#birthday being kind of a guilty pleasure…..

[moondogmatinees]

🎵❤️

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[paarksunghoon]

heeseung with a corruption kink and maybe size kink too 🤐 please this man makes me SO horny

you know what, for as much as I love writing y/n to be an absolute bitch who isn’t innocent, this trope is kinddddd of my guilty pleasure

also I was gonna add a short something about a girl who wants to fuck heeseung walking in on them but didn’t because it didn’t flow hahahah maybe next time

read part 2 here

***

You don’t see a clock in Heeseung’s bedroom but it probably wouldn’t matter any way. Why would you need to know the time when he’s lying on top of you and kissing your neck like this?

Heeseung’s breath is hot and jagged as he moves his lips across your skin, occasionally nipping at the open area to hear you moan in his ear. You sound out of practice, like this is something you don’t do very often, and that realization makes Heeseung feel hot all over.

“You smell good,” he mumbles against you. “What perfume are you wearing?”

“Tom Ford,” comes your meek reply. “Got it for my birthday.”

Heeseung pushes himself to the other side of your face and presses his mouth along your jawline. “Wear it more often.” He chuckles when he feels you nodding against him and licks the skin right underneath your ear before kissing it.

Your body delightfully reacts to this sudden pressure and your legs widen even further. Heeseung takes one of your legs and wraps it around his body while the other caresses the side of your other. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about the boy you just met an hour ago, it’s that he knows how to kiss. The sensation of his fingertips in combination with his mouth makes your toes curl.

“Are you shy?” Heeseung asks when your hands remain on his bed. He pulls away to look down at you biting your lip.

“Out of practice.” Though, you’re sure Heeseung can’t tell the difference. You are a little shy, though, but you don’t want to tell him that.

He smiles down at you and bites his lip. It’s unfair how sexy he looks. “That’s okay. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?” Heeseung brings your hands to his arms and encourages you to touch him too. “You can touch me.”

When he sees you nod, he pushes himself up and trails his fingers until they’re pushing your dress up your body. He ghosts just over your pussy and you’re starting to love this kind of attention. “Can I touch you here?”

Heeseung is pleased when you nod. He brings two fingers to rub over you in slow circles and sees the way your brows furrow when he touches you like this. He’s being a bit slow and deliberate. Truthfully, he’d typically choose to sleep with someone who has more experience—he really loves it when a he can force his dick down somebody’s throat—but you were so nice and polite when his roommate introduced you to the small group of friends gathered by the pool table in the foyer of this gigantic house party.

There’s muffled sound from beyond his bedroom door but that does nothing to drown out the sound of your moans when he rubs on your clit.

Heeseung loves girls who get wet really fast. You’re no exception.

“You got wet from a little bit of kissing?” The man above you smiles down like he’s teasing you and when you look up at him all bashful, he can’t help but laugh and kiss your cheek. “That’s okay. I think that’s really hot.”

He taps your covered folds and hears the sound of wetness splashing against his fingers and grunts. You squeeze his biceps and he loves how you’re starting to get bolder with him too, sliding your leg against him as you relax against his touch.

Heeseung resumes kissing your neck and travels down your body. His movements are slow and deliberate when he pulls the top of your dress down until your tits are spilling out of it. He moves to your nipple and sucks on it as your arms find their way to his head. He hums against your chest and toys with the other one, gently pinching and tugging at your hardened nub and moving his mouth over to give it the same treatment.

Eventually, he moves down your body until he’s eye level with your drenched pussy. Heeseung spreads your legs until both feet are planted on his mattress and holds the back of your thighs to prevent you from squirming more than you already are. The way he’s looking at you makes your face feel hot.

“Can I lick you here too?” When you nod, he shakes his head. “Words, baby. Can I? Please?”

How could you ever say no?

“Yes.”

Heeseung smiles at that. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and he uses the tip to trace up your covered slit. He catches your back when you start to arch and coaxes you back down with a gentle touch.

When your hand finds his, Heeseung chuckles against your pussy. His warm breath feels sensational.

“Wanna hold my hand?” You don’t answer but tangle your fingers in his. He’s not used to sex being like this and girls who’ve been in your position usually urge him to go faster and get them off. But Heeseung finds that doesn’t really mind this. “Hold my hand, baby. Give it a squeeze if you need to.”

Heeseung resumes licking you and praises the sheer fabric you decided to wear today. “Your panties are so cute.” He licks you up and loves the sensation of it against his tongue paired with the way you taste. He rolls his eyes back and bucks his hips against the side of the bed, moaning into your pussy at the fraction of pressure. “I bet your pussy’s cuter.”

He pushes your underwear aside and marvels at the way you’re convulsing around nothing. You don’t seem to mind his ministrations either because you don’t protest. In fact, you push your hips towards him and Heeseung takes the hint.

He latches his mouth onto you and kisses your pussy like he’s trying to commit your body to his memory. His tongue glides over your folds and inside of your hole too, methodically bringing you pleasure from his mouth alone.

You think he must really love doing this because you look down and see his eyes are closed. What’s even hotter to you is that one of his hands left your thighs so that he can jerk himself off at the same time. You don’t see it but you see the way his shoulder moves and it makes you moan.

“Yeah,” he mutters against you. “Moan for me.”

You do, so much so that Heeseung keeps licking and sucking until you’re coming on his mouth. He laps it all up until he’s pushing his body upright and taking off his boxers just below his balls to free himself.

He’s so big. It makes your mouth water.

“You have the tiniest pussy I’ve ever seen,” Heeseung says with wide eyes. He strokes his cock a few times with the precum that’s oozing out of him. Heeseung taps your slit with his tip and the warm feeling makes your body arch.

“You ready for some cock, baby?” Truthfully, you aren’t. Not with his size. Him being as big as he is wasn’t something you anticipated. You tell him that much and expect him to kick you out of his room but all he does is pull your soiled panties over your pussy and lets his gigantic dick rest between your slit. He hears you meekly asking to keep grinding and nods, pushing his body down against yours. “We can keep doing like this. I love grinding.”

He doesn’t typically, not that anyone’s given him the chance to really try it out. But his cock is so hard that he thinks this might be the best thing after hard sex. Picturing the two of you having a a wet, rough fuck makes him grind faster.

Heeseung’s got your legs around him and you hold onto his body like a boa constrictor but he loves this type of neediness. He doesn’t get it from other girls and it makes him feel like pushing his cock into your pussy anyway. But he doesn’t. Although he wonders if you’ll ever work your way up to letting him do it.

“This feels so good,” Heeseung moans truthfully. He loves the way your eyes shut and how your mouth parts just wide enough for him to know you love it too. “I wanna fuck you for real one day.”

“I want that too.”

“Is that right?” Heeseung kisses your lips. “We’ll have to work our way to it, won’t we?”

He fucks his cock against your underwear until you cum against him with a choked moan right into his ear. That alone makes his hips stutter. He pulls himself upright and watches as his cum shoots right out of him and onto the fabric, the white ribbons gushing out of him like he’s never seen before.

Heeseung pushes his hips to gather his own release to move it around your mound. It’s so hot the way you’re looking at him. He almost thinks you’d beg him to put it in.

But you don’t. Not yet, anyway. He cleans you up and doesn’t let you get up until he’s sure you’re all good to go.

You think he might kick you out since you know he’s not the kind of guy to let a girl stick around so you start fixing your dress. When you stand up and reach for the door, he pulls you back by the hand and pushes your body against the wall.

“Where you goin’, baby?” That pet name he’s been calling you all night drives you crazy.

“Oh, I, um…didn’t think you wanted me to stay any longer.” He laughs and shakes his head, his lips kissing the side of your neck.

“Wanna get breakfast with you tomorrow. Is that okay?”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[iloveboysinred]

P n v, fem reader, geto x reader, reader is just horny asf (as she should) i wrote more but tumblr ate it and i just wanna get this out there cause its already been collecting dust in my drafts so enjoy this tidbit. Minimal editing i wrote this when i was fried HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BABY SUGURU

Inspired by this yummy art and real life thought processes

Nothing could accurately describe the heat that coursed through your body whenever you saw your boyfriend in baggy clothes.

You swore he did it on purpose, walking around your house with those loose sweat pants hanging off his hips, his baggy t-shirt hiding something you’re just about ready to go looking for.

This morning felt especially suffocating. You watched from the couch while he walked around the kitchen, completely shirtless as he prepared the two of you a simple breakfast; eggs, rice, coffee…or was it tea? You didn’t know and you hardly cared, pursing your lips every time he pulled the waistband of his grey sweats back into place when they sagged a little too low. The sneak peaks of his hard abdomen, decorated with the dark dusting of a happy trail felt like an aphrodisiac.

You try to quell the filthy thoughts, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, smoothly opening some game on your phone before you start paying too much attention to the way his muscles moved under his skin.

But of course you stare some more because God, you could tell he wasn’t wearing boxers. Your eyes followed the imprint of his dick, thick and on soft and lightly pressing against the seam of his pants. You cursed him inside your mind. Why was he so oblivious to just how good he looked? It was too early to be thinking about throwing him down on the couch and-

“Food’s ready. Come eat” his soothing voice shattered your lustful thoughts, your eyes blinking away to see a small spread of carefully prepared food on the kitchen island. Two mugs sat on the counter, a tea for you and a coffee for him steaming and ready for you to drink. Your heart clenched as you sat down. Suguru was so sweet to you—he made you breakfast and your favorite kind of tea, taking care of you and being so gentle with you yet all you could think about was his strong hands grasping your neck, manhandling you around like you were some rag doll. You felt a little guilty for a second, but the way your clit throbbed made you forget all about it, your exterior tense as you padded over, sitting in the chair next to him.

You couldn’t help but take long glances at him even now. He was so close, you swear you can feel the heat of his pulse right next to you. You gave his print the same attention, your fingers twitching at your sides while he served you some rice and a few pieces of the rolled omelette he made, setting your fork inside your bowl.

“Do you really have to stare so hard? You’re so shameless.” You coughed, almost choking on the bite of rice you just ate. “Augh, what?” sputtering, your eyes widened in alarm when Suguru kept his air of nonchalance, handing you the steamy cup of tea to wash the rice down.

“Did you think I couldn’t tell?” He paused, bringing another piece of the omelette to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “and here I thought a sweet girl like you knows how to use her words and tell me what she wants. I guess i haven’t been thorough enough.” You felt your face warm, not even out of embarrassment for being caught but because you know just how thorough Suguru is.

Sensual images of your past rendezvous blared in your mind, pictures of your Suguru, sweat slicked and needy above you, his powerful body moved with yours, his lips moving from your neck to your mouth, his desire evident in the dark red and purple marks decorating your thighs and chest, the taste and smell of your arousal still staining his lips and chin.

He filled you out, his thick manhood dragging against your slippery walls with every thrust. Hot, throbbing pleasure coursed through your nervous system, your back arching in ecstasy when he called out for you, his large hands grasping yours above your head. Suguru’s hair curtained around you when he closed the distance between you, panting and blindly searching for your lips in the dark. You burned the sight into the forefront of your mind, despite how often you were able to witness your boyfriend unravel himself above you after that.

“You should at least finish your food if you’re just gonna ogle at me all day.” You scoffed, placing the tea cup back on the table harder than you intended. Invading his space, you dragged a hand down his neck, trailing it down to his chest and up again, not even playing it coy when you dragged your nails over his nipples, enjoying how he tensed under your touch, stubbornly keeping his calm exterior despite the flickering excitement in his eyes.

“You wanted me to use my words, right?” You purred, raking your nails past his chest and down his abdomen, tracing every defined muscle in admiration, not missing the way his breath hitched. Suguru pursed his lips, his cocky attitude falling flat while he watched you trail lower towards his waist, thumbing the waistband of his sweats.

Creeping closer, you pressed a kiss behind his ear, making sure he could hear you loud and clear “I wanna fuck. Right now. and we’re gonna keep going until i’m satisfied. Does that work for you?” He smirked, regarding you with a sultry look and bringing you in by the hips. “What a filthy mouth.”

[the-summ0ning]

𓉸ྀི Linger 𓉸ྀི PART ONE

Roomie!Nick Folio x Fem!introvert!Bookworm!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Awkwardly avoiding your hot roommate after him walking in on you listening to your guilty pleasure was easy enough, you thought, until it wasn't. Not when you had all the same friends, and you were all in a cabin in the woods for Noah's birthday, and Nick shows up looking like said guilty pleasure.

!!!THIS PIECE IS PURE FICTION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE, NOT YOUR THING TURN AWAY. BUT AGAIN IT'S JUST FICTION AND NOT HOW THESE PPL ARE IRL!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS: swearing, recreational drug and alcohol use, awkward romcom moments, fluff, yearning.

A/n: hahah spooky season is upon us and I wrote this after I had insomnia for over 24 hours after the wildest week of having the flu a few weeks ago, and have been sitting on it debating if I wanted to post this. This could be a totally considered self-indulgent, maybe cringe, but oh well it's my digital footprint & I have to live with. But welcome to my first fic on this blog, and my first piece posted at least for the BO guys in general, had to show the cinnamon roll Folio love first. thank yewwww and enjoy

⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。 °⛧⛧°。°⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。

The universe had a painfully ironic sense of humor. Noah Sebastian and his friends, with their twisted embrace of clichés, unknowingly played right into its hands.

After years of running in the same circles, Noah had grown to resent sharing his birthday with Halloween—except for the rare occasions when he leaned into the theme completely. This year was one of those times. A slasher-themed party in a huge cabin in the woods for the weekend. Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d promised months ago to make all the baked goods—long before you knew the party theme—and that his closest friend and bandmate happened to be your roommate, you would’ve bailed. But you were a good friend, one who loved your friends and kept your word. Even if it meant enduring the mortification of being around Folio, said roommate, fighting the urge to disappear into the woods every time he glanced or came in your direction.

Because Folio knew your dirty little secret.

One you hadn’t even shared with your closest girlfriends. A secret you’d intended to bury in the deepest corners of your feral little brain—until Folio, of all people, unearthed it. He’d come home early from a fishing trip because of a storm and found you in your natural state of debauchery: high, sprawled on the couch, blasting a dark romance smut audiobook through the living room’s soundbar to a concerning decibel. To make matters worse, it was during the most graphic part, and not just any audiobook—this one had sound effects. And masks. And filthy, filthy things.

You’d nearly combusted when you saw him standing in the doorway for who knows how long, looking bemused, at you giggling and quietly squealling into a throw pillow. You scrambled to pause the audio, but of course, the universe wasn’t on your side, and your phone took its sweet time. Long enough for him to hear everything. 

It’s not like you were about to do anything. You weren’t physically aroused, just mortified that he now knew what you listened to when he wasn’t around. Mortified as if his living room had been christened by your smut. Mortified he probably assumed you touched yourself to it when he wasn’t there—or worse, that it was some deep, dark fantasy of yours. No that totally wasn’t your guilty conscience projecting or anything.

You’d only lived with Nick for four months. Four months of being around him more than you ever had since meeting him through mutual friends years ago. Before this, you could count on both hands the number of times you’d been alone together. Not that there wasn’t any issues with him, you just considered the two of you as polar opposites to think he’d actually want to be around you or you’d have enough in common to pass the basis of ‘acquaintance’ or ‘mutual friend’.

He was funny, the kind of guy who made your cheeks hurt from laughing at his corny jokes. He was charming, with that Southern hospitality that always seemed to melt your insides, and his country twang made you melt just that much more. You hated how easily he could make your social anxiety melt away at parties, offering you a hit of his joint or a cigarette and small conversation when he noticed you hadn’t your usual friends you clung to. Confident, magnetic, always ready to be rowdy, a through and through extrovert, everything you were not.

You were an extroverted introvert–at best. A pessimistic optimist. An awkward rain shower on a sunny day. The house cat who only craved attention when it suited you, having zoomies when no one was watching.

That’s exactly what the embarrassing night felt like—your version of a cat caught in a burst of energy when it thought no one was looking. Except Folio was looking. And all he did was give you that dopey smile, the one with the gleam in his dark chocolate eyes, and made some smart-ass remark before disappearing into his room.

“So, this is what you do when I’m not around. Cute.”

As if he were the amused owner, catching his pet in the act.

He never brought it up again, but you both knew. And it gnawed at you. Maybe you were again projecting and he hadn’t thought much of it, but still!

And now, of all the costumes in the world, famous slashers, any other character from a horror movie, or crashed out and went with a basic t-shirt in the same vein of the theme of the party. No. He had chosen to wear a Ghostface mask. You, meanwhile, were dressed as a cheesy, slutty Casey Becker from Scream. It wasn’t planned. You’d done your best to avoid him the last two weeks, conveniently ever since the theme had been known to you. Quick hellos and goodbyes, or hasty exchanges with those days.

But tonight, at the party, there was no escaping him. Between leaving early before he even woke, helping with decorations, and playing the mom friend throughout the night for your own friends, you made yourself scarce. Dodging him became an art form. Until, of course, he cornered you.

You were about to refill Matt’s drink when Nick approached, his Ghostface mask pulled up. He tossed Matt’s empty cup, and handed you a cup of red jungle juice (with gummies shaped like body parts floating the mix of fruit of course), his hand casually settling on the small of your back, guiding you wordlessly toward the quieter part of the yard by the small shed by the brush of woods. The touch sent an unexpected chill through you, even though you tried to ignore it. You turned to protest, but he tapped his ear, signaling the blunt tucked behind it.

You rolled your eyes, laughing under your breath, and let him lead you to the shed. As much as you weren’t ready to talk to him, you hadn’t taken a break all night, and the excuse to get away from the crowd and babysit your friends was tempting. Your social battery ticking away faster than anticipated.

“Didn’t realize you were such a great party planner,” he said, leaning against the shed as he lit the blunt, his eyes catching under the faint glow of the solar lights.

You shrugged, struggling to keep your voice casual as your heart raced and cheeks warmed. His presence was overwhelming, making you hyper-aware of everything—the slight brush of his fingers when he passed you the blunt, the way his lips curled when he smiled. Even the music felt like it was conspiring against you, with Deftones' haunting melodies filling the background, stirring things inside you that you wished would stay buried.

“It was a group effort,” you mumbled, staring at your shoes to avoid his gaze. The warmth of his hand on your back lingered, leaving you unsettled in ways you weren’t prepared for. But when you glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on you, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

“Nah, I didn’t do anything. I’m just here to boost morale and be the life of the party,” he chuckled, though the sound felt a little forced. As if he was trying just as hard as you to keep things light, keep things normal. 

He passed the blunt back, and you took a hit, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about that night too. It had been weeks, but it still felt raw in the fiber of your being, especially now with the tension hanging between you.

“And I know half of these ideas were your asshole suggestions, after searching kid halloween party on Pinterest.” He added, smirking. “But they love it. Noah loves it.”

You smiled despite yourself, taking another hit quickly to hide it, the warmth of his compliment stirring something soft in your chest. “Glad to hear it. Sometimes I worry my trolling gets taken a little too seriously.”

“They thrive off it,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. He gestured for you to keep the blunt, taking a swig of his drink instead. “All for you, bub. Roomie blunt.”

The nickname hit you harder than you wanted to admit, a surge of affection mixing with the ever-present tension. His voice, low and soft, carried a weight that made it feel more intimate than it should have. You swallowed, trying to push the feeling down. Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“Matching costumes and now roomie blunts?” You teased, though your voice sounded breathier than you intended. “Are we hitting new roommate milestones?”

He laughed, but it was quieter this time, almost shy. “Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” He said almost apologetically, there was still an edge of smugness maybe arrogance. “I tried to wear a t-shirt with just Michael and Freddy on it, but Jolly told me to ‘piss off and I wasn’t wearing that to our best friend’s birthday party.’ Drove me to a Spirit before we picked Noah up, it was like the only thing left close to the theme.” He explained. “I didn’t even have a plain black shirt. Had to flip this inside out.”

“Oh Jolly said ‘fuck you thought’ for real.” You giggled, the effect of the cannabis hitting you as you rubbed the rough inseam on his shoulder that you failed to notice when he walked in tonight. It was comical and relieving to know this wasn't a jab at you now, and just a half-ass last minute idea--typical Folio fashion.

“Wait for it, wait for it,” he pointed a finger up. Balancing the cup rim between his teeth, his drink splashing on himself as he pulled his t-shirt up exposing his torso as he clumsily tugged his shirt toward you to see a print of Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger holding hands in a meadow.

Through puffs of smoke, you full out cackled, now holding his shoulder for support. “What? Did you think you were too tough to dress up for Nowah’s birthday party?” Mustering your best baby voice in between your wheezing, the tension breaking for a moment. But even as you laughed, your eyes lingered on him a second too long. On the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, the way his dark ochre eyes seemed to trace your every movement, as if he were studying you, waiting for something. But then he pulled the mask down, breaking the easiness of the moment.

He smoothed his shirt down, mocking your laugh. “The fuck am I gonna do with this after?” 

Well…

Even with his shirt inside out, with alcohol spills staining it, and ash from your blunt speckling his clothes, the look did things to you--he looked good. The mask, the way he carried himself, all of it stirred something deeper. Your mind flashed back to that audiobook, to the night he caught you—and suddenly, the faceless man from the story wasn’t faceless anymore. It was Nick. It had always been Nick, lurking in the corners of your thoughts, even when you tried to deny it for several months before. You had buried the attraction you felt towards him well enough, denying that maybe your harmless crush was something more. Letting the term roommates be your boundary for him, not wanting to make an arrangement of living with an attractive acquaintance that you had festering feelings for even more awkward.

Despite your best efforts, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. And even though your mind screamed at you to say something, to make a joke, you were too caught up in the moment—the way his presence pressed into yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like static.

You handed the blunt back, your fingers brushing a second too long with his, the touch jolting something within you. “I’m sure you can find other uses for it, Bub,” you said, but the words came out softer than you intended, almost like a promise.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand lingered near yours, his dark eyes searching your face, as if he was waiting for something—waiting for you to break the silence. The air between you felt heavy, charged, like the moment could tip in any direction. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breath coming a little too fast. You were standing so close now, the night’s sounds fading into the background. 

Your lips parted, wanting to say something, anything—but the words caught in your throat. Maybe this was your chance. Maybe you could make sure things weren’t as weird as you imagined it to be. Or maybe you could take that small step forward, close the gap between you, and see where it led.

But instead, you took a step back. 

“Thanks for the morale boost! Gonna go beg Ruffilo to play something less whiny and horny now!”

The moment stretched, taut and unspoken, as you turned away, nerves rattling inside you. You felt him watching you as you sauntered off, the weight of his gaze burning into your back, the unspoken tension still thick in the air.

Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!

But as you walked away, your heart still pounding, you knew the moment between you wasn’t over. Not really. It lingered, hanging in the air like a storm cloud waiting to break. And you couldn’t help but wonder if next time, you’d have the courage to step into it.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Nick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he watched your denim skirt ride up slightly with each step you took away. He swallowed hard, the familiar pang of frustration settling in his chest. Admiring you from afar had become second nature to him, an unspoken routine he’d never quite managed to shake.

You perplexed him, right down to his core.

Every time he felt he was getting closer to understanding you, to unraveling the mystery of what made you so magnetic—you were gone. Slipping through his fingers just as quickly as you’d come into focus.

It had been that way since Matt and your friend first introduced you all those years ago. At first, he found your quietness cute—a stark contrast to the loud energy of your other friends. But as you started coming around more, he saw there was so much more beneath the surface. The dry wit, the easy charm you showed only to those closest to you, the way you seemed to light up in the right company. And then there was the obvious—he had been attracted to you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

But the more you intrigued him, the further away you seemed to drift, casting him aside without even realizing it. It gnawed at him, deeper than he liked to admit. Nick Folio wasn’t used to this—he could get anyone to open up, to be themselves around him with little effort. But you? You were a challenge he couldn’t crack, and it was driving him crazy.

It baffled him how Matt had convinced you to be roommates in the first place. Living together hadn’t helped his case at all—if anything, it made things worse. Since the moment he’d walked in on you listening to your smut audiobook, he could feel the shift, how you’d started shutting him out. He wasn’t oblivious to the way you avoided him now, keeping your distance, as though that moment had broken some invisible line between you.

But it hadn’t, not for him. If anything, he loved that glimpse of who you were outside the parties and hangouts. Seeing you comfortable, in your own space, high out of your mind, letting your guard down enough to geek out over something you clearly enjoyed.

Did you think it made him see you differently? Did you think that knowing your private little quirks would change how he felt?

If anything, it made perfect sense. A girl like you, attractive, smart, with a mind that clearly wandered far beyond the surface—you were bound to have something like that. Hell, now he understood why your nose was always buried in your Kindle. He’d probably be the same way if he had something that compelling.

He had hoped the blunt he’d offered earlier would serve as an olive branch, something to ease the tension between you. But now, watching you skitter away, retreating from him again, he wasn’t so sure.

“There’s the kingpin,” Noah grinned lazily, coming up beside him clapping him on the shoulder as Matt trailed behind.

Nick tried to muster a smile, but it was clear something was weighing on him, his usual carefree demeanor dulled by the conflict that tugged at him deep inside.

“What’s wrong Folio?” Matt was the first to ask.

“Nothing, just clearing my mind a bit.” He lied.

“Yeah, okay.” Noah snorted, trying to tug the mask on top of his head down. He was clearly tipsy, enjoying himself. “If you don’t want to talk about it, whatever—but I know what will really help clear your mind.” The lazy grin turned sinister.

The drummer merely raised his eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“Manhunt—slasher style.”

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

Would it really be a slasher-themed birthday party if Noah hadn’t forced the remaining guests into a game of manhunt, despite how dark it was and how most people were borderline drunk? No, only Noah would think this was still a good idea. You didn’t mind, though. It distracted you from your exchange with Nick—finding hiding spots, giggling quietly, getting chased, and chasing your friends around. It felt cathartic, especially in your tipsy, cross-faded state.

Noah was too far gone to establish real ground rules anyway. The only rule was that nobody hid past the brush of the woods, and he was always the seeker. Brush, cabin, shed, backyard—fair game for your large group of friends. It was the third and final round now, and most of you were out of breath, legs aching, too close to rolling an ankle in the dark. The adrenaline was wearing thin, and the nostalgia for childhood games had run its course. You were all gonna feel the aftermath of this in the morning.

“Once you're found, head to the fire pit, pop a squat, and call it quits for the LOVE of god,” Matt groaned, hands on his hips, out of breath.

With all the cabin’s lights off, the vast space was hard to navigate. Maybe calling it a cabin was underselling it. This was a huge luxury lodge, a weekend splurge to comfortably fit the group with several bedrooms and rooms to hide in. You’d found a bedroom on the second floor at the end of the hall, away from everyone else, deciding to hide alone instead of pairing up like some of the others. You didn’t want to change your spot like you had the other two rounds you played outside. This was it, and you’d let whoever come to you to find you.

You weren’t sure who’d claimed the room earlier in the night when everyone arrived, but it didn’t matter now. The large bed in the center had ample space underneath for you to squeeze under. The bed skirt fell perfectly, hiding you completely as you curled up, knees pressed against your chest, mouth against the sleeve of your knitted sweater to stifle any sound.

Your heart pounded as you heard the seekers stomping clumsily through the halls, doors creaking open, followed by screeches of defeat from your friends as they were found. Finally, Noah and Davis's triumphant laughter echoed through the house, growing distant as they led the captured outside.

For a moment, you thought you were safe. You let out the breath you'd been holding, relaxing slightly. The steady thrum of your heartbeat began to slow, and you debated slipping out the back door to claim victory, imagining the disappointed faces of Noah, Davis, and the rest when you emerged triumphant telling them to suck it.

But then you heard it—a single set of footsteps at the end of the hall. You froze. Your pulse roared in your ears as a familiar laugh echoed down the corridor.

“You guys suck at this game!” Nick’s voice rang out, smug and teasing. Faint bickering followed from outside, Noah and Davis shouting back that they were done, ready to drink by the fire.

Nick scoffed. “Fuckin’ amateurs didn’t even check my room. There’s still people hiding!”

You tensed, silently praying, Please, don’t be in his room. Please, don’t let this be his room.

But your luck had run out. You heard the door handle turn with an agonizing slowness, the door creaking open.

“Bryan, I swear, if you’re making out with your girlfriend in my room instead of hiding—” Nick’s voice trailed off as he stepped inside. You could hear his confusion as he scanned the seemingly empty room. It was his room, of course. The one place you’d somehow ended up hiding.

You bit your lip, heart pounding in your chest as he walked around. His footsteps were soft, deliberate. The room was dark, but you could see the faint glow of his phone’s flashlight as he swept it around, peeking under the desk, inside drawers—absurd places no one could possibly fit.

You started to hope he might give up. His footsteps retreated toward the door, and you exhaled softly, relaxing ever so slightly, your body tense from being curled up so tightly.

But then you heard the closet door swing open with a creak. “Got you!” he shouted abruptly, his voice playful. You jumped, your head hitting the wall behind you with a soft thud. You bit down harder on your sleeve to stifle any sound, praying he hadn’t noticed.

The door closed again, and there was a long silence. Then his voice dropped lower, a teasing edge creeping into it.

“I knew there was a little mouse in here.”

Your eyes flew open in shock, blood rushing to your face. No way. Was it just coincidence? Or had he somehow found out—about the pet names in your books, about your... tastes? Did he find your Goodreads somehow?! You screwed your eyes shut tighter, wishing you could disappear.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabbed your ankle and yanked you out from under the bed. You shrieked as you tumbled out, blinking into the blinding light of Nick’s phone. He was doubled over, laughing, thankfully with no Ghostface mask on.

“Where the hell did you get that from?!” you demanded, fed up, voice hushed but furious.

He was still chuckling, genuinely confused. “Get what from?”

“‘Little mouse?’” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his bare chest since he discarded his shirt after the first round. “What the hell is that?”

He raised his hands in surrender, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I don’t know! It just seemed fitting.”

“You didn’t snoop through my bookshelf?” you accused, heart racing for entirely different reasons now.

His brow furrowed. “Why would I go through your bookshelf? Where’s this coming from?”

“You know where!”

“I don’t, though!” His voice softened, growing more serious. “You really think I would go through your stuff?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I don’t know... you caught me listening to my smut—”

Nick had the audacity to huff a laugh, and it sent your blood boiling all over again.

“It’s not funny, Nick!” You glared at him, horrified by how quickly this night was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go tonight.

“It’s not,” he agreed, but his grin remained. “But it kind of is. Because that just confirmed everything I thought.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “What did you think?”

“That you got weird about me seeing you... be yourself.”

You scoffed. “I did not.” You did.

He said your name quietly, and it made you look at him, caught by the softness in his voice. “I don’t care that you were geeking out over some dirty audiobook. I thought it was cute.”

“I was not.” Your face burned. “And it’s not cute.”

“What would you call it then? Fangirling?”

You grimaced, crossing your arms tighter. “No.”

Nick exhaled, leaning against the desk. “Look, I’m not trying to make this a thing. Relax, okay?”

But relaxing was impossible with him standing there, shirtless, casual like he hadn’t just crawled into your head. He was so nonchalant, while you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something far more dangerous.

Finally, he turned on the lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the room. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he gestured to the bed. “Can we sit? I’m not trying to argue, and my legs are tired.”

You stared at him, defiant for a moment longer, before finally sitting on the edge of the bed. He rolled the desk chair up to you, knees nearly brushing, close enough that the warmth of his skin made the air between you thrum.

“You’re a brat, you know that?” he teased, his voice low.

“I’m not a brat,” you muttered, looking down at your lap, “I’m just... embarrassed.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy, until Nick broke it with a sigh. “I said the wrong thing. But I called it cute because... let’s face it, I know you, but I don’t *know* you.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, his face softer now. The tension in his shoulders had eased, and his eyes held something you couldn’t quite name.

“I could say the same,” you admitted quietly.

“Yeah, but I’m a simple guy.” Chortling to himself. “Half my body shows almost all my special interests.” He gestured to his tattoos, the ones you’d seen countless times but never really looked at until now, trying to avoid finding yet another reason to be drawn to him. “You? You’re a mystery to me. I’ve known you for years, and lived with you for months, but I’ve never seen you just... let your guard down. Sure, in rare passing moments that I wished I could see more of, because I love seeing you light up when you talk.”

Your heart twisted at his words, warmth creeping up your chest, but before you could respond, he added, teasing, “Now I know you’re the quiet girl who secretly geeks out over porn—”

“Nick!” You groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands, the heat on your cheeks unbearable.

Nick laughed softly, tugging your hands away from your face, his grip warm and grounding as his thumbs traced gentle patterns over your knuckles. "Relax, relax, it's our secret," he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender.

Your heart raced, pulse quickening as the air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His laughter faded into a quiet intensity, and for a moment, the space between you felt charged, like you were both standing at the edge of something neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

"I like it... that we have a secret just between us," he confessed, his voice quiet and uncertain, as if he wasn't sure how you'd react.

His words hung in the air, and you froze for a beat, the weight of them sinking in and nearly taking your breath away. When you looked up at him, his brown eyes-usually playful-were filled with something deeper.

There was a warmth there, an affection that made your stomach flip as you watched him nervously lick his lips.

Your face felt hot, and you weren't used to being in such an intimate moment with him, your hands still held in his. But despite the closeness, you weren't uncomfortable. If anything, you realized how close the two of you actually were when his eyes dropped to your lips, and your pulse fluttered even faster.

When he started to lean in, your body moved instinctively, meeting him halfway. His lips brushed against yours-soft, tentative, and a little chapped from the night's activities, but sweeter than you could have imagined. The faint taste of jungle juice lingered on both your mouths, and his hands stayed gently on yours, as if he was afraid to push further.

Hesitant, like he thought you'd pull away any second.

But you didn't want to run this time.

The kiss, as surprising as it was, had a way of grounding you-settling the storm of thoughts and emotions swirling in your mind.

You found yourself pulling your hands free from his and sliding one up to the nape of his neck, your fingers grazing the buzzed part of his hair, while the other rested on his shoulder, gently tugging him closer. Your touch seemed to ease his hesitation, and he responded with a firmer grip on your waist, his hands warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss.

The tension of the past weeks, all the uncertainty and confusion, melted away in his touch. His lips fit perfectly against yours, and as he grew more confident, the kiss became less restrained, his hand gripping your waist tighter as he gently guided you back onto the mattress. You both smiled into the kiss, the weight of his body pressing down on you, though he propped an arm by your head to keep from crushing you entirely.

In that moment, with the world outside fading away, you were in a kind of bliss you hadn't felt in so long. The feel of his lips, his warmth, the way his tongue softly brushed against yours-it was all-consuming, and you could have stayed there all night, wrapped up in him.

"Did Y/N kill you, Nick?!" Noah's drunken laughter rang through the wooden door, followed by the sound of Davis and one of your friends giggling along with him. The sudden intrusion startled you both, and you froze, your breath catching as the door handle rattled.

Nick groaned quietly, reluctantly pulling away from you, the absence of his touch making you ache in a way you hadn't expected. You quickly sat up, trying to smooth your hair and fix your sweater, your cheeks still flushed as you glanced over at him. He, on the other hand, seemed unbothered, walking casually to the desk to grab the half-smoked blunt from earlier before making his way to the door.

"We were just deciding if we wanted to finish this," Nick said coolly, holding up the blunt as he opened the door, playing it off like the two of you hadn't been making out just moments ago. His calm demeanor caught you off guard, while you were sure guilt was written all over your face-your hair messy, your cheeks still warm, and your sweater slightly askew as much as you made yourself presentable.

Your friend peered over Nick's shoulder with a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Without us? How rude. You're now officially obligated to share-let's go."

Nick shot you a sheepish smile before offering his hand, extending it toward you as the others started to head back down the hall, unaware of what had just transpired between the two of you.

You hesitated for a second, your heart still racing, before taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet. The moment might have been interrupted, but the charged energy between you was far from gone.

The universe did have a painfully sick sense of humor after all.

。⋆༺♱༻⋆。

A/n: pls lmk your thoughts as writing this I had so many ideas of how I wanted this to go, and the ending was weaker than intended but this is what I got after being up for over 24 hours 🤷🏼‍♀️ but I will be writing a part two 👹

[yournightmary]

i feel like toxic!ellie williams is good for angst or like ex! ellie williams, i luv ur writing !

Toxic!Ellie HCs

content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, mentions of being drunk/high, cheating, manipulation i guess? just anything you can expect from toxic!Ellie.

AN:: Lowkey inspired by the song below. (sorry if you have to search up a translation)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who at first seems like a really nice person, maybe even too nice. She makes you feel like your life is a movie for like, the first few months and then everything goes to shit.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who is very much a gaslighter. You saw her hanging out with some girl? No you didn’t. You glanced at her phone when she got a ‘come over;)’ notification from an unsaved number? Babe it’s just some spam shit, you know that.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who forbids you from going out without her, while she goes out alone all the time. Yeah, alone…

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who can cry on command. Every time you guys argue she realizes she’s in the wrong midway through the fight and just starts crying. Not in a bawling her eyes out way, just letting out enough tears for you to feel bad and welcome her back into yours arms.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who texts you that she wants to talk something out only to come over and reek of alcohol, maybe even weed. Probably just falls asleep on your couch and by the time you wake up she’s already gone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who has called you from jail multiple times, full on begging you to bail her out. You always tell her that ‘it’s the time’ but come on, you know it’s not.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who never forgets about your birthday/anniversary. No matter how much you guys fight (or how many times she cheated on you), she’ll always be standing in front of your door with your favorite flowers. And probably weed so you’ll be at least a little relaxed when you notice the hickeys on her neck.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who always places her phone with the screen facing down. She has you on her wallpaper though, so… that’s a win.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who says that kissing isn’t cheating if she doesn’t love the other person. That only applies to her, of course. If you even try to do something like that she’ll be throwing fists.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who got your name tattooed as an apology. In a really visible place too, maybe on her cheekbone or something like that.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who lets other girls flirt with her just to make you jealous. Definitely gives them her number too.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who is the biggest domesticity hater. No making breakfast with her, no going shopping together, no nothing.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who will always pick you up or drive you no matter what- well, if she isn’t drunk or high. So not that often. She tries though:)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who steals gets you expensive jewelry for your birthday. And as an apology for ghosting you for almost a week straight. Kill two birds with one stone, right?

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who loves to call you ‘her girl’, even if she has very serious commitment issues. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t even ask you to be her girlfriend- or give your relationship any kind of label.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ toxic!Ellie who kind of takes you for granted. She knows that no matter what she can always come back to you, even if it results in another screaming match.

I love that song, literally my guilty pleasure.

[ripleyresonance]

To have and to Hold

Rhea Ripley x OC

Celeste finally has time to take Rhea to meet her family...but why does she have to look so good doing everything.

Rhea Ripley was like a Swiss Army knife of personalities, able to effortlessly switch gears between dominating in the ring and melting hearts outside of it. In the squared circle, she was the undisputed queen, a powerhouse who commanded the respect and adoration of fans worldwide. But when it came to being Celeste's partner, Rhea was like a ray of sunshine, radiating warmth and affection in every gesture

Celeste couldn't help but marvel at how Rhea seemed to anticipate her every need, showering her with love and attention in the most thoughtful ways. Whether it was surprising her with flowers on a random Tuesday or giving her a soothing massage after a particularly grueling day, Rhea had a knack for making Celeste feel cherished and valued. And even when Celeste indulged in her guilty pleasure of reality TV trash, Rhea would happily join in, her laughter filling the room with joy.

So when Celeste decided to invite Rhea to her grandmother's 80th birthday celebration in their small hometown in Kansas, she knew it was time to introduce Rhea to her extended family. With Rhea recovering from a recent injury, Celeste saw it as the perfect opportunity to immerse her in the chaos of her family gatherings.

While Rhea had met Celeste's parents before and won them over with no problem, Celeste wondered how she would handle her very kind but very loud extended family. To Celeste's surprise, Rhea fit right in, charming every aunt, uncle, and cousin with her easygoing demeanor and infectious laughter. Celeste watched with a mixture of joy and arousal as Rhea effortlessly navigated conversations and shared stories with her family members, her genuine interest and warmth shining through.

But it was when Rhea started playing with Celeste's nieces that Celeste thought her heart might explode. Watching Rhea interact with the children, effortlessly blending fun and safety as she demonstrated wrestling moves with a gentle touch, Celeste couldn't help but feel a surge of love and desire for her partner. Even as Celeste intervened to remind Rhea to be mindful of her injury, she couldn't shake the feeling of admiration and attraction that was about to boil over within her.

As the day progressed, Celeste found herself growing increasingly aroused by Rhea's presence, her heart swelling with confidence at having such an incredible partner by her side. Maybe it was the few drinks she had indulged in, or maybe it was the sight of Rhea’a ass in those tight jeans, but Celeste knew she had to find a way to steal a moment alone with her.

With a mischievous grin, Celeste excused herself from the festivities and sent Rhea a playful text saying she needed a tampon to lure her upstairs. To her delight, Rhea appeared at her door in record time, concern etched on her features as she inquired about Celeste's well-being.

“You got your period? Im sorry sweetheart the worst timing ever.” Rhea said closing the door. 

“Well, at least I'm not pregnant.” Celeste joked wrapping her arms around Rhea’s neck. 

“Oh thank god I was getting worried we might have a magic strap.” Rhea laughed leaning in for a kiss. 

Rhea's kiss was tender and gentle, reflecting her innocent intentions of finally having a moment alone with her girlfriend. But when Celeste returned the kiss, it was anything but innocent, catching Rhea off guard and causing her to raise an intrigued eyebrow. 

“What's got you all riled up,” Rhea questioned. 

“I am not sure to be honest.” Celeste laughed. “Something about you seeing you interact so effortlessly with my family really got me going….” 

Rhea blushed. 

“Well that's very sweet my love but there is a very large party downstairs that I have a feeling will notice how we are missing.” 

“I agree…but I think it will take them about fifteen minutes.” Celeste said leaning in to kiss Rhea’s neck. 

“Someone is confident,” Rhea smirked. 

“Oh, c'mon I have made you cum in less.” Celeste teased pushing Rhea to her bed. 

As Rhea sat down on Celeste's twin bed while she straddled Rhea, Celeste had to laugh. 

“You know when I was a teenager I used to dream of sneaking my crush into my room. And now I have the love of my life  squirming in anticipation under me.” Celeste said moving to unbutton Rhea’s shirt. 

Rhea let out a moan as Celeste cupped her breast. She rolled her nipple between her thumb and ring finger as she felt them getting stiff. 

Celeste pushed her back on the bed moving her lips right above Rhea’s right nipple glancing her eyes up at her as Celeste slowly moved her tongue around. Rhea let out a whine as Celeste began to suck on it. Rhea loved it when Celeste bit down a little bit, her hand shooting out to Celeste's hair. Her moans got louder as Celeste began kissing down her abdomen undoing the zipper on her jeans. Celeste got on her knees hooking her arms under Rhea’s muscular thighs. Celeste admired her thighs for a moment licking and sucking dangerously close to her heat. 

“Fuck stop being such a tease they are going to start getting suspicious,” Rhea whined. 

“They will only be suspicious if you don't keep your fucking moans down,” Celeste said kissing Rhea’s slit making her gasp. 

Celeste loved seeing Rhea like this. To the world, she was the strongest, the most dominant woman on the planet. So Celeste loved it when she was moaning and restless underneath her begging for more. Celeste moved her tongue slowly in a figure-eight motion over her clit savoring the way Rhea tasted. Rhea reached out for a pillow covering her face as her moans got louder. When Celeste added two fingers she could tell Rhea was already close. As she curled her fingers up Celeste applied more pressure with her tongue on her clit. 

“Fuck baby I love when you do that.” She said in a raspy voice making Celeste's eyes roll back. 

Celeste increased the speed of her fingers as sinful sounds started echoing through the room Rhea’s breath getting faster. 

“I'm going to.. Oh fuck” She groaned as her back arched off the bed. 

Celeste smiled not letting up her speed as she came around her fingers.

Celeste wanted to keep going but eventually slowed down making sure Rhea felt every moment of her orgasm before pulling her fingers out and laying down next to Rhea on the bed. 

“Shit if all I had to do to get that kind of head were be nice to your family I would have begged for you to take me home sooner,” Rhea smirked pushing Celeste's hair behind her ear and giving her a tender kiss.

hen Celeste pulled back, she beamed at Rhea with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, you better get used to it, Miss Ripley. Imagine the head after the wedding," Celeste smirked, teasingly.

Rhea's eyes widened in faux shock. "Well, shit, let me go find a ring," she exclaimed, leaping up from her seat and making Celeste burst into laughter.

Celeste smoothed down her hair as she watched Rhea rummage through her old jewelry box. Rhea turned back to Celeste, dropping to one knee with a playful grin.

"Will you do me the honor?" Rhea asked, presenting Celeste with her mood ring from seventh grade.

Celeste erupted into laughter, showing Rhea her hand as she accepted the ring. "It's what I've always dreamed of, how did you know?" she dramatically gasped.

Amid their laughter, Celeste and Rhea exchanged the ring, enjoying the playful moment together. As they fixed each other up to ensure their actions weren't too obvious, Rhea paused Celeste before they headed back downstairs.

"I really cannot wait to be your wife," Rhea said softly.

"To have and to hold..." Celeste smiled, leaning in to kiss her.

"...and give the best head," Celeste added with a mischievous grin, playfully smacking Rhea on the ass before darting back downstairs, with Rhea hot on her trail.

Rhea couldn't help but think she could get used to this little life with Celeste.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[6:19 pm]

cw: mostly angst, i said shit a few times, read more bc she's a little long

Being in a relationship with Jeno was much different than being just friends. He still knew you better than anyone else thanks to many years of friendship, but that didn’t mean there weren’t difficulties in the relationship, especially so early on.

There was the issue in the first few months of lack of affection. Going from friends to lovers was simple sure, the titles changed, but Jeno was still treating you like a friend at first. He showed you almost no affection which made you question whether or not you were really even in a relationship. You both talked it out, and the problem was resolved.

Now there was the very apparent issue of being busy. When you were just friends it was easy to just take a break from each other until the stress was gone or you were both less busy, but that’s not how you wanted your romantic relationship to work. You weren’t trying to point fingers at just Jeno, you were busy too, but it had come to a head about a month ago when Jeno had forgotten your birthday.

You were never one that was for big celebrations on your birthday, but you were kind of excited to see how your birthday with Jeno as your boyfriend would be different. The difference had been that he miraculously remembered the dinner he had helped plan with your friend group and showed up 30 minutes late. He was able to recover from that with a lot of groveling, apologies, and a day fully dedicated to you.

Needless to say he felt very bad and had promised to never make a mistake like that again. But here you were, on your one year anniversary sitting in your favorite diner, alone.

You had both agreed on nothing big, your anniversary fell in the middle of the week and he had been so stressed and busy with work. You hadn't seen him in person for just over a week, just facetimes and text conversations that were always short because he fell asleep 90% of the time.

You had both made the plans for dinner a few days ago, he had confirmed the time and told you that he couldn't wait to see you, only after he made you promise you hadn't gotten him anything. You had lied, of course you got him something, he just wouldn't be getting it today now.

You gave him a 20 minute grace period, maybe practice was running long and you'd be getting a text soon. Then 40 minutes passed with no communication and you just ordered for yourself. Then an hour later with nothing from Jeno, you paid your bill and went home. He hadn't responded to any of your texts and your calls went straight to voicemail.

Unfortunately for you, you could tell from Instagram stories that Jeno was very much safe and having fun with his friends drinking beer and bowling like it wasn't your anniversary. To say you were furious would be an understatement. He made the plans, he wanted to go out even though you insisted on just doing something intimate at home, he left you sitting alone in a restaurant feeling sick to your stomach with nerves over whether or not he was ok.

The next day, you ignored his texts, letting him know with one text that you were fine but needed some space from him to clear your head. He had spammed you with confused texts asking what he did, if there was anything he could do, if there was anything you needed, which though sweet, just deepened the hole he dug for himself. He still had no idea.

Now, you were sitting on your couch watching your favorite guilty pleasure reality show when there was s series of heavy knocks against your door. You heard your name, "Can you just let me know that you're ok? You've been ignoring me all day."

You scoffed, he didn't like it when the shoe was on the other foot? Serves him right. He persisted with his knocking making you sigh with a roll of your eyes before you walked over to the door and pulled it open.

"Oh, thank goodness. Why have you been ignoring me? What did I do?" Jeno questioned.

You turned and grabbed his neatly wrapped gift, pushing it into his chest, "I don't know, how about you ask the guys? Happy anniversary, Jeno."

The door closed, as he stared blankly at the door with his jaw hanging. Shit.

He started again with the knocking, his mind running a million miles a minute trying to think of some way to fix this. Of course you didn't answer. Hell, he wouldn't open the door if he was in your shoes either.

The knocking had stopped, which saddened you because Jeno had put so little effort into fixing things. You felt like you had done a good job at stopping the tears, but now you couldn't help it. Maybe you were better as friends, maybe being in a relationship had completely ruined all the history you had together, maybe that was Jeno leaving your life for good.

You openly sobbed, doing nothing to fight the endless stream of tears or loud sobs.

You didn't even know how long you had been crying when a knock came from the door. It was probably one of your neighbors begging you to shut up because your ugly sobs were getting irritating.

You wiped your face and stood straight, ready to apologize when you faced them, but it wasn't a neighbor. It was Jeno, "Can I come in? Please."

You stepped aside, watching as he paced across the length of your living area. "I don't know where to start," he mumbled to himself.

"Ok, then I'll start. Do you even want to be in a relationship with me?" You asked.

He froze, looking up from the carpet with a hurt look on his face, "Baby, of course I do. Why would you even ask me that?"

"Things were easier when we were just friends Jeno, you have to admit that. There was less pressure on us to put any effort for anything. There have been so many issues between us since we started dating, and I don't know if I want to keep putting our friendship at risk if I'm going to keep getting disappointed and hurt."

"Keep hurting you?" Jeno questioned out loud.

"For the first four months of us dating you wouldn't kiss me or hold my hand and I was the one who planned all our dates. Even though you were the one to ask me out and you knew how hesitant I was for things to change between us. You forgot my birthday and showed up to a dinner you helped plan half an hour late, and a year into this you ditched me on our first anniversary to hang out with our friends when you planned the date. I was worried sick wondering if you were even safe, blowing up your phone only to see that you were perfectly ok getting drunk while I sat alone in a restaurant." You told him.

He sighed, taking a second to gather his thoughts, there was no use in him arguing, because you were right. "I know me saying sorry isn't going to fix things, but I still feel like I should say it. You're right, I've been a shit boyfriend, but I want to be with you."

"You keep saying that but then you continue to mess up bigger than the time before and I get more hurt, I don't want to keep getting hurt Jeno."

He pulled you into his embrace, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, "I don't want to keep hurting you. You deserve so much better than me, I know that, but I also know how much I love you and it will always be you for me. There is no combination of all the letters of any language that could put into words the way you make every time I think of you. You're on my mind every second of everyday, I see you in the sunshine on a sunny day, I see you in the flowers that bloom in the warm weather, and the plant you make me keep in my room. I see you in all the little things that make life so great. I never want to lose you."

You shed a few tears, tilting your head back to look him in the eyes, "I need you to show me that then Jeno, I need you to try because I don't know how much more I can keep letting you get away with."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "I'll make it up to you and be the best boyfriend and best friend all in one. You're it for me baby, and I'm going to show you that."

You nodded against his chest, "I'm trusting you with my heart, Jeno."

[pleasantglitterflower]

The dark side of envy (Joe Burrow x Burrow!sister x Patrick Mahomes)

Tw: envy, hatred, anger, resentment, displays of narcissism and psychopathy

NCAA Championship 2017- Clemsom x Alabama - Tampa, Florida

Janine had just won the college football championship for the Alabama Crimson. It had been a fantastic season for the young wide receiver. She walked towards her parents with the trophy in her hands, all proud, seeing her brother in the middle of the way, all smiles with open arms to welcome her.

-Jan, I can't believe it, I'm so happy for you, you're a champion. - Joe tries to hug her, but she walks right past him, pushing her arm hard against his chest.

-Get out of here, you little shit. - She strode towards her parents.

Joe stood there, embarrassed and not knowing what to do.

-Oh my God, daughter, I'm so proud, you won the college championship. - Her mother shakes her hard, before she and her father give her a triple hug.

-Now that we have a champion, next year we'll all be in the stands, cheering for Joseph. - She just forced a smile at her father's comment.

CURRENT DAYS

A lot has happened between Janine and Joe, her twin brother, but of all these many things, the most important one, without a doubt, was his effort to be with his sister, to show her that he loves her and wants to be part of her life.

Janine, on the other hand, is the kind of person who, when she realizes she is good at something, uses it to bring everyone down to earth.She has become the most poisonous and manipulative person Joe has ever met in his life and she loves being like that, the kind of unbearable person who only shows herself like that when everyone around her is already tied down enough to her and her ego.

Her words at first made him laugh, his mother would say “It’s just her way”, “She loves you”, “You are siblings, she would never hate you”.

But it’s not quite like that.Janine has never been able to see anyone being better than her and when she does, it’s better that that person is someone she really loves.

Like her husband Patrick.

Someone who is hard to overcome, hard to shake, hard to deal with and hard to hate.

She knew she couldn't compete with him, so why not combine business with pleasure?

Mahomes fell in love with her strength, her desire to be the best in everything she does and the way she is with her family.

At least until they get married.

-We finally have someone we can proudly call a quarterback- She boasts, still wearing a veil, with a glass of champagne in her hands, giving her husband a peck on the lips, who laughs awkwardly.

Joe, sitting at the table with his parents, heard it and started laughing, hoping it was just a joke, but it wasn't. Janine hates him.

As the years went by, the annoyance became more and more explicit at family dinners, making birthdays, the rare holidays they could spend together, a living hell for his parents, siblings, nephews, and husband, for everyone except Janine, who enjoys watching her brother with his head down, without the courage to retaliate, because he wouldn't be able to say a single word that he knew would hurt her, out of respect for his sister and love.

Actually, Joe never understood what love in a family is. Some people are easily lovable, while others, like Janine, even though he had more reasons to hate them, just thinking about it made him feel incredibly guilty and his conscience weighed on him. She was his sister and all she had to do was receive her love, no matter how much it cost him.

-You need to listen to this new Kendrick Lamar song, this guy never tires of changing the rap industry- Joe says, ecstatic as always, when the subject is his favorite genre.

-You again with that low-level and derogatory noise, please improve. Although what could I expect from you, right Joseph- His smile died and so did the conversation and smiles at the table.

-Jan please, you are married to a black man, you know better than anyone how important this song is for the whole society, that the lyrics talk about real problems, not stupid love affairs- He tries to keep the conversation going.

-Any John Lennon song already does the job, we are in the 21st century, no one is an idiot- she replied.

Seeing Patrick uncomfortable, she sat down next to him with her plate made, now she would need to disguise the situation.

-But of course if Patrick likes it I respect it, especially because he listens to artists and not gangsters.

They weren't just arguing about music.

-I've been thinking about maybe finishing my studies, maybe changing fields, it might be good for the future- Joe confessed to Jamie, his older brother.

-Joe, you're almost 30, do you really think now is the time to think about that? You wanted to waste your time with these ridiculous courses, you don't even have enough intellect to do anything else- Janine makes the comment. Dan, the middle brother, immediately snorts.

-You talk as if you were a respected journalist, when all you do is spread fake news on social media, what kind of intellect do you have, Janine Burrow? It's because of people like you that others hate journalists. Give us a break, girl- The brother stomped off.

-Far be it from me to be bored enough to judge other people's lives, especially since I have real problems to think about, but it's very interesting how you think that finance is less important than marketing. Don't forget that your beloved husband didn't graduate, but your brother has a master's degree, something that not even you have. - It was Jamie's turn to throw it in her face.

-I think it's better to focus on your problems, Jamie, and go pay your mortgage. - The brother's hatred is visible, from the looks on his face they would easily kill each other right there, in the Burrow family's living room.

But nothing in the world moved Joe more than when she decided to criticize the only thing that Joe was most proud of in the world, not a football trophy or a degree, but his foundation.

A foundation he wanted the whole family to be a part of and help out equally, something that would be something from his family to the others, but someone refused to be a part of it.

-Joseph, I've been thinking, I want to make a photo album for the foundation of all these moments we've spent together and most of all, it would be really cool if we had an annual photo with whoever wanted to participate, to show how many lives we've touched, it would be really cool- Robin focuses partly on the Thanksgiving pie and partly on what the Burrow siblings are doing in the kitchen, to make sure nothing gets out of hand.

-I was thinking about doing some TV commercials with the kids to try to get more visibility and donors. With that, I believe we could extend the donations to the state. I feel really bad about only being able to help our hometown. I even spoke to Jamie and he loved the idea. - Joe explained, trying not to get dirty with all the seasonings he puts in his food.

-It will be really good. We can see which kids feel comfortable speaking out, if their parents allow them to participate, and then we can put it on TV. If the feedback is positive, we can even get support from interested companies. - The older brother explained to Robin, who agreed excitedly.

-Doing charity and advertising? If you want to be seen so much, put a watermelon on your head and go naked in the street. It had to be Joseph's idea. He's trying to buy sainthood. If you show charity to everyone, it's better not to do it. - Janine hurt him in the worst way.

-That way we'll get more donors, more interested people who will help. - He tried to explain.

-I have projects like that and I don't need anyone to know when I make deals with other people, I also don't need anyone to know, I just go there and ask them to see the project and help. You're ridiculous, you only think about fame, did you know that I even have a project with the NFL itself? - She boasts.

The silence in the kitchen takes over.

-I encourage girls to dream and maybe make it to the NFL - she was soon interrupted by Jamie.

-Do you know what your mistake was Robin? Joseph not being Josephine, because she would beat Janine to a pulp - Jamie leaves the plate she is making, going to the sink to wash his hands.

-Or rather, my intellect isn't that bad, it's your fault, dad, because the man is the one who defines sex. Besides, it's your fault that this girl is like this, because you didn't raise her right, you just did everything she told you to do, you two are wimps and now we have to put up with this bitch talking shit - Jamie leaves in a hurry with Jim, his father, calling him. 

-Don't beg me to come back, I'm almost 50 years old, I don't need this shit, I'm going back to my family who are saner - He shouted, leaving the house. 

-Janine, this behavior is unacceptable and you know it - Robin tries to correct her daughter. 

Although Jamie always gets on her case about what she does to Joe, he is her favorite brother and is always around, because for some reason the anger goes away. 

For this very reason, Joe always felt forced to do the same, but for Jamie, who was never offended, it was easy to forgive. 

And when her mother got stressed about the situation and called her to talk and take it easy on Joe, she gives her best acting.

-Joseph has always been the favorite, you always loved him more than me, because I'm a girl, you always celebrated everything he does and never cared about what I do- She opened his mouth and started to cry.

Jim dried her face, which began to burn, and when he felt his chest tighten, seeing his little daughter sad, he quickly went to her and hugged her tightly, while Robin remained firm.

-You know better than anyone that we always did everything equally for both of us. When you won the NCAA, we threw a party and kept Joe hopeful that his ring would arrive, and when he won, we threw a party and kept you hopeful that one day greater victories would come. So swallow your tears, because you have nothing to complain about us, girl, not in that sense, we always did everything equally.

But none of that is enough to stop her.

Patrick discovered a blog years ago, something very common until he was a teenager, where there was always some special subject for the author that it addressed, until it was replaced by long videos on platforms with the same style. But the more time passed, the more he spent with Janine and returned to the blog, the stranger everything became.

Investigating was not enough, she is his wife and knows her well, but he does not have the courage to ask if she had a blog when she was a teenager.At least until the day came to clean the garage, she had to get everything there in time, so why not during the holidays?

He took down the boxes, got ladders and a bench to tidy up the place and take a break from her pink world, it seemed like a good thing.Among the dolls, books, photographs, old telephones studded with crystals, making him laugh at the fashion of the time and also at imagining her at that age, he found an old diary with a broken padlock.

He opened it, imagining that they were drawings, because he himself loved to draw, but showing them to anyone would only be embarrassing. Even among the various scribbled pages, he found some rants about his family, very similar to the ones on the blog, nothing too different from what she talks about every day, so he wasn't too worried.

Until he saw one reference in particular, which left no doubt.

“Just one”

That's what the girl on the blog always said, because according to her, she wished she had been the only one born on that December 10, 1996.

Patrick didn't even blink, everything seemed to stop around him. It couldn't really be her, his wife saying those things about her family on the internet, for everyone to see, as much as he hoped to know that it really is, it's too heavy for him.

She didn't see when he came to her in the living room, she just threw the notebook for her to catch and by the look on her face, she knew exactly what it meant.

-I already know about the shit you did- He said loudly, catching her attention.

-That's good then- She let the notebook fall on the couch and went back to looking at the phone.

-If you still want to live in this house, be my wife and have the slightest bit of my respect, find a way to fix this situation, because if this becomes public, it won't be very good, besides, everything you wrote about them is disgusting and knowing them Janine, I know it's a lie - Mahomes yelled 

-Of course it's a lie, Joseph is too soft, he would never be able to fight back against me, but it made everything much more fun- She couldn't stop laughing.

Patrick stares at her seriously, not believing what he heard, and then she finally sees that he is really angry.

-And what are you talking about me? What did you lie about me to people or, I don't know, on some fake login somewhere? Fix this or this marriage ends here. - His ultimatum came out, leaving her alone in the living room with many worries, but not about feelings or what she did, but about being discovered and what she would do.

She took the diary and threw it in the trash can on the street, calmly returned to her house, not imagining that there would be a photographer there at that moment, wanting to see the facade of the house, after the recent renovation.

Unfortunately for her, he waited for her to come in and stop the movement at the door, to hang on the trash and pick it up, which for him at one moment seemed crazy, soon became true, since when he opened it, he found something too heavy and soon saw the same thing as Patrick.

Patrick was soon asked at the press conference.

Chaos ensued.

The Mahomes family was shocked, since they had no suspicions about this evil and dark side of Janine.

The Burrow family was devastated, due to so much exposure, each one of them was exposed there in an almost indiscreet way, with only their identities hidden.

Anyone who knew Janine and the way she talks about them would know it was her, because she talks about many things that happened, but also invents many others to make herself look poor.

Anyone who only knew the Burrow family would be suspicious, but would never have guessed that Janine would do this.

Joe was seen by Ja'marr, crying in the training center, hiding, afraid of being found, wondering what bad thing he did in his life for his sister to hate him so much.

Yes, hate.

As she herself writes in a post that was rescued, "If I had known that my brother would be so unbearable, I would have found a way to suffocate him with the umbilical cord", and she has often admitted in other posts that she planned different ways to kill Joe, whether by putting poison in his food, trying to asphyxiate him while he was sleeping, or even contacting hardcore serial killers from Athens to order the crime, but according to her, she ended up giving up because she wanted more years to make his life hell.

Joe is devastated, hurt, hurt, sad, it's as if someone had broken both his legs, both his arms and kicked him in the face, no injury and no defeat would hurt more than that.

In another state at the training press conference.

-Janine, what do you have to say about the blog? Do you regret it? Have you apologized to your family and especially to Joe? - A reporter asks.

-I was just a teenager, a child, too immature, it was just a joke, nothing major and they know it. - Her evasive answer and psychotic smile after answering the question shocked everyone. The apathy and coldness in Janine's eyes, and her frightening psychopathic smile put a warning sign in everyone present in that press conference room. They didn't need to be experts in psychology to realize that they were in front of a pathological narcissist with psychopathic traits.

Patrick began to suffer the consequences, as if he himself had created that blog.

-If Patrick doesn't come out and apologize, it will only seem like he is in agreement with all of this and since she is his wife, it is very clear that yes, he is in agreement. How can someone marry someone who doesn't respect their own family? If he didn't know before, now he does. What does she say about him without him knowing? - One of the commentators asked indignantly.

-Exactly, he has to speak up.

-Yes, he does, many sponsors won’t agree with that - another added.

-What scares me the most is that Patrick and Janine have a daughter together, what kind of education is this child receiving? Poor child - another commenter laments

That weighed on Patrick's conscience, the consequences of what he didn't do could arise,that's when he washed his face and made a video tagging the entire Burrow family, except Janine.

'I would like to publicly apologize to everyone in my wife's family.

Above all, I would like to say that I found out about this a few days ago and that I do not condone it, nor have I ever condone it. I have already asked her to do the same and I am waiting for it to happen and, like everyone else, I know very well that this cannot happen at home, it must happen publicly, since she had the courage to expose the family publicly in so many ways, for so many years. I can only regret that this happened. I love each and every one of this family and they are my family, especially you Joe, who shares the same profession and who is so young and talented, you have always had and will always have my respect and affection. You are family to me, you are a brother, I am sorry for those hurtful things you read, things your sister said about you'

The video was finished and posted, Patrick was more than ecstatic with everything he read.

When Janine saw it, she immediately appeared behind him, ready to confront him.

-My video, which I had no obligation to post, is ready, now please, have enough courage, the same courage you had to mistreat your brother, and do the same Janine and personally apologize to your family and Joseph or, if it's better, pack your bags and leave - He ordered, going up the stairs without even looking at her face.

She hugged her brother in a careless way, while he, imagining that she was being truthful, held her tightly, letting the tears wet her shoulder, who soon grimaced without anyone seeing.

-I'm sorry for everything, I was just an immature and idiot, who didn't know what I was saying, you know I love you very much Joe - She said it out loud very easily.

When her brother released her and she thanked him for it, she had to put on a fake expression of sadness, which worked well.

Peace was established between the Burrow’s, at least that's what everyone thought, since now she had other ways to transfer her anger towards Joe, a new diary, and Janine, with her traditional psychopathic smile, started writing again.

[onceonafullmoon]

Could we please get some general romantic relationship headcanons for Ann, Makoto, Futaba, and Haru?

Relationship HCs of Ann, Makoto, Futaba and Haru

No warnings just fluff!

Ann

She’s the type to remember everything, literally, everything, but only when it comes to you.

Anniversaries and your birthday are a given of course, but it extends to events you have to attend, hobbies and every little thing about you.

Like… Ann, you can’t remember any date in history class, but somehow you know your s/o’s least favorite type of skittle?

That being said she can be a bit… scatterbrained when it comes to her own things, so most of your time will double as her personal calendar.

Shopping dates? Shopping dates.

She will drag you (or not depending on how much you like shopping) to the nearest shop and make you try on a ridiculous amount of clothes.

All of it will suit you, she pays close attention to your personal sense of style, much to the point where you wouldn’t be sure if you picked something out yourself.

The Queen of PDA, let me tell you.

Contantly holding your hand, having her arm around you, playing with your hair, sitting in your lap... all of that

Definitely wouldn't just straight up make out with you in public though lmao

Its just enough so that everyone else knows that you're taken

Not because she's the jealous type though (she is, don't believe her)

All in all, a very sweet and caring girlfriend, who might at times be a bit too head over heels in love

Makoto

She's an acts of service girl for sure, like if she can do anything for you, she. will.

No buts, ifs or ands she will do almost anything

Oh, you're hungry? Already made you a snack. You need help with homework? She'll walk you through the lesson again. Need to hide a body? Well, she probably won't do that, but then again who knows?

She's more shy about showing verbal and physical affection comparatively

Not that she won't try if that's your love language!

She just needs time to grow more accustomed to it, but she'll do anything to make you feel cherished

Of course, this is a two way street

Make sure to tell her how much she means to you and how proud of her you are, gods know she needs it

Ideal dates for the both of you would be somewhere quiet and lowkey where you can talk

Read: where she can hear you talk

She really likes to hear you talk about things you're passionate about, just something about the way your eyes sparkle makes her fall even harder for you

If you're the shy type she has no problem ordering for you in public/ standing up for you should you need it

Can actually be quite overprotective at times, not to the point where it's stiffling though

In all, a strong girlfriend who needs to be cherished in private

Haru

Don't let the princess vibe fool you, in this relationship she's doing all the pampering

Not to an extreme extent of course

Just, if you happen to spot something that catches your eye in a store, you might magically find it hidden away in your room as a surprise

You can try to stop her from doing this, but you will not be sucessful

Anyways, she's a really good listener and she especially enjoys whenever you take the time to rant about something or tell her something interesting that happened to you.

Her guilty pleasure is listening to your gossip

Not that you spread any malicious rumors, just harmless things like "I think so and so has a crush on him"

Very very easy to make flustered

Just tell her how pretty she looks or how smart you think she is and she's instantly beet red

Feel free to tease her for this, but don't take it too far or she'll shut you up with a kiss

(yeah she doesn't really offer much incentive to stop)

Her second guilty pleasure is romance novels and you both frequently have book dates where you both discuss the novel you've read.

Its kind of amusing to watch her get so passionate about it.

Feel free to tell her that and you'll be rewarded with another blush

Basically, she's a sweetheart who should be treasured and will treasure you.

Futaba

First of all, be prepared for a lot of being glared at by Sojiro if you're male presenting.

I'm so sorry but it just comes with the territory

Anyways, shes the type of girl who prefers quality time above all else, so you'll find that most of your down time will be spent with her.

Not to an unhealthy extent of course, just more so than the usual couple.

Of course, you can't be with eachother all the time, so she periodically texts you throught the day, mostly just sharing memes and mini updates about her day.

Gaming dates

Even if you aren't very good at video games she'll still want to play with you, in fact, if you aren't good its better for her so that she can show off to you

If you are good then she'll be proud that you can keep up with her

Anyways not all of your dates will take place within the confines of a house.

Once in a while you'll manage to drag her out to go to Akihabara to look around the shops

She's still working through her social anxiety, so do your best to encourage her and support her

She'll frequently get you to watch all her favorite shows and then will rant excitedly to you about them

You'll just smile and nod as she does so, not quite understanding all the intricacies of her headcannons and character analyses

Basically, she can be kind of clingy, but she's fun to be around and makes you happy.

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (1/?)

Chapter 1 ✿ Chapter 2

Summary: The people-pleasing Valedictorian, a part of too many clubs, becomes closer to her school's soccer team at the end of her senior year. (Y/n) was always seen as the fat mousy girl in school that was always too kind, and with a mother at home needing to be taken care of, didn't go out much and never had the time to do normal kid things like parties. Her pursuit of having some fun before graduation starts with a party fight. It ends with her in a crashing plane, surrounded only by the girls that seem to always worry about her.

Warnings: 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Alcohol/drug use at a party, Femme WLW! Reader, Plus sized! Reader, Body-shaming (I promise it will not be done often) and perspective of an overweight girl, Depiction of a terminal illness and death of a mother,  General yellowjackets warnings, Possessive/Obsessive behaviors, Dark! Au (however, will be down the line when things get worse for the yellowjackets), All characters are 18 years of age, 18+ story. Um, also some teenage girls and peer-pressuring someone to go to a party if you wanna count that. 

Pairing: Surviving! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Taglist: @star-girl69​ @g1rlsriot @zhivaxo

Word count: 14.5k (Get a snack, drink, and settle in; you're in for a long night.)

Note: Hello! I have been such a massive fan of this show for almost two years, and I have been thinking about this concept for a long time. My idea was if someone was overweight before the crash, how would they be fair in this fight for survival, and what would happen if all the girls started falling for them over time. I have always had a guilty pleasure for Dark! Au or yandereish stories. I was inspired by @oh-so-vulgar’s "No Return" story. I can't recommend more for people to read! Hopefully, this will be a long fic, and I will be writing this as well as an Ellie Williams x reader story. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to comment and give me your thoughts! If you are interested, I added some visual ideas for the story and the looks for some outfits at the end! 

Sometimes, things have been seen and heard without being lived. Most of the time, people think or talk about different ways they would be in a crisis. Ideas of surviving are separate from surviving.

You know that. You were one of the unlucky few to really understand what it meant to survive at all costs. 

Things that should have been hidden behind the trees, in the valley of mountains, with voices silenced long before man's first breath came to them to set it free. 

Surviving was the easy part for you; the living was the hard part. 

Blood to be split, fat to be rendered, and meat to be cut. The smell of metal and tears were familiar and comforting to you. Sometimes, walking down the aisle of the butcher, trying not to see the meat on display, the smell crept into your nose, and you felt at home. 

A home made up of girls and the wilderness's protection, with care and tenderness for them but bitterness and fear when near them. It was your home for so long, pings of the tragic circumstances consume and convets like witches dancing around a fire. 

You remember what happened to you. You remember how you ended up in the Canadian forest and stayed prisoner on those grounds for 19 months… 19 months without a choice. The only option was survival. To adopt and accept, even fawn, the wild.  

The memories plague the team, and you know that. You know that they still remember and know you as you approach your 43rd birthday. They think about you. And sometimes, you see them around Wiskayok and always find them watching you first. Sometimes you see them as they are, adult women with their own lives, or as teens before the darkness set in for all of you. But sometimes, when you catch their eyes, their darkness stares right back into yours… 

And you feel at home. 

April 1996

The Yellowjackets passed the ball to defense by the teams’ midfield attacker, Allie Jacobs #11, before it was sent to the central midfielder, getting caught by the opposing team. Taissa Turner #8 then passed and kicked the ball…

Your hands write quickly on the pocket notebook on your lap in the crowd of screaming parents and students. Feverishly trying to remember the series of events, trying to remember if Allie dodged 2 or 3 players and if she passed the ball to Taissa before coming to center field of in the defenses field. 

"WHOO!! GO, YELLOWJACKETS!" Your eyes pop up when everyone screams louder, only to find that you missed the last goal from your writing, seeing the team hugging and happily cheering, "We're going to nationals!" 

"Holy shit!" You whisper to yourself as you stand up, clap frantically, and yell your celebrations for your friends. They are going to Nationals! 

A smile crept on your face as you looked at the team; you quickly grabbed the camera next to you and snapped photos of the team celebrating, feeling excitement for them and happiness. As the camera flash wears out, solidifying the moment of pride and unknown tragedy about to fall upon the team, you quickly leave the bleachers and go into the shower room to do the well-loved routine post-game interviews with the girls. 

"Fuck yeah, you guys!" You yell into the locker room as the door slams behind you, walking into the room with the heavy camera hanging from your neck and notes tightly held in your hand. The girls turn from their laughter and celebration together to beam at me. "You guys fucking did it!" 

Van laughed loudly as her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to the group. Lottie and Taissa were talking and stopped, letting you join it. Shauna and Jackie whisper at the end of the lockers, but Shauna waves at you, and you send her one back with a grin. It’s a little odd not being in their huddle and whispering with them, but things changed a lot in the last few years.

"How did we do?" Tai immediately asked you, her smile evident as she opened her locker. Lottie scoffed and rolled her eyes at Taissa. Van's arm was still resting on the curve of your back; her arm seemed to tighten around you for a second before letting go. 

"We fucking did amazing; that is how we did, Tai!" Lottie said as she looked at you, her green eyes scanning yours face quickly before looking into your eyes. You felt a pressure around Lottie, like she had seen right through you and knew all of your dirty secrets; you looked at your shoes before looking back. 

"I completely missed the ending. I was too distracted writing about Allie passing the ball to you." You say to Taissa, her eye shine when you two make eye contact, but a flinch in her lower lip shows her disappointment that you missed the game's ending. 

"Oh, well, Allie lost the ball. I caught it, then I passed it to Jackie. I hit it too hard, so it went high. I thought I lost the game, but Jackie hit the ball with her head into the Goalie." Taissa explained as she grabbed her clothes in her hands; she looked at you as the other two did the same, waiting for you to tell them how they did. 

You smile brightly and fake how impressed you are, playing it up for the girls, as you say with excitement. "Holy shit, I can't wait to write it! It was such a fucking epic game. I guess you guys are going to Seattle! I am so fucking excited for you guys!" 

"Well, aren't you coming?" Lottie cut through. She looked at you with a furrowed brow of confusion. Her arms cross her chest as she looks to the ground, away from me. An annoyance in the air of her tone. "I thought you were coming to take the photos or whatever?"

You feel a wave of fear of disappointing them as you look at your hands; they nervously touch the black camera. "I-i don't know yet. Everything with my parents is so hard to do because they're so old, you know." You say, trying to keep it lighthearted. 

"You never do anything fun!" Van complained as she moved away to her locker now; feeling her absence and lack of heat to your side made you feel even more like you were disappointing the girls. "All you do is work! You do homework, your pictures, and work at Handies. When do you have fun?" 

"Yeah, I haven't seen you at any parties?" Jackie butts in as she and Shauna finally come to their lockers after conspiring in the corner. "Why? Do you not want to be seen with us?" She asks with a dry snort, reminding you of your place in the team's hierarchy. A welcomed outsider. 

You quickly, nervously chuckle, and look at your shoes, not daring to look up. "No, it's not that, Jackie. You guys are my friends, and I would love to party with you all, but-" 

"But what?" Taissa snipped shortly at me as she closed her locker. It seemed almost too aggressive for the matter at hand. Your eyes widened as she looked at you intensely like you were doing them all wrong for not hanging out with them more. You feel yourself folding under pressure. You think you are making your friends mad and can't help it. You wanted to have fun, and they should believe you, but you knew you were never to be seen outside of school and your job at the hardware store.

"It's my mom. You know, the cancer and everything has made it harder for me to get out, but she is doing better." You said as a tight smile came to your lips to try to stop yourself from speaking but failing. "We've-" You stopped yourself from saying the words that always brought tears to your eyes. Luckily, Lottie sees this and knows a little more than the others about everything, from her own prying and questioning, so she saves me by saying. 

"It's okay. We understand that." She says with a kind voice, the tone she always used to reassure everyone, and looks each girl in the eye. Telling them to back off from you. 

You need to fix the awkward tension, not yet realizing that you don't need to always make them happy. You feel the deep urge to be accepted by them. You wanted them to want to be friends with you more and keep being your friend as school ended, you already knew it was a fool's errand, but you couldn't stop the words coming out of your mouth. 

"I think I will go to Randy's party next week. I don't work, and my dad is home; it's perfect!" You smiled at the other girls, hiding the reluctance. 

It was not perfect. You planned on studying for your honors English test that night and rereading the novel for the exam in May. But you didn't want to let the team down again by not going out. 

You come off nervous, and you know that. You know they see the weakness in your words, but they smile all the same understanding they got you to finally say yes. Their eyes soften, and they start to smile again at me. 

"What are you wearing? You need to find yourself a boyfriend." Jackie asked as she looked over to Shauna, who was quietly standing in the group without talking, Shauna's warm brown eyes already looking at you as if she hadn’t moved her eyes in a while. You feel your face warm at the question, a shot of disgust and shame running through you at the thought of picking up a guy, but you smile shyly anyways.

"I don't really know yet. I don't go to parties-" 

"How about we all help you get dressed up? You come to my house with your clothes, and we all can help (Y/n) dress for the party; how do we feel, Yellowjackets?" Jackie asks, cutting me off and looking at the other girls for confirmation. You feel your hands start to get sweaty at the thought of it. You are already insecure at the idea. In childhood, you were talking to the Yellowjackets. You couldn't say no.  

"O-oh!" You say as you feel your body shield yourself, faking a smile smoothly to hide your fear. "Thank you, I would love that. Shauna, could you pick me up? My dad will not drive me to a party." 

Shauna smiled sweetly at me, nodding, "Yeah, but you need to get your license." 

You let out a soft chuckle again as you grab your backpack. You keep trying to flee before you say something else. You give your best smile to the girls and Shauna. "Thanks. I'm trying, but It's the only test I have failed!" You joke, walking out of the locker room. "I'll see you guys at practice Monday!" 

You get a series of goodbyes from the senior girls and walk past the underclassmen with a wave and smile. Marissa and Krystal wave back at you. Allie doesn't notice you as she is talking in the ear of the quiet Junior Akilah. They seemed friendly but so young when you spoke to them, even if you were a few years older. 

You look to your feet as you walk out of the locker room and into the dark hallway of the sports building towards the double doors on the other end; the spring light and sunsetting beams light into the hallway. You keep walking away from the loud muffled sounds of the team laughing in the locker room.

BANG! 

You're head snaps behind you quickly at the loud sound of a broom falling to the ground; you look down the darkened hallway to find the short figure of a person. You knew who it was, and you felt a shiver go down your spine as brown eyes set on your form.

Misty Quigley stood behind a wall and accidentally pushed the broom resting on the wall down. The blonde stood with her hand clenching the wall with her chin resting on her hand; she was looking down the hall you were going down. She jumped back at the sound and nervously looked back at you. She looked like she was peeking down. 

"Misty! Jesus, girl, you almost gave me a heart attack!" You proclaim down the hall to the blonde. You kept your voice as friendly as it could be. Your hand comes to your chest to hold your rapidly beating heart. 

Misty readjusted her wide glasses on her nose with her hand, a little quirk you noticed over time, and she blinked her eyes rapidly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! I-I was just coming over to-" 

"Misty, It's all good! Don't worry so much!" You said with a smile, deciding to leave this place as soon as possible. The air was tense in a way that you couldn't put down, not really believing Misty but not wanting her to know that. "I'm heading out. My dad is waiting for me in the truck. Sorry, I squealed." You joked to her as you started to walk back to the doors. 

She was always kind to you; out of principle, you were kind back. It didn't matter that she would talk your ear off about the teams jerseys or different cat breeds. You always gave her an ear when you were near her, and the opportunity opened by you. It always felt awkward around Misty without saying hi and being kind. You knew how people saw her and understood why they sometimes acted the way they did with her. You felt the weight of her unsettling gaze and overbearing nature when she never took your nos to her requests of hanging out without trying to pressure you into it. However, she didn't have the pull like the other girls did with you. You pitied her and felt the need to be nice to her because of how mean people have been to her unjustified. Even when it was hard to ignore her ways sometimes. 

"O-oh, don't worry, you made a pretty squeal!" Misty recovered with a voice you could tell she put honey on, and you felt your skin itch at that. Why did she say it like that? 

"See you Monday, Misty!" You say as you quickly open the doors to the building and rush out of there as soon as possible. Seeing your dad's car and you run over, knowing your shift at Handies, the hardware store, would start quickly. 

You walk down the street with the lights guiding you home. You held your purse strap while holding your house keys in hand, not caring about the nighttime setting as you have walked home from work every night. You smoke the short cigarette before coming to the house, knowing your mother can't smell anymore, as you throw the butt to the ground. Stepping on it in your stride. You quickly come to your house, open your door, and walk inside. 

Across the street, the shallow pants of a girl rustle behind the pine tree from the house right across the way. Fingers grip the tree with the knuckles turning white with pressure; intense, sharp eyes look at you. A small happy giggle emerges as your body vanishes into the suburban home. You still do not notice them after they follow you through the town and park, trailing behind and changing paths to see you get home safely. "Goodnight, (Y/n), goodnight." the voice says under their breath as she saunters from the tree back to their home. Like they did every night you worked. 

The warm light of your childhood home surrounds you as you close the door behind you. You take off your shoes and coat, saying, "I'm home!"

"Good, Good. (Y/n), I've missed you today." Your mother says from the living room. You walk in and see the tv playing the new episode of Frasier, the colorful glow from the tv light consumed the living room with life. "Turns out Frasier has a lot of stations around America, and he is making the radio show national. It's ridiculous." She said with a dry chuckle at the end, her voice rasping as she looked at you. You push the hair behind your ear as you walk closer to her. 

Your mother and father were in their 40s when they had you. They were convinced they would never have children, but you came as a welcomed and loved surprise to the couple. Although they weren't young to play with or chase after you, they always found ways to connect with you. Your mother was a hippie at Woodstock, always claiming she met Janis Joplin backstage, and wanted you to feel loved by her. However, like most mothers, she did have her moments of bitterness. Your father is not so much a hippie. He was a challenging and rigid man who took you out to national parks and fished with you in the summer on the ocean with the small boat he saved up for. Your father was more a man set in his ways; in how his father raised him, he was more distant and worked a lot. Although it was clear that they both loved you, it doesn't stop the fact that they hurt you intentionally or unintentionally, and you feel distant from them. It wasn't fair, and it eats at you. Your parents were good people, but life isn't fair. 

In your junior year of high school, your mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cervical cancer, and it felt like your world flipped upside down. Your father wasn't home much anymore, scared to see his wife slowly disappearing from the therapies and medicine, working every night out of "Bills need to be paid, (Y/n), what do you want from me?". You sat in the living room as your mother whispered to your father at the table, them talking about how they would tell you, not knowing you silenced the tv to hear them. As you silently cry, your heart is torn, ripping in the middle with small muscles connecting the two. 

Your mother was given 8 months to live. You didn't choose to become your mother's caretaker, but you didn't feel like there was any other way to be anymore. You couldn't let your mother feel alone as she died. You knew that she must be more scared than you were. So, there you were for her as you did your homework and ran back home to make sure she took her medicine before going in for a closing shift. You didn't want her to be alone in her last few months. It felt wrong. You blamed yourself somehow. Angry and bitter at the world, you decided to hide behind a mask of being strong. You knew your parents were old, constantly reminded of the fact with their groans and cracks, and you knew it was more than average for women in their 60s with infertility issues to get cancer. You helped your mother move, dress, eat, and sleep. Nothing you could do to shake her in your mind. You comforted your mother as her hair fell out and when she said she was now ugly, you gave her a straw with her drinks even when her throat was strong enough to sip, and you never forgot to tell her you love her with every goodbye. Times of medicine burned in your mind, and the fear of her being in pain pushed you through the months. Believing she would die any day as she lost all her weight, color, and life. She lay on the hospital bed in the living room with her hands weakly lying on the pillows you placed under them. Her breaths never seemed to calm as they raddled when she slept. 

As of tonight, it has been a year and three months since her diagnosis, and your mother's face has gained more color every day in the last few months. We knew she wouldn't live long, but at least it was longer. 

You sat down in your father's recliner next to the hospital bed she lay in, her bed table over her fragile body with an embroidery circle in her hand. A smile comes over your face as you grab the pill organizer, pull out her nighttime pills, handing them to her as your eyes keep looking back to the tv. "I'd rather watch Friends." 

"Well, that is because you are young. You don't understand the comedy yet." She said with a smirk, shaking her bold head to you. She puts the pills on the small table, her thin fingers working a red string through the white fabric. She looks down at her work with her reading glasses at the bottom of her nose, "I'm making a robin." 

I look over her shoulder at the half-finished red bird. You smile. You subtly grab her glass of water on the coffee table and put the metal straw inside, handing it to her. 

Your mother sighs as she puts the 9 pills in her mouth and the glass from you, sipping on the straw dramatically. She opens her mouth to you in an annoyed act. "Happy?" 

"Very. How was your night?" You asked her as you got up and walked down the hallway to the kitchen, your dinner on the island. 

"Alright, your father is working late. I made some fish tonight." She says loudly back to you. You already walking back to the living room. You sit back down on the recliner and set the dinner on your lap. "How was school?" 

"It was good. The Yellowjackets won the game, and John was nice to me tonight, which is weird, but happy he was anyways." You say as you start cutting into your meal with your fork, eating politely in the chair. 

"That's good that he was nice for once. I don't like that guy."

"You just don't like him because he yelled at me like one time." 

"That's enough to not like someone." Your mother bluntly said with a chuckle. You chuckle back as both of your attention come back to the tv. 

The following week of school, work, and clubs blended the days together. You came to school on Thursday, the night of the rush party at Randy's parents' summer house, and it was all you could think about. You dreaded it slowly because of the unfamiliar setting of a party, but you decided to have fun. "Just have fun, (Y/n)!" you repeatedly tell yourself when you want to cancel. 

You were walking into the school's center, crossing to get your camera to go to practice. You were surprised to see the seniors together, you smile as you walk into the conversation, but it drops as soon as you come to the circle. 

"This is what we've worked for all season." Taissa hissed, defensiveness and ambition speaking through her at Lottie and Natalie. "You really wanna take that chance?"

"Yeah," Natalie responded curtly. "'cause I'm not a fucking asshole."

"Why are you guys talking about?" Shauna asked. I look over at her, and she looks over at me; she asks me with my eyes as she walks into this conversation. I shrugged at her in our small exchange of information.

There was a pause and moment of silence that fell upon the group. No one is willing to answer the question.

Finally, Lottie spoke, her hand behind her neck. "Allie." She says awkwardly as she seems unsure what to say after confessing. Shauna looked over to her as I looked at Tai, who refused to look me in the eye. 

"What about her?" Shauna asks.

"Did you black out at states?" Tai scoffs. "She totally choked-"

"She's a freshman, Tai," Natalie cuts in.

"She's a liability," Tai snapped. Her eyes scan all of you, trying to find support for her decision. "She can't screw up if she doesn't get the ball."

"You wanna freeze her out?" Shauna asks.

"At least we'd know what we're working with," Tai says.

"She kind of sucks, but…." Lottie trails off with her eyes looking over to Allie across the way, unaware of the plans for her. "I don't know."

"That's because it's bullshit," Natalie says, her voice filled with disbelief, her hands raised up.

"Oh, yeah? What's your plan, then?" Tai asks in mock interest.

Natalie drops her hands. "I don't know. Play like a fucking team and win?"

Now, both are entirely silent as they stare the other down. You feel your hands grow clammy as you think the confrontation getting to you, you hated being in the middle of these things, but you handled yourself raising a voice. 

"It's worked so far."

"Everything works until it doesn't."

She looks Natalie up and down.

"And for the record, you smell… like a wino. Get your shit together."

You feel yourself grow a face of disgust for Taissa when she says that to Natalie. To you, it seemed utterly disrespectful. 

"You know what? Fuck this."

"Wow. Okay," Tai says. You turn your body to Tai as you finally look her in the eye. 

"That was completely uncalled for, Tai." You say with your tone coming out for meek than you were hoping. "Natalie has a right to not agree with you, and you just offend her when she doesn't back down. Seriously uncool, dude." 

Taissa's eyes look hurt from your words like she had been yelled at. It's clear that your comments got her, but Lottie says to us before following after Natalie, "Doesn't feel right." 

"Jackie's not gonna like it," Shauna says.

"Then we probably shouldn't tell her," Tai responded quickly as her eyes were fixed on you, scanning and watching every micro-expression on your face. You look to your feet; you didn't like the energy of all this, and Tai excluding Jackie, gave you a bad taste in your mouth.  

Tai walks off suddenly, leaving you and Shauna to turn and look at each other after walking into that chaos. 

As the two walked away, Shauna smiled as she walked with you to the yearbook room. She was asking once again if her college entrance letter was okay. You almost completely forget about the discussion about Allie when Shauna nervously questions if she sounded smart enough in her paper. 

"Shauna, your paper was amazing. It was heartfelt but formal and mature. We went over that thing three times; we even got that movie from Blockbuster that the tutors have. You. Are. Fine." You stated with a playful tone, slightly annoyed at her nervousness but just playing it off like always. 

"I know, but it is Brown!"

"Shauna, you are second to Valedictorian and got a 34 on the ACTs! You will get in. Trust the universe on this one." You reassure and smile. Putting the camera around your neck, you lock the door behind you.

"Okay, okay, I'll try." 

"Good. You will get in, and if you don't, you will go to Ken State with Jackie." You say and put an arm around her shoulder as you walk to the field. 

You only remember a little from that last practice day. You sat down on the benches like you always do, said hello to Misty and the Coach, and started to write a few words into your notebook for your graduation speech. 

You have had difficulty putting down the words about how you felt about leaving high school. Like, what would happen to you? To your friends? It scared you, but you didn't know how to say that, and you didn't have enough nerve, to be honest with how you wanted to stay there longer somehow. Not high school, but the comfortable and carefree life that you had in high school. 

You bit your lip as you tried to focus, but soon a blood-curdling scream came to the field. You look up and see Misty sprinting across the area to Allie on the ground, holding her leg. She wails loudly as she cradles the bleeding wound on her leg. You look closer and see a sharp broken bone poking out of her skin, blood sliding down the curve of her leg, landing on the grass. 

Your hand comes to your mouth, and you feel yourself feel disguised. Disguised by the blood, wounded cries, and disgusted by Taissa. You know deep down that she would never intentionally hurt the freshmen girl, but she had bad intentions. You just didn't think she would go this far. 

You grab your things quickly from around you as you look away from the girl. Away from the yellowjackets swarmed around Allie. You felt sick as you run away from the field and from the responsibility of this accident.

"Peanut, can you come in here?" You hear your mother call from her hospital bed in the living room. You come down the stairs with a bag full of clothes for Jackie to dress you later. 

"Yes? What's up, Mom?" You say softly as you come down the stairs. You come to the living room doorway. 

Your mom sat in the hospital bed with the tv turned off, her reading glasses perched low on her skinny nose. She had a paper and pen on the bedtable and a couple bills. Your eyes widen at the amount you see. It's the price of groceries. "Come in here with me for a moment. I have been meaning to talk to you." 

You quiet and move to sit in the chair next to her. You felt nervous as you sat down. You didn't know why you would be in trouble, and you hadn't done anything in so long that you did understand why she would sit you down. You couldn't stop the nerves with your eyes.

Your mom chuckles as she takes her glasses off. She then looks at her hands with a long pause. "(Y/N), I have taken a lot from you. I am really sorry."

"You don't have to-" 

"No, I am sorry. Truly am because this is supposed to be the time of your life, and you have been caring for me. And I can't thank you enough, baby, for caring for me." Your mother choked up in the moment of genuine reflection. She cupped her mouth as she tried to hide the quivers and how her cheek grew hot from her emotions. "I wanted to say that I signed the slip for you to go to Seattle with the bumblebees or whatever. Your dad gave me $65 to give you. I want you to get yourself-

"Mom, I can't. Who is going to take care of you?" You interrupt her, and you feel yourself get emotional. You shouldn't go, the money should be used for bills, and you should be home with your mom. 

"No, you are going. I want you to have fun. You have been taking care of me nonstop since the beginning. Okay, let me take care of you, just this last time." She reassured. She pushed a baby hair off your forehead, tears in both eyes, "You have worked so hard and have been such a grown-up. I don't like it. I just want you to do something fun for once. If I was 18, I would have begged my mom to let me go to Seattle with all my little friends. It's all settled. All you have to do is give this to that coach and pack a bag."

She slides the folded paper and the money on top. She smiles as she wipes a tear that rolls down her thin cheek. "Peanut, I really want you to go on this field trip. Please, let me do this for you. Dad will take care of me. We already figured it out. It's only 4 days. Just do it for me." Your mom says again, trying to pressure you into accepting her words and killing your worries.

You nod your head with tears in your eyes. You were so happy to be given a break and to be allowed to spend so much on yourself. You feel so excited and light, but there is dread building in your stomach. 

"Okay. I will. I really wanted to go."

"I know. It will be so much fun, but please stay away from those spring break guys, okay. All they are is body oil and semen." She said as she pushed another hair behind your ear this time. She doesn't know you wouldn't be talking to any man. She didn't know that her daughter wasn't right. 

You chuckle and wipe a tear. You push her hand away and stand up. "Okay, I will stay clear of spring breakers." You say you feel your pager buzz in your pocket. You pull it out to see your pager flash dully with "Shauna Shipmen, 473-299-0876." 

"Shit, my ride is over. I am sleeping over at Shauna's tonight-"

"Baby, have a good time at the party." Your mom said as she turned the Tv back on with the remote. She looks at you with a mischievous glance. "You think I never had a change of clothes before a party? Honey, you don't have to sleep over anywhere. Just come home when you are done. You should better get out of here before your father comes back. He will smell you out within a minute."

You laugh nervously at her. You rush to get your shoes on before she doesn't act so cool; you tie your boots quickly as you leave the house to Shauna's car. "I love you; see you later, Mom." 

"See you later, Peanut." 

You nervously hold the red solo cup as you hover around Van at the rush party. You couldn't hear much over the noise and music; you didn't mind as you let yourself melt into the party. You danced slightly with the girls as you sipped on the beer in the cup. You were trying to be fun. 

You came to this party with Shauna and Jackie because Jackie’s constantly insisted that she needed to help you dress, and you had to admit you looked lovely. You were planning on wearing just some jeans and a top, but Jackie made you wear a thin turtle neck with a pink dress, flowers faded in the design, with tights and boots. You let Shauna do you're makeup because Jackie got to dress you. Shauna's big brown eyes stared at your face, softly brushing powders and rubbing eyeliner. You felt her breath hit your lips as she focused on your mascara, her eyes noticed your stare, and it made her pause. Jackie quickly broke the forming heating with our eyes from her, pulling out an ugly cat sweater you had hidden in your wardrobe. You hid your shaking breath by laughing and saying your dad found it for you. You only wear it to bed. "I would look like misty or something?" You joked and immediately felt bad as you all laughed, you felt terrible for bringing Misty up to laugh about her, but you wanted to hide. 

When you got to the party, Jackie and Shauna left you to go into their worlds with Jeff's friends. You wandered around until You found Lottie and Van. You came to hover around your friends. They smiled at you and handed you a new solo cup of beer. You sip on it and smile at them. Lottie and Van giggle and look over at you, Van pulling you into their space with a firm hand on my shoulder. 

"We're going to go to the woods, come!" Van says to you in your ear, her nose slightly nudging your skin from the closeness. You feel nervous in your stomach as your hands clam up around the plastic cup, and your face gets hot from her breath, hitting your neck softly. You follow Van with a nervous giggle, unaware of how the girls are feeling and looking at you. Lottie follows behind you, her eyes locked at the back of your head as she studies how you styled your hair. She wondered if she got closer to what the strands felt under her fingers and what it would smell like. Soap, sweat, or was it just you and your own scent. 

Van stops you, and Lottie comes to your left with a huge smirk. Van pulls a joint out of her pocket as she presents it to you. Your eyes widen with a beam. "Oh?"

"Oh indeed!" Van said back with a smile; she put it in her mouth as she looked over to Lottie for a lighter. Lottie shook her head as she looked at you. 

As soon as the papery filter lands on your lips, you see the figure come behind Van with an arm wrapping around her shoulder. You look up to see Taissa and feel your lips pursed without you doing anything. Taissa was so wrong for the whole Allie situation, and you felt conflicted. 

"Not going to say Hi to me?" Tai asked mockingly, but you knew under it all she was insecure. 

You pass the joint to Lottie as you blow the smoke. "Hi." You flatly say to Tai. 

"Come on, not you too-" Tai scoffed as she stood more straight. Tai seemed insecure, and you could see how she was getting defensive. 

"Tai, I am not judging you. I understand why you did it; you explained yourself well the other day. I know you didn't mean to hurt her like you did." You say as you feel the group has tension between them. Van and Lottie awkwardly look at each other to communicate their uncomfortable energy. Tai keeps her eyes trained on you as you speak your mind. "Tai, I, and We know that you would never hurt her intentionally to have her bone pop out. But it happened, and you planned to get her out of the Nationals. You need to apologize to her when we return from nationals." 

"(Y/n), maybe we don't need to talk about this right now? Maybe we just party tonight and worry tomorrow?" Lottie cuts in, and you feel yourself get annoyed at that. You quiet down as the joint comes back to you. 

"I said my mind." You said, sounding more confident than you were. You nervously look at Tai, who is quiet and looking to the ground. "Tai, We're friends, and I don't think I would be a good one for letting you off the hook for that. I care too much to let that go. You might have destroyed Allie's ability to play ever again because you got too ambitious." 

"I know. It was an accident." Tai said, still looking at the ground. You felt her shame in herself at that moment as her lip slightly quivered as she spoke. 

You take a puff of the joint and hand it to Lottie. You then step into Taissa's space and hug her quickly. "Hey! I know that. I am just saying it was just bad vibes all around. I know it was an accident." You reassure, now feeling horrible for talking about it all together. 

Van takes a deep puff of the weed and makes a face as she tries to keep the smoke in her lungs. As she nods her head, you're eyes lock into her as Tai's arms wrap around your waist. Van's red eyebrow furrows briefly before Tai's hair blinds you. "Okay. I just feel like shit, you know." 

"I know. I don't mean to make it worse." You say to Tai's ear. As you squeeze your friend, you know you will be the nicest to her when the others confront her. You let your eyes go to Lottie, who knew about all this; you knew that Van was probably thinking I was being hard on Tai for no reason. 

You take the joint passed to you as she smokes it; Tai sniffed, putting back the tough act as she touched her nose with a finger. You felt like you couldn't look away from her now. “(Y/n) (L/n) smokes weed?” Tai asked in a snarky tone. 

"Yeah, and crack, but no one has presented it yet, so." You joke with a goofy smile coming to your face against your control. The weed coming over you as you start to giggle, Van and Lottie following suit. "Oh, my god!" You gasped as you looked at the other high girls.

"What?" Lottie asked with big eyes, paranoid. Van laughs again at Lottie's face, leaning onto Taissa's shoulder. 

"You guys are doing drugs before nationals!" You laugh out loud. 

"Oh shit!" Van says as if she just realized it as Lottie cackles. 

You felt yourself space out a bit; you looked into the woods further as Taissa started to tell the girls off for getting distracted. You let the noise muffle as you stare into the darkness of the trees, not seeing beyond 20 feet ahead of you; although the sight was unsettling, it seemed to lull you as well. Grounded you. The memories of childhood with your parents in national parks and your dad forcing you to face the darkness were a comfort. One of your favorite memories was so simple; Two years before your mother had cancer, you all went out to the Rocky Mountain Trail on vacation, You and your dad were fishing, and your mother was sitting beside you both with her feet in the water, your dad was just spitting out the worse jokes and puns he could think of, and you both tried not to laugh. You all broke when your dad when silent and simply won by farting. 

You feel your lips curl to smile at the memory of your family as Lottie's hand curls into your elbow; you turn to her. 

"(Y/n), I want a cigarette. You want a cigarette?" Lottie says with an airy tone, her eyes wider than average. You knew she was very high as you giggled. 

"You know what?" You said as you opened your purse, pulling out the pack. 

"Holy shit, you smoke cigarettes, too? What else does our Doris Day do behind closed doors." Van jokes dryly. You couldn't help but smirk as you light your cigarette. 

"You're a dick, you know what," you say as you hand the cigarette to Lottie; she says a soft thank you as you pull another to your lips. "What do you think I do while I write?" 

"I don't know, maybe write?" Tai says as she drinks from her solo cup. 

You roll your eyes, looking at Lottie, "What do you say we lose these losers?" You joke to her with a smile. 

She smokes the cigarette as her eyes scan over your face quickly. Her eyes look to your lips and sharply look up as she says, "I thought you'd never ask." 

"Hey, what the fuck!" Van asks, mocking offended as the two of you walk away from them. You and Lottie hold hands and laugh. You loved the playful way Lottie walked away with you like you were running away together. Your hands are linked together as you get closer to the music and back to the party's life. 

You pursed your lips as you started dancing when you felt the music. "Fuck, I love this song!" You say to Lottie as you bring the cigarette to your lips. 

Lottie puts the cigarette in her mouth as she takes your hands with hers to dance together, which you do without question. It felt like the music was dancing through you, and you weren't really dancing, not caring how your body moved or how other's see you. It was fucking liberating to dance with your friend in the spring breeze, weed in your lungs, and a cigarette in your mouth.

Van and Tai come out of the woods a moment later, smiling together and their hands touching, but quickly moving away as they come to where you were. You caught them, and they didn't notice; you're happy they did. You felt something close to bitterness when you thought about how much you wanted that. You have kissed a few girls, but not one wanted to be with you; they claimed they weren't "that type of girl. I am normal." they soon pushed you away to never see the girl that made them feel something more. You just became a memory for them, and you were replaceable. You were well kept a secret. 

You wanted someone. But you also wanted to be accepted. You would never admit it, but you sometimes thought about maybe just finding some nice guy and giving it a try at being "normal." Kissing boys felt flat, sexless, and odd when you spun the bottle at parties, but in those dark corners where you were pressed against a wall by a woman, it felt like fire. It was warm and bright, making you see clearly and freely, but it burned. It burns like wax, something shocking and hot, something warm and sensual, but it soaks in and scolds after a while. So, in your junior year, you decided to stay single until college because you couldn't imagine the people in your hometown finding out you were gay. You felt a hot wave of dread when you thought about it, not that you were ashamed or accepting because you knew how everyone saw gay girls. You wouldn't be able to go into the locker room anymore with your friends, you wouldn't be able to go to sleepovers, and you wouldn't be able to touch even your friends. 

You feel sober quickly at the moment of overthinking. You look around and realize you forgot your solo cup of beer, so you just say to Lottie, "I'm getting a drink." 

"Okay!" Lottie said with a chuckle; she took a deep drink from her solo cup. 

You stumble away as you feel a sadness come over you; insecure thoughts and memories of scorned love affairs go to you now. You come to the keg in the middle of the party, and you lean over the keg to the plastic cups. 

A hand lands on your hip, rubbing the skin as it gently moves to your lower back. You look to see Taissa and feel your breath get stuck in your mouth. You look up at the tall girl with a softness; you know she would never really do something so cruel, like meaning to hurt Allie like that. At least, that is what you told yourself.  

"I admire your resilience, Tai. It can't be easy, knowing fucking crippled someone today," Shauna says to Taissa when she walks to the keg. You snap your head to Shauna, hoping she didn't notice how your eyes looked at Taissa's face. Shauna did notice; it was the reason for her coming up to the two of you in the first place.

"Cool. Good talk." Tai says back to her, and she moves away with an arm around your shoulders. 

"Just admit it. You did it on purpose!" Shauna yelled at Taissa, pointing her finger at Tai. You looked at Shauna with wide eyes as you felt Taissa's arm hold you tighter. 

"Excuse me!" 

"You heard me. "

"You're wasted," Tai says to Shauna with a judgmental narrowing of her eye. 

"And you're a fucking sociopath!" Shauna hissed back; you pulled away from Taissa and looked at both girls. 

"Woah!" Van cut in. "Calm down." 

"Yeah, let's just take a breath, Shauna; why don't we-" you try to say and keep the peace but are interrupted. 

"No! Listen, you guys, we don't have to worry about the Allie problem anymore because Taissa fixed it for us." Shauna mocked, her hands up in fake surrender as she narrowed her eyes at Taissa. The two were going to fight. 

"What?" You heard Laura Lee say behind you. "What is she talking about?" 

"She's talking about Taissa's little plan." Natalie chimed in from the back; you lock eyes with her as you look to her to explain why Shauna is aggressive toward Taissa. She doesn't know. 

"Oh, please. Since when do you give a shit anyways? Don't you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck-" 

"Holy shit, Tai, Why would you say that to her!" You yell at Tai as Shauna says at the same time, "Don't talk to her that way!" 

"Oh, fuck off, Shauna, I don't need you to defend me; last time I checked, you were fine with the whole "freeze her out" strategy." Natalie spat back, she held a cup, and her eyes looked more dilated than more in flames. 

"Okay, seriously, what are you talking about?" Laura Lee asked the group; you felt annoyed at her prying, but you didn't say anything before the others growled, "Shut the fuck up, Laura Lee!" 

"No, no, no; stop it!" Van panics when she sees the tears in Laura's eyes. You move over to the sweet girl, and you wrap an arm around her, "Hey, they didn't mean it." You say to her tearful self as you hear the fight continue. 

"Someone needs to take her wasted ass home!" Tai yells to Shauna. 

"You wanna say that again bitch. Say that again." Shauna growled back; you moved away from Laura Lee and got into the middle of the two girls, now trying to claw at the other, with Van. 

"That's it! That is enough!" Jackie runs in; she yells at all of us, starting to fight each other. We all pause. "Yellowjackets, with me!" 

Shauna and Taissa were the first to rush to Jackie, and you felt yourself being left behind with a few others that didn't get into the fight. 

You put a cigarette into your mouth quickly, and lighting it, you look at Natalie, who wore a similar face of frustration. You nudge your pack to her, and she takes one with a grin. 

"Thank you, pretty lady," Natalie says as she follows Jackie like everyone else, you follow behind her. 

"Anytime, sexy thing." You say to her with a smirk; you bump her with your hip as you get to Jackie first. 

Jackie looked confused and annoyed as she looked at all of you together in the woods again. "I don't know what the fuck that was, but I do know that it is over. We're about to go to nationals. And based on what I'm looking at right now, we might as well not even bother getting on that plane. Alright. Everybody line up."

No one moves. 

"No, I am fucking serious lineup. Here is what we are going to do. I want each and every one of you to say one nice, true thing about every girl on this team."

"What is this, the fucking Girl Scout camp?" Tai whispers, and you chuckle with Van. You felt a smile come to your high face as you stand up before Laura Lee. 

"I will go first." You say happily. 

"Go ahead, (Y/n), take the floor. Thank you" Jackie smiled as she moved for you to stand beside her. 

You stand there and smile; you take a puff of your new cigarette as you take a stand in front of the group. 

"Okay, Jackie Taylor, I admire your sense of style and how much you do as the team leader you are. Although I am not on the team, I can see you work so hard at it every day." 

Jackie smiles with a blush; she didn't expect you to say anything to her. She nodded her head, and she said, "(Y/n) (L/n), you seriously are the nicest girl I have ever met before. I have never met someone with so much compassion for others; I admire that. Also, you look fucking great in that dress, doesn't (Y/n) look fucking amazing?" Jackie says to you and points out the outfit. You smirk as the others come to admire your dress and done-up hair; you spin for them to see with a laugh escaping your mouth. They whistle at you jokingly and little cheers about your cute outfit. 

You smile and say thank you to Jackie before she can say more. You move to Shauna, and you smile widely at her. "Shauna Shipmen, you know I love you bitch. You are crazy in a fun way, and you make things so much better by being around." 

"(Y/n) (L/n), you are wicked smart. I have never met someone who could get a 100 in trigonometry with Mrs. Goldmen!" She says to you, and you giggle at her words, shaking your head. You then move down the line of awaiting girls. 

"Taissa Turner, you are so smart and very assertive. I wish I could be as confident as you when you know you are right; you would be an amazing lawyer." 

"I admire your fairness and how you don't judge when you do disagree. You always do what is right even when it's annoying." Tai says to you and playfully pushes your shoulder; you smirk and shake your head at her. You laugh at her call you annoying when she is supposed to be kind to you, but you didn't expect Taissa to drop the tough girl act.  

"Laura Lee, there is not a single person I know that is as Faithful and kind as you. I haven't ever really heard you say anything hateful or mean, which is hard to find. You are truly so fucking Christian, and I love that for you because you have never hated anyone for their differences."

"(Y/n), you have excellent writing skills and are the only part of the newspaper I read. Your photos are outstanding like they always bring my eyes to them. 

"You only say that because you know I am the one that took them." You laugh at her as she does too. She shook her head and said, "No, they are excellent!" 

You shake your head and move to Van; she is already doing that cheesy smile you always seem to gravitate towards. You smile back and come a little closer to Van; no one notices how you feel the heat of her body in that innocent way you stand to her. 

"Vanessa Palmer, I wish I was as funny as you. Sometimes I don't think anything I say sounds funny, and every word out of your mouth is fucking funny. You are the one person I come to to get me smiling again when I am sad." 

Van's cheesy face falls to a softer one that melts her heart. She nodded and said, "(Y/n), there is no other person I know that is funnier than you. Don't you remember when you told us about catching Scott Lulson jacking it with ketchup in the yearbook room? I snorted out my milk!" She remained as she laughed. You follow her before being pushed away by Jackie to talk to Van. You move to Natalie, she is already smirking at you, and you do the same. 

Natalie was one of those friends you flirted with and touched sometimes; however, it was never pushed more than just the daring "drunk" kiss at Spin the Bottle once last year. 

"Natalie Scatorccio, I love how authentic you are and how you don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks. You're a fucking badass, and you know it. Nobody can fuck with you." You say as you puff the end of the cigarette, throwing it to the floor and stepping on it. Natalie smirked at you with her eyes seemingly blown out. 

"(Y/n)," Natalie whispered to you and stepped closer, "you know how beautiful you are to me." 

"I do." 

"You do?" She asked in a condescending reassuring voice; she was teasing me. I laugh and put my hand on her upper arm; I look at her face and say, "You are so wasted, Nat! How do I know what you're saying is true, huh?" 

"You saying my love for you isn't pure?" Natalie laughed; she looked at your face with a raised eyebrow. But before you can speak, she cuts you off by saying, "Cuz it's not pure. Never been pure with you." she whispers at the end, with a bit to her lower lip.  

You burst out laughing as you feel your face get hot. You push her for shoulder playfully, feel like she is flirting with you a little too well, and feel the energy coming off of you and her at that moment. You move away to Lottie when Taissa moves to talk to Natalie; you send her a kiss as you move away. You and Natalie laugh at each other I that moment. 

"Lottie Matthews, you are so kind and understanding. I know you always have my back when I need to cry and have always been so supportive." You say to Lottie and lean on her shoulder, tired from the party. She sighs and looks down at you with a smile. 

"(Y/n), You are really responsible. I think you work hard at everything and take so much responsibility for so much in your life. You kick ass." Lottie giggled at you as she hugged you back. She whispers into your ear, "You wanna ditch this place and go home after we're done with this Kumbaya bullshit? I'll give you a ride." 

"I would suck your dick if you had one." You reply quickly to her in a whisper, and you both giggle intoxicatedly together. 

You sat in the passager seat of your father's truck. Your father was a quiet, kind, funny man but never one to start a conversation, and his knuckles were worn from years of work. 

You don't even try to notice how his veins pop from his skin or how his hands look his age more than his face, and you really try not to see how his hair has gotten more grey. But, you do notice the dreading annoyance of being in the car with him. 

He wasn't there like he used to be. He wasn't this superhero you thought he was. He was just a man, an old man whose wife was dying slowly, and he didn't have enough money to stop working until he was 70. He didn't deserve that. But he didn't need to always be working and never be at the house anymore; he didn't need to not be there for you when your mother was dying. He wasn't as strong as you thought. And it crushed you a long time ago. 

"You all packed?" He asked you as you entered the airport's parking lot. 

"Yeah." You say quietly. You play with the buttons on your flannel. "Mom made me check a few times." 

"You have an extra pack-"

"Of underwear, just in case." You finish his sentence, a well-known saying in your house for when you go camping. You always pack three pairs. One to wear, one as a spare, and another for reserve. 

He chuckled as he got into the drop-off line and looked over to you with a stoic face, but you knew he was having a deep emotion come over him. "You going to Seattle?" 

"Yes, I'm going to Seattle, Dad." You said to him, a little confused with him. 

He was quiet as he looked back to the steering wheel of the '78 Chevy. He picked at his nails, his hands calloused and his nails rounded from years of anxiously biting them, "You got that Swiss with you?" 

"Yes, Dad. I always have it in my pocket; why?" 

"You just don't have anyone to protect you-" 

"Dad, I have my friends; I will be fine. It's just for four days; I'll be okay." 

"I just don't trust them to protect you." He said with his head shaking a little as he crawled the car closer to the entrance of the building. "I don't really like you not being home." 

You roll your eyes to yourself softly as you look at the truck's floor. You look at your tied shoes deeply as you say to reassure, "Dad. I will be fine. Guys like the coaches and their kids are coming with us to protect us."

"There is a boy going with you?" He said with a raised eyebrow. Your father's fatal flaw was his fear of you becoming a teen mother. He was dead serious and mean about boys with you, trying to scare you away from them, and it just became more annoying to listen to. "I don't know it. I want you to go now that a boy is going too." 

"Dad, I'm pretty sure he is in 7th grade. I would sigh and push a 7th grader away. Don't go there." You say softly, already grabbing the bags from the back. Your dad rolled his eyes at the slang and at the fact you were right. You were a big girl and weren't easily overpowered, but you were still a little girl to him. 

He lets the car fall to silence again, and you don't stop him. You wanted to run out of the car with the ticket but waited to say goodbye. This is the first time you will be so far away from home and your parents. You were so excited and nervous to get on the plane. 

As you come closer in the line to the section of the drop-off, your dad looks over at you. He is emotional, his face is blank, but his eyebrows are furrowed subtly, his eyes watery,  and he clears his throat as he scans the airport entrance. 

“(Y/n).” 

“Yes, Dad?” 

"Make good decisions." He says stiffly. He looks over at you, and his rough comforting hand comes to the side of your face to touch your face. You didn't know what to do but look at your father in the face. "Can you call us when you land? I'll pay for the payphone." He says to you softly. 

"Yeah, of course, Dad." You smile at him and move away to get out of the car. Too excited to stay in that quiet car, seeing your friends coming into the building from a few cars out. Before you close the door, you stop and look at your dad again, him clearly not okay with you leaving; you say, "I love you. I will see you in a few days; take care of Mom for me." 

"I love you too, peanut." He says before you close the door on him. You race over to Shauna, who is walking in; you pump into her from behind, making you two laugh. You didn’t think twice to look back to your dad as he drove away, you always regretted not looking back to your father. 

You listen to music as you put your duffle, carry-on, and little box luggage into the overhead compartment. Your eyes are wide, and you scan the expensive first-class seating of the plane. You feel Van push you lightly to the seats to annoy you as she walks past you; you huff and go her back, which makes her laugh. 

You laugh too. You feel giddy to be on the plane and see what it is like for rich people to live. You giggle when you make eye contact with Shauna and Jackie across the way; you jump into the window seat. You up it to see the men attaching a giant hose to the wing.

Van, Lottie, and Laura Lee come into the private plane with awe in their eyes. Van jokes and admires the expensive velvet seated chairs, and the three just giggle together as they come over to you. 

“This is his form of parenting, I’ll take it.” Lottie sighed as she comes closer to you in your seat. 

All three giggle and say, “Thank you, Mr. Matthews.” and giggle at in their own little world. 

"Mind if I sit here?" Lottie requested to your with her big brown eyes looking down to you. 

"Of course! Sit with me, girl!" You chimed to Lottie with a bright smile coming to your cheeks. You then ask as you look at her cute outfit. "Lottie, how the fuck did your parents afford this?" 

"(Y/n), you need to stop cursing so much. A valedictorian shouldn't speak like that! What if you slip an f-bomb in your graduation speech?" Laura Lee cuts in from the seat in front of us; she puts her bags away just like Lottie as she scolds you.

"I won't f-bomb at graduation!" You tell her with a shake of your head, moving your jacket off the seat next to you for Lottie. You pat the pocket notebook in the breast pocket of your flannel, "I'm writing it, so I will make sure to give credit to the helpful editor Laura Lee for making sure I keep it clean!" You joke as you smile at her, snarky and sarcastic.

Laura Lee rolled her eyes with a smile, "Whatever, you better say something about us in your speech." 

"Yeah, add "The fucking cool Yellowjackets went to nationals, and the guy's team didn't even make it to states; never give up on your dreams!"" Lottie added; she slouched into the chair next to you as she looked out the open window to see outside. Everyone is so happy and excited; you just giggle with the girls as you pull out the notebook and pull the table over your lap. You felt gratitude that the seat and table still fit and didn't rest on your body like other seats would have done to you. 

You look over to Lottie, who is now talking with Laura Lee about strategy for Nationals, and you feel your hand move your headphones from your Walkman over your ears. You let the music distract you as the plane goes off, and your handwriting shakes when the plane enters the air. 

"Sorry passengers, due to an unexpected storm over the Midwest, we’ll be making a detour north through Canada. You’ll catch the amazing view of the Canadian Alms." You hear the pilot speak over the intercom, and your lips pull to an excited grin. 

Lottie laughs as she sees the face and asks, "What got you so smiley?"

"We're going to see the Canadian Rockies! I went to the smoky mountains a few summers back, and it was so beautiful. I will get you to see them!" You say as you touch Lottie's hand; you smile more and move away to get started on writing the speech. You didn't know how to make yourself confident or sound that way like you earned the title. 

Lottie felt her breath hitch in her throat as she felt your soft hand touch her arm. She looks over your face quickly, looking over how your cheek curves to your smile and how your eyes seem to shine when you talk. She goes quiet as she looks over your face, lost to something; she is pulled away by Laura Lee, continuing her past thought about how she should strike the ball. 

The ride became calm for you; everyone settled and got into their own little worlds, some read, and others talked to their partners next to them. You look over when you finish the first draft of your speech, seeing Lottie sleeping peacefully in the seat. 

"Passengers, we are about to experience turbulence. Sit tight, and talk to a flight assistant for help.” The piolet voice cuts through the air like a red hot knife and it severed something inside of you. 

Your ears perked at the intercom as you felt your stomach drop slightly. You felt the tumbling of the turbulence. You see the water on your table shake, and water splashes out; Lottie wakes up with a wide eye as she looks around everywhere; you hold onto the hand rests with white knuckles. You look out the window and see the peaking out. 

In the silence, try to build some courage and lose the dread building in your stomach. Suddenly, as you stare at the peaks of the mountains and the green tops of trees, you notice them growing. There was no sound when the plane started to crash down; there you were, stuck calming, looking down to the sea of green, making the sudden realization that it wasn't just turbulence. You were crashing and fast. 

"Oh my fucking god!" You panic to yourself as you see the lights in the plane flashing around you; you see the movement of the masks deploying around you from the corner of your teary eye. All your friends and the other people on the plane start to scream, scared and hopeless. 

Down. Down. Down. 

And you were going to die. You were going down, and you had no control over what happened. You just watched the peaks of the trees come closer to the belly of the plane, you couldn’t help but start to shake in your seat.  The image of your family camping comes to your mind in rapid succession of the memories of your mother singing to you as a toddler and memories of your father teaching you how to cast a line into the water. You were never going home again. You would never see your parents, friends, neighbors, co-workers, or anybody in your life again. 

You felt a hand cling to yours, and it was the thing that pulled you away from the scene of your own death. You snap to your side and see Lottie also panicking with tearful eyes; she is now screaming like the other girls. But her deep brown eyes locked into yours, her hand clawing onto the back of your hand. Begging for the company in the bleak frantic moments. 

You're hand moves quickly to hold her back, lacing fingers together; you stare back with your lip quivering. You were so scared you couldn't open your mouth; you couldn't say anything. You move to put your mask on quickly, but your eyes don't break from those beautiful brown eyes. A sense of calm comes over you amid the nightmare, and you know that you are going to die, but you will die around the people you did love and know who loved you. 

You felt lightheaded as you two stared at each other, something deeper being told to each other with your eyes. And in your soul, you felt what she said with her as yours said to hers in that moribund realization as the plane drops your heart to your stomach. 

"I am not going to die alone. Don't leave me." 

"I won't leave you. We will not die alone."   

The fat tears roll down your cheeks as you keep your eyes on Lottie. And Lottie does the same, her mouth open with a scream of terror, her eyes looking behind you to the reality charging towards us with trees hitting the wings. 

Within a millisecond, the world went black with a disgusting crack. 

25 years later…  

You sit on the porch of your childhood home infront of your table covered with everything you might need to get inspired. It's been 2 years since your last novel came out; it was successful and made you money but nothing crazy. You're publisher has been hounding you for the third book in your trilogy of romance novels, but you have been dry of inspiration for a long time. Your books weren't something you were incredibly proud of. It was just a smutty and fluffy romance with dark undertones throughout. Your trilogy was about a lesbian couple composed of an adventurer looking for a lost artifact and a genie lost in the artifact. The adventurer's first wish was to be loved, and the story wrote itself after that idea. 

After the rescue, you never wanted to leave your house again. It took you until Shauna's wedding to leave your home and your father's side. You were in a dark place when you came back home. You lived a life out in the wilderness that would be judged and parts that would cause people to look at you with fear. You took a few years to find the motivation to do anything with your life. Your father was loving and patient with you, and you eventually went to college in new york. You build connections and experiences you long thought were not for you and that you would never experience. You remembered being in a horse-drawn carriage in central park and crying because you finally did something, and the forest didn't stop you. It couldn't stop you anymore. You became a writer under a pen name and moved back in with your father as soon as possible; you lived mostly at home and didn't leave unless you wanted to. Now, your father living in a nursing home because he needs more medical attention than you could give him, leaving you in the big house alone. And you were happy. 

You rub your eyes as you stare at the computer screen; you turn to face your cold breakfast. You bite into the sausage, feeling the texture and savoring the vestiges and juices as you eat the meat, reminding yourself to eat the meat first. The wind chimes sing softly at the wind as you look around your backyard, seeing your outside cat resting on the gate across the way. A sense of peace in the world as at this little house. You dreamed about it, and it became a paradise in your young mind; you were content with your humble home. 

As you are chewing on your food, you see a woman walk through the wooden gate and look around the back of your house. You shallow quickly as you look at the unfamiliar woman, your eyes sharp as you take another bite of food before calling out to her. A tan woman with black curls and a strong nose. You have never seen this woman in your life.

"Hey, what are you doing over there?" 

"Oh, I'm looking for (Y/n) (L/n). Does she still live here?" The woman asked, looking at you with a smile. 

"Yeah, I'm she." 

"I am Jessica Roberts, Star-Ledger, and I'd like to ask you a few questions. 

You feel your mask work for you, a smile on your lips as you wave her over to you. "Come on over; I just made some coffee." 

"Thank you," Jessica said as she came into your yard. You stand up, not caring if she would steal your computer, and go through the back door to get her a cup of coffee. 

You walk back out to her, sitting across from you at the table and her looking over the spread of items on the table. It had your breakfast, half-empty coffee, an ashtray, a computer, writing notebooks, and flowers. You always had a vase of flowers on your tables. "You like flowers, I see?" Jessica commented as she saw the cases of your phone and computer, flowers, and the big bouquet of wildflowers. 

"Yeah, I think it gives more color to my workspace." You say with a kind tone to it. You smile as you sit on the floor pillow and push your work aside to see her more clearly. "What do you need to ask me? Is it about the Ancient Desires series?"

"Oh, no," Jessica said with a confused look like she never heard of them. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as the air was thicker. "I wasn't going to ask you about that." 

Your ear perks up, and you feel the air still. The palms of your hands clam up as you continue your Façade. You perfected hiding your feeling under a smile, having to calm and temper the hunger of others for so long kept with you. Smiling and nodding, simply listening and being seen, was a tool you learned and used daily. No one needed to know the hurt or the anger, knowing if they caught a glimpse of the rage boiling inside, you would scare them. "It should scare them," you thought to yourself in times of reflection that both made you scared of yourself but empowered with knowledge of the depth of your rage.

"Well, what is it that you want to ask?" You ask her, but already knowing what she is going to say.

"I wanted to ask you about what really happened 25 years ago?" Jessica asked with a curtness that you didn't appropriate about the topic. She is that type of reporter. She is not asking about the new book's release, and she was not here for some literary journal. She is here to pry like so many before. Like the others, they have no taste as they try to pry and ask questions about the scars on your face or how you became so skinny upon your return that would be followed up by a question if you were pleased with your new body or when they try and ask what happened to the other girls in the woods.

You pause and grab a cigarette. You think to yourself, "Jesus fucking Christ." 

"Okay. We have. I remember we had a press conference a month after our rescue, and we told the story." You said quickly as you blew the smoke out of your mouth, hiding your nervousness. You remember the flashing lights of cameras and the distasteful questions, the feeling of the eyes of the girls on you, and feeling your tongue move as you lie through your teeth that day. You lean your head on your fist as you smoke your cigarette. 

"No, but how did you all survive 19 months in those woods? How did you survive, (Y/N)?" 

You look at her with your face unchanging, skillfully, as you make your face look softly confused. A soft smile as you nod your head, smoking the stick. "Okay. We have already said what happened when we got back 25 years ago. We starved, scavenged, and prayed a lot, and then we were found."

"I know you have been letting other people tell your story-" 

You dryly chuckle, cutting her off, blowing your smoke shakily as you say, "I am a bestseller author. I have published 4 books if you did any research before coming here. I would have written about it, but there is not much to tell that wouldn't be tragedy porn for sick fucks  to read. Just like the sick fucks paying you to dig up this old story. I've moved on." 

"All I am saying is that some of them are getting money off your story. Don't let them tell your story."

You lean back on your comfortable pillow as you gently let the wind hit your face. Feeling calm over you as you smoke again, looking into her eyes as you soften your face. In your heart, you know she is bluffing, but your hands shake with nervousness; you slowly space out as you let something come over you that spoke in the reassuring voice you mastered. 

"Whatever you think happened out there is probably much worse than what happened. I know we all don't want to relive our pasts because of how tragic it was…." As you look at your table, you feel space out as the world becomes quieter. "Honestly, we just starved and hunted whatever we could find to keep the ones to survive the crash alive. And some died along the way from exposure and starvation. It was hard to live through, and it is something I will always take with me, the time I lost and the kid I was, but we have told you the whole story. We just survived. I don't understand what you are looking for me to say." You said, as you basically rephrased the press statement you said 25 years ago. You remember holding the queue cards tightly as you stare down at them, not daring to face the families and people demanding answers. But how could you answer those questions? How could you tell them that what they think is true, you ate your friends, but how do you confess how you ate them, the reason they died. You remembered as you told the microphone of the deaths of the people as starvations, looking up to find Akilah's sister with a 3-year-old boy on her lap, you felt yourself choke under the guilt. You ran away from the press conference as soon as it was finished; you remember the sobs you wailed into your father's chest when you got home. And how you couldn't face the world for a few years after that. Lies always seemed to stab you more profoundly than any other bad intention, but you couldn't see how telling the truth would do anyone good. 

"Have you spoken to the other girls to know they don't want to relive it?" 

You chuckle again as you sip your coffee. You shake your head and say, "No, I haven't spoken to them in years. I think the last time I saw one of the girls was back in… '07? I hope they are doing good. I don't know how they feel, but I am just assuming." You lie smoothly. You take a deep puff out of the cigarette. "I am done talking about this now; I hope you can respect my decision." 

"Alright, but if you change your mind, please contact me," she says, putting a business card with the very clearly fake business name on it and her number. You smile as she gets up and leaves, not touching the coffee and leaving without a goodbye. 

You kiss your teeth as you think, "Wasteful bitch." You sigh as you smoke the end of the short cigarette, pouring the untouched coffee into your mug. You sit in your spaced-out state as your thoughts run. You feel yourself kiss your teeth again, knowing what you should do, as you stand up with a new cigarette in your teeth, walking into your home. 

You race to the bedroom, and you find the purple burner phone. The one that Tai bought you a week before she married Simone, she begged you to keep contact and that she couldn't imagine a world without you as she proposed to Simone. You took the phone without saying anything to the crying woman, and you pointedly never used it after putting all the yellowjackets information into it if you needed it. You still felt a sting when you thought about Tai and how things ended up for you. You felt that way about all the girls. 

You sigh and light the cigarette as you look up to the ceiling; you roll your eyes as you call the number that you know would know the most and would give you anything you need at the drop of a hat. 

You hear the rings as you anxiously pace the floor, smoking the cigarette deep into your lungs, feeling the tickle and your nerves widen in your legs and hands. 

"Hello, this is Misty Quigley. Who is this?" 

"Hey, Misty, it's me-"

"Hi," Misty said breathlessly on the other end. I can already tell she is smiling and pressing her phone closer to her cheek, trying to get close to you somehow. She knew it was you before you could finish your sentence. 

"I wanted to call and tell you that someone came to my house and asked about it." You said softly to her, holding the burning stick. Looking at it as you lose yourself in the disassociating daydream. "You told me once, if anything happened, to call you." 

"Who was it? Another reporter? Are you okay? Did they do anything to you?" 

"Yeah, she said her name was Jessica Roberts from the Star-Ledger. I-I know you are better at these things than me, but I don't think that if that is really her name or Star-Ledger is real. I wanted you to know before she or any of the girls come to you." You said as you felt yourself start crying. You didn't know why. 

"Thank you. You're still so kind; how are you doing? Are you still in New York?" Misty asked quickly, and you felt your skin crawl as you knew she was already trying to get her claws into you again. Too much hurt lingers inside you with what happened in the woods. 

"I-I… Thank you, Misty. I have to go now-"

"Wait-"

"Bye. I'm sorry." You sobbed as you hung up on her. You felt a piece of your heart pull at the pain. You chose yourself long ago; you can't let them come back in. They would never leave. You don't really know if you want them to.

You know that you would let them creep back into your life if you let them. They saved you. They protected you. How could you stay away from them again?

DINGDONG! DINGDONG! 

You feel yourself flinch at the sound of your doorbell ring in your house. It stabbed the air violently. You rush to the door now, feeling lost in the moment. The memories rush and consume your reality. As you race down the stairs, you feel the air push your hair like the wild wind did in those hunts; the feeling of your skin touching the carpeted floors turn to wet grass, as the hair follows out not out of simple bounce of stairs but out of savagery. 

"Jessica, I already told you that I don't-" You say as you open the door, only to find nobody there. You pause as you look around the road with the other houses on the drive and the forest surrounding your home. You feel the wilderness look at you when you scan the trees, knowing it is breathing you in as you breathe it in. You were alone in your isolated country home, 

You look down at the mat to find a bouquet of Baby breaths wrapped in brown paper. You shakily pick it up and look at the card. You felt the lone lost role come back from all those years ago, the Doe, the innocent creature watched over by the wolves and tormented with pleasure and insanity. Your eyes manically look around the house again as you lose your breath, panic over you as you back into your door, slamming and locking the door. 

“I don’t know how to describe it, but I’ve never met anyone who is equally beautiful inside and out as you. I hope you like the flowers even though I know you prefer color. 

Eternally yours ♡” 

Unbeknownst to you, across the way, a woman watched the house when you cowered back into the safety of the house. Her hand clutched the tree with their fingers digging into the now smoothed bark from the years of her touch. Her face snarls as she sees you hide back into your house, the lip quacking into a smirk, taking you drawing back as an invitation to chase you again. They remembered the years they yearned for you, afraid of you rejecting them because they didn't know if you liked girls too, not knowing how you would love them. You were precious; you were kind and genuine, ferocious and passionate, but so lost like always. They saw how you were lonely before the crash, and they see it now. They knew deep down that you were ruled by your fear and love of others, making you hide. They knew if they got you again, you couldn't leave them like you did once. You were their wife out there. And they are going to get you back. 

Note: I really hope you liked this story! Please ask me if you want to be on the Taglist or any thoughts on my story. Also, if you don’t like the outfits you don’t have to take them as the image you get in your head while reading, they were just what I used to inspire the story and enrich the character setting that you are in for this story!  (BTW I am so annoyed that I couldn’t find any plus sized clothes on the site I used to make the outfits)

[commsroom]

happy birthday! ive been meaning to ask for a while if you have any spare minkowski thoughts, just in general. if not, are there any other characters in w359 that you see as trans or queer?

thank you!! sorry for not getting to this one on my birthday; i've been trying to come up with some minkowski thoughts for you, but i'm not sure if they'll be new!! one of my favorite things about minkowski is how much she really, truly has "guilty pleasures" in the most typical sense. when emma sherr-ziarko said the track name "minkowski watching 50 shades of gray with a tub of ice cream and enjoying it nonironically" informed her perception of the character, etc. i love that. all of the best characters are self-contradicting in very real and human ways, and minkowski has a ton of that. her love of musical theater gives us such insight into her interior world; she treats so much of her life like these separate, practiced "roles" to play, as if there can be clear divisions between them.

minkowski is a great leader, but she's not a natural leader, and - in fact - everything that does ultimately make her a person worth following is completely at odds with how she tries to lead, or how she thinks it's supposed to be done. i think she was in a dozen different clubs in high school, but didn't really have friends. i think she could get really into historical reenactment (and i would love for eiffel, hera, and minkowski to go to a ren faire - i think they'd all enjoy that, but for very different reasons.) i think minkowski earnestly believes in the concept of a "cheat day" and marks when she allows herself to eat a whole bunch of ice cream on her calendar - this is horrifying to eiffel, but she finds it sincerely motivating. i think minkowski's interior decorating sense is at least 30% more "live, laugh, love" than anyone else around her would be able to take seriously. she's the kind of person who needs everything in her house properly labelled and put away in the same place every time. eiffel is the kind of person who leaves everything out, all over the place, and forgets it exists if someone puts it away. making them live together is hilarious. i think minkowski likes romcoms and hallmark christmas movies; she's easily moved by very sappy media, and very defensive / embarrassed about that. she's used to being mocked for her taste, and for how it goes against her image as a career military woman. i do not think hera would share her taste in movies at all, but minkowski + hera girls' night is very important to me.

what else... oh!! i've talked to my friend @hephaestuscrew a lot about minkowski's parents, and i agree with the assessment that they are probably... pretty laid back? like, the kind of people who encouraged her to be whatever she wanted to be - the pressure she puts on herself to make something of herself is the kind of person she is, and a message she got from the world at large more than her parents, i think. her dad's first name has an anglicized spelling as well, so i think there's something kind of... well, there's something that rings true about minkowski trying to hold onto these parts of her heritage that her parents aren't as concerned about. koudelka's a czech name; we don't know anything about him, but i wonder if maybe she made that connection with him at least partially because they were both american children of (at least one) eastern european parent(s) in paris. and her mother is french, she learned french before she learned english, but we don't really know if she spent time in france before that. there's a sense of displacement to that.

(as for the other part, well... i'm not sure! obviously jacobi is gay, and i would generally agree lovelace and maxwell are as well. i think eiffel is technically bi, but he's straight culture bi. i think it would be difficult to get minkowski to really examine her sexuality. whatever kepler's sexuality is, i think he's done his best to close himself off from any sincere desire. my thoughts on hera's sexuality would require a whole other post, but obviously i read her as trans. there isn't really anyone else i think of as trans, but that's not to say it's impossible - they're mostly military or military-adjacent people born in the 70s and 80s; by and large i think they're coming to these topics of identity from a different perspective from those of us on tumblr dot com. but i think doug eiffel is one of the most cis characters i can imagine.)

[damthosefandoms]

Umm will you please feed us (ME) more content about how Soda changed after the war because I’m obsessed with the shift in his personality and how drastic it would be for the rest of the gang and how not only is it soda having to cope with his new self but everyone else too….

Like the fics of him being in Vietnam are usually a little 🤨😬 but the character exploration of him post homecoming…. I eat that shit up (but I think mainly because I love angst and specifically Sodapop angst)

man I can’t even lie to you. 90% of it was I listened to (the Big Time Rush cover of) Revolution by the Beatles and went “post-Vietnam soda would’ve loved this song.” so do with that what you will.

actually i will! the Beatles are notorious for being a Soc Thing in the book, it’s stated that the Greasers like Elvis but the Socs like the Beatles, and I’ve mentioned this before probably in some tags somewhere but I think Soda’s guilty pleasure is that he doesn’t actually like Elvis, he likes the Beach Boys and the Beatles. Personally, my parents grew up in the 60s/70s so my music taste is whatever they played in the car for me growing up and this is entirely me projecting but it feels in-character to me for Soda to love all kinds of music, so anyway. One day when he’s home he’s driving around with some of the gang and Revolution comes on and they’re booing it telling him to change the station bc it’s a Beatles song but he just very passive-aggressively turns the radio volume up because that song is literally a fuck you to the world for the Vietnam War. Soda likes the Beatles now. Something is clearly wrong in the world. But they can’t tell him to turn it off now bc he’s belting the lyrics because it’s like cathartic for him. They cut his hair short when he joined the army. They cut his hair short and as a greaser that’s all he had, and now this song is all he has, too.

the rest is under a read more bc this may get long lol.

Soda would’ve turned eighteen a year after the plot (so 1966 in the book/movie timeline, 1968 in the musical timeline and the musical is the one I go by personally), and in my head it’s all pretty fast; he’s drafted and sent away as soon as he turns eighteen. His birthday’s in October and he’s gone before Christmas. He doesn’t come back until maybe the next Christmas, maybe right after—and I go back and forth on this depending how I wanna play it but I think for the sake of the rest of the gang still seeing the greaser/soc thing as something that matters, he’s just over nineteen when he gets back, and that matters bc they’re all still pretty young.

And Ponyboy’s probably still home and in high school and definitely is still in Darry’s care (he’s 16 now). and anyway at some point Pony & Soda are walking home and get jumped bc people are still mad about Bob’s death, and Pony steps in front of Soda bc Soda’s still injured from whatever causes his medical discharge from the army (I’ll get around to that) but when the socs pull a knife Soda just watches them tiredly, and he’s like “ain’t y’all realized there’s worse shit in the world than what side of town ya live on?” and that’s when they clock his knee brace and the bags under his eyes, the buzzcut hair that looks so silly on an east-sider walking around town in a too-big flannel and blue jeans, his hair’s shorter than Pony’s was after his trip to Johnny’s barber shop. Soda never ever let anyone cut his hair. He was so proud of it.

But now he’s there and they see the dogtags hanging around his neck, not the old rusty ones he wore in school but shiny new ones with his name and blood type and religion (yes, that used to be on dogtags, idk if it still is or was in Vietnam but I know it was during the Korean War so they’d know what kind of last rites or whatever it’s called to do for you if you died) (I also grew up on reruns of M*A*S*H can you tell. Soda would’ve loved that show btw) branded on there and they hesitate and Pony grips Soda’s arm tight and tells the socs to scram and they do, cause once upon a time soda was known around Tulsa for never having lost a fight and now he’s got military training and a shit ton of trauma and a bad knee.

and yes i think he went home after a year bc he got shot in the knee! I think he had a bad knee anyway (from the rodeo injury mentioned in the book) but now it’s kind of. he’s either on crutches for the rest of his life or once he recovers as best he can it depends on the day if he needs crutches or a cane or what. in an au where Johnny and Dally live, Soda post-war & Johnny bond over their legs not working like they used to anymore!!!!!!

they also bond over knowing what it’s like to be so scared you end somebody’s life, but like, that is something I haven’t thought too much about yet and don’t have the energy to put brainpower into tonight lol but I know Johnny feels bad about relating to him for a bit about it bc Soda was “protecting his country” and Johnny just stabbed Bob to save Ponyboy and thinks it’s not the same. But Soda’s trying to explain to Johnny that the “protecting his country” thing is a load of crap and they never should’ve been in Vietnam in the first place.

I don’t think any of the gang would be pro-war at all, but it’s the sixties so we’re talking blind patriotism bc they just simply Do Not Pay Attention To Politics Outside Tulsa Very Often (they’d all be liberal in today’s society tho) but I think Soda is so radicalized into the anti-war movement by the time he comes home bc of what he experienced they’re all like “ooooookay slow it down and explain one more time.”

[gurugirl]

Will you give us a little something else for the stepmom!reader fic? I'm really curious about how you'll go about it. Will it be anything like your stepdad!harry one? I hate/love stepdad!harry. I love reading it (super guilty pleasure) but in reality that man would be trash so I also hate him.

I'm really looking forward to the stepmom one though, as a 30 year old woman I feel like usually we see a lot of Harry being older and dominant but it would be fun to look at this in a different perspective with reader being a little older.

YES - i know what you mean about stepdad!harry. he's kind of trash but that's the whole point in that au. it's mostly about the smut. 😂

But for stepmom!reader it's not going to be like that at all. As a woman I cannot see her being toxic in the way I've written harry as stepdad.

This one will have some background about her marriage and the kind of arrangement she and harry's dad have.

While it's still a completely messed up situation, this one will be softer and there will be some pining a bit. I've got almost 20k words written for it already and I'm actually loving it. Harry meets yn when he's in college and an adult so there's nothing too odd about them being attracted to one another. She's about 7 years old than him. Harry will be a virgin but not for lack of confidence or charm. You'll see.

But I'll give you a little teaser below the cut (1.3k words). Enjoy!

She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come on Friday as he said.

But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.

Looking down at the placement of the dancefloor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.

She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.

In the early afternoon, the landscaper had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.

But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.

The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, frozen fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.

She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.

Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”

She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.

“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.

Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.

Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”

Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted woman. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.

She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.

Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!

Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…

Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.

Knocking at his cracked open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.

Porn.

He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.

Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed

Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…

She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“

But he stopped short. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.

“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“

Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”

Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.

He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”

“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”

Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.

“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“

“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”

[kayothunderbirds142]

Kayo guessed that her brothers had forgotten, or that they had just been too wrapped up with all the rescues, reports and Tracy industry, after all, this morning seemed like just a regular day to them all. Scott was buried in his paperwork, Gordon was in the pool doing laps as normal, Grandma Tracy making what would have been waffles for breakfast, and the other brothers still in bed, with John on five. Kayo began her day as she normally would, waking up early, grabbing leftovers from the fridge and a mug of coffee before staring at the security reports and checking the data from last night, looking at the data, before heading off to Shadow in order to patrol the area. Kayo would hate to admit it, but this was her favourite part of the morning, being able to cruise around the shadows of the island in her bird, in the silence of her own thoughts, in the comfort of knowing that the island was safe.

Kayo continued with her routine, taking a trip to the Gym before giving herself a well earned shower. The rest of her brothers, minus Alan, were now all up and sharing a cup of coffee around the kitchen table, with Virgil pretty much hogging the whole of the coffee jug. Kayo always thought it was amusing how there was always a need for coffee in the morning for everyone in that house, to make sure they wouldn’t be falling asleep on any upcoming rescues. Kayo enjoyed this moment, with her family appearing that they had forgotten her birthday, she was slightly disappointed, she knew Gordon loved teasing her on her birthday, she was only 4 months younger than him and he loved to remind her that she was ‘getting old’. Kayo would never admit it but she enjoys this banter between them, seeing as she calls Gordon old on his birthday. Unfortunately Kayo couldn't be with her thoughts any longer as she heard the familiar chime and John’s voice calling out ‘International rescue, we have a situation’.

It was a simple search and recovery mission, one Kayo could handle with Shadow. Kayo didn’t see the point in her being sent, with any of the others being more suited to the missions. Scott could have done the mission and been back within 30 minutes, with Kayo being gone for a few hours. Little known to her, the family was planning a secret little party for her, nothing over the top, just the way she likes things. Scott had picked up a cake for Kayo, a chocolate cake, the type she would never admit was her guilty pleasure. Kayo’s trip home was quiet, with only the humm of Shadow’s engines. Being unaware of what was going on in her own home.

Gordon and Alan were doing the balloons, with Max hanging up the bunting. Although it was nearly impossible, keeping certain secrets from Kayo was possible, but took weeks of planning. Kayo had docked Shadow and ran her usual post flight checks. Kayo wondered, straight from the shower into the lounge. Kayo stared in awe of the mini celebration they did for her, presents on the table, balloons and banners hanging. “you remembered?” Kayo was shocked at the sight in front of her. “what kind of question is that? of course we did Kayo” Alan told her. Kayo had been foolish to believe that they had forgotten about her birthday.

Kayo’s presents consisted of a range of kung fu movies, Alan loved giving her those, Gordon got her a shirt with a grumpy cat on the front, with the words ‘don’t mess with me’. Kayo loved it. ‘I love how old you are now Kay, almost like we're both getting old, don't you think” Gordon chuckled as Kayo shared a smile with him as he wrapped her arm around her shoulders. Kayo grinned as she continued to open her presents around her family, with blowing out her candles, eating maybe a bit too much cake, but hey it was her birthday, she could indulge.

Scott tried handing her a beer, with Kayo swiftly refusing. She rarely drank at all, she wasn’t really a fan of it. Kayo had quite a low tolerance when it came to alcohol, and utterly refused to drink outside of the island, knowing she’d only really be safe with her family, “come on, it’s your birthday! you can party as hard or as little as you like.” Kayo knew Scott was true, and why not! She was with her family, and knew to savour little moments with them whilst she could. After all, it was her birthday.

[6lostgirl6]

I saw your requests were open and I IMMEDIATELY ran for the inbox. I love your work, friend! Anyway, I liked the poly Bill and Ted with an SO post you did, but I'd love to take it one step further and request OLDER Bill and Ted (like in Face the Music). Maybe how they'd be with an SO who's a huge fan of their music. Just an adoring fangirl who worships the ground they walk on and makes them feel young again 🥰

Thank you! 💜

Older!Bill and Ted With a Fan S/O

Pairing: Older!Bill and Ted x Fem!Reader

TW: Fluff, cursing, NSFT content, Age Gap [Reader is 25+], Mentions of dp, breeding kink, public sex, creampie, cockwarming

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this request and I hope you enjoyed it! I honestly feel like I didn't do my best for this, I apologize!😭❤️

SFW:

The saviors of existence itself were holding a concert every few months, and they were finally playing in your area for the very first time. At a lower price, you quickly took advantage of the opportunity to purchase backstage passes to meet with them. 

Bill and Ted preferred having their meet and greets before the concerts, since they would usually be tired and wanting to go back to the bus and rest after another intense night. Sadly, they weren’t young anymore.

When you arrived and stood in line, your body couldn't stop shaking from both adrenaline and nervousness.

Despite how much Bill and Ted loved their fanbase, many of their meet and greets consisted of fangirls sexualizing them to their faces which left them not looking forward to them at times.

However, when it was your turn, you were like a breath of fresh air.

You were incredibly kind, asked appropriate questions, and seemed genuine about learning more about them and their albums that literally changed the world.

Bonus: You were a gorgeous babe.

However, they felt a little guilty because you were much younger than them, 15 years between you and them. But, they couldn't help their attraction to you.

They actually moved you from your original seat to the front row where you would be closer to them. They just couldn't understand the pull and wanting to have where where they could see you from the stage with a huge smile on your face.

After the concert, they gave you their number, wanting to keep in contact with you.

You've been calling, facetiming, and messaging them for a long while, a few months before Bill and Ted confronted each other about their feelings for you. They agreed they were more than happy to have you be with both of them.

Soon, the three of you were in a relationship and eventually went public.

Sure, there was a little backlash, but you're relationship was heavily supported by the fanbase.

Ted is the more affectionate partner in the relationship and he didn't mind public displays of affection. Bill is a little more reserved but behind closed doors is another story.

As their girlfriend, you now have backstage access for free!

If you were really into music, they will teach you how to play their guitars.

For your birthday, they would get you your very own custom guitar! Happy birthday babe!

Important dates can be forgotten at times, but it's not out of malicious intent. Ted forgets to write shit down on the calender when Bill tells him to.

They give you all matching bracelets to wear, it shows everyone that you belonged to each other.

NSFW

It is ritual that Bill and Ted fuck the shit out of you after their concerts, when their blood is pumping and adrenaline in their system.

Ted would be a soft dom and would always prioritize your pleasure before his own. He'll make you cum three times before he even sticks his dick in you.

Bill would have a daddy kink, being your provider and taking care of you in bed while you call him Daddy makes the blood run south.

Bill loves lingerie on you, his favorite colors on you are pastels

Ted prefers you in bold colors, it honestly distracts him.

Please film yourself in lingerie and tease them, they love it so much.

Ted is into filming you all fucking, it turns him on to re-watch the footage when Bill and him are away on tour and you couldn't come for some reason.

Get used to getting double penetrated or eiffel towered, the boys are not against fucking you at the same time.

Ted has a bit of a breeding kink. With his bad relationship with his father, he wants to be able to be a better father than him and provide for you.

He often thinks about having little ones that are a mixture between the two of you.

Therefore, he's going to cum inside you everytime. He'll even leave his dick inside so nothing spills out.

Bill is into exhibition, he loves the risk of teasing or fucking you in public.

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

Taglist: Comment to be added!!

@prettywhenibleed @leiasolo77 @britany1997