#asking why i'd kiss him if i don't wanna hook up and i said i just wanna have fun?

[sparklingchim]

[cherrygirlfriend]

reader doesn't want bsf!rafe to go out

warnings: smut! MDNI

so timeline-wise this came like early on when they were hooking up SO this is not a continuation to my last fic about bsf!rafe and reader. also, it's based on this meme i posted ... anyway i chopped half my hair off this morning

"come on..." you pouted, tugging on the fabric of his shorts, "just stay here... i wanna be with you."

"you know that i meet up with my friends every wednesday." rafe said with raised eyebrows, looking down at you as you laid on your stomach in his bed, looking up at him with a look that was almost pleading. "baby, i'm sorry, but i already agreed i'd hang out with topper and kelce."

"well, i could come with you guys...?" you said with a hopeful expression on your face, only to be faced with a sigh, "what?"

"it's just that... topper and kelce don't really want to hang out with you."

you let out a soft chuckle, sitting up on his bed and looking at him straight in the eye, "oh really?" the boy simply nodded, and that was when you dug out your phone.

"so, i wonder why topper's been trying to get me to hang out with just him for months now," you said, showing him texts between you and topper, "and kelce has been constantly flirting with me whenever he can?"

rafe looked at the messages between you and topper, and then between you and kelce, before simply looking at you with narrowed eyes. "what?" you asked innocently, but the boy already had hold of your thighs, pushing them apart.

he slid your panties down your legs, giving you his phone. "text them to let them know i can't make it today." rafe said as he started pressing kisses on your inner thighs, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you tried to type out a message, only to be interrupted by a moan that was practically begging to be let out.

rafe was licking up your folds when your shaky fingers finally finished typing out a message to his friends and sending it to their group chat, and you looked down at the blonde boy, a grin on his face as he held your legs apart, "fuck, it looks like i need to show you who you belong to, again."

[shoezuki]

Sampo has taken him to dozens of planets at this point, massive ships the size of celestial bodies and burnt out stars that have turned lush with discolored plant life over billions of years. Massive, writhing metropolitans and quaint, warm planets with people who gawked at their appearance. He's seen massive astral leviathans' open maws that span galaxies and ingest stars, phantom ships made of wood and bone slice through shimmering fogs. Planets composed of intertwined living beings, made of twisting and layered plant matter, places where the stars speak low sharp words and dance over his closed eyelids and make him dizzy.

But he hasn't take Gepard to his home planet.

Gepard assumed it was inevitable; he had known a while before Sampo had taken him off Jarilo-IV that Sampo wasn't from Belobog. He'd suspected it but been unsure long before Sampo mended him back to health. It was a partially spoken truth now, while Sampo divulged more information about every aspect of the universe to him.

"When are we going to your home planet?" Gepard had asked, openly, one night they spent on a waterlogged planet with specks of land, watching as the ocean jumped up and strange aquatic creatures swam through thick air.

Sampo had scoffed, Gepard watching him stand and look out over the horizon with his arms crossed. "My home planet? Please, no need to go to that lump of rock! Trust me, it's the worst planet out here. I've walked on gas giants and burning sun's that were better than that place."

"You came from it," Gepard said softly, maybe thinking Sampo would understand why there's something clinging on the inner walls of his heart that make him want to see where Sampo came from so bad. "It can't be that horrible then, right?"

Sampo doesn't speak, but he shakes his head. "Do you wanna go out? Do you think we could swim in the water... sky... thing?" He grins and Gepard let's him change the topic, content to follow Sampo.

He doesn't talk about his planet without Gepard pushing him. He doesn't talk much of anything about where he came from, how he grew up, why he apparently spent years jumping across planets long before he ended up in Belobog. Gepard asks, sometimes, when he feels maybe he can coax a response from Sampo. But he always deflects, gives vague or contradictory answers, or only responds with tame non-answers.

Sampo acts as usual; he talks constantly, about little things or memories or stuff he wants to show Gepard. When he's not talking, he's humming, tapping his fingers against the glass control panels of the ship, kicking his foot absentmindedly against his chair with a constant metallic thunkthunkthunkthunk. He always grins wide when he looks at Gepard, sometimes grabbing Gepard by his face and pressing kisses against every inch of skin so rapidly it's almost overwhelming.

Sampo talks to Gepard when he thinks he's asleep. Gepard, every time, pretends not to listen.

"I don't want to take you back."

Their bed is small, more like a cot made for one person. Gepard had offered it to Sampo the first time they'd investigated their stolen ship but Sampo had just laughed and pulled Gepard to lay with him. Every night Sampo holds Gepard, arms locked around him and keeping his head pressed to Sampo's chest, or his own body weight draped over Gepard like a weighted blanket.

Right now, he hooks his chin over Gepard's shoulder, running fingers through his blonde hair, one hand over his side. Sampo's hand ghosts over his ribs, burning through Gepard's shirt, directly over the rough, newly healed scar.

He's quiet, so painfully quiet, and gentle, with his touch faint and entirely for Sampo's own gain. Gepard nearly drifted off, but now he keeps his eyes closed, his breathing soft, hoping Sampo doesn't feel how his heart jumps when Sampo brushes a finger over the shell of his ear.

"I don't want to take you back," he repeats softly, his words dark and low with the confession, "I'd keep you in this... stupid little ship, in the stars with me forever. If I could. If you wanted. Only if you wanted."

Gepard does want it: to keep waking up to nothing but stars and Sampo's sleeping face or exhausted grin; to listen to Sampo drawl on about all the stars and planets and strange celestial lifeforms they pass with knowledge that feels bigger than Sampo himself; to be dragged from planet to planet, Sampo's hand searing new marks into his own palm and finger prints, his excitement electric and tangible.

Gepard does, deep down, want it. He wants Sampo to himself, too. To give himself entirely to Sampo. But a part of him will always be in Belebog. They both know it.

Sampo is quiet, the next morning. More than quiet--he's subdued, faraway, as if locked inside himself. Even when Sampo isn't speaking he's loud, his presence always drawing and begging for Gepard's attention. Now he seems small, curled in on himself in the piloting seat.

"Sampo?" It feels rude, wrong to break the silence with his own voice, but Gepard does. "Are you okay?" Sampo turns his head, barely, to look at Gepard where he stands against the wall. He shoots him just a smile, but says nothing. It makes more concern coil and simmer deep in his gut.

Gepard has no clue where they are now, in the vast impossibility of space. The universe is foreign to him, but Sampo treats it like an old friend, like he knows it intimately. Gepard has let Sampo take the reigns, guide them to wherever he wants to go. It had stressed him out, at first, the lack of knowing, the unfamiliarity of new worlds. But now more than ever, he's content just being with Sampo. He'd go with him anywhere.

Where they are now, though, feels different. The outside space is dark, swirling celestial bodies of black and grey and bloody reds and browns the colour of bruises. The terrain is made up of fragments of comets, rocks, shattered formations and debris. The debris varies from collections of dust to meteors larger than their ship, jagged and broken apart like Qlipoth had shattered them open with his hammer. Gepard sees the metallic glint of wrecked ships, metal shards embedded in rock and flayed among it all.

He hates this place. Gepard doesn't know if it's him, or if it's some sort of cosmic effect, but there's a heaviness pressing on him. Maybe it's something real, tangible, or maybe it's the way Sampo navigates the wreckages and meteors with a stiff ease in his shoulders.

Gepard walks up to him, quiet behind him. He wants to touch Sampo, feel the heat of him against his palms, but for some reason he feels like he can't. Instead he places his hands on the back of Sampo's seat, his fingers barely brushing against Sampo's back.

"Sampo, are you okay? If... if something is the matter, you can tell me--"

"What d'ya think?"

Gepard blinks, finding himself shocked by the weight of Sampo's gaze suddenly on him. His eyes always have a dull quality to them, the shine underneath his pupils gone save for when Gepard whispers against his skin or presses his lips across his face. Now, though, his eyes are dark, all consuming. They absorb the light and snuff it out, making the small ship feel cold. "I... what?"

"This place," Sampo hums, turning back to focus on navigating. His smile is a practised, stiff line. "It's lovely, isn't it? Or do you find it creepy? Messy? I mean, it's a lot of destruction. There's a good reason no one but ol' Sampo comes around here anymore."

Gepard frowns, feeling like Sampo's having a conversation he's not a part of. "What do you mean? What is this place?"

"There used to be a planet," he pauses, making a noise in the back of his throat, "actually, a few planets. Small ones. They'd been under the IPC's control for a looonnng time. Until they abandoned 'em after clearing all the minerals out and leaving the planets hollow."

His mouth is dry, his fingers digging into the back of Sampo's seat harshly. Sampo's voice is light, conversational, like he's explaining one of the allegedly 'boring and lame' planets they'd passed before. "The planets were basically just rocks, before the IPC made them into mining projects and shipped a bunch of people to work away there. They left the workers when the mines dried up.

"Rivet Town looks almost exactly like the mining planets did, back then." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "The people who'd scrounged up enough money took off, taking everything they could with them. Mine supervisors left behind their working families and their kids and went back with the IPC while the planets starved slowly."

The ship slows, between asteroids and at the edge of a vast, whirling expanse of debris. It swirls around out and around a burning, black body of... of something, within the center of a shattered planet light years away from them. Gepard stares, and the sight of it burns into his eyes.

"D'you know how Masked Fools recruit people?" Sampo says it with a giggle, not waiting for a response. "Sometimes they just whisk kids away from happy families before they can remember anything. Sometimes people go to the taverns themselves and try and choke down the drinks, but that's not often. Most often, though, the Fools find hopeless, little planets and whisk away orphans seconds before... boom! Planet gone! You never forget the popping noise a collapsing, imploding planet makes."

He cackles, laughter loud and echoing off the metal walls. Gepard's hands are shaking, staring out into the ruined abyss, the remnants of planets and lives and a past Gepard can never, ever see or understand. His eyes burn and his heart aches.

Gepard lunges forward, pressing himself harshly against the chair as he wraps his arms around Sampo. He circles his chest and presses his face into the curve of his neck, holding him so tightly as if Gepard is trying to squeeze Sampo into his very being. Sampo's laughter becomes broken, wet and frantic when Gepard holds him tightly. He shakes under Gepard's tight grip, the shine of tears of Sampo's face as he continues to stare into ruined space. Sampo bites his lip, hard, to stifle himself.

"Come home," Gepard exhales, pressing his words into Sampo's skin, "come home with me. After-- after all this. I don't care how long we're out here or where else we go but please. Please come home with me. I'll copy the key to my apartment. I have enough room in my closet for you. We can--I can buy you wigs and dresses and whatever the fuck you want. Anything."

"Why?" It's a whisper, barely a question. Sampo lifts his hand and grasps the forearm pressed over his chest. "Why?"

"Because Natasha probably still needs your help, and Seele will gut me if you don't return, and Hook without a doubt misses you, and Serval pretends she hates you but still asks me how you are when you text me, and I'm in love with you." He sucks in a breath; saying it always makes him feel airy, lightheaded. "I'm in love with you, and I want you there. Why else?"

There's silence for some moments too long, Sampo still shaky in Gepard's grip. He starts to worry that he's suffocating, that it's too much, but when he tries to pull away Sampo grabs his arms and holds them there, stopping him from moving.

"... but my criminal record's gone," Sampo whines, the faintest bit of humour in his voice. He tilts his head back, eyes still red rimmed when he looks up at Gepard with a searching smile. Gepard, having spent so long with him at this point, knows what he's really saying.

"I'm sure you'll record will be as long as it was before in no time." Gepard grumbles, wrinkling his nose and letting his conflicted feelings into his tone. But he lets it drop away with a sigh, shaking his head and feeling fond. "... as long as you try not to give my Guards too much grief, Koski."

Sampo doesn't say anything, but when he smiles and laughs, when he pokes into Gepard's cheek and says that the Silvermane Captain better not go soft on him, his eyes are shining.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Johnny Slaughter x Reader housewife request

Cut this down to just the smut, you heathens

Contains: blood, knifeplay, cutting, marking, and smut

You were in the middle of stirring scrambled eggs when you felt a hand slip down the waistband of your shorts, sending a shock shooting down your spine.

"Johnny, I don't get how you're always so quiet," you said, giggling as you felt him press his toned body against yours from behind, his fingers toying with the lace of your black panties.

"Huntin' works better when your prey don't know you're comin'," he whispered against your ear before nipping your earlobe.

"You don't have to hunt me, baby. I'd be as easy to hunt as roadkill," you joked. Johnny smirked against your ear, your statement all too true.

"You're too pretty to be roadkill, babydoll," he rumbled. "I'd make you into a trophy. Hang you in my bedroom so I could look at your beautiful face every night 'fore I fell asleep."

It took some time before you'd gotten used to his fascination with keeping trophies, but the numerous animal heads hanging on your walls showed he wasn't slowing down any time soon. You leaned your weight back against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso, and smiled as his lips trailed down your neck.

Still, the hardness you felt pressing against your backside proved that the outfit you'd worn to entice him had worked, and your mind was already becoming hazy with lust.

"I been thinkin'," Johnny said, kissing the nape of your neck, "you'd make the most fuckable little housewife."

Your pulse fluttered against his lips. You'd never pushed him for anything; you'd been happy just being his girl. But the word "housewife" made your heart race. He hooked a thumb in your waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down, and his fingers quickly found your already soaked slit.

"Oh yeah?" You gasped as he dipped his fingers inside you. "You think so?"

He murmured an affirmative against your skin while he rocked his hips against your butt. "I know it. What do you think, babydoll? You wanna get married?"

Your lips curled, one of your hands flipping the burners off on the stove before you turned around to face him. His head was cocked to the side, a handsome smile on his face. Your eyes trailed down his bare chest, pausing at each scar, each one telling a different story before looking up into his deep brown eyes. "It's a tempting proposal, but I could use some convincing. Why don't you make me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. No, it was more like a predator, the type to make your blood run cold.

"Alright, I'll make you, darlin'. If you really want me to, I will."

You felt like a rabbit in a snare, squeezed between his muscular body and the stove, completely at his mercy.

"What'll it be, sugar?" He asked, his hands on your hips, and his eyes trailing down to your cleavage before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

You leaned forward and cupped the bulge in his jeans with one hand.

"Make me."

That was all it took. Johnny's fingers sank into your hips almost painfully as he yanked you against him. "You'll eat those words, darlin'," he growled.

Then he dropped to his knees and pulled your hips against his lips like a man starved. You gripped his wrists while his broad hands cupped your ass, forcing your hips toward him as he burrowed into you.

He always loved eating you out, but this time there was a primal aspect to the way he licked and nipped at your folds. Your fingers entwined in his dark locks as you moaned his name while he traced your entrance, gathering every last drop of your sticky wetness.

Johnny twirled his tongue around your clit and dove in so hard you could feel his teeth against your lips, his tongue curling upward, lifting your hips into his hungry mouth.

Desire dripped down your thighs, mingling with his saliva, while your muscles clenched and shivered. They remained taut, each nerve pulsating with sensation. It felt like an exhilarating marathon, beautiful agony traveling from your thighs to your hips. Moans spilled from your lips, and you tried to draw him closer, but he withdrew.

"This pretty little pussy is mine," he said, his voice low and possessive, before thrusting two fingers into you, making you whimper and tug at his hair. His lips descended upon your clit, nibbling it, sending sparks of both torment and ecstasy throughout your body.

"You're such a slut for me, baby girl." His fingers moved to tease your sweet spot, making your toes curl. "So fucking wet."

He stood, and you whined at the loss of his tormenting touch. His eyes were hungry and dangerous. "You're going to be my pretty little housewife, aren't you, baby?"

You gasped as he pressed against you, his hands on either side of the stove, trapping you.

"I could be," you purred, "but… I'm not entirely convinced."

His gaze darkened. "You're mine," he hissed, a predatory snarl forming at the corner of his lips.

"Prove it," you whispered breathlessly. His pupils dilated, and suddenly, you felt the tip of a blade pressing against the soft skin of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at him. Fear mingled with a strange sense of excitement, sending tingles shooting through you.

"Johnny?" You whispered as your mouth ran dry.

"You ever watch someone die?" He said, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. Johnny had always had a fascination with his Bowie knife, and sometimes you'd glimpse it stained with fresh blood, but he had never wielded it against you—until now.

"You ain't never quite the same after that, lemme tell ya."

Both of your eyes fixed on the blade as he subtly twisted it, drawing a single droplet of blood from your delicate skin. You winced, but you didn't concentrate on the pain as you were enraptured by the intense look on Johnny's face.

With the pad of his thumb, he traced the droplet and brought it to his lips. You were immobilized, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring your essence. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as if your blood were an exquisite ambrosia.

Johnny had given you love bites, sure, but this was the first time he'd purposefully tasted your blood. You could tell he reveled in it, and part of you wondered why he never asked to try it before.

You would have let him, after all. He could've had any and all of you that he desired.

As the unfamiliar tingle of blood leaving your body coursed through you, he picked you up roughly, and your legs wrapped around his hips reflexively. Your blood smeared against his abs, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to arouse him even more as he carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down like an offering.

Your eyes remained wide, adrenaline surging through you as he unzipped his pants and revealed his gorgeous erection, stroking it hungrily while his eyes devoured your body. He looked at you like a man might admire an ice sculpture, as if he expected that he wouldn't get to admire your beauty much longer.

"Baby?" You asked hesitantly as you tried to sit up in bed.

Something sinister sparked behind his eyes, and he left the room briefly, returning with a handful of rope. "Oh, you ain't getting away. I'm keeping you," he snarled, then knelt on the bed beside you, tying your wrists together and then to the bedpost with ease.

A rush surged behind your ears as he immobilized you, leaving only your legs free, trembling with both arousal and fear.

How did he know how to handle the rope like that? He'd never tied you up before, but the way he did it so effortlessly spoke of practiced experience. You'd always felt that Johnny was hiding something from you, and you had a suspicion it was directly related to his ability to make you feel absolutely helpless.

But what Johnny didn't know was, some part of you had been waiting for this. You were more soaked than you could ever remember being before, and the unadulterated bloodlust he exuded was intensely alluring.

"You ain't going anywhere," he growled, his eyes ablaze with an intensity you had never witnessed before. Your blood gleamed on his torso, and every sinew of his body appeared tightly wound, poised for imminent action. "Ready to meet the Bad Man?"

"The Bad Man from your dreams?" You let out a trembling whimper. Now, this was the figure you'd only encountered in Johnny's waking nightmares. Those harrowing nights when he'd awaken in terror, locked in a life-and-death struggle with an invisible foe. Those nights when he shielded you with his body even in slumber, and upon waking, he remained unconvinced of your safety for days upon days.

"Darlin', he's all too real," he murmured, his words dripping with a chilling anticipation. With deliberate slowness, he drew nearer, his eyes locked onto yours. When his face finally met yours, he seized your head and tilted it to the side, trailing his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, where he clamped down with savage intensity. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he pressed his body flush against yours, the taste of fresh blood flooding his ravenous mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground his hips against your stomach, his length squeezed between you both. Tears welled in your eyes, but you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before.

"Johnny," you whimpered as he continued to suck your earlobe.

"You wanted this, darlin'," he said with a chilling laugh.

You bit your lip. "I-I'm not asking you to stop."

And, for some reason, that gave him pause.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back. His lips were bloodstained, but that wildfire that had consumed him was simmering behind his gaze as he regarded you with equal parts possession and hunger.

You nodded. "Yes, really. I always knew there was something you were hiding. I want you to know I love you. All of you, Johnny," you said, even as your body shook. "And," you let your wrists go slack, "I like being claimed by you like this."

Something in Johnny shifted then. It was almost too much, the flood of emotions that swept over him, and he didn't realize it, but you felt his tears splatter against your skin.

"I love you more," he said, his voice barely a whisper. You'd heard him say it before, especially during sex, but this was different. It sent chills rippling through you. And when his aching cock slid into your wetness, you both gasped in pure ecstasy.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you against him, and groaned deeply. You felt so good that he couldn't help but pick up the pace, driving into you with a fervor. All your nerve endings coiled and tensed, already hypersensitive, and you wrapped your legs around his powerful hips in euphoria.

"I'm gonna make sure you ain't never forget who owns you," he said, and you mewled in response as he withdrew from you and reached to the bedside table, taking his knife in hand. You caught your reflection in the silver blade, your skin flushed, your lips parted and panting. You couldn't wait to see what he'd do.

Johnny used two fingers to gently circle your clit, keeping you on edge as he traced the tip of the knife between your breasts, down your belly, and to your hip where he'd marked you earlier. His motions slowed to allow him better control, and he pressed the tip of the blade into your skin again, a little deeper than before.

You winced but didn't move as he etched into your skin. Your body was screaming to have him back inside you, and his slow circles on your clit were driving you mad with desire. Pain was indistinguishable from pleasure as he carved your skin like an artist working on a masterpiece. When he finished, he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the marks he'd made. When he withdrew his tongue, you caught the small JS he'd carved just above your hip before blood obscured it.

"Mine," he said once more, and this time, you didn't argue. After all, no one else had their initials etched into your flesh.

Johnny continued to play with your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance before pushing into you again. You'd submitted to him before, but this time was different. This time, you felt nothing but pure bliss. You were his, it could no longer be denied, nor would you ever want to deny it.

The resounding slap of his balls colliding with your sopping wetness was lewd enough to make your mind spin, or perhaps it was the blood loss, but either way, you felt light-headed and airy under his command. One hand moved to cup your breast while the other continued to assist his cock in driving you to the brink.

"Are you going to be my perfect little housewife?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrust deeply into you. You could see two sides to him, the vicious and the docile, in harmony in his rapturous gaze.

"I will," you conceded, your breaths coming in sharp pants while he pistoned into your exquisitely viscous core.

"Cum for me, babydoll," he commanded. The tension that had been building since the moment he approached you sprung loose, and you climaxed hard around his throbbing length. With a guttural groan and a final, deep thrust, you felt his climax paint your inner walls before he collapsed on top of you, completely spent.

You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but they were still tied to the bedposts, so instead, you kept your legs locked around his hips and nuzzled your cheek against the top of his head. He looked up at you with the same smile that had melted your heart the first day you met him.

"Thank you, babydoll. Thank you."

[thebisexualdogdad]

fic where y/n is kinda like green arrow and he’s hooking up with donna

Donna Troy x Male!reader

● you're the resident archer of the titans

● you had known Donna since you were a teenager and it was purely platonic until 6 months ago

● Oliver always teased that you and Donna would end up together one day

● and you were certainly not going to let him know he was right

● the first time you hooked up you guys were alone in the titans tower

● and a couple of beers later you were waking up naked in her bed

● "so we…"

● "yep"

● "cool"

● "that's all you're gonna say?"

● "what do you want me to say? Thanks for the sex? I enjoyed eating you out and I'd like to do it again sometime?"

● "Diana's right you really are just like Oliver"

● "that might be the meanest thing you've ever said to me"

● Dawn is the first one to figure out you're sleeping together when one morning she goes to Donna's room to talk to her and finds her trying to sneak out of your room instead

● "Really Donna, you're hooking up with Y/N?"

● "yeah I know he's annoying but the sex is really great, like really great"

● "give me all the details"

● lucky for you not everyone on the team is so quick to figure it out

● Gar is walking down the hallway with his arms full of gaming snacks for him and Connor when it's your turn to be caught leaving Donna's room

● "Hey Y/N what's up?"

● "Oh nothing… Donna was just… helping me fix my compound bow"

● "where is your bow?"

● "uhhh I forgot it… that's why I'm going back to my room… to get it"

● "Okay have fun fixing your bow"

● the sex really is great

● especially when you and Donna were bickering on a mission and it leads to very passionate hate sex

● but thanks to her Amazonian stamina you can barely keep up with her

● "come on Y/N don't tell me you're tapping out early"

● "early?? We've been having sex for three hours already!"

● Donna loves that the only thing that can shut you up is telling you to use your mouth for something more useful and go down on her

● Oliver trained you to be disciplined, meticulous and attentive which you apply to every aspect of your life and Donna highly benefits from it

● she will drag you back to bed when you're walking around your room in nothing but gray sweatpants, bulge on full display for her

● you pick up on this and start walking around the tower like that just to turn her on much to your teammates display

● Jason "dude put that thing away"

● "no idea what you're talking about Todd"

● Donna "Y/N can I have a word with you… in private"

● she gets you back by only wearing your shirts

● and again she benefits from this because it gives you perfect access to eat her out

● you and Donna often fight for dominance

● though you usually end up letting her top you because it's incredibly hot when she's in control

● especially when she uses her lasso to tie your hands above your head while she rides you

● you finally go official after you accidentally use the g word when fighting onomatopoeia

● "hands off my girlfriend you literary creep"

● *later after the fight while shes patching you up* "you know you called me your girlfriend back there"

● "yeah I guess I did"

● "this is the part where you're supposed to ask me to be your girlfriend you idiot"

● "Oh, hey you wanna be my girlfriend?"

● "I hate that I'm saying yes"

● she kisses you and you pick her up, carrying her to your bed

● soon you tell Dinah about your relationship who then tells Oliver and he calls you just to gloat that he was right

● "I told you kid, you and Donna were always meant to end up together"

● "I'm hanging up the phone and blocking your number Oliver"

[tomssexdoll]

Secret PT.2

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF SYPNOSIS: After Y/N, Tom and Bill go home, Tom has a talk with y/n, about how he acted, why he did and to confess his true feelings. A/N: make sure you read pt1 to know what's going on in this

I smiled back, placing my hand on his, intertwining our fingers. As we got home Bill headed straight to bed, drunk and tired.

Me and Tom just slowly made our way to his bedroom, I sat down on his bed, him hovering over me, cupping my cheeks. "You're so beautiful, so angelic" he smiled, peppering kisses on my cheeks. I chuckled "well before I was ugly to you wasn't I?" he rolled his eyes "you know I didn't mean what I was saying, if I thought you were so ugly why would we be where we are right now" he crossed his arms.

I sighed "i'm joking Tom, come lay down with me" I crawled into the bed, laying on my side, Tom also doing the same thing. He pulled me closer to him, his beautiful brown eyes staring into mine. I admired his features, his beautiful lips, nose, ears, eyebrows and oh my god his jawline. His jawline could make me cum within a matter of seconds.

He held me close, kissing my forehead. "So tell me, why did you change after puberty? We were so close and then you just became a monster" I frowned "I-" he hesitated "I don't know..I guess I realised my feelings for you and was just scared, being 13 and in love with my childhood best friend was terrifying, I just thought acting bitter and distancing myself would just make my feelings vanish" he sighed, stroking my hair softly.

I smiled "that's so cute, it only took, what, 7 years to confess your true feelings?" he chuckled and hit my arm playfully "shut up, don't remind me."

"What made you do what you did tonight? I mean you've kept it up for that long why break now?" I said, curiosity in my tone, "just, the way you were dancing with that guy made me so fucking angry, I wanted so badly for it to be me, I can't stand seeing you with other guys, even when we were younger and I saw you at parties, I would get so angry I would fight literally anyone I saw" he scratched his neck, a little embarassed.

"Really? I wondered why you always got into stupid fights" I giggled and continued "I mean i've always liked you, ever since we were like 5, even when I got boyfriends in the past, which you never approved of, I always just thought of you"

He smiled like an idiot, a huge grin on his face "reallyyyy? So all that protectiveness was for nothing?" he whined jokingly "oh shut up Tom, at least you have me now" I giggled and kissed him.

"But y/n, I do like you, like A LOT, literally ask Bill, he can sit for hours and tell you how I would never shut up about you" him saying that made my heart put back all the broken pieces together. All the years I had been heartbroken from his mean and kniving words were just solved with that sentance.

"I honestly can't imagine myself with anyone else, it's always been you, did you not notice all the girls I'd hook up with would always look very similar to you" I thought about it and realised what he said was true, literally any girl I saw him sneak into his house or run off with at a party looked so similar to me, but it didn't hint anything to me back then, I was very naive.

"What do you even like about me?" I said, his eyes widened as if he was offended. "What do I not like about you? I love every little thing you do, the way you eat, the way you sleep, the way you walk, the way you laugh, the way you talk, everything you do makes me feel butterflies in my stomach, I literally can't stop thinking about you, you're ALWAYS on my mind."

I chuckled "woahh calm down" he smirked and kissed the top of my head "don't even ask that question again, I'll make you sit here for days while I nit pick everything I love about you."

I nuzzled my head into his chest, getting comfortable. My head slightly hurting from all the alcohol I had before. "You wanna go to sleep prinzessin?" he moved my chin to make me look at him, smiling softly. I nodded and pressed my lips against his, burying my head back into his chest as he held me tightly.

"Goodnight baby, I love you" he whispered, kissing my forehead before turning off the lamp on the bedside table. Both of us falling asleep in each others arms.

I felt complete, like the puzzle piece that was missing for my whole life, the one I had been searching for in many people, for ages was finally found. The answer all along was right in front of me.

E/N: IM CRYING GUYS THIS IS SO CUTE

[bringbacktim]

fwb roommate!schlatt wearing a compression shirt omgogmogomgomg i wanna ride him while he has only the shirt on

I genuinely had to look up what a compression shirt was , but Oh my god I agree wholeheartedly

Gym shirt- Jschlatt

Synopsis above

Warnings: Smut, sex , not edited or proofread , first time smut writing

Word count :985 ( I went way overboard)

Schlatt had just gotten back from a trip to the gym with one of his friends and he was sporting a very flattering black compression shirt that he wears every time cause it helps with blood flow during a workout or whatever, he thought nothing of it it was the shirt he always wore to the gym so why would this time be any different

Well , he could barely get two steps in the door before his (hot) roommate, who he casually hooked up with , launched from the couch and clung to him like a koala

"Someone's excited to see me " he said dropping his bag to his side and holding the underside of her thighs to stabilise the attack

" you're always so mean to me " she laughed peppering kisses along his neck as he gladly let her

" are you going to let me get to the shower or just cling to me forever"

"Is that an invitation?" She asked smugly

" no , I'd be too tempted to drown you" he laughed as she ignored him too turned on by the sight of him in this magnificent shirt

" why don't you skip the shower tonight?" She asked as he finally put her down and she dragged her finger down then front of the shirt , his hands firmly on her hips

" what's got you all turned on tonight ?" He asked knowing it was him but wanting to hear her say it

"You absolutely glistening in that tight shirt , I want to ride you into that couch" she smirked knowing he'd let her

"In just this shirt huh?" He taunted her knowing how hot he was acting (and looking)

"I know there's a condom in that gym bag for when I go with you occasionally" she said reaching down to grab it from the front pocket

"Don't get smart with me broad"

"I can always go the gym and find some other hot shirt wearing guy to fuck if you can't" she tried to tease , but he was smarter than that

"But none of those guys can fuck you like I can and you know that" he said through almost gritted teeth

"Prove it then" she dared him

About 3 seconds after those words left her mouth she was pulled onto his lap as he sat on the couch y/n was watching some random forgotten tv show on before schlatt came home

His trousers had been lost to the new pile of clothes disappearing on the floor , soon after her pajama bottoms also followed

As y/n straddled schlatt she couldn't believe that he had actually agreed to let him ride her in his t-shirt still hot and sweaty from the gym

Quite quickly the room became full of heavy breathes , open mouthed kisses on every inch of skin either of them could reach , but obviously no hickies because then they couldn't sleep with anyone else ( not that either of them wanted to )

Foreplay was out the window as soon as they started making out against the door , there was absolutely no need for it they were both turned on to another dimension at this fantasy

"As much as I love making out with you , can you hurry the fuck up and ride me into this couch like you promised" he said holding her hips firmly and grinding them over his as he hanged his head over the back of the aforementioned couch , shut his eyes, and groaned in pleasure

"If you insist" without even bothering to lift his head from the back of the furniture he could feel that she was hovering above him and lining himself up with her , but had to stop after the first inch and a half due to the absolute size of him

"Fu-fuck always forget how big you are" she whined from on top as she grabbed his shoulders for stability

"They don't call me big guy for nothing toots" he laughed finally looking at her who was now trying to make her way down his dick

A lot of gibberish was spoken and eyes were rolled back as she sat flush down with his hips , balling his shirt in her hands and moaning about how hot he looked in it as he basked in how hot she was

"Don't ever stop wearing this fuck shit shirt " she moaned as their bodies made various slapping noises as their skin connected

"Taking me so well fuck you're so good at this"

"This is going to be the shortest sex we've ever had" she said staring in his eyes as she bounced harder than ever on him as he agreed via moaning louder and more frequently than he had been

"Worth it" schlatt breathlessly said into her ear as she leant her head on his shoulder whining that he was so big and making her feel so good

Y/n's moans went almost too high pitched and deafening when he found her clit and started rubbing it in circles

"Oh fuck do that again" she begged trapping his hand there

"Don't even have to search for it ,can feel you throbbing through my shirt" he rubbed harder and in sloppy circles this time

"Gonna come , gonna come" tears pricked in the corners of her eyes out of pure pleasure and she never wanted it to end

He wasn't far behind her , it was far too hot for him to see his roommate (who he definitely hadn't caught feelings for) bouncing on his cock and crying and whining about how full she was of him and how good he made her feel just because of some gym shirt

"This is going to become my new favourite shirt" he half joked as he leant over the arm of the sofa to grab some tissues and clean her up

"I can agree on that one"

[7nessasaryevils]

And so we begin... Gods I'm terrified... ep 7 of Wandee Goodday: how shall thee fuck me up?

- oh great we starting it right off with fucking cuddling on Yak's chest this is such normal non-boyfriend behaviour 🙄😑

- Yak my darling, if you're looking for psychiatrists, I'd recommend one that isn't a crazed Naga prince hell-bent on revenge on a reincarnated chicken... just saying 🤷🏾‍♀️ - although I am immensely in love that Dee does bring up therapy for Yak 🥹🥹

- them just comforting each other in a physical way that isn't sex... IM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

- I have never hated a title sequence more than when it came right before I know yak was about to ask for a kiss as his reward 😤😡

- Yak being so fucking comfortable in Dee's space... I hate you both and I'm going to smush your faces together if it's the last thing I do

- WHAT PICTURE WAS THAT MY EYES SUCK!!never mind it was ter now im wishing my brain can unsee it

- yak my darling he loves you I promise!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- not me barely taking in the fact that Dee kept the picture rather than throwing it out (which... I will shake you for Dee!!) and then getting fucking smacked in the face with the first kiss poster... P'Golf you test me today

- normally I don't condone vandalism but today... YEAH YAK RIP IT

- Kao our king asking the important questions as always! (Psst shake him harder Kao please and thanks)

- Ter... I swear to god you try some shit I will snap you in half (though the sunlight is doing ✨fabulous ✨ things for Pod!) edit: in retrospect that sunlight is literally turning his eyes red P'Golf you actual fucking genius

- me as soon as ter starts speaking

- pfft Cher you absolute king ♥️♥️

-uhhh... is this the weight training equivalent of that pottery scene from Ghost??

- ohhh they're so stupid i wanna die

- Cher and Yak are the mother son relationship I never knew I needed ♥️

- CANDLE LIGHT DINNER

- TER I WILL END YOU

- ohhhh i have a bad feeling about this... but also Dee.. you dumbass put on pants at the very least when you're entering a snake's house!

- this sequence of events is most horrific and terrible and I do not like it

- I'm going to kill Ter. Anyone who stops me... beware my wrath. Yak should've broken his fucking nose.

- also the fact that Ter lives in room 666. HE IS THE DEVIL YOU ARE SO RIGHT

- nooooo yak! Baby!!

- Kao. sir. I'm going to conquer empires in your name! MY KING!!

- the break up episode is meant to be #11 not # 8 what is this?!??

- not the necklace... no please not the necklace

- I hate everything nobody talk to me

- oh cool yak made it hurt even more im going to rip out my eyeballs thanks

- NOT DEE REACHING UP FOR THE NECKLACE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

- the worst the worst the worst I'm in pain

- that's it. That's fucking it. Someone get me Vegas Therapanyakul on the phone right now, I need to order a fucking hi- never mind the idiot doctor fell asleep. My sincerest wish is that Dee knees Ter in the balls as he gets up.

- Taem baby girl what was that??? 😦😦🤨🤨🤨

- sassy english my beloved 🤣🤣

- oh... ohhh no no no no no no- oh what the fuck what the fuck YAK CONCENTRATE BABY

- did i fucking expect the grim reaper? No. And neither did Yak if that right hook was any indication ouch!

- yak and yei fighting... this epsiode really said how can i hurt Nessie today....

- ohhhh fucking fuckity fuck why won't this epsiode let me BREATHE

- yak's face when he see Dee!!!! His teary eyes!!! I ACHE THANKS

- ROOF TOP KISS SCENE MY FUCKING BELOVED IM SO FUCKING OKAY GEWNFUCKINGCHANA 😭😭😭😭

- also throwback to The Sign and their bolster light effect I have never been the same again

- I 'm just gonna die in a corner bye don't look for me I do not exist to any of you

This episode has finally culminated in the kiss we all have been waiting for and I don't know about any of you but I feel the same as I did three years ago watching Bad Buddy. The absolute joy and heartache in me as these boys who so clearly love and care for each other finally acknowledge their feelings.

Next episode is also coming for my existence and I shall keep myself alive until then to regale you all with my incoherent screams ♥️

Until next time! 🥊🩺

[roadkillremi]

Your Dom!Randy smut is killing me in the best way, I need more of it but what if reader is a little bit of a brat (I just need brat tamer Randy for my soul)

Yessss. College Randy is on my mind... So it's gonna be college Randy.

Brat.

Dom!Randy X F!Reader

(^ I imagine this is his face in most of the fic. ^)

MasterList

Summary : Randy and Reader experiment in the bed.

Warning : MINORS DNI, language, mentions Tatum's death, mentions Tom cruises penis, unprotected sex, degraded, praised, tied up, Dom!Randy, name calling ; slut, brat, orgasm denial.

If you liked being called a slut and told what to do in a romantic way this is for you.

In the beginning of Randy and your relationship you were the dominant one. You were Randy's first and helped him navigate how to pleasure you. Over the course of the summer after graduating he had a bit of a glow up. His ego also boosted a bit, which isn't a bad thing for him. But as his ego boosted he wanted to dominate in bed or in general.

In class when you sat by him his hand was on your thigh constantly. He'd sometimes squeeze your thigh giving you a soft smile. You'd smile back at him before returning your attention to class. After class he'd wrap his arm around you, holding you close to him.

"What do you wanna do tonight?" Randy asked as opened the door outside for you. You hummed to yourself, "I heard there's a new diner in town.". Randy nodded, "I don't feel like going out. Is that okay?". You grabbed his hand, "I guess... What do you want to do?".

"We can always watch a movie." He suggested. You gave him a look, "You chose the most stupid movies.". He looked at you a bit offended, "Whoa! Okay Miss. The Craft is good.".

"it is! I know you think it tried to be a horror movie but it's good!" You defended quickly. Randy raised an eyebrow at you, "Sure. Then what movie?".

"nothing with Jamie Lee Curtis tits." You snapped. He laughed under his breath, "why? Jealous?". You rolled your eyes and sat on a bench under a tree.

"No. I just.. don't want you looking at her tits." You explain. He just grins, "sounds like jealousy.". You rolled your eyes, "Well what movie, Mr. I have a superior movie taste.". Randy gave you a look and leaned in closer.

"And you think yours is better? Remember when you'd try to see Tom Cruise's penis in those movies with Tatum?". You smiled at the thought of the memory.

"that was different.. Tatum was.." you trailed off. Randy realized what he said and cupped your cheek.

"Sorry.. I.. I know Tatum was your friend.". You softly smiled, "It's fine. But uh... What movie?".

"Uh.." he leaned back into the bench. You looked up at him, "Black Christmas?..". He nodded, "Sure. It'll do!". You smiled, "your dorm or mine?".

"Paul is studying so yours." Randy got up grabbing your hand. You both walked to your dorm. As you walked into the building other girls looked at the two of and snickered a bit.

"why are they laughing?" Randy whispered. You smirked, "they think we're hooking up.". You unlocked your door letting Randy in, "Sydney's busy so..". Randy laid on your bed, "Mm.. your beds so comfy..".

"that's cause I wash my sheets unlike you." You say with a smug smile as you sit on the edge of the bed. He sits up leaning close to your face.

"you're so mean." He jokes. You smiled and kiss him, "I'm just playing..". He gets up and puts the VHS in the TV. You sit cris cross on the bed watching him. He looked around your side of the room as he waited for the TV to load. His eyes widen as he spits a lacey ribbon poking out the drawer. You also notice it at the same time you get up and shove it in the drawer.

"Sorry- I just...uh. it was something I bought." You rambled. Randy raised his eyebrow and opened the drawer, "Is that?..".

"No." You close the drawer. He glances up at you, "What are you hiding?" He softly laughed.

"Randy it's just something I bought!" You whined.

"then let me see.." he leaned down close to your face. You huffed, "You can't.. laugh..". He smiles, "I'd never laugh.".

"You said that last time!" You crossed your arms. He smiled, "I'm sorry! You asked me to degrade you I was taken a bit back!" He laughed. You gave him a look, "you're laughing right now.".

"okay okay... I'm sorry. I won't laugh." He took a deep breath. You opened the drawer pulling out the ribbon and a rope tying brochure.

"Where'd you find this?.." he grabbed it looking through it. You looked away, "Some friends.. we went to.. a.. uh- bdsm.. store..". Randy looked into your eyes, "Do you like being..tied up?..".

"I don't know.. I just wanted to.. try something new.." you softly said. Randy nodded, "we can do that..". You bit your lip, "are you sure?..".

"Just tell me what you want to try.." Randy leaned against the dresser. You smiled, "Well.. have you ever heard of.. being brat.. in bed..?..". Randy went silent, "You're already a brat-".

"Am not!" You huffed. He stared at you, "oh really?- So that time when you got mad I had to work so you pleased yourself when I asked you not to? Oh! Or just an hour ago trying to pick a movie?". You went silent your face going pink, "Exactly." Randy whispered.

"That's different." You sat on your bed crossing your arms. Randy sighed walking towards you, "Sorry. Fine.. you're not a brat.". You stare at him, "well when you say it like that.." you complain. He grinned, "You're doing it now, baby.".

"Fine. Whatever! I just wanna try it.. officially.". You roll your eyes. Randy leaned down, "Well not with that attitude.".

Your stomach knotted, he already began. You shifted back some, "I mean.. we don't have to.." Randy added. He fiddled with the ribbon in his hand.

"I wanna try.." you say softly. He smiles and squats down to eye level. You observe the features of his face. His lips parted slightly twisting to a smile.

"Good." He grabs the remote and plays the movie.

"Background noise-" he explains putting the remote down. He proceeds to close the curtains and looks back at you and wiggles his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and smile. He walks over and playfully takes off his jacket tossing it.

"You're so stupid.." you whisper. He smiles, "you enjoy it.." he proceeds to crawl on top of you laying you down. You kissed him running your hands through his short hair. He leans up and grabs the ribbon from the night stand.

"Is tying up crossing a boundary?" He asked . You look up at him, "No. It's alright.". He nods, "Making sure.". He leans down to kiss you, you grab onto him wrapping your arms around his neck. He grabs your arms taking it off him. Your eyes widen, "Why'd you do that?".

"Because I can." He smiled. You knitted your eyebrows together and reached for him. He grabbed your wrist, "Touch me again. I'll tie your pretty little wrist up.". He kissed your hand before placing it down. You scoffed causing him to raise his eyebrow.

"Something you wanna add?" He asked leaning back.

"I... I just think it's amusing. Before college you wouldn't dare do this. Hell you were practically addicted to my boobs!" You smirked. Randy blankly stared at you, you smiled.

"Come on. You used to beg me to give you head... Why would I follow your orders?" You sat up leaning towards him. He looked down at you, he then grinned.

"Yeah. That's true. But who also begged for my dick that one day? You were so needy... You called me from work begging me to come to your house." He leaned forward placing his arms on the side of your body.

"I mean even the night after prom. You practically were cock drunk. You wanted me to keep going and going.." he smiled gently kissing your neck.

"Even now.. I bet you're so heated up.." he glances up at you. You close your legs together, "You wish-" you mumbled. He leaned back up, "Oh so you're not?..".

He slid your shorts and underwear down in one motion. He parted your legs open looking down at your heat. He smiled, "Mm.. you are enjoying this.". You tried to close your legs back but held your thighs tightly.

"You're really close to being tied up." He warned. You gave him a look, "You couldn't even do it... Not with that flimsy thing.". You nodded towards the ribbon, he looked down at it.

"You're right." He said standing up. He unbuckled his belt and slid it off his pants. He grabbed it walking to the side of the bed frame.

"This will do." He smiled grabbing your wrists. You tried to yank your wrists away from him. He held them tightly as he put his knee gently on your hip. He tightly your wrists to the bedframe. He yanked the belt to check it, he got up and looked down at you.

"Don't think I can do it?" He smiled. You closed your legs and stared up at him. He smirked, "So pathetic." He hummed. You huffed, "I'm not pathetic..". He grinned, "Of course not. You're just tied up like a toy.".

"I am not your toy." You spat. He sat down on your bed, "So what are you then?". You went silent staring up at him. He opened your legs back up smiling down at you. He unzipped his jeans taking himself out. He smiled and put your legs on his left shoulder. He thrust himself between your thighs slightly going through your folds. You whined looking up at him, "What is it?" He asked.

"Stop teasing." You mumbled. He smiled, "Oh like you don't tease me." He continued to fuck your thighs. You pushed your hips towards him wanting more. He stopped and gripped your hips pushing them down.

"Now you want me to use you? What do you want, huh? Stop acting like a little slut." Randy smiled. You whined leaning back, "not a slut" you whispered. He grinned, "Sure.".

"What is it you want?" He added. You looked away from him, he grabbed your chin making you look at him.

"What is it?" He asked again, this time more stern. You sighed, "I.. I want you.".

"I know that. What exactly do you want?" He smiled. You pulled on your wrists, "to untie me.".

"Not a chance." Randy said quickly. You whined, "I want.. I want you to fuck me.". He tilted his head, "Please?" He implied for you to say.

"you don't have to say please to me." You smiled. Randy grabbed your jaw, "Don't act like I won't leave you here with a vibrator tied to your clit. No matter how overstimulated you get. I'll leave before Sydney finds you all tied up. How does that sound?". Your eyes widen, "Y-you wouldn't..". Randy got up grabbing your vibrator from a drawer.

"I would." He smiled turning it on. You shook your head, "Please don't.". He turned it off and placed it on the bed. Randy sat back on the bed and parted your legs.

"Done being brat?" He asked glancing up.

"I guess.. for now." You say with a grin. He leaned over your body, your face inches away from each other.

"Are. You. Done?"

"..Yeah." you whisper. He looked at your face a bit confused, " 'yeah'?".

"Yes, Randy." You whisper softly. He gave you a quick peck before sitting up.

"Good.." he watched your body stiffen waiting for the 'good girl'. He just grinned and rubbed his finger along your folds.

"So wet.. all for me?" He smiled. You gave him a look, "No it's for Tom Cruise.". Randy returned you a look and turned on the vibrator.

"I'm joking!" You quickly shouted. He turned it off and laid on his stomach. He softly kissed your lower abdomen.

"you have such a cute stomach.." he mumbled as he kissed it. You watched him and slowly wrapped your legs around his upper torso. He smiled moving your legs, he placed your thighs on his shoulder. He parted your folds with his tongue. He dragged it through while looking up at you. You shivered at the feeling, he buried his face into you. His tongue entered and swirled around. Soon his fingers joined, he reached for your vibrator turning it on and laying it on your clit. It all became too much for you to handle. Your body tensed up and your legs tightened around him, he stopped and sat up. You whined loudly, he smiled and turned the vibrator off.

"N-no.." you breathed heavily. He looked down at your body, "Yes.".

"I.. I didn't even come.." you complained. He smiled, "poor thing.". You glared at him, "That's not gonna help you." He smirked.

"please Randy." You mumbled. He blankly looked at you, "I don't fuck brats.". A whimper left your lips, "I'm..I'm not a brat! I'm just needy!" You shouted. Randy just stared at you, "If you wanna be fucked so bad. Learn to shut the fuck up.". You huffed, "Sorry." You whispered.

"Hm? What'd you say?" He leaned in. You stared at him, "I said... Sorry-" you groaned. He smiled, "You don't sound sorry.".

"I'm sorry." You say lightly. He smirked, "Good girl.". You yanked your wrists immediately wanting to pounce on him. He laughed, "You like being called a good girl?". You nod, "Well just act like one and you'll be called one." He added. He bites his lip thinking, "I have an idea...".

"what is it?" You ask. He looks at you a bit seriously, "would you be okay with me tying your hands to your knees?". Your face went red, "Yeah..". He smiled and went to your closet pulling out another belt.

"Now if you play your cards right.. you might get exactly what you want.." he whispered as he undid his belt. You shook your wrists letting them relax.

"just tell me when you're ready." He whispers watching you. You move your wrists around and then nod, "Ready.". He kisses your forehead before buckling your wrist to the side of your knee. He went to the other side and did the same. He proceeded to help turn you over on your knees.

"Need a pillow, baby?" He asks, rubbing your back. "No.." you whisper, he goes behind you and rubs your ass gently. You fluttered your eyes closed waiting for him. He slowly thrusted in and didn't move. You tightened around him, "Randy.." you whined.

"Hm?"

"More...".

"Ask nicely." He groaned. You sighed, "Please give me more..". He smiled and continued to thrust. He thrust a decent rhythm watching you move your hips back.

"R-randy?"

"Y-yeah?" He breathed heavily. You smirked, "I need more..". Randy leaned down his hands traveling up your shirt cupping your breasts. He took long thrusts slamming into you every time. You groaned moaning into the bed.

"That's it.. now say you're a filthy brat." He whispered in your ear. You leaned up a bit, "W-wha?". He grabbed your hair pulling it up so your head is by his.

"You heard me.. don't act so innocent." He kissed your neck. You moaned softly, "I'm a filthy.. brat..". He smiled, "Good girl.". He thrusted quickly chasing his release. He finished before you had the chance. He leaned against you breathing heavily. You whined and looked over at him.

"Sorry.. I had to punish you for your attitude somehow." He smiled before kissing your cheek.

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.15

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 1367

Warnings:....none?

Mike looked over at her as they watched the movie, seeing the bored expression on her face,

“This really doesn't scare you at all?” He asked and she sighed.

“Slasher flicks don't scare me.” She said, “A) the body has roughly a gallon of blood in it, these people are losing multiples of that per injury, and some of the injuries are basically just overly dramatic papercuts. B) jump scares are the fart jokes of horror movies, good if they're done right, tacky if overused, and this movie has gone past overusing and into the realm of cringe. Give me a good psychological horror any day. Sometimes less is more.” She caught his pout when she was finished and blinked at him. “Mike, were you hoping that I'd be all scared and jumpy and hide myself on you?”

“Maybe.” He pouted and she snorted, pulling him towards her by his hoodie and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You're adorable.” She said and he smiled, his hand coming up to hold the side of her jaw as he leaned in for another kiss. He pushed her back against the couch, pressing down onto her as his lips moved against hers.

“Hey you two.” Sy said as he came into the living room and Mike picked his head up. “I interruptin'?”

“What's up, Sy?” Stephanie asked, her hands pressed to Mike's chest.

“We're headin' to the wolf bar in town in you wanna join us.” He said, “If not, one of us will stay behind so shithead doesn't get ideas seein' you alone.”

“Wolf bar?” Stephanie asked.

“Not strictly advertised as such, but it's like a cop bar but for wolves, we just all kinda congregate there. The town and businesses are neutral territory so no one tries to pull shit.” He explained and she and Mike shared a look.

“Yeah, why not.” Stephanie said, “Sounds like fun. You don't think Jordan will try anything there, do you?”

“He'd set off the radar of every wolf in there if he so much as stepped foot in it.” Sy said, “They'd hand him over to the Council, eventually, but he'd be bleedin' when they do. Just in case, I'll let security know what's goin' on. They're all wolves, so if they get a tickle, they'll circle the wagons around ya.”

Once a game plan was established, they got ready, Stephanie changing out of her lounge clothes into a pair of jeans, a long sleeved v-neck and a pair of dark flats. Mike stuck to his hoodie and t-shirt combo, August wore yet another beige button up with a white-shirt underneath, Sy opting for jeans and one his of Lynard Skynard shirts that had definitely seen better days, Walter in a dark cableknit that did absolutely nothing to hide how wide his shoulders were, and Geralt stuck with a black shirt and black jeans which only made his coloration more striking. They were about to head out when August stopped her, looking down at her with his arms folded over his chest and his brow furrowed in a scowl.

“What?” She asked and he reached over, grabbing one of Walter's scarves from the hooks by the door and looping it around her neck so lay on her chest, covering what had been bared by her shirt's neckline. “Really?”

“You could change.” He suggested and she rolled her eyes.

“August, I don't care if guys peek at the cleavage, and you shouldn't either seeing as you've seen the whole thing and they never will.”

“I'd rather they not peek at all, Princess.”

“Get over your insecurities and walk out the door. Let's go.” She said and shooed him out the door, Sy locking up behind them. She walked with Sy and Mike towards his truck, pulling the scarf off. “Walker.” He looked at her and got a face full of scarf after she threw it at him, sticking her tongue out at him as she got into the passenger seat of Sy's truck. Geralt and Walter rode with August in his SUV and they set out, heading down the winding access roads to the main town.

The bar itself was busy, a few road bikes parked out front as well as trucks in the small parking lot. Given the fact that they were surrounded by forest and mountains, it didn't shock her. Sports cars and sedans weren't exactly great with mountain roads. She dodged August as he tried to smack her on the butt, swatting away his hands and making Mike laugh. The others went off into the depths of the bar as Sy explained what was going on to the head of security, Stephanie giving him a shrug when he turned an arched brow towards her.

“Don't worry about it, Sy.” He said, “That Feral isn't going anywhere near your Mate.”

“Thanks, man.” He said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, doll. I need a beer.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he settled his hand on her hip as he steered her away towards the bar itself. They got their beers and talked, but she noticed that he kept looking over at the others playing pool in the corner with a couple other guys.

“Go on.” She said, moving her head at them.

“I just don't wanna leave you alone, babe.”

“You're not.” She said, “The bar is filled with people who, I'm assuming, are mostly wolves and security is already keeping an eye out. I'm be fine.”

“I also don't want you to think we're abandonin' ya the first chance we got.”

“I don't.” She reassured him and he gave her a small smile, squeezing her thigh and moving off. Turning on the bar stool, she watched him head over to the others, leaning back against the bar. It was nice seeing them like this, socializing, more relaxed. Even August and Geralt were smiling, sort of. A small group of women approached them, scantily clad with drinks in their hands. She didn't know if they were wolves as she had no way to tell, but they didn't need to be. The guys were all attractive in their own ways, so it was no surprise that they were getting attention. And August was worried about her.

“It's always gonna be you.” She kept Sy's words wrapped around her mind like a shield, protecting herself against the insecure thoughts and anxieties. Someone slid up to the bar next to her and she spared them a glance out of the corner of her eye. It was a squirrelly looking guy with dark hair down to his collar and his attention was fixed on her, a smile which he probably thought was charming turned in her direction.

“What's a pretty little girl like you doing in a bar filled with big bad wolves?” He asked and she paused, arching a brow at him.

“Drinking a beer.” She said simply, raising the said beer to her lips and taking a sip.

“Haven't seen you here before.”

“Haven't been here before.”

“You come by yourself?” He asked.

“Nope.” She said and moved her head at the pool tables.

“Your friends are pretty too.” He thought she had come here with the group of women, because of course he did. “Why don't you invite them over to join us?”

“That's a great idea.” She said and caught Sy's attention with a gesture, beckoning him over. He tapped Walter's chest with the back of his hand and he got the others attention. They put the pool cues back and made their way towards her across the bar and she caught the guy's smile fade as he realized his mistake.

“Hey, babe.” Sy said, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “Who's this?”

“No idea, but he said you guys should come over to join us.”

“That was nice of him.” Walter said.

“He also called you pretty.” Stephanie said with a smile.

“Thanks, man!” Mike said.

“Uh—I—” He stammered.

“Leave.” Geralt said simply and he fled quickly. She waited half a second after he left before bursting into laughter.

“Big bad wolves, indeed.” She chuckled but shook her head when they gave her a questioning look.

[megamindsecretlair]

Ugh. I needed this story today! And you delivered, as usual. I was just gonna comment but it was too long. Comments are definitely out of order like I was taking notes on each page as I turned the book 🫶🏽… sorry!

Nicky is my new favorite side character!

I am feeling like Joya is personal… who is the inspo?

“if nothing else, he could hustle a dollar from a beggar.” My favorite line 😂😂😂 I’d be so upset to be described like this 😩 What a backhanded compliment 😂😂

Also, I be robbing Peter to pay Paul…. How you get to Paul first?! Spill it!

“I’m her toy for the evening” EXCUSE ME, SIR! 🫠

“Ya’ll ready or not, damn!” The DJ asked. Not this Funk Master Flex ass DJ… or is he one of them Jamaican ones in Brooklyn… hmm, can’t decide. Still, RUDE! 😂 Very accurate though.

Who is the face claim inspo for Lord AK 🤨 I am trying to see if he’s finer than Terry (probably not 😂)

He bypassed your lips to bring his closer to your ear. “I don’t take advantage of drunk women,” he whispered. He licked your neck and you moaned, shivering as if someone dumped a bucket of ice water down your veins. “I like my women sober when they’re riding me.”

WHEW! Just died.

Not the biggest fucking loser on the planet. GIRL, he ain’t say no…. he just said…. like my women sober! STAND UP. DUST YOURSELF. try again…. 🤭

So good.

- xoxo, your east coast stan

PLEAAAAAAAASE I love this. I wish I could send you a cookie (or preferred sweet equivalent)

Im so tickled by this, thank you 🥹 I rarely get asks about the fics. 🤣 never apologize, 😗 I'm beyond thrilled you loved the fic. Seriously, making my whole fn day, night, weekend, next 3 years 🤣🤣🤣 okay, I'll stop being weird. 💃🏽

Please don't gas me up 🤣 like a novel 🫠😗 you deserve all the forehead kisses 😗😗

Joya is me. I am Joya. I'm less organized than she is, but whewwww. I never wanna meet Aaron. Or any celebrity really. I don't need them mfs knowing I exist 💀💀💀🥲 because my anxiety is so bad, id die. Like I'd straight up pass out. And the problem with loving someone like Aaron? He'd be overly sweet about it to. And that'd fn send me beyond the grave fr 🫠 like please juss tell me to fuck off and move on 🥲 (he won't but yeahhhh, I don't want to meet him irl 🫠)

Thats one of my fave lines too 🤣

This is Lord AK. Ik ik. Not as fine as Aaron, but that's my baby fr 😩 Lord AK is from Issa Rae's show called Rap Sh!t. I was so excited to see him on there, so fn sweet. And yeah. Well. Im not gonna spoil it chuz I choked when I saw it and damn near cried even though it was all fictional. His character in the show was based on a real singer that hurt himself.

The fic wouldve crossed the 10k mark if I went into why she felt like a loser lol. But I figured, she is still a person behind the persona. Everyone thinks she's cool, confident, and can get any man she want. She needed liquid courage to even give him a lap dance. That was her version of shooting her shot 🤣 chuz its not like she can join a dating app or hook up with anyone in the industry chuz baby girl wants something real. So she takes that shot only for him to curve her. (Chuz she didnt use her big girl words) So she took the easy way out. And it only reinforced how alone she is.

I had so much fun answering this, thank you 🤣🤣🤣🤣

[futurequibblerjournalist]

Lol they really skipped the dating and went right to exes LOL

I'm so glad you like the long asks!!!!! :3 I don't wanna fixate on Igor and Snape for too long bc Ik that can get sort of boring and maybe irritating and totally don't want to do that to you but ummmm

1st of idk if you see it the same way but I wouldn't be like,,,, jaw on the floor if Snape was a flustered little loser LOL so I idkidk I just think Igor would take advantage of that. Idk I think you were spoton with "ooh you wanna kiss me so bad you little man" heehee but Ik you do fanfic requests... So ... Idk you totally 100% don't have to do it if you don't want to but Idk I'd love to see a fic of it!! Ur writing is scrumptious :33

Umm and 2nd 2nd why do you think Igor's so scared of Snape?? :0 I know (or at least think LOL) that is bc he's like all mysterious and mean as a teacher and that's why people are so spooked out but Igor's like,,, seen him naked LOL so idk I'm just curious :3

Sorry for so much spamm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- 🍃

Ahhhh I love the spam so much!! It’s been a tonne of fun but also oh damn the fact that anyone wants to listen to my silly little rambles is wild to me still lol

They definitely went from like,, annoyances who share a dorm room to something vaguely friendly to fucking to vaguely friendly (depending on who else they’re getting shipped with or if they ever stop fucking around at all) to betrayal to bickering exes. They are so awful lmaooo

Chatting about them has been very fun but please feel free to ask me about any other characters!! Even ones I haven’t before/haven’t mentioned!!

I think it takes a certain kind of approach to turn Severus Snape into a flustered little loser, firstly because you have to make it clear to the little dingus that you’re actually being serious first. There is a sense of “we’re both aware you’re ugly but at least I can use your body for something” element to these two ngl but!!! That’s just how they are you know??? It sounds shitty but no one claimed these two were healthy. I’ll definitely write one Igor Karkarov trying to seduce Severus Snape in the most horrible way into my little book of things to write at some point!!

I’m not sure if scared is the best word (if I’m the one who originally said it then this is me officially correcting myself lmao) a better word would probably be intimidated. Specifically after the whole ratting him out thing, before that I don’t think he was particularly intimidated of him which probably threw Severus off because he’s used to that being his main defence and all that. I think especially after they start hooking up but before the whole him ratting him out thing there is very few things Severus can do to intimidate Igor because he can do his whole rant around Igor being a vile cockroach meathead who only thinks with the wrong head but Igor is just going to lean far too close into his personal space and say some dumb shit like “I don’t remember you complaining this much about the head of my cock when it was buried deep inside you last night” and then he does his stupid little laugh lmaoooo

[ambrossart]

PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 28

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough. PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 11,533

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

"See? Bitch!"

Christie's words sailed down the hallway and struck Evelyn on the back of the head, making her stop mid-stride. A gasp gathered in her chest as the hallway seemed to close in around her. Student faces blurred together. Sounds became muffled, all but the thunderous beating of her heart. I wasn't being a bitch, Evelyn thought, unaware of the students who gave her curious glances as they passed. I said hi, didn't I? What more do you want from me? Should I have gone up to you and shaken your hand? Said, "Oh my god, congratulations, I'm so thrilled for you two"? Because I am, I really am, I just...

(Bitch!)

Guilt and shame mixed uneasily in Evelyn's stomach. It made her feel nauseous. Made her want to walk back over to them and apologize profusely like an embarrassed little girl at a grown-up's dinner party. Oh please, oh please, don't be mad! I'm sorry if I came off a little rude earlier. I'm just having a bad day, that's all. Please don't take it personally, Christie. Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I'd really like for us to be friends.

Yes.

Friends. 

That's what I do. I make nice. I make friends. I make lemonade from lemons and turn rain clouds into rainbows. 

Well, I'm not in the mood for rainbows, Evelyn thought, and kept walking. Anger simmered inside her stomach now, and she made no effort to cool it down. I have enough lemonade, I have enough friends, and I'm not gonna apologize to Christie Gibson! Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong! She's the one who bombarded me in the hallway, smelling like Vic's bedroom, casually tossing around Mrs. Criss's first name like they're best friends. I've known Mrs. Criss my whole life, and she'd never let me call her 'Tabby'... not that I've ever really asked...

Sarah Tolleson, Evelyn's locker neighbor, said bye to Evelyn as she walked by. Evelyn, distracted as she was, said nothing back.

"Bitch," Sarah muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck you too, then."

Evelyn opened her locker, hung her backpack on the hook, and absentmindedly began gathering her textbooks one by one: English, psychology, world history...

So Christie wants to talk about Vic, huh? What could she possibly have to say to me about Vic? What, does she need gift ideas for Christmas? Buy him a bong or something, I don't know... Evelyn shoved her biology book into her bag and paused for a moment, lost in thought. She returned in a near-daze and, forgetting herself, pulled out the same book and put it back on the shelf. Oh, then she calls out to me in the hallway while she's with him, so I'd have to SEE them together. What the hell was that about, huh? Did she wanna gloat over her victory? Was she trying to get me to admit I'm jealous? Okay, fine, I'm jealous. I'm very, very jealous!

All Evelyn ever got from Victor Criss was cold distance and doors slammed in her face. Secret notes. Broken promises. He'd draw her in and then push her way. Get her hopes up only to smash them to itty bitty pieces. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to let her get close to him. And now, after wasting ten years of her life, she had to accept that this was as close as she was ever going to get: this friendship with a little asterisk next to it. They were friends, sure, but only when no one else was around. It wasn't fair.

Vic was with her—in front of everybody, and he didn't even seem embarrassed by it. How could he do that with her but not with me?

Probably for the same reason Christie Gibson won the student council vote.

Because Christie was cool and Evelyn wasn't. Christie listened to rock music, dyed her hair fun colors, and had a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Evelyn wore knit sweaters and could hardly name a current song on the radio (she listened to Olivia Newton-John from time to time, but nobody would be very impressed by that). Yeah, Christie Gibson was the fun, laid-back rocker chick. She probably spent her nights going to parties and concerts. Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her nights studying and doing arts and crafts on her bedroom floor... making dozens of paper flowers for a sign that nobody cared about.

You know you're quite the artist.

Isn't that what Patrick Hockstetter had said? Yeah, he had. Last night, he was mesmerized by a tiny white daisy. It was such an insignificant little thing, yet he stared at it like it was something special, like Evelyn had somehow made a realdaisy bloom in the palm of her hand. It seemed strange for her to be thinking of that now.

Stranger still was the smile that came to her face when she did.

But then Evelyn thought of that shapeless violet, purple as the fading bruise on her neck, and her smile instantly vanished. She pushed the thought away and started unloading her backpack again.

Everyone thinks I'm annoying. Just Little Miss Busybody. I'm not cool like Christie Gibson. I'm not sexy like Manda Bosch. I'm just... just—

A long, slender finger poked Evelyn's shoulder twice, jolting her from her thoughts. She jumped away from it, startled. Her stack of books went leaning, leaning... leaning way too far! A dreadful moan sounded in her throat. She tried to correct the lean, failed, and clutched the two bottommost books to her chest while the rest went tumbling to the floor. Her disheartened sigh crashed against a boy's cry of panic:

"Oh, great," Evelyn said.

"Oh, God!" said the boy.

They dropped to their knees at the same time, hands bumping as they reached for Evelyn's psychology book. The boy made a whimpering noise and recoiled from her with a snap of his wrist. Evelyn followed his fleeing hand and saw it bury itself in a small nest of copper-red curls.

"I'm so sorry, Evelyn! I don't know what I was thinking, sneaking up on you like that. My mom always gets mad at me when I creep up on her in the kitchen, but I just can't help it. See, I used to make too much noise when I walked, and she would yell at me to stop dragging my feet, so I overcorrected and now I make too little noise. I didn't think that was possible, but someone how I managed. God, I'm so hopeless."

Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief. Soft blue eyes blinked back at her.

"Denny!"

Denny Booker responded with a frog-like croak, as if surprised by his own name. "Oh, uh... hi."

Overjoyed, Evelyn put down her books and wrapped her arms around Denny's scrawny shoulders, hugging him tightly just as she had in his kitchen the Wednesday before. Denny's face flushed with heat. As soon as their bodies made contact, his back went rigid as a plank and his skinny arms flattened against his sides.

"Sorry," Denny said once they parted. "I'm really bad at hugs, especially with, with girls. I just don't... see, I don't really know where to put my hands, if that makes sense. I'm always worried I'm gonna touch something I'm not supposed to."

Like what? Evelyn almost asked, bewildered, but she figured that would've only embarrassed him more.

Instead, she said, "It's fine, Denny. I'm just glad you're back. You are back, right?"

She stood, brushing loose specks of dirt off her stockings. Denny got up, too. He wore his backpack with both straps and kept fidgeting with the loose ends.

"Yeah... well, kinda. I just came today to drop off my homework assignments. Tomorrow's my first real day back. Oh, here, your books."

Denny bent down, picked up Evelyn's scattered books, and handed them to her with a sweet, unaffected smile. Evelyn thanked him sincerely and put them away in her locker.

"So—" Evelyn began.

"Hey, it's the Book Man!" 

They spotted Scott Kellerman at the other end of the hallway. He had been strolling through the freshmen locker area, thinking of fun, creative ways to kill a couple minutes. Now he was jogging toward them. Smiling, of course. Scott Kellerman was always smiling. He stopped briefly to give another one of his friends a high five. "Toodles, my good dude," Scott said to him. Then he rushed over to Denny and tackled him with a giant bear hug.

"What's up, buddy?" Grinning, Scott slapped his hands onto Denny's shoulders and gave him a brain-rattling shake that made Evelyn cringe and think, Oh, poor Denny. "Look at you, all rosy-cheeked and gorgeous! How you doin', man?"

"I'm, I'm good," Denny replied. "Hap-happy to be back."

"Shit, dude, you had us all freaked out in homeroom. People thought you were dying or something. As for me, I was getting ready to start sending around the ole donation jar like we did for J-Bird that one time. You remember that? 'Help, my brother needs a new kidney!' Nobody donated, though. Bummer. I guess they don't care about pot-bellied pigs in this town, not even a cute one like J-Bird."

"Oh..." Denny frowned. "Well, I'm sorry for scaring everyone."

Scott just laughed his usual carefree laugh. "Hey, no worries, dude. We're just glad to have you back. Wait, you are back, right?"

Denny nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Sweetness!" Scott said, and laughed again. "Well, hey, I gotta go, man. Got a client waiting for me." He backed away from them while humming an upbeat tune he made up on the spot. "Adios, mis amigos. That's Spanish, if you didn't already know. My teacher taught it to me today. That's right, my dudes, I'm one step closer to being bilingual, baby!" He fired off two gunshots with his fingers before disappearing around the corner.

A moment of silence passed. Then Evelyn turned to Denny and said, "Did he just say he's meeting a client?"

"Oh right, yeah... Skelly's got a little side business."

"A side business? Wow!" Imagine that, Scott Kellerman was a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur. Evelyn was very impressed, and a little confused. "So does he, like, make stuff?"

"More like grows it."

To clarify what he meant, Denny pressed his thumb and index finger together and touched them briefly to his lips. Miss Quaver, the home economics teacher, came strutting out of her classroom. Denny panicked and pretended to have an itch on his face.

"Hello, children," Miss Quaver said to them with a smile. "Nice to see you back, Denny."

"Hi, Miss Quaver," Denny said, a faint blush tickling his cheeks.

When she was gone, he and Evelyn collapsed into a fit of giggles that left Evelyn in tears and Denny hacking up phlegm. This made Denny terribly embarrassed. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve and apologized. Evelyn, who had been snorting like a pig, told him not to worry about it.

"Wow," she said afterward, while dabbing her eyes dry, "Skelly's a pot dealer. How did I not figure that out sooner?"

Denny cleared his throat one more time. "You're just wonderfully naive, I guess."

They shared another chuckle over that. Evelyn's shoulders bounced as she laughed. Denny, more careful this time, kept his hand cupped shyly over his mouth.

Then he said, "So, wait, why was Skelly dressed like a surfer?"

"Oh, because it's Groovy Monday," Evelyn told him. "Skelly's a Beach Boy. He had a surfboard, but he accidentally smacked Principal Hellyer with it, so it got taken away."

"Right," Denny said, unsurprised. "Yeah, I guess that explains your outfit, too."

"Yeah..."

Evelyn tucked her chin into her chest and shuffled back a step, wincing as she felt that familiar sting of self-consciousness. Oh, why had Denny returned to school on Decade Day of all days? If he had waited until tomorrow, he would have seen Evelyn dressed in comfy cotton pajamas instead of this hideously short dress that, apparently, made her look like a damn streetwalker. She braced herself for another searing hot stare, but from Denny Booker, all she felt was the most genuine warmth. His blue eyes were clear and kind.

"You look really nice," he said, and that was all. "Oh, I have your biology notes!"

He shrugged out of his backpack's right shoulder strap and pulled Evelyn's notebook out of the main zipper compartment. "You take really good notes," he said before handing it to her.

Evelyn flashed a modest smile. "Well, I do pride myself on my note-taking. Last year, I got these totally awesome gel pens that completely changed the way I..."

(It's a pen, Evelyn)

Her expression darkened. "Never mind," she said under her breath. Last year didn't matter anymore. "Anyway, I'm glad you found them useful."

She put her notebook away. When she turned back, Denny was rubbing the back of his neck and frowning.

"Hey," he went on quietly, "I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to visit me last week. I'm honestly really embarrassed about the whole thing. You probably thought I was having a total meltdown or something."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, I didn't think that at all. And you don't have to apologize, Denny, not for any of it. You were going through a lot that day."

Denny gave a doubtful but grateful smile. "I found my dog, by the way."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, we got a call from one of our neighbors this morning. He said Mandy Fazio found her sniffing around the junkyard last night and was wondering who she belonged to. I have no idea what she was doing all the way over there, but we took her to the vet, and she's perfectly fine, so... I dunno, I guess it was just one of those strange coincidences, just like you said."

"Yeah," Evelyn said.

A strange coincidence, indeed.

I questioned Patrick about this last night. Now, all of a sudden—

Denny's face paled, and he drew back with fright. "Uhh... I have to go now."

"Huh? Why, Denny? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just, uhh..." Denny dragged his fingers through his curls. His hairline was damp with sweat, Evelyn saw, and now it was trickling down his forehead. "I just remembered that I need to pick up something from the office, and I... I need to head over there before, you know, before they close for the day. See you tomorrow, Evelyn."

He staggered backward, spun around, and sped off down the hallway... in the opposite direction of the office.

Weird, Evelyn thought, her chest tight with worry. I hope he'll be okay to return tomorrow.

She stared down the hallway for a moment longer, wondering what unseen terror had set Denny off this time. Her answer came in the form of slow, plodding footsteps. She turned around and saw Patrick Hockstetter walking up to her with a lazy, swaying stride.

"What's his problem?" he asked, seemingly unaware.

Seemingly.

Evelyn's eyes sharpened into a suspicious glare.

"What?" Patrick said, blinking at her with that same dumb, oblivious expression. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a wide, open-mouthed grin. "Wait, was that...?"

"Oh, stop it already, Patrick. As if you don't know."

He tossed his head to the side. "What was his name again?"

"You know his name, Patrick. I refuse to believe you have no idea who your fellow classmates are."

This was all just an act, and a bad one at that.

She grabbed her biology book, put it in her bag, and left it there this time. That's right, Evelyn finally had her head screwed on properly again. She wasn't floating through space or wading through a deep sea of sad thoughts. She was here, grounded firmly in reality... and keenly aware of how close Patrick had gotten. His warm breath fanned the side of her face.

"Believe what you want," Patrick said, "but as far as I'm concerned, you and I are the only two people in this school."

Evelyn turned to meet his empty, probing stare. When she did, a chill ran up her spine. Looking into Patrick's eyes was kind of like staring into a void. It was like leaning over the side of a ship and gazing into the deep, dark ocean below. Your survival instincts tell you to step back from the edge and walk away, but before you do, a small part of you wonders, What if I jumped? 

Evelyn was hearing that voice now, tempting and frightening all at the same time. She pulled away from it, away from him, and said, "No offense, Patrick, but that sounds kinda like a nightmare."

"Really?" he said. "I think it sounds pretty nice."

His eyes told her he wasn't kidding. But he had to be, didn't he?

Another shiver rolled through her. Evelyn put the question behind her and finished packing up her homework.

"So," Patrick went on, leaning against the locker beside her, "did he finally find his dog?"

Evelyn's eyes sharpened again. Strange coincidence, my ass. 

"Oh my god!" she said.

"What?" Patrick asked, looking at her with genuine surprise.

No.

Seemingly genuine.

Evelyn jabbed at his chest with an accusing finger. "Oh, you... you are so transparent!"

"What? I'm just making conversation."

"Yeah, sure you are, Patrick."

"I am," he insisted. Then his eyes flattened. "Wait a second, you still think I took that dog, don't you? Listen, Evelyn, before last night I didn't even know who that kid was, okay? I mean, jeez... you torture a few puppies and you're branded a dog killer for the rest of your life. Where's the justice in that?"

"Yes, Patrick, you're the true victim in all of this."

"Whatever," he said. "I'm sick of talking about this. Anyway, what are you doing after school?"

Evelyn gave him a tired look.

"What?" Patrick said. "We're friends, right? Friends hang out after school."

"Don't you have detention?"

"In theory," Patrick answered, "but realistically, it wouldn't be too hard for me to slip away for a few minutes... you know, if you wanted to find an empty classroom and let me fool around under that cute little skirt of yours." He eyed it with a lustful smirk, then started teasing the hem with his fingers. "By the way, have I told you how much I like this outfit? You should dress like this more often."

And with that, down went the judge's gavel.

It's official: I'm dressed like a whore.

"The stockings kinda ruin it, though," Patrick finished, observing them with a frown. Shamelessly, he tried to sneak a peek under her skirt. Evelyn swatted his hand away without looking.

"It was forty degrees out this morning, Patrick."

"Is that cold?" he asked, but he didn't wait for Evelyn's answer. "So you wanna hang out or not?"

"Can't. I'm grading quizzes for Mrs. Lafferty."

It was part of Henry's plea deal. In exchange for Mrs. Lafferty's support, Evelyn agreed to grade her quizzes for the rest of the semester. And how did Henry pay her back? The only way he knew how: with cruelty and malice. No good deed goes unpunished, right?

"Oh?" Patrick said, sounding very intrigued. "And will you be alone while you're grading these quizzes?"

"No, Mrs. Lafferty will be there. She has a student staying late to take a quiz."

"Well, I don't mind an audience... although it might make you a little uncomfortable."

Evelyn heaved a loud, frustrated sigh. "Okay, I'm leaving now," she said, and closed her locker. When she tried to walk away, Patrick gently grabbed her wrist.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he said, chuckling. "What are you doing on Friday night?"

"Friday's the homecoming game, Patrick."

"Okay, that means nothing to me... but I'm assuming you're going?"

"Yes, Patrick, everyone's going."

"Oh, everyone's going, huh?" His grey-green eyes gleamed. "So if I go, I'll probably see you there."

"Probably."

"Cool." Patrick smiled, very pleased. "We can hang out then."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Patrick."

Evelyn pulled her hand out of his grasp. Patrick frowned as he watched it slip away.

"Why?" he asked in a sullen voice. "You ashamed to be seen with me at a school event? Afraid of what your friends in the student council will think? What Jake Newham will think?"

"Of course not," Evelyn said, but she realized that was a lie. She was ashamed to be seen with Patrick, deeply ashamed, and now she felt like a total hypocrite.

Evelyn grunted low in her throat, regretting this decision with every fiber of her being. "Okay, fine, we can hang out at the homecoming game, but—" She raised her finger and spoke in her stern babysitter voice, the one she pulled out when a stubborn child refused to obey her. So far, she had only used it once: when Max Kenton wouldn't stop pulling his sister's hair, that little shit. "Don't ever interrupt my lunch meetings again, Patrick. Okay? I use those meetings to conduct very important business. The last thing I need is you feeling me up under the table."

"I thought that was a bug," Patrick said with a cheeky little smirk. Evelyn put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows, another trick from the babysitter's handbook. Patrick threw his head back and let out a disgruntled moan. "Okay, fine, I won't bother you at lunch anymore."

"Thank you." Evelyn smiled, pivoted on her heel, and walked away with a confident strut. Halfway down the hall, she stopped. "Oh, and I'm reenacting the 'No Touch' rule."

Patrick's jaw clenched. "What?"

"We're friends, right?" Evelyn wore a charming yet taunting smile. "Friends don't touch each other like that."

"Well, maybe not your friends," Patrick said, but ultimately he gave in. "All right, Evelyn, you win, but the same clause applies as before. Fair enough?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together tightly, holding in a laugh. "Sure, Patrick. When I beg you to touch me, feel free to go crazy." She released the laugh once her back was turned. It burst out of her in a series of giggles that rang throughout the hallway like the delightful tinkling of bells.

Patrick listened to it, smiling. "I plan to," he said to himself. Then, before she got too far: "Oh, Evelyn, just one more thing."

She turned around, still giggling. "Hm?"

"I love how you said 'when' and not 'if.'"

Evelyn's laughter caught in her throat, almost choked her.

Patrick's smile grew. "See you tomorrow, Evelyn." He backed away, slipped around the corner, and was gone.

Evelyn stood paralyzed, speechless, her face getting redder and hotter by the second. "That's just... semantics!" she declared, her arms flopping helplessly at her sides.

God dammit, she thought. How the hell does he do that?

It's because he's so attractive, that's what it is. Puberty screwed me over real good, but it gave him a massive growth spurt that turned him into a fricken Adonis. How is that fair? I get a flat chest, no hips, and Patrick gets the chiseled bone structure of a male model. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He's not that good-looking... No, actually he is that good-looking, and it's really unfortunate. If he looked like he did in elementary school, I wouldn't be in this predicament. He's vile and repulsive, but then he smiles and acts so weirdly charming. Oh my god, I hate that I just used the word "charming." But he is. He's grotesquely charming, if that's even a thing. Like most of the time I wanna slap him in the face for the shit he says, but other times, I wanna grab him and...

No. 

Wait. 

Oh my god, he's doing it again! 

Last night, he confessed to murdering cute, fluffy puppies—and I love puppies!—but I'm not even thinking about that right now. No, I'm too busy thinking about his hand under my skirt. I swear to God, if he ever tries something like that again, I'm gonna punch him in the face. Right in the middle of the lunch room, too. Who does that? A sexual deviant, for one. That was practically assault! But I have to smile and go along with it. I have to give him what he wants; otherwise, this torture will never end. 

Problem is, I have no idea what he wants. It's not sex, that's for sure. No, he's just using that to distract me... but from what?

Her steps slowed in the middle of the hallway. While contemplating Patrick's motives, Evelyn was fiddling with her right pinky: tracing over it with her thumbnail, bending it, squeezing it until the tip turned reddish purple. Down the hall was Mrs. Lafferty's classroom. The door was propped open, waiting for her to go inside. All right, that's enough now, Evie. She snapped out of her daze, picked up the pace and

"Bye, Manda!"

"See you tomorrow!"

froze as a senior brushed past her right shoulder.

"Whoops, sorry," the girl said, and Evelyn got a big whiff of her spicy, exotic Yves Saint Laurent perfume. It was a woman's fragrance, strong and intimidating, and it masked the soft, sweet, candy-like scent of Evelyn's drugstore perfume. The smell overwhelmed her for a second. Made her nose wrinkle in a silly, childish way. She recovered quickly and spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of the girl's long, thick fishtail braid as she went around the corner. Wrapped around the tail end, winking in the light, was a metallic silver scrunchie.

Evelyn's breath hitched. "That's..." and her feet moved on their own.

Inside the senior locker area, Manda Bosch was humming U2's "With or Without You" while she strolled toward her locker with her books cradled in her arms. The heels of her boots thumped against the tile. Her wide, womanly hips swayed sensually inside a pair of high-waisted, loose-fitting jeans. A black long-sleeve shirt, which she wore tucked, hugged her upper body like a second skin, showing off her ample curves.

Evelyn, who had no curves, was sick with envy. She crossed her arms over her small breasts, feeling unsexy and unfeminine, and thought, If I looked like that, then maybe... 

No.

She inhaled sharply, her brown eyes glazed with panic and fear.

No, I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake! Why did I think seeing her would make this any easier? I was having a hard enough time accepting that Henry had sex with someone else, and now that "someone else" has a name and a body and... and I don't think I can handle seeing her face right now. If I see her face, then it becomes real and

A single tear rolled down her cheek, her lips, her chin.

I should go, she told herself, and stepped back. Mrs. Lafferty's waiting for me. I promised I'd grade her quizzes and...

She took one step forward, then another.

Manda Bosch was standing in front of her open locker now, still humming, occasionally singing under her breath: "With or without you… With or without you, oh..." The inside of her locker was decorated with pictures of her friends, her family, and her longtime boyfriend, Matt Aikman, a freshman at USM. Manda was pulling books off the shelf and putting them away in her backpack. While she did this, Evelyn couldn't stop staring at her hands. Manda Bosch had these long, red, perfectly pointed fingernails, and they had cut Henry's face.

At first, the sight of them filled Evelyn with intense, overprotective rage. She wanted to storm up to her and say, "How dare you put your hands on him?" But that feeling passed so quickly. It was there one minute, burning her from the inside, and the next it was gone. It had cooled and hardened into a giant lump that sat in the pit of her stomach, and now a cruel voice was whispering,

What else did she do with those hands?

No, Evelyn didn't want to think about that, not now, not ever, but her mind started conjuring up images on its own. Casting them onto a giant silver screen. Manda Bosch running her hands through Henry's dirty blond hair. Brushing the side of his face with her fingertips. Slipping her hands underneath his shirt and touching him lightly, caressing his stomach, his chest, sliding around to feel the strong muscles of his back.

Evelyn watched the whole film from beginning to end, unable to look away. She was trapped in the middle of a crowded auditorium, strapped to a cushioned red velvet chair, unaware of the surprise waiting for her. It was Friday night at the Aladdin, and everyone in the audience was being treated to a special double feature. Two films. One night only. Buy your tickets in advance, folks, because this is one event you don't wanna miss! The first picture was one of the year's most-anticipated blockbusters, and the next one, well... that one was a classic. Yeah, even an out-of-touch workaholic like Evelyn would recognize that title. In fact, was one of her favorite films. She watched it every night.

In her bedroom.

Alone.

While she sadly traced over the wrinkles in her floral quilt.

Excited applause sprang up around her. Then the lights dimmed and the opening credits began to roll. As soon as the first name appeared on screen, Evelyn's stomach churned with dread. No, she couldn't bear to sit through this movie again. Not again. Not ever again. She got up and fought her way to the aisle, trampling women's purses, tripping over outstretched legs. All the moviegoers lashed out angrily: Get down! Get down, you're blocking the screen! I paid good money to see this flick! She ducked as a box of popcorn came flying at her. It went over her shoulder and exploded against the screen like a spray of fireworks, but Evelyn did not look. No, she would not look. She put her head down and kept moving, eyes closed to the intimate scene that was playing in front of everyone, ears shut to the men who whooped and wolf-whistled, the women who voiced quiet murmurs of disgust. Blind and deaf to it all, she stumbled into the aisle and went running for the exit.

Mr. Foxworth smiled as she passed, his eyes glowing eerily in the light. Don't you wanna see the ending? he said. The ending's the best part.

Evelyn turned back to look at him, her expression a mixture of shock and horror, and then she saw...

("Hey, you okay?")

saw the screen flickering, stuck on a single image. It burned away as a hand reached out from the darkness and landed on her shoulder.

("Hey... Hey!")

"Hey, space cadet!"

Evelyn emerged from her thoughts groggily, blinking. It was Manda Bosch, staring at her with dark chocolate brown eyes, the kind of eyes a boy could get lost in... Henry probably had, too.

(What else did she do with those hands?)

Evelyn flinched with sudden awareness. She looked down at her shoulder, saw the girl's hand, and wrenched away from it. Warily, Manda Bosch withdrew her hand and apologized. There was a small wrinkle between her perfectly shaped brows now. Her lips, red and full, had gathered into a concerned pout that somehow made her even more beautiful.

Did he let you kiss him? Evelyn wondered, devastated.

"Do you need something?" Manda asked, tilting her head. Her voice was melodious and sweet despite her confusion, much sweeter than Evelyn expected.

"Uhh... no," Evelyn said. She drew back a step and crossed her arms in front of her. "Sorry..."

Manda smiled awkwardly. Even that was pretty. "Okay, well... take it easy, okay?"

She made a vague gesture with her hand, circled around Evelyn's right, and started humming again as she walked toward the senior exit. Evelyn cupped her elbows with her palms and withdrew into herself, feeling more like a child than ever. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home, bury herself under the covers, and forget this day ever happened.

But then she heard Manda's voice again

"Hey," she said, leaning away from the door, "cute dress, by the way."

and that was more than she could take.

Smiling to herself, Manda pushed on the door and walked out. While she strolled through the senior parking lot and swung her keys, while she drove home and sang along to her favorite song on the radio, Evelyn collapsed onto the senior couch, dropped her head into her hands, and sobbed.

"Well, that test sucked."

"Yeah, I hate when they sneak in an extra essay question at the end. What kinda sick, sadistic shit is that? Like I'm stressed out enough, thank you very much, and now you expect me to write a perfectly structured, five-paragraph response to your vaguely worded question? Fuck off with that bullshit. In conclusion, you're a crazy Nazi bitch and your class sucks!" 

"Whoa, did you seriously write that? 'Cause you would totally be my hero if you did."

"God, I wish I did... I swear, every time I see that woman, I just wanna—Evelyn!"

Evelyn dried her eyes as Elizabeth Mueller entered the senior locker area with Desiree Van Blair and Peter Gordon.

Unlike most of the upperclassmen, Liz and Des had actually dressed up for spirit week. They figured, what the hell, right? It was their senior year and they wanted to have some fun before they graduated. Today, Liz was wearing a Twiggy-inspired green shift dress with an exaggerated collar, black fishnet tights, and a pair of Mary Janes. Des was wearing her Halloween costume from last year. She went as Holly Golightly from the 1961 romantic comedy Breakfast at Tiffany's, and she got really annoyed when the other students didn't understand the reference. "God, this town's a cultural wasteland. It's like living in the Bermuda Triangle or something. Nobody knows how to dress and everyone sucks."

Liz was currently gushing over Evelyn's outfit. She took the girl's hands and pulled her up from the couch to get a better look at her.

"Oh my god, you look absolutely perfect!" she said, squeezing Evelyn's face between her palms. Close as they were, it was obvious that Evelyn had been crying, but Liz was gracious enough to keep this knowledge to herself. She wiped away the last streak of wetness with her thumb and smiled. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen in my life."

Evelyn smiled back timidly. "You don't think I look slutty?"

Liz gasped, outraged. "Oh, what bitch said that? Was it Jackie? 'Cause that sounds exactly like something Jackie would say."

Desiree spoke up from the couch. She was sitting on the arm and pretending to smoke from her long black cigarette holder. "Oh my god, Liz, did you see what she was wearing today? She thinks she's Jackie O."

Liz rolled her eyes. "More like Jackie O, could you be more fucking obnoxious? Wait, was that mean?"

"A little, but who cares? It was funny."

The girls tittered like wicked stepsisters and, for a moment, appeared every bit as mean as Greta Bowie and Liz's little sister, Sally. Evelyn stood between them, feeling uncomfortable, feeling like maybe it was time to leave. Liz noticed this and her face flushed with shame.

"Oh shit," she said. "Dammit, Des, we can't keep falling back into old habits like this! I don't wanna go to college with any negativity. I may not like Jackie personally, but that's no reason to cut her down for her unfortunate fashion choices... even though she's a fucking bitch and deserves it." Liz took a deep breath and carried on with a smile. "Anyway, come sit for a minute, Evelyn. Let's talk."

Evelyn's eyes drifted toward the hallway. "Oh, but I really should get going."

Mrs. Lafferty was already expecting her, and...

"Just for a minute," Liz said, and led her back to the couch. Evelyn followed the older girl obediently. They sat side by side, knee to knee. Liz laid her hands neatly on her lap and smiled prettily at her. "So, how's the situation?"

"The situation?"

"She means Hockstetter," Des explained bluntly, while Peter Gordon went to his locker and pretended not to listen. Evelyn suspected he was listening, though, because he kept peeking over his shoulder every now and then. This made Evelyn feel a little uneasy. She didn't want to talk about this around so many people. In fact, she didn't want to talk about it at all. Not with Liz. Not with anybody. She didn't think they would understand.

"We saw that stunt he pulled at lunch today," Des was saying now. "That was bold, even for him."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "and we just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I'm fine," Evelyn said, more abruptly than she'd intended. "Yeah, I've got the situation totally under control."

Liz's made-up doe eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..." she began in a chaste whisper, a faint blush warming her face. As her voice trailed off, her gaze fell slowly, softly, and landed gently as a feather upon Evelyn's neck. "Oh..." Liz said again. Her hand went to her mouth and her blush deepened.

By now, the hickey had faded enough that Evelyn could cover it pretty easily with makeup... or so she thought. Concealed or not, a well-trained eye could probably spot it with little effort. Desiree, who had already established herself as an expert on the subject, lowered her oversized sunglasses and peered down at her.

"Wow," she said with an impressed smirk. "Yeah, I'd say she definitely has it under control, Liz. Good girl. You ride that crazy train."

Liz swatted her friend away like a buzzing fly. Evelyn quickly covered up the mark with her hair.

"It's not what it looks like," she said. "Patrick just—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself," Liz said with false sincerity. Evelyn would have thought it was genuine, but the shrewdness in her eyes gave it away. "We're not judging you or anything."

"Really?" Evelyn said. "Because it kinda seems like you are."

Her tone was sharp, and rightfully so.

"I don't know what you all expect me to do. Everyone keeps judging me for what I do or don't do with Patrick, but what nobody seems to understand is that I don't have a choice! Look, I didn't ask for this, okay? I don't know why Patrick's bothering me all of a sudden, but he is, and now there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, it's inevitable, right? That's what Marci seems to think, anyway, and honestly I'm starting to think she's right. So what am I supposed to do now, Liz? Huh? You were nice enough to warn me about him, but... now what?"

Liz Mueller recoiled as if slapped. All the color drained from her face.

"I don't know," she confessed quietly, suddenly afraid for her. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're supposed to do."

Silence prevailed for the next thirty seconds. Liz turned forward, dropped her chin into her chest, and stared guiltily at her manicured hands. Next to her, Desiree had removed her sunglasses and was gnawing anxiously on the plastic tip. Peter Gordon glanced over her shoulder and saw her doing this. He made a sickened face and whipped back around. Right now, he wanted to crawl inside his locker and close the door. He couldn't stand tense silences like this. They reminded him a little too much of home.

"Just... be careful, okay?" Liz finally said. "If things start to get weird, or you start to feel unsafe for whatever reason, make sure you tell someone. Tell your mom, your best friend, me, Marci, just... someone, okay? Most of the other girls wish they had. Shit, I know I did." She reached over and gave Evelyn's knee a comforting pat. "You're not alone in this, Evelyn. I know it might seem like you are, but you're not. We all know what you're going through."

Evelyn smiled gently, gratefully, but part of her wondered if any of them truly understood.

Time crawled forward. Evelyn looked up at the clock and saw that it was almost a quarter to four now. Mrs. Lafferty was probably getting angry with her. She was probably tapping her foot, glaring at the clock, and thinking, Well, is that little brat showing up or what? Evelyn felt guilty about that. She knew it wasn't polite to keep people waiting, and yet...

"Hey, do you guys know Manda Bosch?"

"Manda?" Liz and Des exchanged a furtive glance. "Sure. What about her?"

"There's just a rumor going around about her and a boy in my grade."

"Oh, right," Liz said, and for some reason, Des started to laugh. "I keep forgetting you sophomores are new to this. Look, you just have to learn to ignore her, okay? Manda does this kinda shit all the time, and I mean all the time. She parties way too hard, gets way too drunk, and then cheats on her boyfriend with some loser who won't refuse her. Then she sobers up the next morning, feels guilty, and cries rape to cover her own ass. It's really sad and pathetic, honestly, but I guess it works 'cause her boyfriend still hasn't dumped her even though he's way out of her league. I don't understand the appeal, personally. I mean, she must give really good head or something."

Evelyn squirmed at that remark. Behind her, Peter Gordon was coughing as if he'd swallowed something wrong.

"So you're saying she just made it up?" Evelyn asked, hopeful.

"Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for supporting victims and everything, but Manda Bosch is not a victim. She's just a sloppy, sloppy drunk who will spread her legs for anyone. That sounded really mean, I know, but it's just a fact. She even came onto Pete once, practically right in front of me."

"And I ignored that siren's song," Peter interjected passionately. "I said to her, 'No, you foul temptress, you stay away! I have a beautiful girlfriend and I love her with all my heart.'"

Liz gave him a dubious look. "Yeah, like you're going anywhere." Then, to Evelyn: "See, Pete's not the cheating type. He knows he hit the jackpot with me and he's not about to squander his winnings on some dumb, drunk slut. Find yourself a guy like that, Evelyn, and all these rumors just become background noise."

"Okay," Evelyn said uneasily. This conversation had taken a few unexpected turns and she was struggling to keep up. "So it's definitely not true?"

"No..." Liz said, but her voice sounded strangely high-pitched all of a sudden. "Well, I mean, it's probably not true... Why? Who's the rumor about?"

"Umm, Henry Bowers," Evelyn answered anxiously, and flicked her eyes away. "I don't know if you know who that is."

"Yeah, all you sophomores kinda blur together... Oh, wait, he's the really angry one, right? The kid who always looks like he's gonna stab somebody?"

Evelyn gave a reluctant nod. It wasn't the kindest description, but it was probably the most accurate.

"Huh," Liz said. "Well, that changes things a bit."

Evelyn's stomach dropped. "You think it could be true?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. Hold on a sec." Liz craned her head around and called out to her boyfriend: "Hey, Pete, you used to hang out with that Bowers kid, didn't you?"

"Yeah, for a like a summer," Peter Gordon answered shortly. He wore the tight, apprehensive expression of a man who'd just been asked to take the stand and testify as an eyewitness in a murder trial. "That was a long time ago, Liz..."

Peter was fifteen then and feeling rebellious. His parents had recently split up, and he was going through a tough time. He thought it'd be kind of cathartic to shoot stuff, smash a couple windows, and shoplift dirty magazines. Petty crimes. Maybe a misdemeanor or two. He wasn't expecting it to get as intense as it did, and there were times when Henry Bowers honestly frightened him. He'd never seen so much hate in one person.

"Okay," Liz said, "but did he seem like a rapist to you?"

Evelyn winced at that word. How could everyone throw it around so casually?

"Racist? Yeah. Rapist? No, I wouldn't quite go that far... but again, that was a long time ago. Who knows what that kid's capable of now."

"Not that," Evelyn said. "No, Henry didn't rape anybody."

Liz shrugged. "Okay, well... there's your answer. They probably just had sex."

"Sex. Right."

Evelyn gulped down both words, closed her mouth, and nodded stiffly, feeling her blood thumping in her temples. Liz and Des studied her quietly, looked at each other, and quickly put together the rest of the puzzle. When they saw the completed picture, Des cringed and Liz's pretty pink lips parted with an inaudible gasp.

"Oh..." Liz whispered, looking down at Evelyn with a sympathetic frown. "Oh, sweetie, no..."

Then Des said, "I remember when I was going through my bad boy phase. God, was that a mistake."

Evelyn's face flamed with dull anger. "No, that's not—" but a gruff voice cut her off.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Martin Davers had emerged from the hallway with a notebook wedged under his arm and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He opened his locker, tossed everything inside, and slammed the door closed. His biceps bulged under the tight fabric of his shirt. His eyes, a dark, stormy blue, narrowed into a fierce, territorial glare as he squared up to Evelyn like a menacing troll. Martin was six feet tall and heavily muscled. He used to be on the football team, but he got cut during his second year because he couldn't meet the minimum grade requirement. Now Martin was constantly looking for new ways to release all his pent-up aggression. Evelyn Tozier was his favorite target.

Liz rolled her eyes at Martin, unbothered. "Speaking of bad boys... What do you want, Martin?"

"I'm just wondering what a sophomore's doing in the senior locker area."

Evelyn flinched suddenly, forgetting where she was, and as she looked around now, all the furniture had grown shockingly large. She felt like she was sitting inside some silly funhouse where everything was comically oversized. All the lockers towered over her like skyscrapers. The couch seemed big enough to swallow her whole; Evelyn's feet could barely reach the edge. She sat upon the tattered cushion like a doll waiting for some little girl to come along and carry her off to tea time. Oh, yes, tea time. Tea time with March Hare and the Hatter. Evelyn was a child trapped in Wonderland, lost and scared, staring at the Cheshire Cat's mischievous grin.

"Look, she's with us, okay?" Liz Mueller made a dismissive motion with her hand, then turned back to Evelyn, who had shifted her weight forward in an early attempt to stand. The girl's face had gone terribly pale. "Oh, Evelyn, don't let him scare you off. Martin's just an asshole."

"No, it's okay," she said colorlessly. "I have to get going, anyway."

(I'm late for tea...)

Mrs. Lafferty was expecting her, and it would have been rude to keep her waiting any longer... yes, rude, that sounded right. It was Evelyn's good manners that compelled her to leave so quickly. It was good manners that made her press her thighs together and cross her arms over her chest. Good manners that had her staggering to her feet, mumbling goodbye to the floor, and walking away as fast as she could.

It had nothing to do with Martin's stare—that hot, searing stare that seemed to follow her down the hallway.

Evelyn started apologizing before she even entered the classroom.

"Sorry, I'm late, Mrs. Laff—" she began, but the rest of the words had tumbled inward and back down her throat. She stopped in the middle of the doorway, one foot in, one foot out, with her right arm bent at the elbow, beginning an apologetic wave. Evelyn never finished it, though. Much like her words, her hand had retreated into itself, curled into a loose fist, and fallen limp at her side. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Her heart jogged in her chest. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, forcing herself to calm down.

Before she arrived, the classroom had been quiet and empty apart from the two occupied desks. Mrs. Lafferty sat at hers with a cup of honeyed tea and was idly stirring it while she reviewed tomorrow's lesson plans. She looked up briefly when she heard Evelyn's voice. It was a very distinct voice, loud and clumsy as one might expect from a Tozier, but at least hers wasn't accompanied by crude humor and poorly performed (not to mention grossly offensive) accents. Yes, in that regard, her little brother was truly unique.

Mrs. Lafferty smiled at Evelyn. "Don't worry about it. You're in fine company. This one kept me waiting, too," she said, tipping her head toward the student sitting in the back. "He's lucky I didn't leave and just give him a zero, but I don't think I'll be getting a thank you for that, will I?"

Mrs. Lafferty was answered with silence. For once, Henry Bowers had nothing to say... not to her, anyway.

He had been hunching over his math quiz and glaring at question number four when he heard Evelyn's voice drift through the open door, her words amplified by the hollow silence that had fallen over the school. As soon as the sound hit Henry's ears, his back straightened and his heart started racing. It was an instinctual reaction, kind of like when Henry flinched whenever his dad reached for his belt. That one motion stirred up a decade's worth of painful memories and emotions and drove them straight to the surface like worms wiggling up from the dirt during a rainstorm. His dad didn't even need to beat him anymore (but he did anyway). He simply had to gesture toward his belt and Henry cowered back in submission. Yes, sir. No, sir. Straighten up and get back in line.

Of course, it was only kind of like that. There was no pain associated with the sound of Evelyn Tozier's voice (unless you counted the slight hangover-like headache that sometimes occurred halfway through a conversation with her). No with her voice, Henry felt only the most wonderful, comforting calm, bright with her laughter, warm with her smile, soft as the woven cotton blanket that he often found draped over him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Henry would sit up, look across the room, and see Evelyn passed out at her desk with her head nestled inside the crook of her arm. Usually, he would leave after that, but sometimes he would sit and observe her for a while, listening to her gentle snoring, watching her skin sparkle beneath the soft glow of her desk lamp, feeling his heart slowly thudding in his chest, getting stronger and stronger. Henry could have stayed like that forever.

Happy.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Evelyn Tozier was a sweet escape, and Henry craved her like a junkie needing a fix. It was a desperate, visceral desire that gripped him more firmly with each passing day. Growing. Intensifying. Evolving into a savage, carnal beast that was impossible to control.

When Henry heard her voice that afternoon, every nerve in his body came alive at once. He had to grip the edge of his desk because he didn't trust himself to stay in his chair. How could he when Evelyn was standing on the other side of that door? When that safe, peaceful, happy feeling was finally within reach? All Henry had to do was get up, run out that door and—

Evelyn appeared in the doorway, wearing that sunshine yellow dress with the flouncy little skirt that went whoosh-whoosh every time she moved her hips. The skirt that tempted him. Teased him. Taunted him. The skirt that Patrick Hockstetter's hand had crawled underneath like some filthy, disgusting insect... and she didn't push his hand away.

??WHY DIDN'T SHE PUSH HIS HAND AWAY??

(Because she's a whore, just like your mother)

No. No, she's not, Dad. She's nothing like—

(YOU ARGUING WITH ME NOW, BOY?)

Belt.

Flinch.

No, sir. 

Whore, sir. 

!!STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET BACK IN LINE!!

When Henry saw Evelyn in that yellow dress, his mind became a battlefield. All his thoughts were clashing against each other in bloody combat, and he didn't know which side was going to kill the others and claim him. He was being pulled in too many directions. Assaulted by too many urges. All the while, Evelyn stood there staring at him with that hopeful, frightened look, like she desperately wished he would speak to her, but she was also terrified of what he might say.

And that's when Henry realized he was frightened of himself, too.

If he ran to her now like he wanted to, he wasn't sure what would happen. In one thought, he was wrapping his arms around her and hugging her. In another, he was pushing her against the wall and smashing his mouth against her warm, soft lips. In another, he was squeezing his fingers around her neck and throttling her until all the light left her eyes.

Slapping her.

Beating her.

Bashing her head against the wall again and again and again.

(Because that's what you do with whores)

The thought rose up from nowhere. It had caught him off guard. Snuck up behind him and tried to seize control. Henry fought it back and it left easily enough, but he knew it wasn't gone for good. Eventually, it would come back even stronger. Maybe next time it would win. Maybe. Maybe—

"Head down, Mr. Bowers," Mrs. Lafferty said as she stood up from her desk. "You're here to take a quiz, not gawk at pretty girls."

"Fuck you, bitch," Henry muttered under his breath, relieved to hear his own voice again. Just his own voice again.

Mrs. Lafferty walked over to Evelyn, who had turned away and was now approaching a small table at the front of the classroom. Honestly, Henry was glad for the distance. The further away the better. For her sake. He put his head down and tried to focus on his quiz.

"You don't have to finish this all today, of course," Mrs. Lafferty was saying to Evelyn, "just the two morning classes should be enough. Whatever you have left, you can just leave in the pile there. I'll take the rest home with me tonight."

Evelyn nodded, pulled out the chair, and sat down. As soon as she did, she felt two eyes drilling through the back of her skull. Her heart bucked wildly. She looked over her shoulder and caught Henry's gaze for half a second, but then Mrs. Lafferty called her attention back and placed two red pens on the table. Upon withdrawing her hand, she said, "Oh, and Evelyn? No doodling on the quizzes, please."

Evelyn smiled back sheepishly. "Right, sorry... sometimes I get a little carried away."

After all, grading quizzes got awfully boring after a while. In that state, it was easy for her to accidentally turn a simple smiley face into a cat or a dog... or a cute, friendly little monkey swinging off the edge of the score. Evelyn was no artist, but she hoped her doodles gave the students a good chuckle when they got their quizzes back. Especially those who failed. For those unlucky few, Evelyn hoped her drawings helped soften the blow, if only just a little.

Mrs. Lafferty returned to her desk and reached for her tea. After taking a few slow sips, she lowered her cup and said with a forced smile, "By the way, Evelyn, I had a lovely little chat with your mother this morning."

"Oh?" Evelyn said, and that was where the conversation ended.

Judging by Mrs. Lafferty's expression, there had been nothing lovely about that chat, nothing at all.

Evelyn put her head down and quietly began her work: comparing each answer against the key, marking the wrong ones with her pen, counting up the marks, tallying up the final score, and printing it at the top of the page. Each score was accompanied by an encouraging message like GREAT JOB! WAY TO GO!! AWESOME EFFORT!!! Then she would place the paper in the completed pile and move on to the next one.

Behind her, Henry Bowers kept his head bent over his quiz the whole time, his expression frustrated and tense. Evelyn didn't look back at him either, not once, not even when the urge was so strong she thought she might go crazy. She couldn't bear to look at him now, conflicted as she was. It brought up too many questions... questions Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Did you let her kiss you? she wondered as she stared down at the red pen. Because I never... 

"Head down, Mr. Bowers. I won't say it again."

Evelyn sucked in a quiet breath, held it, and slowly peeked over her left shoulder. Henry's head was down again, his hand furiously scribbling on the paper. Evelyn continued to hold her breath, continued to stare, until his eyes finally lifted off the page. Henry's writing hand slowed, then stopped. Evelyn's breath left her in a long, drawn-out sigh. Then Mrs. Lafferty got up from her desk, Henry dropped his head, and Evelyn turned back around.

"Evelyn, I need to go to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes," she said, but what she really meant was, I'm stepping outside for a smoke. "Henry, you have five minutes left. Leave your quiz on my desk when you're done."

Mrs. Lafferty's heels clicked delicately as she walked, the sound drifting further and further... further away. Then there was only silence.

Evelyn sat back and stared gloomily at the clock. It was four twenty-two now, but the time never registered in her head. She was too busy thinking, hoping, wishing those hands would unwind and go backward just this once. Take them back to that blissful Before: before Evelyn wore this stupid dress, before Henry had sex with Manda Bosch, before Patrick Hockstetter picked up Evelyn's clipboard, followed her into the hallway, and asked, Where have I seen you?, before the trunk, before the stolen shirts, before the long, lonely, miserable summer... before Evelyn crossed the line and messed everything up.

Can we just go back, please? she begged. Because every day after that has been a total nightmare. 

(and she had a terrible feeling it was only going to get worse)

Evelyn gave the clock one last pleading look, and the clock stared back in silent refusal. Its hands ticked, tocked, and crept forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Henry finished his quiz, dropped it off on the teacher's desk, and—

Evelyn stood up and said, "Can you please talk to me? Because I really don't understand what I did wrong."

Her plea was weak, desperate. Henry didn't even hear it. He went around her and started walking toward the door.

What the fuck?

"Henry!" she cried softly... in her Before voice.

Henry stopped as soon as he heard it, his whole body stiffening in recognition, and for a moment time seemed to stop.

(Tick—)

Finally, he spoke. "You know, I thought..." His voice emerged from deep in his throat, strangled with grief and despair. "I thought we were..."

"What?" Evelyn said. "What?"

JUST SAY IT!

Henry's jaw clenched tightly, and his lips drew back in a pained smile. "Fuck you, Evelyn," he said and went out.

(Tock)

Evelyn's mouth fell open in a stifled cry of disbelief. Hope left her eyes as defeat washed over her. Her legs went weak, gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair, numb, speechless. Above her, the clock watched with cold indifference. Its hands crawled forward... forward... forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Sometime later, while Evelyn was lackadaisically doodling on a student's quiz, she heard the slow, dragging thumps of Mrs. Lafferty's feet coming down the hallway.

"I've already finished the first two stacks," Evelyn reported half-heartedly, "and I'm halfway through the third."

She moved the quiz to the completed pile, turned around, and froze.

Martin Davers was leaning beside the door with his arms folded over his chest.

"That's a really nice dress," he said.

Evelyn rose from her chair slowly, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. "What do you want, Martin?"

"Nothing," he answered, his eyes calm and attentive. "I guess I just wanted to know why you're trying so hard to dress sexy all of a sudden." Martin seemed to ponder this soberly for a moment, his brow furrowed in mock perplexity. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it kinda looks like you're trying to advertise something. Is that right, Tozier? Are you open for business now?"

"Open for business?" Evelyn repeated. The phrase stunned her so completely that she almost laughed. "It's spirit week, Martin. I have to dress up."

"Oh, I see," Martin said, fascinated. "You had to dress in a skimpy skirt today. That was today's theme."

Evelyn's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"Wait, that wasn't today's theme?" Martin cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Well, then why are you wearing that dress, Evelyn?"

She stared at him, unable to speak. Why had she chosen this dress? Why this dress over all the others? Mrs. Criss had dozens of modest dresses that would have satisfied today's theme just as well. She had boxes and boxes of them. Evelyn tried them on. They had fit her perfectly, way better than this dress did. Why had she cast them aside?

"I was just following the theme," she said, her eyes vacant, glassy.

"You were just following the theme." He nodded. "Okay, Evelyn, answer me this: what was today's theme?"

Her stomach twisted. "Huh?"

"Go on, tell me. What was today's theme?"

His voice was shrill and full of scorn. Evelyn shut her mouth tightly, her bottom lip quivering, and shook her head as tears flooded her eyes.

"Please stop," she whispered.

"Well?"

"Stop."

"Tell me."

She swallowed hard and answered: "It was Groovy Monday."

"Right," he said, "it was Groovy Monday, not Skimpy Monday, not Slutty Monday. It was Groovy Monday. Thank you for clearing that up for me, Evelyn, because I was so confused for a second." He smiled at her, grateful. "Now, let's go back to my initial question: why are you trying so hard to dress sexy? Because that's an awfully short dress, Evelyn."

"It follows the dress code," she said, but then from the dark, shadowy part of her mind, she heard

(barely)

another voice that made her eyes widen with a horrific realization. This really was a terribly short dress. Yes. Yes, she saw that now. Not short enough to make her parents worry. Not short enough to violate the school's dress code.

(No more than four inches above the knee... Did you measure it, Evelyn?)

But just short enough to—

Martin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you trying to get someone's attention, Evelyn? Show him what he's missing?"

"No," she answered in a shaky voice, but the other, faraway voice spoke the truth.

(Yes)

She had wanted to get someone's attention today, and she got it, oh yes, she got it. When Henry Bowers stormed up to her that morning, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against him, when he glared down at her, stared at her lips with that feral, ferocious hunger, Evelyn felt her heart flutter with such excitement. For a minute, she thought he was actually going to kiss her. She wanted him to.

(If I had been wearing this dress that day, then maybe...)

Evelyn slapped her hand over her mouth, but still the voice persisted:

(Yes)

(Yes)

(Yes)

(and you got what you wanted, didn't you?)

(Yes)

(Yes)

(Yes)

Guilt crept into her heart and devoured her slowly, leaving her hollow and cold. "Look," she said huskily, blinking the wetness from her eyes, "Mrs. Lafferty's gonna be coming back in a minute, so..."

Martin clucked his tongue in dissent. "I think it might take her a little longer than that."

For a moment, Evelyn's gaze was blurry with tears. Then it cleared as strange, dizzying terror stole through her. It was almost like a bad dream. In a slow daze, she saw Martin walking toward the door. Saw him tuck his boot underneath the doorstop and kick it up with one flick of his ankle. The door moaned and swung slowly, so slowly, and closed with a whisper of a click. Evelyn's breath stopped. Her body froze with fear.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a small, trembling voice.

Martin answered her question with one of his own: "What were you doing in the senior locker area, Evelyn?"

"What?" The word came out dry and brittle, and it crumbled as it left her lips. "Nothing, I was just..."

Martin stepped toward her, his blue eyes glinting ominously in the light.

"You were just...?"

Adrenaline shot through her, sending Evelyn's heart into a mad gallop. She glanced at the door and made herself move. Martin closed the distance. She side-stepped, tried to duck around him, and he caught her brutally by the wrist. A scream fetched in her throat. Their eyes locked fiercely, and for one frightening moment, Evelyn saw the same savage hunger that had consumed Henry Bowers. Her heart stopped. Her mind exploded and went flying, crashing, tumbling down into deep blackness like a stone down a well, falling down to a cold, dark place, where a voice—that voice—was giggling.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Now her fear had collapsed into pure panic. She struggled against him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and tried to wrestle her arm free. Martin overpowered her easily, flung her around, and slammed her down hard against the desk. Evelyn's body hit the wood with a dull thud. Her head jerked forward, snapped back, and spun dizzily. Clockwise. Her vision blurred and became ringed with darkness. She was falling, plunging down to that cold, dark, guilty place.

"What's wrong, Tozier?" Martin asked breathlessly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Please stop!" she said, but her voice had slipped away from her and went up, up, up.

"You wanted attention, right? Wanted people to finally see you as a woman?"

"No! No!"

(YES!)

"Well, I see you, Tozier," Martin said. "Yeah, I see you crystal fucking clear."

Evelyn fell deeper and deeper, screaming without a sound, and slammed against something hard and cold. The bottom. She had finally hit the bottom. Her right cheek was pressed against the desk, and Martin's hand was on her head, holding her firmly in place. He didn't have to hold her down, though. Evelyn couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. She was too far gone, trapped in that cold, dark place, and now the guilt was creeping toward her on all fours, its eyes bright and hungry, desperate to feed. Evelyn lay on her stomach, paralyzed, watching it come closer and closer... closer and closer... until—

The knob turned and the door opened.

Henry Bowers stood on the other side, blinking in dazed bewilderment.

Martin threw him a vicious grin. "You want in on this, Bowers?" he asked while he pushed some of Evelyn's hair away from her face. "You can go first if you want."

Evelyn flinched away from Martin's hand and felt Henry's eyes land on her softly, gently, filling her heart with such sweet relief. For a moment, she thought she was weightless, flying, floating far away from that cold, dark guilty place, but then she saw something that turned her heart into stone, and she plummeted right back to the bottom.

Henry's eyes, those bright, beautiful blue eyes, had suddenly darkened into the most terrifying shade of black. Evelyn didn't even recognize them anymore.

Time crawled forward and stopped. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. Its hands screeched to a halt and stood at attention, waiting for their next command.

It came a second later, in a shocking act of betrayal.

"No," Henry said, "she's not worth it."

The door closed and time resumed with a violent lurch, knocking Evelyn backward, backward, backward. The clock on the wall started tocking and ticking, tocking and ticking: backward, backward, backward. Its hands went spinning, whirling, unwinding: backward, backward, backward. Counterclockwise. Taking them back. Taking them all the way back.

And now that voice was speaking to her again, speaking from that cold, dark place.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Yes, she answered. Yes, I did.

_____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

taglist: @secrethologramflower @rosepresley

[therealnuclearplatypus]

Dreaming.

"Uh, no. No no no no no no no. I refuse. Fuck off."

"Come on, it'll be fun! Just a one-time thing, a lark—"

"I said no."

Leo hated parties. He'd actually quite enjoy them, if it weren't for that idiot Octavian always trying to ruin it. Last time, it was spiking his Sprite with so much vodka Leo couldn't even remember what had happened next. The one before, trying to hook him up with every girl in the vicinity. Now, it was trying to bed him.

"I'll make sure you won't forget—"

"Octavian! No."

Octavian scowled and pushed him. "I don't like that word."

"Well, get used to it. Go wank yourself off in the bathroom if you're so desperate."

Octavian's scowl deepened and he forcefully kissed Leo. Leo kneed him in the crotch and ran away as the other yowled in pain.

He ran straight out of the club and into some guy outside.

"Sorry, sorry—" Leo said, trying to run again.

"Hey, are you okay? I saw that guy force himself on you in there—" The stranger was holding Leo by the shoulders and looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, he did. And he'll do it again. I've gotta run."

"But—"

All this was wasting time. Indeed, Octavian had seen him and was about to catch up.

"Fuck." Leo made to run again, but Octavian caught him by the sleeve.

"Leo!" Octavian cried, but the stranger Leo had rammed into had grabbed Leo's hand and pinned Octavian with an accusatory glare.

"Leo, do you know this guy?" he asked.

Octavian looked confused. Leo understood that the guy was trying to save his ass, and appreciated it. He played along.

"No, I don't." He leaned into the stranger's side and frowned at Octavian. "Let's go."

"Of course." The stranger led him to a motorcycle parked nearby. He gave him his helmet and Leo hopped on behind him. They rode off into the night, leaving an astonished Octavian behind.

The stranger swerved into a quiet road and stopped the bike. He turned to Leo and asked, "You good?"

Leo took the helmet off. "Yeah. Thank you."

Should he get off now? Give him back his helmet and leave?

"No problem," he replied, smiling. He had a very nice smile.

"I, uh. I never caught your name?" Leo tried.

"Oh! Sorry, that was silly of me. I'm Frank."

"Frank." It suited him. "Well, chuffed to meet you, Frank. And thanks, really."

"It really isn't a problem." The guy—Frank—smiled again. Damn, Leo was possessed of the urge to keep making him do that.

"I, uhm—" Leo had no idea what to say next.

"Do you need to get anywhere? Since we're already, you know, on the bike."

Leo considered. "Well ... he lives really close to me. I don't wanna go back home."

"A friend's house maybe? I don't mind."

Leo didn't want to tell Piper he'd willingly gone out with Octavian again. Or any of his friends, really. There was nowhere he could go.

Frank saw his hesitation and shyly said, "Listen, if you, uh—if you don't have anywhere to go, you can crash at my place for the night. If you want to."

Leo wondered if this guy was either a predator, or really just genuinely this nice. Any choice was better than Octavian.

"Really?" Leo asked.

"Yeah! I'd hate to leave you out here alone."

"Then ..." Leo nodded. Frank placed the helmet back onto Leo's head—a gesture which touched him greatly—and revved up the engine again.

Frank's place was intimidatingly nice. Leo looked around, at the paintings, at the guitars, at the pictures. Frank led him to a spare bedroom.

And he slept. Woke up the next morning. Everything was fine.

Except this wasn't the room he'd fallen asleep in. This wasn't Frank's house. It looked familiar, but Leo's brain was too foggy to recall why.

Foggy? Was he drunk?

A body beside him moved. "Morning," said Octavian's sleepy voice.

Dammit.

He'd had the same dream for months now. It was how they'd met: Frank had saved him from Octavian, he'd let him stay at his place, they'd become friends and then later became boyfriends. Everything was right in the world.

But then. Then. Frank was out on that damnable motorbike of his and got run over. The doctors told him that it happened too quick for him to have felt any pain.

How did they know? How did they know Frank died painlessly? What if they were wrong? What if it had hurt a lot? What if—

It was no use now. Ever since Frank had passed, Leo had relapsed into his old self-destructive habits. Hence why he'd just slept with Octavian. Again.

There was no point to anything with Frank gone. Leo was only counting down the days till he joined him.

oop @shittygaypornmagazinedotcom this one's for you tay. angst hours recommenced. also @petulant-poet :))

[por-siempre-aqui]

I knew I was going to have to be the one to actually end the relationship.

To be honest this was the perfect opportunity that he gave me.

I don't regret not telling him. I was afraid to tell him

I did at some point buy into the idea that If it upsets him, I won't do it. He kept using the term, well if you want to hangout with other guys and not tell me. Like it was justified. I already knew what he was gonna say, but I do have to say his maturity surprised me. He is being cordial about this and I'm still here biting my tongue really hard.

I am trying to recall the conversation for therapy next week. But I think what is more important to talk about his me and how I feel now that he swears he will move out.

He even decided to mention that he did tell me he wasn't ready for a relationship and he warned me. All i remembere is feeling like I wanted to laugh at him. I don't feel bad about any of it because R and I did hang out again. And it was awesome and not weird and we got exercise in, but also much needed socializing.

But when I told S that plans changed so it was just me and Rocco hanging out. He obviously got upset, assumed a bunch of horrible things. I wanted to believe that his reaction wouldn't be bad, but it was. Full of 'you're my woman, and why do you need to hangout with other guys while im at work AND if you wanna hangout with other guys, then do that alone".

He already had his mind set about it and so did I. I was ready to throw in the towel. I AM DONE.

I said I agree, we should break up.

And then his tune changed and he said okay now that you explained it, I still don't agree, but for you I will trust the guy you hangout with and it takes a lot for me to offer this. And I still said no. We should just break up. And that's when I had to explain that this only is one thing I'm upset about. I'm also upset that its now June and he was supposed to move out in March. He finally didn't dodge my question about why he hasn't really looked for a place. He said then it would be real. And he didn't want to leave because it felt like I was getting rid of him. I offered a solution in our relationship and he claimed to agree. All he did was lie and buy time. And now he will probably have no where to go because he didn't actually keep looking.

And then he had the audacity to say my situation isn't that bad because I will still have a home and roof over my head. And I said yeah that's why I feel bad and I hate that you placed me in this horrible position. All I really needed from him was to move out and make it .

He also tried to ask if after he is away for a while... If we could get back together later. And I said I can't say yes or no. I cannot promise that and neither can you.

Then he asked if he could hold me.

It's different than last time, i sit here thinking. Damn he is finally now where I needed him to be two years ago. Which means he will be what I need now like years from now. Because my standards are different. And I am not gonna be in a romantic relationship any time soon.

I'd rather have fun and hook up and kiss people. Man I miss kissing and feel fireworks.

I miss having excellent sex, which I really only felt with him in the beginning. And after getting chlamydia from probably him too, I already was turned off and luckily we had to take a sex break and it wasn't difficult because I have more sex with myself than with him. Wows. I'm messed up.

When we were cuddling I was stoned so I kept my eyes closed and imagined platonically cuddling someone else because he gave me such a nice goodbye hug last time. I can't wait to spend more time with my friends.

[ghost-proofbaby]

hi ghost i just got back from my day with my guy! im sorry to hear about eddie-coded guy 😔 hopefully you'll find someone more for you and more eddie-coded.

here is how everything the last few days went

so he visited me at work! He told me afterwards that he didn't tell me when exactly he was coming bc he wanted to surprise me 🥺 and i just followed him around for the 15 minutes he was there full on heart eyes 😂 but he got a coffee and he kept telling me how good it was 😂 and i got a hug before he left and it made working alone at night at a gas station as a 23 year old girl a little better bc i had that to remember if I died 🙃

But today I went to his house so we could go out to eat and all that. He gave me this cat crochet kit he bought for me 🥺 and when we came back I tried to teach him how to crochet and he managed a few chains but I think the hook was too small to properly teach him so I told him that I'd bring a bigger hook next time (he was like are you saying I'm too small and I'm like STOP OMG)

Well we went out to eat and we went to Barnes and Noble and looked at the music and the legos and I kept pointing out all the books I read. He lost me for a few minutes and he found me at the smutty romance section 🤦‍♀️ I pointed out icebreaker by hannah grace and was like I read that and he was like ooo there's hockey in it and I'm like Yes. Hockey. Just hockey in that book. 👀

On the drive back to his house we kept poking each other and he's like I think you're hitting on me and I said maybe and we kept poking each other and I ended up stealing his hat from him and wearing it for the ride back until he stole it back from me and then I stole it again 🤷🏻‍♀️

OH ALSO I made him and his family pumpkin chocolate chip cookies since they're always giving me stuff and I told him he wasn't allowed to die when he ate them bc he has diabetes. His mom liked the cookies. He said he was saving his for his lunch at work tomorrow so I'm expecting a review lol

We built Legos again big surprise and I kept telling him I was going to take one of his cats home with me and he said I wasn't allowed and I said well what if I trade one of my cats for her and he asked if he could have my cat (who is currently sleeping on my chest bc 7 hours without me is just too much for her 😂) and I was like no can't have that one if you take her I'm coming with her it's a package deal and he was like I'm okay with that 🥺 and he said that he and his cat are a package deal and I was being distracted by pictures of my cats on my phone lol so I didn't respond right away and he was like wow no response to that okay 😂

And he invited me to this Halloween party he's going to on Saturday but I work until 7 and I'm heavily debating calling off I mean no I'm not 👀 like do i have a costume? No. Can I get one that quickly? Possibly. Is there a high possibility I may end up kissing him for the first time while he is wearing a costume of kevin the bird from the movie up? Yeah probably. Am I okay with that? Yeah cause it's my fault he even got the costume in the first place 😂

And not to sound like a mega virgin again but when I left his house tonight he hugged me and he rubbed my back and the sweater I was wearing has this twist in the back so it's mostly just my bare back and OOF he touched my bare back and OOF 🫠

And also when I told him that I'd be working again alone tomorrow 🙃 he said he might try to visit me after he gets off work and I was like listen even just the prospect of you possibly coming to visit makes my day suck less 🤷🏻‍♀️

ALSO WHY HASNT HE KISSED ME YET GHOST! I KEEP THINKING HE WANTS TO! BUT I DON'T REALLY WANNA GO FOR IT CAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW! NEVER KISSED ANYONE BEFORE! DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK I'M DOING!

I was really gonna try to hold his hand in the car but I chickened out 🙃 and then I was gonna try to kiss his cheek when I was leaving but I forgot about the plan when he hugged me 🙃 so that's my life. Gonna text him and ask when the party is Saturday if I can still work and go to it. Or I might just *cough* come down with something *cough*

Love, 🎸 anon ❤️

OH I MISSED THIS ONE BEFORE I ANSWERED THE OTHER ONE FUCK i still stand by y’all being way too damn cute 😭

as for why he hasn’t kissed you yet — i want to let you in on a major secret. he is probably just as nervous if not MORE SO. whenever guys struggle to make a move, they’re usually behind the scenes freaking out and over thinking it all just as you might be! especially when everything is as reciprocated as it has been between you two. i have no doubt based on the message i accidentally answered first tho that now that y’all have joked about it, it’ll happen!! i pinky swear!! 🖤

as for eddie-coded guy… life goes on 😅 i’m back on dating apps tho!! if anything this has taught me to get back into the dating world haha. i’ll find someone eventually, and until then, i’ll just keep writing in an attempt to manifest 😪