wanted for me to say ‘hi’ to her as well as he came to my bag with me. Grabbing my phone saw that she sent a picture opening it from the lock screen I was looking at a video of her touching herself, Jake still looking at my shoulder pissed me off because he was looking at what was mine not to mention him clearly enjoying watching it too.

His eyes were wide turning to the side to see him he had a raging boner through his sweatpants, “I’m sorry Hoon, i didn’t know you guys were doing that and i just don’t want you to think-” he rabbled trying to explain himself I just looked that him and told him, “Jake it’s ok it wasn’t your fault i didn’t even know she was going to send me something like that.” His gaze softened as he knew he wasn’t going to be in trouble with me. I knew it was either of our faults as we had no idea that was going to meet with our gaze.

Putting my phone back in my bag I hoped that nobody would pay attention to the hard state i was in, Jake on the other hand ended up going to the bathrooms. I knew nothing would happen even if i tried so I just didn’t bother till in the middle of dancing to ‘Still Monster’ and my cock kept pulsing through my sweats, I had to excuse myself grabbing my phone and swiftly walked towards the bathrooms.

I pulled my sweatpants just low enough for my dick to shoot right up twitching from the cold air hitting it, I just looked at it wondering if I should even try to do something, till i was pulled out of my thoughts as it twitched slapping against my lower stomach. Slowly wrapping my dominant hand around it, wincing from the sudden sensation I pulled out my phone and pulled up the messages with Y/n.

Putting my phone back in my sweatpants pocket i looked at it annoyed, nothing I do is going to work. Walking out of the stall and going back into the practice room grabbing my bag telling the members that I didn’t feel well and was heading back to the dorms.

The dorms and the practice room were not that far as walking would be easier than getting a car to drive me there would be more work than needed, grabbing my sweatshirt I put it on, opening the door and heading out of hype’s building the whole walk I could keep my mind off of Y/n’s pussy and her body. She usually drives me crazy a lot but not this much being this far from her. I couldn't help it though, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket. I picked it up while looking at the lock screen.

Taking my shoes off at the door at our dorms I headed to my dorm room, walking through the empty halls the ache between my legs had gotten worse from the anticipation as I knew Y/n was not that far away. My heart started to beat faster by the minute just like how it did the first time that i had ever laid my eyes on her and just like the first time me and her ever had sex.

I lowered my pants down past my groan and started to run my finger along the tip spreading around the pre cum that was leaking from the tip.

3rd person POV:

Stepping out of the car as the driver had opened up the trunk for you to get your things he had helped you and brought them to the door, taking out your wallet you paid him then proceeded to enter your boyfriend’s dorm building. Taking off your shoes at the door and placing them next to his, the only pear of shoes there was his along with the members slippers that some of them would wear around the house.

Placing your purse on the counter you heard as agitated groan coming from down the hall to where your boyfriend’s room is, bringing your suitcase right behind you slowly opening the door just a crack you see your boyfriend with his plants just below his dick as his fingers ran across the veins. Clearing your throat a bit so that he notices that you were standing before him which made him look up with pleading eyes and stare at you as you walked over to him his arms opening up waiting for you to complete his hug.

He pulled you onto the bed with him laying on top of him as he rolled more towards the other side pulling you into his lap, you feel his hard dick rubbing up against your pussy. You couldn’t get enough of the stimulation as you continued to grind on him harder than before earning a shaky breath come from his mouth turning away from your face trying to see what you were doing.

He started to squirm underneath you but couldn’t keep his hands off of you at the same time, he wanted you so bad he couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving a train of kisses along your collarbone along with on your neck as well which resulted in him leaving a hickey just a centimeter away from you necklace that he had given you on your anniversary.

His hands made their way down to your ass as he ran his fingers along making shapes while his other hand made its way to your waistband of your skirt, he grabbed your cheeks with one hand and made you look at him in the eyes just before he placed his lips onto yours you could feel his desperation lingering on his lips. His fingers grazed along on your hair one of his fingers pushing your hair that had been covering your face to the side and putting it behind your ear proceeding to place his hand cupping your cheek.

Your hands made their way in between the two of you as you started to jerk him off and rubbing his tip along your clit, earning a moan from you both, his free hand moved from resting on you ass down to your panties sliding them over to the side and entering his middle finger into you. A moan escaped your mouth which gave him the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth as the fight for dominance was gone, he whispered sweet encouraging words into your ears the desperation and need was heard in every word he spoke.

“Please Y/n, been needing you so bad.” He mumbled as his mouth was occupied by already kissing your neck, “Do what you want to me.” you didn’t have to tell him twice his eyes widen at your choice of vulgar words. He moved your hand that was on his dick and moved it to placing it on his arm, he wrapped his hand around his cock and placed the tip directly at your entrance he looked up at you meeting your gaze. It was his way of asking for permission, you nodded your head already knowing what he was meaning but without speaking a word to one another.

Slowly entering you he huffed out slightly as his breath started to become more jagged, the lower you sank down on his cock the more impatient he became. His hips started to fuck up into you hitting all of the rights spots, his hands rested on you hips moving you up and down on him. Whines were heard which lightly fell from his lips his head was thrown back onto the pillow meanwhile his eyes were rolled back, his hands moving up to your boobs then moving back down to your waist then back then to your hips and occasionally would move down to your clit.

His hips kept shuttering while getting more sloppy and aggressive words of encouragement tickled your ears as they fell from his lips his lips trailing kisses and hickeys along your neck, “Baby i don’t know how much longer i can take, you feel so good.” He looked at you with doe eyes, “Let it out baby.” he looked displeased “But what about you?” “What about me?” he kissed your cheek and replied saying “You didn’t get to cum yet though.” you giggled “It wasn’t about me though i just wanted to make you feel good, baby.” “But what about-” you cut him off by kissing him on the lips to stop him from talking, “I’m fine Hoonie.” “Then next time it’s all about you.” you nodded speeding up your pace as his thrusts became more powerful and stronger.

“I’m gonna- gon-” his words fell from his lips as his teeth chattered from the powerful sensation. The next thing you know his load was shooting up into you as his moans sounded like music to your ears, your favorite moans he would make was when he came. “Enjoy yourself?” “With you? Always.” He kissed your temple and pushed you back into the bed by his side putting himself back into his pants and cleaning you up, as he came back from the bathroom he grabbed you a blanket as you both fell asleep in each others arms.

[tearsonthemoons]

Kitchen dancing

Warnings: (none)

Prompt: Peeta’s been home alone all day, and struggling, to say the least. Once you get home to find him distressed, you try and comfort him in one of the few ways you know how.

Pairings: Peeta mellark x reader

As I walked up the path to our quaint cottage, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Peeta's had a rough day and been all alone ever since he was struggling this morning, I knew he needed me to come home. 

I quickened my pace, I was eager to be by his side and hopefully comfort him.

I approached my door, opening it, I heard soft sobs coming from our kitchen. My heart immediately broke, knowing that my usually strong and composed Peeta was in such emotional distress. I just want to hold onto him.

 I softly followed the sound, "Peeta?" I said, only to find him sitting at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands. I couldn't see him but, I knew he was crying.

Quickly I rushed to his side and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my embrace, I tried to hold him gently, all while he was doing the opposite, He clung to me, his body shaking with tears. I waited patiently, waiting for him to say something.

Then, Finally, he lifted his head and looked at me with red, puffy eyes. My heart was aching for him. "I keep remembering." he choked out, his voice was stuttered.

My heart hurt, Peeta will forever be in recovery of his trauma from the capitol, and to know he was alone today only made me feel worse. thinking about how much he probably needed me today, made my heart hurt.

I didn't know what else to do, I could feel his tears soaking my shirt.

I suddenly remembered last night, when we were dancing in our kitchen, his laughter echoing through the kitchen when we did. Maybe I could make him feel better.

I suddenly took his hand in mine and led him to the center of our kitchen. "Dance with me?" I said, trying to distract him from his thoughts.

Peeta looked at me with surprise, as I put on our record from last night. As I jokingly swayed back in his direction, a small smile appeared on his face. I was relieved to see it. He wrapped his arms around my waist, snuggling his head down into the crook of my neck as I slowly rested my head on his, my arms wrapped around him as we swayed to the music playing in the background.

We danced in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the comfort of each other's presence, I was humming the toon in his ear, hopefully the sound brought him a soft comfort. then, Peeta began to meet his eyes to mine. His red tear stained under eyes just stayed glued to mine for a moment as we swayed. He whispered, "I love you." before laying his head back into my shoulder. I used my hand to hold the back of his head gently. 

"I love you most." I said closing my eyes and enjoying him in my arms.

we would get through this together I thought to myself. I would do anything he needed.

we continued to dance, I could feel the tension in Peeta's body slowly melting away, His tears had stopped, he had started moving me at his pace now, giving me soft neck kisses and a few on my cheek as well.

 I knew that the simple act of dancing in our kitchen had helped to heal his wounded heart.

We danced until the music ended, then we just stood there, holding each other close, like a everlasting hug. No matter what day peeta had, he would always have me to hold onto.

"Are you tired?" I said sensing the tiredness from his body movements. "Can we lay together?" he said quietly, hands still wrapped around me. 

"Of course we can." As we headed to bed that night, I could see the relief in Peeta's eyes, I'm just happy to hold him now. I slipped under our cozy blanket, him following me, removing his shirt and pants for comfort. I could only admire him. I scooted closer to him, my hand was on his warm chest, my legs wrapped around his.

"Cozy?" he said putting his arms around my body, and caressing my hands with his other hand. "yes." I said closing my eyes, close to drifting off into deep sleep. 

the nights in our kitchen lingered in my mind, it can heal even the deepest wounds. And I was grateful to have Peeta by my side, dancing through life together.

[itsjusthockey]

45 Days - Jack Hughes Blurb

Here is a little blurb, hope you enjoy. Send in requests and message me. I love talking to you guys

wc: 1,317 (credit to gifmaker)

Part 2

“Jack, I swear to god.” You hiss, smacking your boyfriend away from your suitcase as he throws out the T-shirt you had nicely folded for the third time.

“What?” He yelps, stepping back to avoid your attack, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Seriously, J, take another step towards my bag, and I’m gonna lock you in the closet.” You fold the shirt again and stick it into the waiting suitcase.

You feel his burning stare on your back as you continue packing your things, both wishing desperately that you could delay the inevitable but knowing that no matter how much you hate it, your college life has to continue, and you have to leave.

You hear him softly sigh behind you, and you don’t have the heart to turn around, knowing his face will hold that pouty look that will make you miss your flight. Instead, you stay silent, packing your shirts and moving onto your pants.

After a minute or two in silence, you hear Jack shuffle behind you, moving toward his closet and rustling around for a few seconds before emerging back into the bedroom.

“Do you want to trade in?” He asks, holding out a couple of clothing items to you.

A small smile plays on your lips as you grab the new clothes and hand him back a few of his other clothes that had kept you comfortable for the month you were apart. It’s just a few things, which may be really cliche, but every time you’re together, you rotate them out because he knows it makes you feel better when you’re apart.

You stuff the remaining clothes into your already full suitcase and close it, but not before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist, interrupting your motion.

“I think I got it,” Jack says, scanning over your suitcase. “We get rid of the clothes, and with enough strategy, I think I could fit myself in here.”

Before he even finishes, laughter bursts from your lips. “Yeah, I’m sure TSA would love that.”

You turn to face him in his arms, and even though the idea is ridiculous, you wouldn’t put it past him to try to attempt it.

“J, it’s only for a month and a half; we’ve done worse.”

He shakes his head, “Why don’t you just cancel your flight? Stay a few more days.”

His offer is tempting, but you know that if you don’t leave today, you’ll never escape his hold.

“As much as I’d love that, some of us have school.” You tease, pushing your fingers through his hair, messing it up.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and pulls you further into his body.

“I hate that my girlfriend is so studious. Why did I get the one who resists my offer of skip days?”

You shove him away from you as he laughs, “You and I both know I have had too many skip days because of you. Besides, the sooner I go to school, the sooner I graduate.”

He smirks at your graduation statement and leans toward you. “And then?”

This time you smirk. “And then, I can find a really awesome boyfriend who doesn’t distract me from a flight that is supposed to leave in an hour.”

His face falls for not even a second before tackling you onto the bed and tickling your sides.

“What was that? Huh? Another boyfriend?” He says in between breaths while you’re shrieking with laughter, trying to push him off you.

After a minute of torture, he gives up and lays his entire weight on you, and you immediately relent and accept his love. He is always incredibly clingy during these times, but you’ll take all of it. So, you begin to rub his back and relish the feeling of being here with him, savoring the touch you’re about to go without for over a month.

“What am I gonna do without you?” Jack whispers after a minute, “I seriously don’t think I can do it.”

You think momentarily before you lift his face out of your neck, forcing him to look at you.

“Forty-five days, J, and then it’s summer. Then, you’ll be sick of me.”

He rolls his eyes and drops his head back down, mumbling, “I’m never sick of you,” into your neck.

“I know, but distance makes the heart grow fonder.” You try to joke.

He responds by snorting, lifting himself off of you, and pulling you up with him.

“How about this-“

“Jack, I can’t sta-“

“Shhhh (Y/N), just hear me out.”

You give him a pointed look and fold your arms before you, waiting for him to continue.

“We cancel your flight, you stay forever, and I provide for us.”

After about thirty more attempts to get you to stay, which include fake tears, Jack trying to get your flight canceled, your bags are packed in his Range Rover, and you're flying down the highway toward the airport. Neither of you speaks; instead, listen to your shared playlist and watch the city of New Jersey fly by.

As you turn onto the street that leads to the airport, you take a deep breath and try to steady your heavy heart as Jack throws the car in park and hops out.

You’re quick to follow as he pulls your bags out and sets them down in front of you, not daring to look into your eyes. It isn’t until you softly whisper his name that he finally looks at you.

“Forty-five days, J.” You pull him toward you, quickly kissing his cheek.

“I know; I’m already counting down.” He finally lets a small smile play on his lips.

You glance at your watch and see that time, quite literally, is running out, so you pull him back in one more time, connecting your lips.

You stay there for a second, and you feel him chase after your lips when you begin to pull away, and he grips your waist hard, not letting you move an inch.

“Jack, you gotta let me go.”

He does, nodding sadly and unwillingly kissing you once more for a goodbye. He watches as you quickly do a little bag check and make sure you have everything. Once you’re confident, you sling your bag over your head and flash him one last smile, turning toward the door and walking through it.

He watches as you walk through the door and away from him; his heart is taken with you. You turn one last time, waving and blowing a kiss in his direction. He catches it, puts it in his pocket, and gives you one last smile.

He watches until you disappear from sight, following your movements and wishing ever so slightly that your lives are different. He wishes you didn’t have school, he wishes he didn’t have hockey, and he wishes above else that you could be together. He shakes his head as if to shake away the thoughts and knows he’s taking up a busy parking space.

He is soon back in his car, driving home, and the world seems slightly less bright than before. It’s not long before he is home, and he sees that his apartment is way too empty for his liking. So he calls his teammates, and soon enough, he getting ready to meet them for dinner, anything to distract himself that you’re gone.

He begins to get ready, changing into a sweatshirt that you’d traded in, one of his favorites that now smells like you, and as if on cue, his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Try not to miss me too much, loser. I love you.

He smiles at the message, sends a snarky response back, and puts a very special timer on his phone. Forty-five days until he sees you again, and he’s counting down every second.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Thank you so much for the love I’ve gotten on this so far. I truly just write for myself so it’s nice to feel validated 🙌🏻

Smut

Friends to Lovers

Angst

I don’t own WWE characters, it’s all for fun

Not edited

Chapter Three | Where it all started…

3 Years Later…

Dom had made it to the big leagues, main events and Monday Night Raw. I couldn’t have been more proud of him until his story line turned my stomach into knots.

His new “Dirty Dom” heel turn had come with a new accessory named Rhea Riley. 

Not even storyline turns into the reality of dating but let’s be real: most of their time was going to be spent together with virtually no time at home. I was stupid enough to think she didn’t want him by the way she gleamed at him.

Every part of me was jealous when he called her Mami and the next day all his merch said it again for the encore. Their tension felt real but I wasn’t sure how much of it I had glorified.

I was visiting Dom for a few days, sharing hotel rooms and going to his live events even though it hurt. That was when I met Randy again, only this time he was divorced and single.

It was a welcomed distraction from every social post and monologue being about his new on screen fling. WWE had been laying it on thick and I had no idea why it was bleeding into their personal lives unlike any other time.

Dom even got scolded for posting a silly photo of us because it ruined the facade. 

I kept it from Dom the whole time I was there visiting because I hurt him enough for a life time. I deserved feeling jealous this time.

Dom rushed towards me, picking me up into his arms and spinning me around. “Did you see it? I fucking flew!” 

My arms wrapped around his neck without thinking, “You won. Congrats.”

Placing me down gently he knew something was wrong when he dragged me back to his dressing room before asking. Boxing me against the door his eyes got dark, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

“We aren’t leaving until you spill.” He still didn’t give anymore room between us than what was already there.

“I’m late and I’m tired. I’ll just Uber back to the hotel and meet you at the airport?” It was the last stop before we flew home for Raw next Monday. I was honestly excited to get back home and back to my routine. Less of his fake relationship thrown in my face.

Taking shelter in a dressing room, the air was thick and I couldn’t get out my words without admitting I love my best friend. Fighting my zipper Dom leaned again the doorframe to the bedroom.

He licked his lips, “You horny or something? I know we have a pact to not cross those lines again, but hermosa if you need me.” 

“Why do you call her Mami?” I bluntly asked.

“I don’t write my scenes, babe. I have zero control over that. Is that what’s wrong?”

“You called me Mami the first time we had sex,” I whispered. “Every time you said it to her…” I didn’t know how to rationalize it or even speak on it yet.

Dom’s hands skated down my sides and landed on my hips. “What happens baby? What happens when I say Mami?”

Pushing his hands off me I flooded the room, pacing lightly trying to find the words. “A lot. I’m jealous, I’m turned on, I’m confused. I don’t know what to do, Dom.”

Ripping his sweaty shirt off he followed me, dragging my hips back to his. “Dom. We can’t. I can’t.”

Dropping his hands from my body so quickly felt like a diss. “Right. I’ve heard it all before. I was good enough to fuck you the first time tho, right?”

Dom was never cruel and I couldn’t believe it as it unfolded.

“You’re my best friend.” I twisted around to face him before sitting on the couch in his dressing room. 

His hands on the back of the couch he fell into me, his knee between my legs and his mouth so close I felt the hot breath against me. “I fucked you until there was blood on my sheets. I stood by while every asshole fucked you instead of me. Fuck, mi amore, I’m still fucking my hand every night because I need you.”

“I can’t fuck you, Dom.”

His hands shoved its way between my legs and found my wet panties quickly. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t rip your wet panties off?” His hands found the strings of my thong before yanking them down my legs.

“Because you’re gonna hate me and I can’t want you until you know.”

Undoing his belt he twisted me over, on all fours and the wetness practically dropped down my inner thigh. I needed Dom so badly I didn’t care. My mouth muffled by my own forearm I couldn’t talk myself out of letting him anymore.

Shoving himself between my legs I nearly gasped, holding my breath and biting down on my own skin.

“Oh my god, Dom.” His chest caved over my back and begged me to scream. “Ohhh fuck.”

“That’s it, baby. So fucking tight. You needed this, didn’t you? so fucking wet for me.” 

I had lost my mind with him inside me, writhing in ecstasy like he knew my body better than I did when his brutal thrusts hit against my ass hard. “Dom. Dom, slower, slower.”

Taking the hint he slowed down, taking him time and punishing us both with long movements. Every time he filled me I felt myself come all over him.

“Tell me why I’m gonna hate you.”

Luckily I was saved by his team mates, the ones he fought with and was always with. “Dom we gotta do some after shots. You ready?” They all stopped dead in their tracks staring at Dom pounding me from the back. 

“Goddamnit. Get out.”

After being frozen long enough they vacated the locker room they clearly all shared.

Hiding my face on the couch I bite down on my own lips to keep from moaning too loudly. “I’m gonna come. Dominik.”

“Say my name baby. I wanna hear you moan it.” 

I could feel his hands tighten and knew he was close when I grabbed onto his hands. “I’m not on birth control. Dom, you can't.”

I had already had one abortion and couldn’t survive another. 

Making me come he pushed himself inside of me until I felt him jerk against my tightness. “Dom! I’m not on anything. I can’t get pregnant.”

Kissing my shoulder he whispered, “it’s not the worst thing in the world. Rather have a baby with my best friend than anyone else.”

Pushing him off me I panicked. “I can’t have another abortion. You don’t understand.”

Tucking himself back into his undone pants his features wrinkled. “You had an abortion? Who the fuck got you pregnant? When?”

“We were babies, Dom don’t be mad. I couldn’t tell you.” Pulling down my dress and trying so hard to not cry.

“Fucking Blaine? You almost had his kid?”

“Dom.” I said sternly, waiting for him to realize. “It wasn’t Blaine.”

Pushing his hands through his hair he stared at me pissed the fuck off. Everything about my face begged for his pity. “You fucking got pregnant? We had sex one time. How?”

The hot stream of tears ran down my face. “We didn’t use a condom, Dom. I came so many times. It was my first time too, I didn’t think I would get pregnant. Your mom promised to keep it a secret until I was ready to tell you.”

“My fucking mom kept your secret? We could have been together. You didn’t even bother telling me.”

He exploded with anger, trashing the locker room and shouting profanities. I had never seen Dom so angry before. 

Rhea, his on screen girlfriend, and his team mates came crashing through the door for a second time like they were listening outside the door but Dom didn’t care. He got so close to my face I actually winced. “You fucking got pregnant and decided not to tell me? But you’re worried if I’m fucking Rhea? You fucking got rid of our baby.”

“We were seventeen, Dom! Babies, we couldn’t have a baby. No one gets pregnant the first time they have sex.”

“But we did, didn’t we? Say it. I wanna hear you say it.” His hand clutched around my jaw, holding my gaze and forcing eye contact. “Say it.”

The tears turned into globs and scarred my face when my mouth fell open but no words came out. “Dom. Don’t.”

I flinched at the closeness when he pushed his face even further into mine. Nearly growling the words, “Fucking. Say. It.” 

“I couldn’t be a mom then. I couldn’t be a wife. We were supposed to be the people who got pregnant the first time. I’m sorry I had the abortion but it had to happen.”

His grip on my face let up and Rhea called his name. “Priest has a match, you coming?”

Shaking off our argument I finally exhaled when he followed her lead. “You’re fucking lucky. You made the wrong choice.”

Dropping down to the couch again I sobbed into my hands contemplating every big moment we had. Dom was every first, every big moment. He was my best friend and I kept the worst secret from him. I felt like a monster.

Priest and Finn appeared on the TV set to fight his dad, Rey, and Randy Orton. I watched trying to compose myself as I left the room. Everyone probably heard and I knew my cheeks would flare up red instantly. 

Making my way to the viewing area I stood in the back watching Dom frantically force his way into the match. His attempts were successful when everyone passed out except his father, Rey. Climbing into the ring, he stood in front of his dad holding a mic.

“What’s wrong? Afraid I’ve outlived the legend.” He toyed with his father like a predator. 

His dad waved his hands and Dom attacked him before dragging Finn over his body for a three count winning his stable the fight. “That’s what you get for being a deadbeat dad. Don’t fuck with my family.”

I knew where this came from when everyone backstage scrambled to plan around Dom going off script. None of this was planned and WWE just landed on a gem of a feud. Father and son against each other.

Dom breezed by me, bandana still over his face and sunglasses still on. Whatever we had been through before was about to get worse. There was no going back now. The damage was done.

Reaching out I tried to make him hear me when he put his arm around Rhea, walking away the way he knew would hurt the most. 

That night I went to the airport by myself, not seeing Dom at all. His things were still a mess around the hotel room. We had the same flight home and I dredged it entirely. Our seats were next to each other and I had no idea how we would make a flight over six hours home. 

I hadn’t seen Dom and decided he changed his flight when I boarded the flight by myself. Holding my duffle bag I slipped inside my seat, digging out my head phones and closing out the world. 

Clamping my eyes down I begged for sleep but I knew better. My racing heart wasn’t going to let up more than ever. The seat next to me wrinkled as I scrolled through playlists to find the right song when I glanced over to see Dom stretching out in our first class seats.

Picking any song I turned it up hoping he wouldn’t try to speak to me anyways. It was three hours into our flight when I finally got his attention. 

I had to scoot by him and that wasn’t going to be easy with his long legs spread out and his hat over his face. “Dom,” I nudged him a couple of times before he woke up.

“If you aren’t waking me up to get you pregnant so you can rectify this problem then I don’t want to hear it.” He crossed his arms tighter and didn’t bother to open his eyes. 

Dom wasn’t going to let up anytime soon and I had to deal with that. I just handed him a bomb before we went back home to California where we were both expected to stay with his parents. Now it felt like I had lost both Dom and the family I had.

“Then what happens, Dom? I got pregnant and what? We raise the baby as best friends? You quit the WWE? You pretend we don’t exist because as far as fans are concerned you’re with Rhea? We were young. Neither of us were ready for that kind of responsibility.” I whispered between us unlike him. 

Pushing his headphones down to his neck and sitting straighter up he finally looked at me. “Yes. Whatever we had to do. Our age, our status, my career - none of it mattered in comparison. If you were pregnant I deserved to know. After we fucked, you were a bitch. Fucking every goddamn guy who took you out, sneaking out, avoiding me, acting like nothing happened. I got you pregnant and you didn’t even bother to tell me. Now is there something you want to say?”

“You’re an asshole,” I spat out before pushing my way through his legs to go to the bathroom.

First class bathrooms were bigger, nicer but still an airplane bathroom. The knock was quiet but I ignored it. I needed time to regain composure before I had to face Dom again. Splashing water on my face carefully stepped out of the way when I realized it was Rhea and Dom flirting. 

It stung. Hell, it felt like a knife. 

Grabbing my hand he jerked me back, “just call it even.”

“You got it, Dominik.”

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): The Composer [28]

My favorite analogy to use in times of uncertainty comes from my dad. He once told me, "We're just two little frogs on a lone lily pad, floating down some hidden bayou in the swamps of New Orleans, Ducks. And that's okay, because at least we have each other."

It stuck with me throughout most of my life. When the depression was really rough, when the anxiety hit its peak, I'd scribble that line in notebooks. In pencil on my walls, erase the words when I felt whole again. Etch it onto my arm in pen, then scrub away at my skin for hours in the shower that same night.

For that reason, I feel like we can attach ourselves not only to people, but to words too. Which is why I find myself debating going and writing those words again and again and again in the emptiness of my apartment.

The week leading up to Ash's departure to Anaheim flew by. She and I unpacked, organized, and lazed about our home without seeing Sal, Larry, Todd, or Neil all that much.

That was fine, she and I preferred to figure things out on our own anyway.

The issue came with the moment Ash left in the early morning on Friday, after we'd had Sal and Larry over the night before.

I was left to my own devices, which meant all I could do was think about how much I've been drowning in myself. For months.

What's weighed on me most is Sal. I was never supposed to like him— it was never supposed to be more than simple attraction. I feel like I've failed myself and dragged Sal into something he wants nothing to do with. Feeling this way seems so cruel. He's his own person, he has his own shit to deal with. Why did I let it get this far?

For the entire day, I've sat here and told myself— scolded myself— that I need to calm things down and I need to get over this. Not just for me, but for him. Situationships, friends with benefits... those types of things do not end in relationships. They don't turn into happily ever afters. Me and Sal are nothing alike— I wouldn't even dare consider a relationship but if my feelings go far enough, I just might start to.

There needs to be some separation for myself. I need to put some distance, but I just don't want to. I genuinely like being around him.

Oh, this is such a clusterfuck.

I lay on me and Ash's couch, staring out of the huge windows that lead to the balcony as the sun goes down. It's evening. The silence is loud around me, messes with my senses. I keep thinking I see things out of the corner of my eye and every creak or crack of people moving around above or below me sets my heart racing.

Ash informed me that she'd be back by tomorrow morning, which is fine. I streamed for a few hours, ate dinner, then did some shopping to snuff out my Sal-centered thoughts, and then the unsettling quiet. I just didn't realize how anxious I'd get about being here alone once the moon took the sun's place in the sky. 

It's not my first time being alone. When I lived with dad, I was alone most of the time. But this apartment is still unfamiliar to me. Being in a new place that doesn't quite feel like a home yet is perturbing. 

The sky grows a little too dark for my liking, so I grab the remote and turn on the TV, flinching when the volume startles me. Anything to suffocate the silence that lurks around the dark corners of this room though.

I glance over my shoulder, making eye contact with the dark hallway that looks back at me. Shadows dance around the edges of the vignette, mocking my fear. I'm worried that if I watch for too long, I may really see something staring back.

And I thought my tiny, barely there feelings for Sal were scary. All that needs to be done to reset my mind is put me in an empty room, I guess.

Turning my gaze back to the TV, I try to focus on The Crow. All the gothic notes and emotional aspects try to distract me... but I quickly learn that even my favorite movie and Brandon Lee's ethereal beauty can't steal me from reality.

I'm restless. I can't stay here a moment longer.

Sighing, I sit up and gaze at the hardwood floor. Dad's not home-- I could go back to my old apartment, but that's a fifteen minute drive. That's a last resort. I would go to Todd and Neil's, but they're over in San Francisco to watch Todd's favorite musical. 

That leaves me with Larry. 

Can I bear to be in Sal's presence with all the turmoil in my head? I don't know, but I can't figure it out until I try. Not to mention, knowing him, he'll be locked up in his room anyway.

Me and Sal's conversation last week made me feel a bit more secure. I know things can continue the way they have been and I don't have to worry about anything else, I just have to work on getting past exactly how much I feel now. The fact that we had to had to have that conversation at all is embarrassing-- even if he told me that it was okay. It feels so stupid to me now that it's all over. It feels even more ridiculous that I apparently haven't learned a thing and still want to put distance between us.

I stand up and grab my keys from the kitchen counter before shutting off the TV. Then, I'm out the front door like a bat out of hell. The quiet was overpowering me-- having such a big place is so eerie when it's just me.

In my diluted panic, I make it to Sal and Larry's apartment in record time-- hoping and praying that they'll let me stay.

I pick up my pace once I reach their floor, bounding up to the door and knocking. Each corner feels like it's leering, hiding evil that lurks everywhere I go. It's unbearable and I just can't be alone.

That, or maybe some depraved part of me just wants to Sal.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I tap my foot against the carpeted floor and try to pretend that I've got it together. I do anything to get rid of the adrenaline rushing through me. Readjust my mask, pick at invisible lint on my shirt, crack all of my fingers, look up and down both sides of the hallway stretching around me. It feels like I wait for hours even though it's merely seconds until the door opens.

My eyes snap upward, gazing into the eyeholes of Sal's prosthetic. He holds it against his face with a hand, the straps dangling at the sides. It's clear I've caught him off guard.

"Vi?" He asks, tone suggesting he's both confused and alert by my sudden presence. I watch him glance down the hallway the same way I just did. 

When he looks back at me, he has an eyebrow raised inquisitively. 

"Uh," I choke out, remembering that I kind of have to tell him why I'm here. "Is Larry here? I wanted to hang out. The, um, silence is... loud." I rush to explain myself, knowing full well that I don't have to explain myself to anyone.

But Sal looks like he gets it though, his gaze softening in understanding as the words leave me. 

"Larry isn't here," He tells me forthright. My heart drops at the news. "He went to Anaheim with Ash. Didn't she tell you?"

I hum bashfully, embarrassed at myself and the circumstances as I shake my head.

"Sorry for bothering," I say with a sigh, trying to hype myself up to brave the quietude and darkness.

A beat of tense silence passes between us as I build up the mental strength, already feeling like I'm rotting in the lonely apartment back upstairs. 

Then, Sal mutters, "You can stay if you want, so long as you don't mind me practicing. And don't make me regret inviting you in."

I watch him watch me, both of us hesitant and unsure. But what's more unbearable than being around him (which hasn't been all too bad lately) is being alone.

I clear my throat lightly then look down at my feet, nodding. "Okay, thanks."

I may come to regret this.

Sal leads me into the apartment, his slightly taller figure blurring as I take in the living room and kitchen I helped unpack just a week ago now. To replace all the boxes and uncertainty is a kind of clean organization that I just know Larry had nothing to do with.

Sal spruced up. It's orderly, uncluttered, and so him. It works because Larry isn't much different.

The climbing living room walls have various band, tour, and festival posters, records, guitars, a bass, signed drum covers. It's a metal-head's dream. There's just a little touch that screams 'this-is-the-house-of-a-streamer,' which happens to be the multi-colored LED's on the ceiling. But I'll give them a pass for that one.

Regardless, it's nice. And the kitchen, while not completely decked out, is doctor's office-level pristine.

I purse my lips, feeling a little apprehensive. This might be the first time Sal and I have been in each other's presence without a plan for sex or something related to it. We're just... hanging out. It's weird, but I'm desperate enough to put up with it at this point. 

Sal's out of my way already, settled on one of the black sofa's with his flashy red guitar nestled on his lap and a laptop in front of him. Oh, and the prosthetic is gone.

My eyes train onto his pretty face. With all of this moving, I've hardly been able to see it. As crazy as it is, it's kind of been killing me. This recent revelation of mine has led to this insatiable urge to look at him constantly. I thought it was bad before, when this was all just a meaningless crush, but now...

I swallow past my raging thoughts. I've had enough to think about today.

Following Sal's lead, I plop down onto the adjacent, larger sofa-- right in the middle of it. I stare at the dark television and subtly gaze around the room in search of a remote. I'll be damned if I sit here with him in silence like this. Once again, I would much rather hot box in a car full of Larry's tamale farts.

Sal's head tilts upward in my peripheral so I look at him. He looks at me, his azure eyes surveying me before leaning over to a little table between the sofa's. He grabs a remote, then an Xbox controller and tosses them to me.

"You can play something if you want. Just switch to HDMI 2," he offers, turning his attention back to his guitar, strumming a quiet note. His brows furrow and he bites down on his bottom lip, shakes his head lightly. Those hypnotizing cerulean locks fall past his shoulders and shield his handsome face from me. His hair has grown in the past few months, hanging at least an inch past his shoulder by now--

--and that is not the point of why I'm here.

I murmur a quick thanks and lean over to grab the controllers, switching on the TV and finding my way to Sal and Larry's shared console.

There's a selection of games on here, some I've played, others that are on my TBP list (like TBR, but instead of to-be-read, it's to-be-played).

I hover around the Resident Evil 4 remake. For the past few weeks, I've been telling myself I'm saving up for it. I brought it up to Ash a couple days ago and she gave me a funny look then proceeded to remind me that, with my streaming career, I have around $4,000 in my bank account right now. I don't need to save for once, I can just get it.

Except I panicked and said I have to keep all my money in case of an emergency... so having disposable income is still new to me and I have no idea how to handle it.

I click on the game, biting down the excited grin that tries to build on my face.

I start a new game and nearly crap myself, doing my fangirl job by raving over the updated graphics and Leon's lore-accurate hair color.

For about an hour, Sal and I don't even spare glances at each other. It's nice, chill-- just two... acquaintances... in each other's presence without having to talk to enjoy their company. I play RE4 and he strums away on his guitar. A couple times, I become entranced by the melody he plays. Each time he plays longer, it starts to come together. Around the second time he played more than a couple notes, I realized he was composing. Creating a tune. Whatever you want to call it. 

While a musician myself, I've mostly worked on covers of songs. I've only tried to write my own music a couple times and even then, I realized it was tough work. Watching Sal now-- how long it takes him to come up with all the notes and lengths for just one chord-- I do not envy him, but I do admire him. He's putting a lot of work into it, clicking away on his laptop when he finds something he likes.

Each second of him working on his music steals me away from my game though. I start getting antsy, missing infected people even if they're right in front of me in the game. Hell, I walked Leon into a wall two minutes ago.

I grit my teeth as I navigate through the village, heart beating out of my chest with every corner I turn because a horde of zombies is going to be on me any second now.

I need to be prepared, need to get all of these questions out of my head.

"You're making a song?" I ask Sal, staring at the screen in front of me with my knees pulled up to my chest.

Sal hums in acknowledgment, distracted by whatever he's messing with on the computer. "Yea. Has to do with that Twitter leak." His voice is soft, hoarse. I'm shocked he even answered me with how focused he is.

Ah, yea. That leak. Ash and I didn't hear from Sal or Larry for two days after they rushed out of our apartment. When they finally popped up yesterday to help us with some more unpacking, they briefly mentioned something about 'damage control' and 'whistleblowing bastards.' Don't know how that has anything to do with whistleblowing, but those were Larry's words, of course.

I nod lightly, dragging Leon to a ladder. "I take it you don't want to give me the drama on that leak?" I guess, stealing a glance his way. Damn his pretty hair and equally as pretty face.

As I'm glancing, he shrugs, bright eyes darting across his laptop. The color of his irises is enhanced by the blue light of the screen-- I hate him. "There's not much drama to give," he murmurs, clicking on something. Then, he sits back, his eyes snapping to me. "The leak was the bridge to this song. I've been fixing it up and messing around with it. I had a producer with me a couple weeks ago, he took a picture of my screen. The back of my head was in it and it inevitably got out. What are people supposed to think when this is the title?"

He flips the laptop to me and I lean forward, squinting my eyes to look at the screen. There's a lot of graphing and multicolored lines that look overwhelming as hell-- but I focus in on the bold words at the top of all the mess. "DAC COLLAB."

I pinch my lips together in a guilty smile. "Ah, so that's the mess. That fucking sucks," I tell him as he pulls the laptop back to him.

Tongue in cheek, he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'whatever.' He at least seems unbothered by the whole thing now. "It is what it is. It's going to be released at some point anyway. North was going to make an announcement next month when we'd made a little more progress. Damn asshole at that studio just did the job for us, I guess." He seethes a bit on the last sentence, brows pinching together. 

I hum contemplatively, eyes trailing over his hands as they press into his guitar before I look back at my game. "I wouldn't let it bother you too much. You still get to make the song, still profit from it."

A tiny grin pulls at Sal's lips. "True," he says nonchalantly. 

Silence builds around us, our conversation having fallen off rather than ending. We're still learning. Awkward moments have to come along here and there.

Doesn't stop me from getting killed within the following moments though. I'm so stressed about making things work with him and me... I shouldn't have started the damn game. 

"I'll make you a deal," Sal suddenly pipes up when I get mauled a second time.

Growling frustratedly to myself, I pause the game and turn to him, waiting for him to continue.

He shakes his hair out of his face, letting me see all of him. He sets his elbows on his knees, showing off the veins in his forearms and the map of tattoos that trail up his skin just to disappear beneath the sleeves of his shirt. 

I take a fortifying breath.

"Come listen to this and I'll help you past this part." He juts his chin toward the TV before looking back at me.

I shrug. Why not?

"Okay," I accept his proposal, scooting down the sofa toward where he is. His tattooed fingers type away on the keyboard before he turns the laptop so we can both see the screen.

"My taste is a little harder than what Dark Autumn Complex usually puts out, but I think we're getting somewhere," he tells me and for a moment, I wonder why he's trying to explain the music to me before I've even heard it. Is he nervous?

I simply nod my head. If I say something, he may get even more freaked out. I'm fighting for my spot on earth right now, man.

He presses the space bar then leans back, letting me listen.

I flinch when I hear the opening-- he wasn't kidding. It's similar to what the band usually does, but there's something sinister and death-metal-ish about the instrumentals. Sal seems to have a lot of control over the sound here. The double electric guitar, and heavy bass from a literal bass but drums too says enough. It's veering off the path that DAC usually takes.

Just because it's a little different doesn't mean it isn't damn good though. It's really good. Sal's cooking up a five course meal on his laptop here.

"Life slips by In the blink of an eye, Dripping through the gaps In my hand which saps This eternal time lapse Of brutality.

Prophesy each of my regrets; My mistakes chosen by the oracle. A fool making bets With possibilities so rhetorical."

I grin at the lyrics, at the sound, everything. I look over at Sal and he has a little smile on his face too, his expression so heavenly when his eyes meet mine. 

"This is--" I start to say, but Sal cuts me off.

"Shut up. Listen," he whispers. So I do.

"An artist of malice-- My muse of persuasion. Drink from my crimson chalice, Submit to the composer's pervasion.

Aren't we friends? This anguish and me. Gaze through the rose-tinted lens, Ignore the razor blade's sharp plea."

I blink, the smile falling from my lips in record time. Just days ago, Sal asked me that question. 'Aren't we friends?' There have been so many coincidences with this band. So many, in fact, that I genuinely thought Sal and North were the same person at one time.

There's more to this than what I've been told.

"You work close with them, don't you?" I ask, tuning out the rest of the song for now. If he tries to shut me up again, I'll shove a finger down his throat.

Sal doesn't look at me as he chews on the inside of his cheek. And-- wait... is he... blushing?

"Caught that, huh?" He asks, pausing the song but still refusing to look at me.

My eyes widen at his admission. "What exactly do you do with them?" I ask quickly, leaning back a little bit as a thousand and one theories pop into my head. Is he going to tell me that he is North? That he's been hiding behind that name all this time?

And if he is, would I finally tell him that I'm Lexi? 

If North is Sal, a lot of things are going to change.

Sal's tongue swipes along his bottom lip. "I write every single one of their songs," he says, nodding to himself. "They put it together, make music with it."

Oh. I got ahead of myself again.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as my body suddenly grows warm with shame. It's time I put that theory to rest. 

I furrow my brows though, thinking back on the lyrics. "Look," I start warily, "I don't want to seem full of myself or crazy or anything, but I swear--"

Sal shakes his head, his dimple forming on his cheek as a bashful smile grows on his lips. "You're not crazy. I hate that you correlated it, but... there are a few lyrics inspired by some of our interactions. When things make an impact on me, I usually incorporate them into my songs." Now it's my turn to blush. I need a moment to process, but, fuck, Sal keeps going. "For example, 'Wherein Christine Daaè Becomes Her Own Phantom' is about Ash. And then a couple lines in some other songs, like the one you heard in this one and 'Falling through like fingers in fishnets---' those were about you."

I gape at him. This genius made of multitudes and art and misery and physics. I don't know what to say, so I stupidly spit out, "Ash has an entire song about her? You gonna write one about me?"

As soon as the words come out, I narrow my eyes and internally scold myself. Not the time to joke, y/n. Not at all.

Sal strums a note on his guitar, in a completely different world as he mumbles, "Who says I haven't already?"

My head snaps to him and a full on, rainbow infested panic attack starts up. He was so serious, ditched all of his reservations when he said that.

At my silence, Sal glances up inquisitively. He takes one look at my face and his eyes widen a fraction. "I'm joking. You aren't that important for me to write a whole song about. Don't take it so seriously."

Do I snap at him for that or feel relieved?

I choose to glare at him instead and switch the subject. "North has a really nice voice," I say a bit too cheerily. Sal notices and I watch him stifle a petty laugh. "It's very melodic, goes well with the band's sound."

"Don't tell him that," Sal snorts, something a bit bitter taking the place of his previous amusement. "His ego's already huge as is."

Ash had some serious heat on North, and now Sal's looking like he has some not-so-good opinions too. Is North really so shady? What is it that everyone's so on edge about?

I recall the time Ash went on a rampage about North incessantly flirting with me and how she mentioned that he isn't exactly known for being in relationships, that he may not be what he portrays himself as.

Sal seems to be pretty open tonight. Maybe I can finally start to understand what the issue is.

I open my mouth but fail to get a word out. I contemplate saying anything at all, nerves consuming me at the prospect. But North isn't here, it's not like he's going to find out we talked about him.

"Is he really..." I start softly. "Ash hinted that he may not be the best person?" I settle on, peeking at Sal through my lashes.

Sal watches me, eyebrows drawing together and jaw working as he searches for what to say. I wait patiently, happy that he's at least thinking about answering me.

"Are you considering cutting off our arrangement to be with him?" He asks genuinely, nothing but seriousness portrayed in his expression.

All the air leaves my body. I hadn't thought about ending things with Sal for that reason, not even once. Plus, North and I haven't talked in a while. After Ash freaked out, I pretty much put the situation on the back burner. "No," I reply quietly. "It's just curiosity at this point."

Sal's expression softens and he blinks at me, holds me in his gaze before sighing heavily. "Everyone has their own shit to work through. He's no different. He has a lot of baggage though, lot of issues. He's told me a thousand times before that he doesn't think he'd be able to handle a relationship because of his problems." He pauses, grimacing as he fights for the right words, clearly not wanting to disrespect is friend. "North is a bit of a hit or miss. I can't predict how he'd be with you." 

He sends me a devilish look, teeth on display in a stunning smile as he adds, "Definitely can't tell you if the sex is good or not. He wouldn't let me hit."

I shake my head at him and roll my eyes, a blush forming on my cheeks. "I did not ask for that last bit," I tell him pointedly.

Sal chuckles, standing up from his spot on the opposite sofa to sit beside me. I watch him with questioning eyes, my body falling into a frenzy because, oh God, Sal's close. Arms. Tattoos. Fingers. Neck. Face. Teeth. Mouth. Hair. Veins. Ravenous. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

Yikes.

He grabs the controller I'd been playing Resident Evil with and that's when I remember that other half of our last minute agreement.

"Figured I'd give you one last little push to keep fucking me and not him," he says as if that statement holds no weight, gesturing toward me with the controller.

I hate when he says 'fuck' because it's always so unironically seductive. I know he's just playing around, but that glint in his eyes and the smirk-like tilt of his lips tries to tell me otherwise.

I snatch the controller from him and unpause the game, grumbling, "I already said I'm not interested in him."

I walk through all the steps I'd already done, having to restart the entire village scene due to my repeated fuck up from last round.

Sal doesn't reply to me, he watches every move I make on the screen and I focus as best as I can. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself, but I get wrapped up in the same exact spot again, fighting off more of the infected than I can handle.

Leon's body drops to the ground again and I stomp down the overwhelming urge to walk through the TV screen and beat Leon's dead body myself.

"I see what the problem is," Sal pipes up beside me, his tone screaming 'Physics Graduate' with how... scientific he sounds. I bet he conjured up a fucking hypothesis for this. "Come here," he says, linking a finger through my belt loop and tugging me toward him.

I nearly choke on air when my shoulder squishes against his and he leans closer, grabbing my arm closest to him and pulling it so that I'm holding the controller between us.

He moves his hands so that they wrap around mine and over the controller. He can move my thumbs any way he wants with this position-- but now I'm suffering the consequences. His hands are rough and warm on me, his fingers callused and brushing over mine with a perfect plan set in place. I can hardly breathe because, technically, Sal's holding my hands right now. And my body is pressed to his. If he listens a little too hard, he'll hear my heart slamming in my chest.

My body is completely rigid against his. Sex doesn't even involve closeness like this. My entire brain has been completely detached and rewired in mere seconds. Everything I thought has been reversed and I could... totally bed him right here, maybe?

"Are you going to restart or do I have to do that for you too?" Sal rasps humorously. His voice is so near, so clear. I want to look over at him so bad, see the dimple on his cheek because I can hear his smile, but I keep a level head. My eyes stay trained on the TV as I press start.

After all, when a cool, slow-mo explosion happens in the movies, the protagonist never looks back to watch. 

I am the protagonist. I am the fucking protagonist. Iamthefuckingprotagonist.

"Okay, so this is where you're going wrong," Sal says in my ear, his tone suggesting he's much more focused now. His thumbs press into mine, moving Leon around the village much more easily than I could. Doesn't mean he's better than me, he just isn't running on fumes like I am. Sal fumes. I'm suffocating in him, it's all his fault. I am a good player, I swear I am.

I let him direct me, slowly beginning to relax in this soooo not-embrace. His arm, pressed against mine, acts as leverage for me to rest. He seems to lean against me more at some point too, the both of us more worried about getting Leon through the village than about how we slowly warm up to each other and this proximity.

"I don't know if we can get it with me guiding you like this," Sal says a tad urgently when the chase scene starts up, his thumbs working quickly with mine. At some point, I was able to start predicting what moves he'd make, so we seem to be more in sync now. "But we'll try. We have to get through the first wave, then we're going to shoot that damn church bell."

I furrow my brows. "Like the first game?" I gasp, "We can still do it here?"

Sal snorts, manipulating my fingers to shoot someone heading our way. "Of course we can. Watch and learn."

I do watch, and hell, I learn too. It takes maybe five minutes for Sal to get me through the part I'd been stuck on since I got here. The moment he gets the shot on the bell, it rings through the city and evokes deep satisfaction within me-- especially when all the citizens start piling at the church.

I smile at the screen, Sal's hands still wrapped around mine as the famed cut scene starts up.

"Where's everyone going? Bingo?"

This time I look at Sal because we said that line in unison. We said it together. At the same time. He looks back at me with wide eyes and an astonished grin, like he's barely holding back crazed excitement.

Something catches Sal's eye as we watch each other for a short moment, reveling in our shared interest and achievement. He looks up and past me, smile softening as he lets go of my hands. 

The controller is suddenly so heavy without him holding it up for me. It slowly drops to my lap as he stands, walking back over to his respective couch.

I swallow, biting down my yearning for his missing presence. He was warm, he was stable. And that admission only reinforces that fact that I really need to put some much needed distance between us before things get way too real.

I look down at my lap for a moment, reminding myself that everything's going it work itself out. It'll be okay.

Things go back to the way they were before we started conversing today. Sal plays his guitar and tweaks things on his laptop, I play Resident Evil. Only difference now is that we're both progressing through our tasks.

And you know what, it's really nice. I thought this would be a mistake, I thought this would make things so much worse-- well, things are worse, but not in the way I assumed it would be.

But I'm actually having fun. The best part is neither of us need to talk to enjoy ourselves right now. A dynamic like this one is rare.

"You need to go."

The words are abrupt, make me look up. Sal is placing his phone down beside him and pulling his guitar strap over his head. 

Is this some kind of prank? Is he just trying to get our old bickering going? I was just thinking about how nice things were and he cut it off like he read my mind. He had this icy monotone to his voice that I haven't heard in a long time.

With a wary smile, I try to play along. "You're stuck with me, buddy. You made the mistake of inviting me in."

"I'm serious, y/n. I need you to leave." He nearly cuts me off, the words rushing out in what almost sounds like a panic.

I look at him closer, leaning my head down a bit to peek past his curtain of hair. His face is so stone-like, one would think he had faced off with Medusa. My eyebrows pinch together as I finally click into the veiled tenseness around us, my realization making everything that much thicker. 

"Are-- are you okay?" I ask softly, a trickle of apprehension going down my spine. I don't know how to approach this. Clearly, something's wrong and he's trying to play it off. What do I do here? Things were going fine.

"Get out." The words are like a slap to the face, so aggressive and loud that I flinch, the controller tumbling off my lap and onto the floor.

My racing heart only increases its speed as I freeze up and just stare at him. I'm frightened, something I definitely don't want him to see but I can't help it, especially when he looks up at me with a glare so menacing-- the same glare that was always hidden by his prosthetic months ago. Until now.

I force myself to breathe and think.

Okay, he wants me gone. I can do that. All I have to do is walk out the door and I'll be out of his hair. Hell, he might even apologize about this later. My brain nags at me though, says that behind the anger in his expression is fear and sadness. Says that he doesn't need to be alone right now-- he needs someone.

This switch in him was so random, so fast. It feels wrong to think that I was the cause or that he's suddenly freaking out because I'm here. There's something deeper; the problem now is whether he'll let me find out what's going on or not. Should I even try?

Utterly split on what to do, I slowly stand to my feet, never breaking eye contact with him. His excruciating glower softens a little, showing off a glimmer of relief that further proves my thoughts.

I fight past the fear he suddenly evoked, overwhelmed by how pained he must be to have a sudden reaction like this. He helped me when I had a hard time, so shouldn't I do the same for him?

As if to confirm my thoughts, Gizmo comes veering into the room. He talks and talks, skittering over to Sal and climbing up his chest. That's when Sal finally looks away from me so he can run his tattooed hand over the cat's orange fur.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. There is something wrong. Gizmo's presence says it all-- he did the same thing for me when I was anxious.

"Sal..." I say gently, hovering in my stance. I hold my hands to my chest, stuck on what decision to make. I don't know what to do. I'm torn between his wishes and mine. "Do you need to talk about something?"

"No," he bites out. "What I need is for you to get the fuck out." He gently moves Gizmo and stands up. I gulp, watching as that threatening aura of his grows closer and closer with each step he takes. I match his pace, taking steps backward. He herds me to the front door of his apartment, stopping when my back hits the doorknob.

I gasp at the feeling of metal digging into my lower back, using all my might not to back down and cower as Sal towers of me; every inch of his face curled with malice and rage and anguish. His dark brows are furrowed to hold up that glare of his, his light eyes darkened by the negativity roiling around in him. His marred lips set in a frown that just doesn't suit him at all. It's all so unlike him.

This isn't who I've come to know. No matter how scary he is, I just can't, in good conscience, leave him like this.

I take a shaky breath and stay stock still. Stand a bit taller to match his energy. I say a silent prayer that I don't end up on the evening news before I jump into the river crawling with snakes and alligators.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you like this," I declare, making sure my voice is confident to show that I won't back down despite how unconfident I am.

He looks away, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as if to bite down his instinctual reaction before he addresses me again. 

He's trying. He's trying so hard not to scare me off for good-- that's why he wants me to leave now. I see it-- I see through him.

The gears work and click together in my mind. He doesn't want to be alone, he doesn't want to suffer with no one to hold him up when he's low. He's just so focused on boxing up his secrets, keeping them hidden from everyone that he won't rely on his only option. I really can't leave him now, can I?

"You can talk about it if you want, or you don't have to. But you don't have to be alone, whatever it is," I try to console him gently, moving to the side so he can see me in his peripheral. But my movement just makes him squeeze his eyes shut. My heart stutters upon realizing I'm not getting through to him, he isn't hearing me.

"Don't say that shit like you care!" he nearly explodes, voice rattling in my ears. "You don't understand anything. You don't know a thing about me."

He's looking at me again, desperation swimming in his ocean gaze, hiding away from the rage taking over his expression. His eyes rove over my face, sizing me up, waiting for the moment I bite back or walk away.

"I know I don't know anything," I tell him softly, making sure that my expression is open and, fuck, caring. Because I do care. "That's why I'm asking you to help me help you. However way is better."

"I don't want your fucking help," he hisses, eyes narrowing. "I don't want your fucking pity. I want you gone."

I open my mouth to passively fight him on that decision, but he interrupts me before I can even get a word out. "You can't spew this bullshit at me. Like you've lived a day in my life and you know what's it's like to be me. You don't, and you never will if it's up to me." With each word, pity, guilt, and anger builds within me. He's suffering and he won't let himself feel even an ounce of reprieve. Instead, he's trying to push everyone away. He's the type of asshole who probably thinks he deserves to be alone. "I don't want you here, nor do I need you here. Go coddle someone who needs it and get off my fucking case."

I clap back at him the moment he finishes. "Well, maybe you do need help! Maybe you do need my fucking pity! Have you thought about that?" I snap, gesturing to him with a hand. Why can't he just accept this? Get help? Let someone take it so he doesn't have to bear it all? "I don't need to be you to get it, Sal. I don't even need to be me to get it because I see it. You think you can hide it all, carry it all, but you clearly fucking cannot." I scrunch up my face to accentuate my words, trying to get it across to him through the parts of my face on display, the thing that supposedly captures his fascination so much. "It's seeping off of you like oil; doesn't even soak into you. You don't wear your heart on your sleeve, you wear your feelings. I don't know what the hell's going on, but it doesn't take a genius with an IQ higher than yours to see that you're in pain."

Sal doesn't let up that harsh scowl, but I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. And then he blinks. Then he's turning his back to me, walking away from me and toward the kitchen while running a hand down his face.

My heart physically feels as if it's cracking in two, but I grip onto the bit of clarity I have left after literally yelling in his face. I take a hesitant step toward him when his head tilts down, his hair falling around him.

I wet my lips, ponder what to say now. How to approach this with my fingers quaking as each quiet second passes.

"Let's..." I whisper, heaving a troubled sigh. "You don't have to tell me, but maybe talking about it will relieve you, even if just a little." I chew on the inside of my cheek, tiptoeing around the topic, making sure I'm gentle with him now that he's backed down. "And if you really don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. We can watch a movie, play a game. Whatever you want."

The tides are shifting. With each offer that leaves my mouth, something about us changes. With how much I live to loathe change, I find that I don't fear it the way I did before. Not if the change is with Sal. Not right now when this man is nearly falling apart in front of me and pretending that he isn't.

"I need--" his voice cracks and my heart does the same. He's holding himself together with wet glue right now. What the fuck is going on? "I need to talk to Ash," he tries again, his voice a little more stable this time, though still soft and reserved. "But I can't. She's busy."

I bite down on my bottom lip. I know he doesn't want to talk to me. He said it himself; he would never tell me his secrets. But I don't think either of us have much of a choice.

"I'm not Ash," I say delicately, taking one more step toward him. There's still so much distance between us, I don't know how to get to him. "But whatever you say will never leave this room. Once it's out, I'll forget it ever happened if that's what you want."

He doesn't move, doesn't speak. He's heavily contemplating, weighing his options. 

Still silent, he jumps into action, moving to a cabinet in the kitchen. He opens it, pulls out a can of peaches. I watch his every movement as he opens the can then grabs a fork from a drawer. 

I don't push him to speak, I let him figure out what he wants to do. He doesn't quite face me, but he turns so that his back leans against the counter, all while he bites into a colorful peach slice that's hanging from his fork.

He chews while staring unblinkingly at the emptiness in front of him.

"She messaged me."

My eyebrows draw together in confusion for a moment, but I think about what he's said before I ask him to be more specific. 

She. She. I only know of two women regarding Sal-- one being Ash, and the other...

I hold my breath as I realize. It's the woman who hurt him. I shift my weight, expression slackening as I try to find a solution for him. My mind starts swimming with ways to drag him from the depths of his agony. 

Ash told me that if I ever had strange messages and suspected it to be that woman, that I should let her know. And if this woman is harassing Sal, we could take it to police and maybe, hopefully, they could do something about it.

"And I don't know what to do," he continues helplessly, his sweet voice melodic with despair as he looks down at his can of peaches.

I watch him, collecting myself to approach him as rationally as possible. Then, I close the fated distance between us and walk over to him. I stand before him, about a foot of space between us. He doesn't look up.

"Here's what we can do," I start tenderly, trying to be as soft as possible while being a stable foothold he can use to climb out of this mess.  "You don't have to look at it again," I continue, my gaze never leaving him even though he's almost completely hidden from me. "If you trust me with it, I'll take your phone, log in, screenshot the message. Then, I'll block her-- no response because she does not deserve it. I'll send the screenshot to myself then send it to Ash from there. It'll be out of your hands at that point. Me and Ash will handle the rest." Me and Ash because I want to sink my fangs into this bitch too.

Sal sets the can on the counter beside him, rubs a hand across his forehead. His fringe is wild, his hair sticking up in different directions until he runs a hand through his hair, his black nails clashing against a sea of cerulean blue. "Okay," he says, the word so quiet and raspy that I nearly miss it.

I wait just a moment, eyes glued to him. "Okay," I repeat. "I'm going grab your phone."

I backtrack to the living room, picking his phone up from the couch where he'd left it. I flip it so that the screen is facing me and see an Instagram notification. I don't read it just yet, but I slide up on the lock so that he can type in his password. 

When I'm back in the kitchen, I stand in front of Sal and hand him the phone. Fork hanging from his mouth, he quickly types in his password then hands the device back to me. 

It's open to the message. I know I'm doing this for him, but I'm afraid to look too much in fear of seeing something he doesn't want me to see. The last thing I want to do is betray his trust when he's finally given it to me.

"Do you want me to read it or just get the job done?" I ask him. 

"Just read it. It's inevitable either way," he mutters dejectedly. That tone makes me frown worriedly. I'm already on the precipice of falling into complete heartbreak. His reaction certainly doesn't help. Still, I take the screenshot before glancing over the text:

@zoxbby112: 2 fucking years? sexual assault? you've got to be fucking joking you pathetic piece of shit. i TOLD you no one was going to believe your dumb ass and you still went and did it anyway. you're literally a dude, if you didn't want it you should've pushed me off or smth. everyone says no in the heat of the moment asshole. you liked it, you just need to play the victim since no one else is ever going to want you and that ugly fucking face. you're lucky i even still fucked you after getting that piece of plastic off you. fucked up my entire life. making yours a living hell is the only revenge i'm willing to get. 

I have to grip onto the counter to stop myself from crumbling to my knees upon realizing just how this woman hurt him. It was sexual assault. She assaulted him. 

"Oh, Sal..." The words slip past my lips, unbidden and broken as I take a shaky breath.

I blink past the sudden tears in my eyes and shake my head as I block her account then delete the message, navigating my way through his home screen and to discord. I send the message to myself then grab my own phone, making sure to save the screenshot. I go back to his, deleting the photo from our messages and his camera roll so he never has to see it again.

I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. So much of me wants to be angry, but all I'm feeling is throbbing pain and overwhelming guilt. I feel like my organs are being harvested from my body, like my skin is slowly being peeled away from my bones. All because I have no idea what to do for him, I don't know how to make it better. I don't know how to fix it for him, and I don't think I can.

"I'm..." I start to say, my voice hoarse. 

"Please don't tell me you're sorry," he says quietly, stabbing his fork into another peach.

I tilt my head, biting my tongue as I place his phone down beside him. If I were in his situation, I wouldn't want to hear sorry's anymore either. God, more than anything I just wish I could go back in time and save him from that.

"You know," I say instead, so much emotion ravaging me whole that I don't know how to stay standing on my own. The only reason I'm still up is for him. "I don't know much about physics, but I did like biology. And something my teacher taught me is that skin renewal takes seven years. So in seven years, you'll have brand new skin, and, um, it won't be the same skin you had when..." I trail off, going completely blank while trying to give him something to look forward to. Everything is so pathetic that even my brain can't cooperate.

Sal's head snaps up to look at me like he actually understood what I was yapping about. His pretty blue eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he still looks at me, face completely expressionless.

I match his gaze, waiting for something. Anything. But then he cracks a pitiful smile, snorts softly-- shows me as much humor as he can muster up. Wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand.

I feel each of my damaged cells rebuilding themselves again at his shift in character. My heart beat becomes a little stronger, my breath more even and not so shallow with torturous anticipation. 

"My skin will be untouched in seven years," he laughs, albeit humorlessly, but it's something.

"Yea, that's what I was getting at," I confirm, rubbing my arms and looking down at my feet.

Still standing beside him, I glance up just as he bites off half the peach slice on his fork. He gazes back at me, his eyes bluer than any sky I've seen, expression softer than any lingering touch of his.

I feel heat gather along my cheeks when he tilts the fork toward me slowly, offering me the other half of the peach. He looks like a cornered bunny, giving the fox hovering around him a peace offering. It's an apology and a thank you, reinforcing the trust that I handled with as much care as possible. 

This fruit means something to him. I haven't an inkling of understanding on the offer, but if it matters to him then it matters to me.

I gently pluck the fork from his fingers, bite off the other half of the peach then hand the fork back.

Turning, I lean my back against the counter and stand beside him, both of us looking into the empty living room in front of us. We don't talk, we don't share a word. But we do pass that fork back and forth. He takes a bite of a peach, I finish it off. It goes like that until the can is empty, and then we both just kind of... stand there.

He pushes off the counter with a soft grunt, dumps the remaining syrup into the sink, washes it down the drain, then he walks over to me. He just stands there and looks down at me with the gentlest expression I've ever seen on him.

I stare back at him, dumbfounded as my mind races for explanations. So much is different now, I didn't think it could possibly change any more but I'm slowly learning that I keep severely underestimating Sal Fisher. Neither of us can make up excuses for this. 

I quickly fit the puzzle pieces together though and realize he's right in front of me because I'm blocking the trashcan. What only solidifies it is that a little upside down smile quirks his lips upon seeing me connect the dots. 

Now, we move the the awkward, embarrassment stage that comes with deep connection. Yea, making friends really sucks, especially when I want so much more than friends.

What?

The unwarranted thought flies out of my head as Sal braces a hand on the counter beside me when I don't move, caging me in as he bends forward. His face passes right beside mine and his hair brushes my cheek, making a chill run up my spine.

His body heat encases me like a warm duvet on the coldest of winter days, his scent wrapping around my soul, squeezing tight, comforting. He's so familiar now, it feels so normal being close to him like this. So much so that I ache to hold him right here for hours. Forever, even. 

Maybe it's the dim lights in the kitchen, the dark night filtering in from his balcony windows. But when he moves backward, he doesn't go far.

He hovers near me, his hand still pressed into the counter beside me. He's close, very close. Closer than he's ever been, I think. 

I map the curve of his lips, my eyes drifting to where the deep scars elongate and change the shape of his mouth, dragging up his cheek and to his eye-- the eye that I can clearly tell is a prosthetic now that he's so close. It looks so similar to his real eye that I genuinely couldn't tell the difference before. 

"You have freckles," I whisper upon noticing them, my voice barely above a whisper. Before I can stop myself, I lift a hand between us and gently run my fingertips over his skin, tracing every little light spot along his nose and cheeks. 

His eyes glance back and forth between mine in my peripheral vision and at the same time, a light pink dusts his cheeks that I'm so focused on. He swallows, licks his lips. Unable to form words.

He opens his mouth, almost like he's thinking of saying something, but he doesn't. He simply lets out a breath, delicately holds me in his gaze.

I let my hand drop between us, marveling at the feel of his soft skin beneath mine. I don't want to make him uncomfortable though, I'm already ogling him enough as it is.

At the realization that I really am looking at him so hard, I tilt my head down, dropping my gaze. After what that awful woman texted him tonight, I doubt he wants to be looked at like this. Picked apart, observed. The point of this is to help him, not point out everything he probably hates about himself. Though, there really is nothing to hate. The me from a couple months ago would passionately object to that statement, but that's past-me for a reason. 

Things change. I changed. Sal's changed.

My breath catches in my throat when his hand presses against my cheek, using the leverage to tilt my head up again. To look at him.

My heart leaps in my chest and I'm unable to breathe when I notice his dilated pupil, feel his thumb gently rubbing my along my jawline. His eyes track his digit's movements, but I can't even be bothered to look away from him. I'm bewitched by his fascination with me, haunted by the calm expression on his face, the wonder in his eyes.

His thumb drags down from my cheek and to my mouth, skimming over my top lip, then the bottom. I feel skittish, burning to move some part of my body to release the energy pent up inside me.

His tongue runs over his bottom lip, entranced by my own mouth.

And if he were to actually try to kiss me this time, I wouldn't stop him.

A low hum spreads throughout my entire body upon acknowledging our situation and the tension that's suddenly filled the air. It's a tingling in every limb, down my spine, up to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I feel him everywhere even though he's only touching my face. I can see him so well, so easily. The slightly darker shade of his left eye and the golden flecks of stardust in his right eye. Pretty. So pretty.

"So pretty," he murmurs my own thoughts. Something about the way he says it, so unguarded and adoring, makes me think I wasn't supposed to hear it.

I don't know how to reply or if I even should. I simply watch him like I have been all night, feeling oxygen and rationality leave me with each prolonged second of this somewhat embrace of ours. We've found ourselves like this more than once today, could we possibly escape it again?

I feel so light and heavy at the same time, thrumming with energy but weak. The feeling of his skin, so cool against my flushed skin, is enough to have my mind racing but to make my body completely freeze. I'm stuck. There's so much... so much that I want to do with the way he's looking at me this way, but I can't make myself do it.

I don't quite realize how close we've suddenly gotten until his nose bumps my mask's. A quiet gasp leaves me and his eyes dart up, gazing into mine.

He's fighting himself and I can tell, the quick scrunch of his eyebrows gives everything away.

Things are really about to change-- again. As if they hadn't already.

There's something startling about the way his eyebrows draw together again, but this time in a pleading way, like he's silently willing me with his mind to pull away from him. Begging me to put a stop to his internal madness. To change his mind. His doe eyes look a little scared and a little dedicated– two very different emotions that just so happen to go hand-in-hand for the moment. 

The way he's looking at me... it's been so long since anyone has looked so pleasurably torn up over wanting me so badly. And not in a lustful way, but in the way that forms bonds. Connects us so intimately without the goal of chasing an orgasm or being able to get something out of the situation. The way he's looking at me screams curiosity and a need to sate it so bad that he's not fighting the battle he wanted me to pull him away from moments ago. He's just slowly giving in and trying to convince himself that he's not.

I'm no better than him in this moment. My hands are balled into fists, my entire body frozen and awaiting whatever it is that's going to come next. My fingernails bite into my palms and my heart drums against my chest, wishing he'd move closer.

I didn't think it'd be this way. I didn't expect to crave him so badly, to miss the feeling of his lips on mine without ever having felt it before. It's excruciating to yearn for him in this new way and hope that he doesn't back out before I can even feel him.

As if he read my mind, he's moved so close that I can feel his breath on my chin, his top lip brush over mine.

I suck in a choking breath and hold it, praying this isn't all a dream.

"Aren't you scared?" He whispers quietly, his mouth skimming over mine with each syllable. His words echo in my mind, his tone caressing my thoughts, coercing me into falling into him and never getting up again.

"No," I whisper back, shutting my eyes and waiting. It's scarier to look at him and fear that he'll move away. Almost as if to lock him into place, I grip onto the hem of his shirt.

He goes quiet and I feel every one of my neurons lighting up with anticipation when his forehead presses against my mask's. 

"Push me away. Something," Sal whispers, the words so quiet and pained that I don't dare open my eyes to observe his current state. 

He knows. He knows this is exactly what he told me wouldn't happen, but now it's about to. And we should be realistic, think about the consequences but I don't want to. I just want to feel him, have him near. I want to be selfish.

I lick my lips, forgetting he's so close. My tongue swipes over his bottom lip and I hear it-- feel it when he steals a breath that tries to escape him.

"I can't," I answer him hoarsely, unable to raise my voice for him to hear me better as I squeeze the fabric of his shirt in my fist. Every bit of me aches to touch him, to feel his skin on mine but I can't muster up the courage, not when this entire situation is in his hands right now.

I won't choose for him today, not with what brought us to this. If he wants me, he can take me.

"Please." His word comes out in a broken whisper, so full of yearning that a little whimper escapes my mouth.

"Please," I mimic him, entranced by the featherlight brush of my lips over his. I can't keep doing this. I can't... "I can't think. Do it."

He lets out the most pitiful sigh I think I've ever heard in my life, and then leisurely presses his lips into mine. It's slow, soft, careful. He holds himself there, suffocates in the sensation just as I do.

Everything I thought I had lost so long ago comes rushing back into me. Excitement, life, a want for more than basic necessity. And for once, I don't feel bad. I don't feel guilty for wanting Sal as much as I do.

I place a hand on his stomach to remind myself that this kiss is real, that he's truly standing in front of me.

My touch was the trigger, I realize, when his other hand moves to my other cheek, pulls me closer to him. He tilts his head a bit as his jagged lips part against mine, softly welcoming the slanting of my mouth against his.

My throat feels as though it's clamped shut as I move a hand to grab onto the base of Sal's neck, my fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt. I'm completely enraptured by the feeling of his mouth on mine. I feel like I'm going to faint, my heart beating so quickly, so vigorously that I can hear my blood pulsing in my ears. There's so much emotion that I've bitten down and hidden for so long regarding Sal. It's all coming out now.

Our lips move slowly, passionately. There's no rush, no heat. It's just feeling. Every movement, every moment of his lips sliding so delicately against mine, every ragged breath, every tightening of his hands on my face or my fingers bunching into his shirt. The feeling of our noses occasionally brushing against each other, plastic against damaged skin, and his chin skimming over mine just a bit. It's beautiful and so passionately smothering. The quiet morphs to mimic the simultaneous quick pace of our heart beats.

I feel the rapid beating of his heart like a drum right in the center of my chest where we touch, becoming one despite the heavy, loathsome origin story we were granted with. I'm sure he can feel just how much he's affecting me, his hand drifting over my neck and two fingers pressing against my pulse point like he did the first time we were together.

As sadistic as he is, I think he's only checking because he can't tell where his heart beat begins and where mine ends. 

Sal's lips close over mine again, the feeling eliciting a shiver that threatens to take over my entire being. I return his kiss, desperate to be closer to him in any way possible while my hand trails from his shirt to his cheek, brushing over the soft, scarred skin. 

He presses me against the kitchen counter, his hands beginning to roam past my face and neck as things gravitate from sweet to intense.

Our kiss becomes aggressive, his teeth biting into my lips and quiet breaths and whimpers passing from him and to me. He makes me feel crazy, filling me with exhilaration that courses through my blood quicker than adrenaline ever possibly could. 

Sal moves backward and I move to follow, but then his lips leave mine. 

I open my eyes, blinking up at him with barely an inch of space between our faces. 

He stares at me, looking like I've just torn him to pieces and hid every bit of him away and now he has to play eternity-long hide-n-seek.

But beyond that, his lips are flushed and kissed, his cheeks tinged pink and hair a mess-- when did I touch his hair? His eyes look a little brighter though, a little less haunted.

"Uh," he voices shakily. "Heat of the moment?"

He doesn't even sound like he believes himself.

The statement still makes my hopes deflate dramatically though. I chew on the inside of my cheek and force myself to look him in the eye as I lie to his face. "Yea," I rasp, taken aback by the sound of my voice. "Yea."

He watches me closely, never moving farther nor closer. As the seconds pass, he seems to sober up, the terrified look in his eyes slowly fading away.

If he decides this was a one time thing, at least I got to taste him once. At least we got one moment, one kiss. It's what I wanted and it's what he wants. 

Sal interrupts my thoughts, whispering, "You know..." One of his hands painstakingly and slowly trails along my side, making my skin erupt with  goosebumps. "I think we're still in the heat of the moment," he continues darkly, gaze falling to my mouth.

I don't let shock take control, I only try to control the smile that tries to quirk my lips. "I think so too," I whisper back, looking down at his teeth that bite into his lower lip like he's barely holding himself back.

As soon as he hears my response, he doesn't bother holding back. He smashes his lips onto mine and engages the two of us in the same dangerous dance we made the mistake of beginning earlier.

-------

A/N::::: BEEN HOLDING THIS ONE IN THE DRAFTS FOR A WHILLLLLLEEEEE I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S FINALLY TIME-- LIKE I ACTUALLY CAN'T BELIEVE IT WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO WRITE AFTER THIS

jk >:3

yea so as much as i adore this chapter, it also scares me because i feel like it moves way too fast (totally hasn't been nearly thirty fucking chapters ahahhaha). so yea, PLEASE let me know how we feel about this and what could have been better!

psa: i'm going to be starting student teaching august 1st, and college has me going to lots of meetings which means things are about to get VERRRYYYY busy for me… busier than they've ever been :( but!! i think things will be okay. lately, i've been teaching myself to fight through the lack of motivation and write any time i get even an inkling of yearning for it. exactly why y'all got this chapter so soon, actually! i saw something about how stephen king writes 5,000 words a day and i've been building to that! so while i won't be able to freely write as much as i know i'll want to, i'll still be writing. you guys know the drill though, even if it takes me a month or two to get something out, WINTER BREAK IS IN DECEMBER WHICH MEANS I CAN BEAT Y'ALL UP WITH CHAPTERS!!!

as always, i love you all SO much. more than you'll ever know. things have been tough on my mental lately and i'm going to be going through a HUGE shift in my life, but… that's okay cuz I know I'll always have you guys. thank you for being the most stable, non-toxic, and reliable things in my life! y'all going in my will fr

have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night my babies <3

p.s. when i wrote this note, i had just posted this chapter to wattpad-- which was about a week ago. the huge shift in my life had involved a six year relationship that i ended yesterday. i am incredibly torn up and shaken by this, but i believe it needed to happen for my wellbeing as well as my growth as a person. I know it's not necessarily an important thing to add to this note, but i want to give a reason just in case this healing process causes a prolonged absence for me. i am completely dedicated to faceless fixation and even today i've thought about what i want to write next, but i need to put some focus on myself instead of running away from my problems. thank you guys for being wonderful, i love you all so much!! until next time <3

[sleepyficss]

lightbulb & paintbrush headcanons.

poly! lightbrush x reader

authors note:

two of my favourite ii characters, i couldnt help myself :]c. also, swearing is present, apologies if you don't like that ^^

- already, these two complement each other SO WELL. so, adding a third person? you're all full of joy and whimsy.

- if you were present in the first season of ii, you probably wouldn't get together with them until season two, or the very end of season one at the earliest.

- but, when you DO get together if you were present in season one, your relationship is a lot stronger from the start – a lot of shit happened, but you were all there to experience it together, and are able to be there for each other because of it.

- lightbulb is sort of the 'comedic relief' in a sense? she's always trying to lighten the mood, and is considerably better at comforting people.

- she's also very much an entertainer, a lot of dates, or just chill-around days, are planned by her. despite how it seems, lightbulb is very aware of 'the mood', and others emotions.

- it isn't uncommon for her to act oblivious to the sour mood in a room, but she's really just trying to lighten things up in her own way :)

- although, she does understand when it isn't appropriate to act as such. instead, she'll happily offer a listening ear, and physical touch, as a comforting gesture. she may even pull out a few ideas to help you if you're in a challenging situation; no promises that the ideas won't be a little odd, though!

- paintbrush definitely struggles more in the comforting department, as they tend to let their OWN emotions get in the way of things.

- especially if you're upset because of someone else, depending on the situation, paintbrush may just end up losing their own temper on your behalf. they just appreciate you a lot, and can't understand how another person would be willingly mean to you :(

- when they do lose their temper, its usually lightbulb trying to calm them down, but with you in the mix? they find your presence very grounding, and will calm down a lot quicker with both of you around.

- just put a hand on their shoulder, or wrap your fingers around their own – it offers as a little distraction to whatever set them off.

- considering that paintbrush feels their emotions very strongly, not just their frustration or anger, they become VERY easy to fluster.

- once they've started falling for you, they're gonna fall hard.

- lightbulb's a little better at hiding their swooning, and instead just comes off as a little blushy and awkward (but not in a bad way, she's just nervous and doesn't know how to deal with your love for her).

- further into the relationship, though, lightbulb gets a grip and becomes a LOT more confident in their flirting, finding it silly when they're able to make you flustered.

- paintbrush still blushes easily, but will still attempt to make moves on you (holding your hand, any sort of kissing, physical touch, etc) while being a nervous wreck.

- but!! dates between the three of you are always so sweet.

- the number of times you've made cookies together is purely uncountable – but it's a fun activity, and you get a yummy treat afterwards.

- paintbrush and you usually only eat one or two cookies, lightbulb steals the rest.

- the three of you going outside after dark isn't uncommon, where you bring a blanket to lay upon the ground, just to sit on and stare at the stars.

- sometimes, you'll all just sit there in silence, enjoying each others presence, or quietly talking about anything and everything.

- there have been plenty of times where those talks have become serious, ending in soft cuddles and words of comfort to each other.

- there are also times where you're all in a silly mood, and end up being yelled at by someone trying to sleep, for laughing too loud, or playfully yelling at each other.

- you and paintbrush won't ever forget the pain you felt in your stomachs from laughing too hard as lightbulb attempted to stand up and act something out, only to trip and go falling down the hill. all you could see was the light emanating from her growing smaller and smaller until she reached the bottom.

- speaking of her light, it isn't noticeable during the day, but when all three of you have retreated to your bedroom, and are snuggling under the covers, lightbulb has the slightest bit of light constantly glowing from her.

- it isn't something she can turn off either, its just the built-up electricity within her, always running through her body.

- she's like your own personal, cuddly nightlight.

- none of you have set positions when sleeping in bed, either. half the time, you wake up in different positions anyways.

- lightbulb wants to be touching at least one of you all night, usually with as much of her body as she can.

- whether its you or paintbrush, she'll have an arm wrapped around you, a leg wedged between yours, and her body pressed flush against yours.

- paintbrush will usually just have an arm around your body, or a foot lightly brushing against yours.

- lightbulb is always knocked out the minute she's comfortable though, lightly snoring away.

- it takes paintbrush a while longer though, and you often find yourself talking to them quietly, tiredly muttering about your days to each other until one of you falls asleep first.

- paintbrush may prefer having you directly next to them sometimes because of this, as they like to tiredly stare into your eyes as an sloppy smile rests on your face, listening to paintbrush's account of their day.

- they like when you unconsciously hold their hand and play with their fingers in you sleepy state, eventually dropping both your hands as sleep overtakes you.

- you'll be listening to paintbrush mid sentence, start mumbling, and you're like, "what was that? you were too quiet – oh." and they've fallen asleep with their fingers tucked against yours.

- the next morning always kills you, though. as much as you love her, lightbulb is WAY too early of a riser for both you and paintbrush.

- half the time, shes jumped out of bed and opened the curtains while you and paintbrush are still groaning under the covers.

- and don't forget!! being in a relationship with these two, means coparenting their favourite crab – baxter!!

- sometimes lightbulb wants to bring him into bed with you all, but you have to remind her that he'd probably get squished in your sleep, considering how much you all move around.

- baxter does make an appearance in a lot of your dates though, remember to keep a constant eye out for him so you don't trip over him!

- you do love him, though – he's too cute not to.

- but he likes to interrupt your personal time with paintbrush and lightbulb at times, where you and paintbrush want to kick him out of the room, but lightbulb gets distracted and goes off to play with him instead.

- you all still love each other so, so much though <3

- i might have to make more headcanons of these two, i still have so much to talk about!! especially about your relationship DURING the contests >:)

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

needy

pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader word count: 1294 warnings: fluff, established relationship, smut, dom tae, brat reader, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, dirty talk, teasing, rough sex, nipple play AO3 A/N: request - Ohhhh can I request tae imagine where we break the bed during sex, with a bit of humor if you may add some please 😍💜 Thank you so much 💜 Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

In insight, maybe you should've seen this coming…

For once your boyfriend's schedule was free, and of course, you decided to spend the day with him because even if you fully understood his busy life that didn't help the fact that you missed him oh so much when he wasn't around…

You also missed those private times when he would fuck you into the bed after being away from each other for too long but that's beside the point - even if you did become a horny mess that couldn't keep your hands to yourself once you found out he had the day-off.

And hey, when you have a boyfriend that looks like Kim Taehyung what person can resist?

That's why you practically ran to him once you found out the good news.

You just want to spend time with boyfriend - Is that too much to ask?

But of course, both God and Taehyung seemed to have other ideas.

Once you got there the only thing that greeted you kindly was the imaginary bucket of cold water that fell on you when you found your boyfriend too busy playing video games to even care that you showed up.

Right then and there you knew that it would be near impossible to pull his attention away from it but you were willing to try anyway.

And God knows you tried…

Acting small and cute while asking for kisses? Stealing one of his shirts and walk by him wear just it and your panties? Hugging him from behind and spreading kisses all the way to his collarbones? Biting his earlobe? Sitting on his lap and wiggling your butt?

You tried them all and none had worked - maybe you were being a bit selfish after all the boys didn't have much free time to begin with and they had every right to spend it the way they wanted, but you were a horny woman with needs!

You went to his room defeated, laying on the bed with arms crossed and a pout on your lips.

You don't know how much time had passed when you felt arms wrap around your waist and pulling you closer to a chest as lips left kisses and marks on your neck…

Well too bad, you were still annoyed that he ignored you in the favor of games, even if you had to bite your bottom lip so that no noises would escape you.

"Oh? First you were begging for my attention and now you ignore me?" his hands going under the shirt and cupping your chest, fondling one breast with his right and pitching a nipple with his left. His hips grinding against you, letting you feel how hard he was.

Taehyung just wanted to hear you but you weren't letting up anytime soon, in fact, you were biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

It was honestly annoying him.

Removing his hands he pushed you onto your back, gripping your chin tightly and forcing you to look at him.

"How long do you think you can ignore me?"

As you continued to refuse to speak he decided to change tactics - his free hand descending towards your center and rubbing you through your panties, a whimper escaping you.

You were already so wet for him and he was getting started.

"I was just there enjoying myself but you had to distract me." he pulled your ruined panties to the side and insert two fingers, making you gasp at the intrusion.

As his fingers slid in and out of you long gone was your need to keep quiet as he pulled moan after moan from your lips. But he still wasn't satisfied.

Taehyung inserted a third finger and rubbed your swollen clit with his thumb, his movements increasing in speed. "Couldn't get my head in the game, just kept thinking of you - so desperate for my cock, doing everything just to get it inside you like the cockslut that you are." he palmed himself as he curled his fingers against your sweet spot, making you arch your back.

You were so close you could almost taste it, but right before you reached the edge he removed his fingers from inside of you.

Removing his clothes he chuckled at your reaction, whining with a pout on your lips. "Don't worry baby, you'll take it - every inch of it - like the good girl that you are." getting rid of his underwear, cock springing up, tip glistening with precum. His eyes never leaving you as he ran a hand up and down his length.

Tae was on top of you in a second, crashing your lips together, tongue delving into your mouth, one hand tightly gripping your waist.

Parting for breath, he spread you out, eyes darkened with lust making you clench around nothing. "Don't you dare cum without my permission, unless you don't wanna be able to for the next two weeks."

TWO WEEKS?! "I-I'll be g-good."

He chuckled at your desperation, pulling your ruined panties to the side and lining himself at your entrance.

He slammed into you at full force, completely filling you that you swore that he hit your cervix, your back arching as a loud moan escaped you.

Pulling out until only his tip remained inside before slamming into you once more. His thrusts rough and fast, snapping his hips against yours with such strength that the headboard slammed against the wall again and again.

Your nails digging into his back, moan after moan pulled out of you so loud you were sure that everybody outside could hear it. Every thrust and groan from bringing you closer to your high.

"How does it feel baby? To let everyone know of much of a slut you are for me?" You could only moan in response, closing your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

Suddenly both of your bodies jerked forward as the top half of the bed tilted at an odd angle, the screws of the headboard becoming too loose.

"Uh… Tae-"

"I'm not fucking done with you." angling himself just right, hitting the spot that had you seeing stars, making you gasp his name - to which Taehyung chuckled. "I don't need a bed to fuck you."

He resumed his pace, pounding himself into you, continuously hit the spot as you repeatedly screamed his name like a mantra.

You felt him rubbing figures on your clit and bit your bottom lip, trying your best to hold off. "T-Tae… p-please…"

"Hold it!" he stated with a hard slap on your ass. "Good girls wait." squeezing your eyes shut, gripping tightly onto his arms as the need for release kept building.

His thrusts becoming sloppier as your core clenched around him, gripping him like a grapevine. His finger on your clit moving more rapidly. "Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock. Make a mess out of it."

That was all it took for the knot to break, pleasure filling every part of you as you loudly screamed his name one last time. His fast pace never faltering, slamming against you again and again, until he did it once last time, making you moan as ropes of cum filled you up.

Pulling out his now soft cock Taehyung left to grab a towel to clean you as you laid on the bed, calming out your breathing.

As he cleaned the mess between your thighs Tae spread kisses all over your face, making you giggle at the attention. "Is my girl satisfied?"

You nodded, pressing your lips against his in a slow and gentle kiss. "Sorry for distracting you. You have every right to spend your day-off the way you want."

"Does this mean I can go back to the game?"

[byoldervine]

What's your routine when it comes to writing?

I’m literally just writing everything I can think of because I don’t know if I have a routine exactly but hopefully something here answers your question

My writing goal is 1K words per week, and I’ve been able to keep up with this since the start of this year. It’s not much, but it gives me a minimum amount of consistent progress without burning me out, which is incredibly helpful

I work Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, so I get most of my writing done outside of that, and then Mondays are usually busy for me so it’s up in the air how much writing I’ll get done that day. For the last few weeks I’ll write a little on Monday, then get the bulk of it done on Thursday and/or Saturday, which leaves Sunday free

I can’t have too many background distractions or I’ll zero in on that even if I’m not interested in it, but I find I work best with quiet background noise of some variety to ensure I’m not understimulated. My favourites tend to be a writing sprint video I love and custom soundpads I’ve made on TableTop Audio, which allows you to easily create soundscapes for whatever setting it is you’re writing about

I like writing on my laptop more than anything, with one tab being my writing and another being my notes. Any tabs that aren’t related to my writing need to be closed or they get too tempting. I cannot use my phone to research in this time or I will definitely get distracted

I work from two locations; in my bed or in the living room set up on the recliner. Both locations involve open curtains and blinds for natural light and a blanket over my lap while I write. I even have a dedicated writing blanket which has largely been taken over by my dogs, who will snuggle up whenever I get it out. I have to frequently stop them from laying their heads on my keyboard and creating shortcuts

If it’s a good motivation day or I’m at a point where I need to write a lot today or I won’t meet my deadlines, I’ll put on the writing sprint video and work within those parameters; 25 minutes writing, 5 minutes taking a break, repeat three more times. This is what got me through NaNoWriMo

Otherwise, I’ll turn on my soundscapes and tell myself I’ll just write for ten minutes and then I can stop if I want to. After ten minutes my brain wants to at least finish the part it’s on, and then I question if I want to keep going. Usually the answer is yes, so I’ll keep going. If I get to a point where my interest is starting to wane, I’ll tell myself to give it another ten minutes, and if I’m still disinterested I quit for the time being

After I’ve finished my weekly goal, I always try to reward myself with a snack or something fun. Lately the desired treat has been chocolate chip muffins

Once I’ve hit the goal and am no longer writing, I tend not to pick it up again until the next week because my brain thinks ‘well anything I write now won’t count to my immediate goals, so why bother?’ even though logically it’ll mean less of these sessions in the future. I do usually get at least 1100 words each week though, and I’d say my average is around 1200-1500, so I’m not too worried about that. I don’t mind so much if this all takes me a long time, it’s all for fun anyway